Regeneration & Transformation: The Power of Shedding the Old
what we can learn from the shedding process of Snake

"Shed what no longer serves you
and receive the goodness that is aching to find you." — The Snakes

Change is the one constant in life, and the necessity of releasing the old in order to grow and renew is one of the most vital teachings of Snake Medicine. Through their mysterious process of shedding, snakes are the most prominent symbols of transformation, regeneration, and rebirth.

As humans, we respond strongly to symbols and metaphors because they speak directly to our subconscious. As such, connecting with the powerful symbolism of the snake’s shedding can be a potent support as we go through our own psychological shedding processes in life.

Life is a journey of constant change. Resisting change leads to stagnation, or worse, illness. When we cling to possessions, work, relationships, or projects that no longer inspire or support us, we lose vitality—our “shimmering skin.”

Snakes shed regularly to grow, release their old skin, prevent parasites from embedding, and stay healthy. This shedding process demands slowing down and a period of non-action and inward focus—a time of retreat and stillness. It is a natural cycle that cannot be rushed.

The scientific term for this process is Ecdysis. It can last from 9 to 14 days, depending on the snake species, and occurs 2 to 4 times a year.

Having lived with my Royal Python Syd for seven years, I would like to guide you through the stages of shedding, as I have observed them over the years with him.

The Shedding Process

Days 1–2: Retreat, Dulling, Hiding

The snake rests and stops eating. Whenever I watch Syd entering his shedding process, there is a palpable energetic heaviness around him as he retreats and hides away. His skin dulls and becomes lifeless, and sometimes he stays in his hide throughout the whole process.

As humans, there are times when we know that we need to ‘shed’ what no longer serves us, such as outdated beliefs, patterns, work, or relationships that we have outgrown. As with the snake, such times of letting go require introspection and retreat—taking time to be with ourselves, reflect, and let new paths, opportunities, or patterns appear.

Days 3–7: Opaque Eyes and Limited Vision

At this stage, the snake’s eyes become cloudy and bluish as fluid accumulates between the new and the old skin layer. It’s a time when handling or feeding is not recommended, as the limited vision can make the snake feel vulnerable and irritable.

Times of change can be challenging, and we might find ourselves in a stage of limbo: the old is falling away, and we cannot yet see the new form. We might feel disoriented, and our vision, like that of the snake, is limited. We are ‘in the dark’ or ‘near blind.’

Such times of uncertainty and transition can feel hard to bear, and it is common to experience higher levels of anxiety or even depression, regardless of whether we choose consciously to let go of something or we are hit by changes such as bereavement, sudden illness, menopause, redundancy, etc.

If we are struggling at this stage, it is helpful to remember the natural process and the hope built into it: shedding cannot be rushed and will take its time, but it will happen, and we will gain a new, fresh skin.

The clouded eyes of a shedding snake have long been associated with trance and oracular wisdom. The ancient earth serpent Python at the Oracle of Delphi was asked for guidance and divination by the priestesses. So too may we seek guidance during times of profound change, be it through therapy, coaching, or indeed drawing on the wisdom of the snakes.

Days 7–10: Preparing to Shed

During this stage, the snake’s eyes clear up, indicating that shedding is near. Its body may appear darker, and closer to shedding time, it might immerse in water to help the process.

At one stage, we might drop deeper into the process and come to a place of acceptance and surrender. During most times of transition, there is a stage when we have flashes of what the future could look like. We still haven’t ‘shed’ the old properly, but we are getting ready.

And we begin to vision: Maybe I could really do this? Maybe this is the new path opening? We might even help the process along by exploring options or seeking support and guidance from friends, loved ones, or professionals.

Days 10–12: The Shedding

The final stage of the process, the actual ‘sloughing’ of the skin, is usually very quick—often as short as 20 minutes—and happens frequently at night. When the time is right, the snake rubs its head on a rough surface, like a rock, to create an opening, then slithers out of its old skin.

In ideal conditions with adequate warmth and humidity, the snake sheds its skin in one continuous piece, including over the eye caps. During all the years, I have never directly witnessed Syd’s shedding—it has remained a deeply mysterious process.

As with the snake, the buildup to change might take much longer than the final shedding. We might feel constricted and oppressed by a job that no longer matches our needs or a toxic relationship. Yet it might take a long process of introspection and preparation until we are finally able to let go.

The shedding itself is the final act and often less painful once we have created an ‘opening’ inside our psyche for this change. The rubbing against a rough surface to create an opening in the old skin is an instinctual action for the snake. For us humans, such a rupture might appear as a sudden occurrence or intervention that acts as a catalyst for change.

I remember deliberating for many months about leaving my job as an Art Psychotherapist in mental health services. I felt stuck and constricted and had outgrown my time there, but I was too scared to leave without having another work opportunity lined up. One evening as I cycled through the streets of South London on my way to my work supervisor, a car knocked me off my bike. I got away with bruises and shock, but the bike was completely flattened—the driver had driven right over it. Staring at the bike, I realised how this mangled mess could have been me. I gave notice the next day and left my job a few weeks afterwards.

