Photo courtesy of Microsoft |
Approximately two
weeks ago, the local news reported that a white cobra was loose in a
neighborhood in Thousand Oaks, California. Residents responded to this information
in various ways. Many were understandably frightened by the prospect of having
an exotic, venomous snake potentially slithering around their property and told
reporters that they would secure their livestock in barns and keep domestic
pets inside until it was caught. Others seemed to take a more measured
approach, explaining how they would continue to live their lives as usual but
would avoid areas where the snake was last seen or biologists warned it might
hide. Another person (or persons) even went to social media and created a
Twitter account for the cobra so the snake could post updates on its
whereabouts and, presumably, add some levity to a very tense situation.
I was surprised that
my reaction to the news that a cobra was loose in a local neighborhood was one
of curiosity rather than terror. If I lived anywhere near where the snake had
been spotted or if I kept my horse out there, I probably would have been beside
myself with anxiety and concern. My subconscious mental script was already
familiar with the idea that venomous snakes live in Southern California: anyone
who owns or rides horses here knows to be on the lookout for rattlesnakes
hiding in a hay barn or slithering across the path on a trail. Of course, the
idea of a lethal exotic (and comparatively rare) snake slithering around a
suburban neighborhood is a different story.
But ever since I
earned my hypnotherapy certification in 2005, my attitude and expectations
about various situations I have encountered during my life have changed. As
soon as I heard about the loose cobra, I was quickly able to activate the
reasoning, logic, will-power and decision-making faculties in my conscious mind
to determine whether I or anyone I knew was in immediate danger: No. Even if I
had been, past experience dealing with animal control and law-enforcement
officers reassured me that these professionals were trained to deal with
various threats, including unexpected ones posed by wild animals that the
average citizens probably never consider. I was confident that I could have put my trust and faith
in their recommendations to keep myself and my animals out of its way until it was
caught. Also, I trusted that the survival instinct in my (and just about every
other person’s) subconscious mind was strong enough to avoid unnecessary risk
and avoid areas where I knew/heard the animal had last been seen or was likely
to hide.
Something else
helped me take a more measured perspective about the possible danger posed by
that cobra. I knew various mental tools
with which I could re-frame what I initially believed to be a no-win situation
and turn it into an opportunity to learn something new: i.e., look up
information about the biology and natural habitat of cobras. That kind of
lesson would be far more beneficial for me than indulging in toxic worry about
a situation over which I and most of the residents of that Thousand Oaks
neighborhood had little control.
Fortunately, the
snake was safely caught and removed from that community the next day and no
humans or animals were victims of its lethal bite. Another positive thing to
come out of this situation is that everyone who was affected by this experience
now has a new “known” in his or her repertoire of mental scripts. While it is
unlikely any Southern California residents will have to deal with another cobra
loitering by their swimming pool, if this scenario is ever repeated, we will have
some idea what to expect and how to handle the situation.