I don’t know about snake oil, but I sure have snake milk
This is a reflection on shedding, grief, and the quiet in-between moments before something new begins.
I am milking every last opportunity of the Year of the Snake.
I am milking every opportunity to align my mind, body, and spirit as congruently as possible
so I can be the best version of myself for the Year of the Horse.
Because transitions don’t rush, and neither does truth.
The longest part of 2026 and into 2027 will be a year of new beginnings, and I want to put my best foot forward by the time I get to February 17th.
The Year of the Snake is teaching me truth.
It’s allowing me to release and shed as much as possible
so I can step into the next lunar year aligned
and free of what used to hold me back
so I can propel and expand with what comes next.
And I grieve.
Because I’ve worn this skin and these patterns for a long time.
So it makes sense to feel sadness for what I no longer have
and fear for what’s new, unfamiliar, and uncomfortable.
And still
I can enjoy moments of wild freedom as I take congruent steps forward, aligning my Self and my Soul with real momentum.
Sometimes clarity feels close enough to taste.
Does anyone else know that feeling?
I can live in the grey of more than one thing being true.
Because any mix of grey lets me see more clearly.
I can feel the grief and loss that comes with shedding
and feel deep gratitude for the chance to shed at all.
Both belong.
Both are true.
A quick note on the Lunar New Year:
The Lunar New Year marks a shift in energetic cycles, not just a date on a calendar. Each year carries a different theme.
The Year of the Snake is associated with truth, shedding, intuition, and deep inner recalibration, making it a powerful time to release what no longer fits before stepping into what’s next.
The Year of the Horse that follows brings movement, momentum, and forward motion.
Where the Snake asks us to slow down, shed, and tell the truth, the Horse asks us to move with what we’ve learned boldly, instinctively, and with trust in our own direction. Think EXPANSION.
Preparation matters here. What you release now determines how freely you can run later.
With uncomfortable hope,
Candice
P.S. If this reflection resonates and you’d like a container to honor this transition, I’m hosting a virtual moon ritual on February 17th to celebrate the first new moon of the lunar year. You’re warmly invited to join. Details below or click here.