The accident had become like the rock on which the snake rubbed its head—a rupture that created an opening for me to shed the old skin of my job.

The New Skin:
Each shedding brings regeneration: the skin is fresh, iridescent, and sparkly. Snake emerges from its hide, revitalised, hungry, and usually happy to be handled.
I often observed Syd after his shedding roaming around the vivarium, signalling that he is happy to interact, be handled, or eat, and there is a palpable shift in energy.
And this is the time when I usually find the shed skin somewhere hidden.

Snakes are odourless, but the old shed skin smells, so in the wild they like to leave their old skins behind as far as possible from where they roam so as not to attract predators. What a great teaching too: once we shed, we do not need to return to the old, but can trust that a real change has occurred.

Snakes usually also defecate straight after shedding—another form of release.
Once I had left my job and shed the skin of working in psychiatric services, I stretched into my ‘new skin’: I trained as a firewalk instructor and started my own private practice in a different city, practicing Art Therapy and adding practices such as shamanic counselling and breathwork.

It is fascinating how human transformation mirrors the snake shedding process and vice versa.
When we connect and resonate with the symbolism, like the tale of Phoenix rising from the ashes, ‘shedding’ is an invitation for us to renew and begin a new cycle.

And even if we find ourselves in a state of deep disorientation after entering a period of deep change, we can draw comfort from the natural process and tune into this aspect of Snake Medicine. The promise is that after the shed, we will have a shiny new skin, and renewed energy and zest!

But as for the snakes, shedding is not a one-off process and we will encounter many periods of ‘shedding’ throughout our lives.
Sometimes familiar challenges will raise their head again and again.
‘But I’ve let this go ages ago!’ we might lament. ‘I thought I had shed this pattern.’
Snake Medicine teaches us that shedding is cyclical, a lifelong process of release and letting go that allows for ongoing growth and vitality.
And, although ideal conditions—solitude, the right environment, supportive humidity—can help snakes to shed in the best way, we can neither hurry the shedding along nor do it for the snake. The only time we support a snake is if it had a ‘bad shed’ where pieces of old skin are still stuck to it—in that case we might bathe the snake and gently remove the remaining skin.
Similarly, as humans, we cannot do the shedding for another. How often do we think others should change? “Why don’t you leave that job? Get out of that toxic relationship! Stop this self-sabotaging self-talk,” we might urge, advise, or plead, but we cannot do the shedding for them.
Snake reminds us that transformation cannot be hurried or forced by others: it’s an intensely personal and intimate process, happening in its own divine timing that unfolds with the right conditions.

Snake as a guide and ally in times of change:

During major life transitions, such as the start of a relationship, bereavement, childbirth, new work, illness, or menopause, we may need a space for retreat. Many traditional communities honour these times of change and transition with Rites of Passage rituals or ceremonies, creating a safe space for individuals to retreat and undergo initiation.
Snakes show us a way to honour these important times of our lives. Whatever the ‘old skin’ we have outgrown and are struggling to shed, we can always call on snake as our ally.

Snake teaches us the value of retreat and descent into the unconscious of our psyche, where, as Depth Psychologist C.G. Jung would say, we confront our ‘shadows’: unconscious aspects of the psyche that we might reject or suppress because they seem incompatible with our persona—our conscious self-image. But these hidden traits that we might perceive as negative or undesirable hold both destructive potential and the possibility for personal growth when we acknowledge and integrate them.

Snake’s preparation for shedding symbolises entering a liminal space, a state of transition where such deep meeting with our shadows and integration of it can occur.

Finally, the cyclical shedding of snake can be seen as preparation for the ultimate shedding process—death.

Snake offers this insight: ‘Shed and let go of what does no longer serves you. We're not asking you to let go of what is not ripe, but when you are ready, you must not hang on to it. And when you do this again and again in your life, death will be easy. You just slither out of this life, out of your skin, out of your body as we do.
It will be effortless.’

Here are some questions you might want to journal about for deeper enquiry:

• What do you need to let go of? What “skin” do you need to shed?

• What does no longer serve you, what have you outgrown?

• What are you ready to shed now, at this moment?

• What do you need to leave behind to have the life you are aching to have?

• What has become unnecessary? A hindrance rather than an asset?

• What is the necessary risk you need to take?

• What is the new skin you want to inhabit, stretch into and shine in?
  
  
  
  The shedding process, both literal and metaphorical, reminds us of the cyclical nature of life. It is an opportunity to release the old, embrace the new, and move forward with renewed strength and clarity. Like the snake, we are called to trust the process and honour the timing of our personal transformations.

Remember, there is no rush. Growth and renewal happen in their own time, and the wisdom of Snake Medicine teaches us to surrender to the flow of life with grace and courage.