We did it. We moved. A part of me thought I’d miss our little house in the dunes. It was our first home and it is where I learned to rid myself of my city-girl feathers and accepted nature, the wild and untamed sea. Most importantly, our little house in the dunes is where our daughter was born. So much happened in the course of seven years in that tiny space we called our home, that I imagined parting with would be difficult.

Attuned to nature and the quiet, many thoughts crossed my mind about our new home in a busy street and bustling new neighborhood. How would I fare? But when the day came I felt nothing. And finally, when night fell and we slept in our new home for the first time I realized I had already let go. I visited our old home once more, and though I could trace back many good memories and the very first steps of our daughter on the crackling old oak floors, it was no longer ‘home.’ It felt different. I was different.

Our new house is a blessing. Still in the process of settling, I feel energized, inspired! The noise I was worried about, I have come to love. Our upstairs neighbor is a Pianist, she records her beautiful songs every evening as I put our beautiful daughter in bed. The bustle of a lively neighborhood? I have come to realize that this is exactly what I need right now. The sound of the sea has been gently replaced by children’s laughter, and of neighbors drinking wine with friends in the garden. I can live with that. The sound of life happening. Secretly I think I was longing for that.

The image of the snake often evokes fear in many of us. Granted, they bite and slither. But snakes know a thing or two about transformation. Intuitively, they shed themselves of their old skin, allowing a new one to emerge. This too is what we must do in order to transform. Though painful and sometimes sudden, You have to let go and dive into the unknown dark willingly, to discover your new shape. From time to time we must embrace our inner Serpent.