Just don’t marry the snake

I hate snakes. They creep me out. I don’t trust them. They stir me with repulsion. No amount of self-composure is going to alter what I feel. Time is not a factor where snakes are involved.

If I’m honest with myself, I really have to admit that I don’t know snakes. I don’t know their sounds, their smell, and their ‘snake-ness’. I do wonder if I knew the details about snakes if I would change my viewpoint.

Now that I think about it, would knowing the details of something help me move from the abstract to a less preconceived way of seeing things? If I slow down the process, even step outside of myself, and observe myself in the action of observation, would that harness my obsessions and permit me to know matters for what they really are?

Be it snakes or history, literature, math, another person or any, at first blush, detractive thing, would a less self-absorbed, more detailed study of the subject generate new found knowledge and appreciation? Indeed, grant me enlightenment and power? Interesting.

After all, I realize now that I only have to study the snake, not marry it.

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Just don’t marry the snake