Omen Deck - card 56

Card number 56 - the viper on the path

A horned viper on the path.

This photo was taken on the island of Andros, Greece. It was at the end of an island hopping adventure that I made it here, inspired by all I’d seen already, but also exhausted and beginning to get in my own head. I arrived at the hotel with a hasty plan to drop my bags off and head out again to catch the best parts of the day as a hike. I’d been reading about some of the trails close to the hotel, so I had a rough idea of where I needed to go, but my knowledge was limited and patchy. It was hot, and the air had a dry intensity I wasn’t familiar with, growing up in the humidity of (so-called) Queensland. One of the articles I read mentioned a fresh spring just an hour up the mountain, so without giving myself a chance to pause and reconsider, I filled my water bottle, packed my camera bag with snacks and head out.

During this trip, the conversations in my head were framed by my concept of courage. I wanted to be bold and brave, to discover parts of myself I knew existed, but had been overshadowed by fears and an over-thinking brain. So I’d made a habit of practicing one small act of courage each day, to trip the switch of over-thinking before it could begin. I start this walk seeking a conversation with bravery.

So here I am hiking up an unknown path, without an update to beloveds at home, barely researched and without enough water in my bottle to combat the dry heat of the Cyclades. “Don’t overthink it, just do it”, I’m telling myself… my attention is everywhere, the hazy blue view, the ocean, the mountains, the farms I’m passing, the goats who’ve taken to the shade that watch me cautiously. I soon find I’ve been caught with these thoughts, and that I’m more focussed on the act of boldness rather than the pleasure of the act. A black goat next to the path startles me; “pay attention” I hear as it stares me down. This goat holds my gaze. I slow down my pace and turn a corner, as the incline intensifies. I’m about to take another step when I look down on the path before me.

There she is, this grey-blue coil dozing on the path, in the exact spot my foot would have landed had it taken the step. I freeze. She opens her eyes, and it is just us two, in this moment. My heart is pounding. I have no idea what kind of snakes live on this island, I have no way of calling for help, and no one even knows I’m here. Very gently, she turns and leaves. As do I.

Later, I’m eating lunch and rehydrating while I look up wildlife of the area. From what I could identify of the snake, it appears as though I nearly stood on a horned viper. 

I’m reminded that some fears are born from protection, that not all over-thinking is unwarranted, and that caution has a purpose. The head-talker-middleworld stuff, while it often gets in the way of feeling and being with the experience of life, is still a friend, an ally, and is doing it’s best to protect me. While my anxiety has caused a lot of pain and regret in my life, perhaps, the solution is not to ignore it completely, but to find a more attentive way to be in relationship with my head and my heart.