This year marks the Year of the Snake, according to the Chinese astrological calendar, which will slither into the Lunar New Year at the end of January. At first glance, the snake might seem like a less grand counterpart to the mighty dragon, who soared away in farewell earlier in the week. But the snake is perhaps the quintessential symbol of wisdom. In both the Chinese and Tibetan astrological schema, snakes possess “a strong sense of confidence, leadership, and a strong personality . . . they will be active, social, confident, and very capable of holding their own.” (Tsemrinpoche.com) Snakes are also mysterious, charismatic, and accomplished.

The snake, found in various cultures of antiquity and wisdom, is more ubiquitous than the lung or Chinese dragon. It is also more prominent in Buddhism. In last year’s Buddhistdoor View, we mentioned nagas, enlightened beings with (usually) serpentine lower bodies and humanoid upper bodies and faces. They are upheld in Buddhist myth because they are associated with the third-century Indian Buddhist philosopher Nagarjuna, who retrieved the Perfection of Wisdom scriptures from the realm of serpent-beings.

The 2023 exhibition “Tree & Serpent” at the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York, which was supported by the Robert H. N. Ho Family Foundation Global, highlighted the presence of snakes in pre-Buddhist and early Buddhist art. This included that of Mucalinda, who, according to the Mucalinda Sutta, provided shade to Siddhartha Gautama on the eve of his enlightenment. Gautama himself was not always who he was destined to be. On that night, thanks to Mucalinda’s help, he experienced his own transformation into a buddha.

In our 2024 New Year editorial, we described the transformative nature of the dragon, and how it represented the protean power to be anything, from morning mist to thundering waves to a flowing creek. It is interesting that the snake also represents change and transformation, most obviously through shedding its skin: its “old self” falls away, revealing a “new self” that happens to maintain some continuity with the past.

This might sound analogous to the philosophical mystery of anatman (Skt. no-self), which has preoccupied Buddhist thinkers until the modern period. If the soul/self does not exist, what carries on into our endless rebirths within samsara? And who is liberated when someone attains enlightenment?

The Buddha was insistent on this most counterintuitive of spiritual insights, unique to the world’s major religions. It is the philosophical hub around which the wheel of Buddhist teachings rotates. Even with the advent of science, we still do not truly understand the nature of the relationship between consciousness and our construction of self.

So intense was this age-old debate that an entire school of Buddhist epistemology evolved from the question of self and consciousness. This school was the vijnapti-matrata school (also known in various translations as Consciousness-Only, Mind-Only, or Mere Consciousness), which arose in the fourth century under the intellectual aegis of brothers Asanga and Vasubhandu. In many ways, its complex schema of eight kinds of consciousness, with the eighth being the store or substratum consciousness (Skt: alayavijnana). In regard to this storehouse consciousness, according to the online Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy:

. . . actions produce karmic seeds (bīja) or impressions (vāsanā), i.e., potentialities or dispositions for future experiences and perceptions, which are retained, as in a sort of “container” or “store”, in the ālayavijñāna until they are ready to produce their effects. . .

According to the Yogācāras, the continuous operation of the ālayavijñāna grounds karmic continuity and efficacy over both one and multiple lifetimes and ensures that karmic results belong to the same personal “continuum” that committed the action. (Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy)

By understanding the Yogacara way, we can be like the snake: moving toward positive change, while being mindful of what preceded and how it affects our shaping of the present and therefore the future.

We could perhaps say that, like a snake, we shed what is no longer useful, beneficial, or productive to our well-being, allowing what has vexed us to slough away.

It is probably easier to let go of material things. But releasing inner negativities is also part of the conversation. We plant the karmic seeds that are at least positive so that good and wholesome outcomes may germinate. We might not necessarily be set on extinguishing karma altogether, which in the orthodox Buddhist view is key to liberation, but we could be like a snake: constantly, with forward motion or momentum, periodically ridding oneself of that which needs to go and welcoming the new with open arms (which the snake does figuratively).

Problems and sorrows remain. The snake’s worries are not over just because it has shed its skin. We should learn from the other quality that the serpent has represented across multiple cultures since ancient times, from Egypt to Greece to India: wisdom. We can try to discern our direction for the coming year. We can prepare ourselves for navigating inevitable challenges to meet them with both vigor and equanimity.

Fresh from riding the scaly back of 2024’s dragon, we can now ground ourselves on solid earth and put transformation into practice. We can practice non-attachment, seeking a quiet mind, and open ourselves to change.

Can we be as confident and natural as the snake in allowing the old to fall away?

Given 2025’s association with the snake, and Buddhism’s close ties to the naga, there is no better year to celebrate the transformative power of prajna.

See more

The Snake and the Five Elements (Tsemrinpoche.com)
Yogācāra (Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy)

Related news reports from BDG

“Tree and Serpent” Exhibition Brings Buddhist Art to the Met in New York

Related features from BDG

Buddhistdoor View: Here Be Dragons – A Year of Transformation and Thunderstorms
The Iconography of Nagas, Part Six: Finding True Meaning
The Iconography of Nagas, Part Five: Prajnaparamita and the Nature of Reality
The Iconography of Nagas, Part Four: Chaos and Creation
The Iconography of Nagas, Part Three: DNA in History
The Iconography of Nagas, Part Two: Syncretism and Science
The Iconography of Nagas, Part One: Serpentine Folklore from the Abyssal Chasm

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