Snake Bite

Urban Sadhu Exploration July 2025

Om namo bhagavate vasudevaya

Meaning: I bow to the Lord who lives in the hearts of all beings.  – Austin Sanderson

Long ago, in a village far away, stood a big tree in the village square. In the roots of this tree lived a king cobra. This cobra was not very kind to the villagers. From the tree's roots, it would often lunge out and bite passersby, killing many. No one was spared from the cobra’s aggression.

The community leaders sought the help of a wise Sadhu who lived in the forest. They said, “We can’t go on like this. The snake is killing so many villagers—adults and children alike. Can you do something?”

The Sadhu agreed. He went to the village square and called the cobra from its nest:“Snake, you must stop jumping out at innocent passersby, biting them, and killing them. You must practice Ahimsa—nonviolence—and see your neighbors as kindred souls.”

The cobra replied, “All right. I will follow your wisdom teachings because you are a great Sadhu. I will practice Ahimsa and strive to see my neighbors as kindred souls.” The Sadhu gave the cobra his blessings.

A few months passed, and the Sadhu returned to the village, wondering what had become of the cobra. He went to look for the snake in the tree, but it was not in its nest. Eventually, he found the unfortunate creature—its body stretched out, beaten, bruised, and broken, barely clinging to life.

“What on earth happened to you?” the Sadhu asked.

“This is the result of nonviolence!” the cobra replied. “Look what the villagers have done to me. I lie here peacefully, and because they no longer fear me, they come and stone me, beat me, spit on me, and call me awful names!”

The Sadhu looked at the snake with compassion and said, “You misunderstood. I told you not to bite—I didn’t tell you not to hiss.”

Ahimsa is more multifaceted than it may seem on the surface. The moral of the cobra story is that we must apply the concept of Ahimsa to ourselves. It’s important to protect ourselves—physically, emotionally, and mentally—from unjustified aggression. A yogi must remember that our bodies and minds are precious gifts that allow us to practice our Yoga Sadhana.

Yes, the cobra had been violent in the past, but he had turned over a new leaf, making an effort to live peacefully within the community. Unfortunately, this was seen as weakness. The cobra failed to understand the complexity of Ahimsa as a form of self-preservation.

One of the great misconceptions of Ahimsa (nonviolence or nonviolation) is that its practice turns us into passive doormats to be trampled by aggressors. This is far from the truth. Self-preservation is a key aspect of any Yoga Sadhana—and self-preservation is self-awareness. Yoga requires us to become more aware, focused, and conscious both within and without. Establishing healthy boundaries and even standing up for oneself can be part of that expansion.

Cobras, like humans, have many non-lethal defensive tools. The asana Bhujangasana (cobra seat) represents the cobra’s first line of defense—lifting its head and expanding its hood using the upper back muscles. When we perform this asana, the elbows remain bent, the shoulders roll back, the scapulae move down the thoracic spine, and the lateral muscles fan out. The legs squeeze together; the pelvis, legs, and even the tops of the feet remain grounded. Bhujangasana is less a stretch and more a demonstration of strength. It is an asana (seat) of alertness and engagement, not a passive front-body extension dumped into the lower lumbar spine.

If further warning is needed, the cobra hisses—embodied in the asana Raja Bhujangasana (king cobra seat). This remonstrative asana is energetically similar to Urdhva Mukha Svanasana (Upward Facing Dog) but intensified. In Raja Bhujangasana, the pelvis stays grounded. The spine lifts out of the pelvis, creating space between the vertebrae as all the back muscles contract. The hands walk back near the pelvis, shoulders stack over the wrists, and the fingers press into the ground. Unlike in Bhujangasana, the legs do not squeeze together; they are apart to allow the quadriceps to lengthen. The knees bend, the head drops back, the toes point, and the big toes touch the crown of the head. This fantastically advanced backbend could stop any hostile party in their tracks, allowing us to practice Ahimsa that is mutually beneficial.

At heart, a yogi is always striving to be peaceful—yet violence is woven into modern culture. Ahimsa is a personal, ethical, and moral discipline that supports self-study and helps us understand the complexities of the human mind and its potential for violence.

Many triggers can cause violent behavior: anger, jealousy, fear, exposure to violence, social influence, low self-esteem, lack of respect, past abuse, or mental illness. For some, violence is seen as a means of resolving conflict or gaining control. But yogis seek healthier, safer alternatives. While we can strive to live peacefully, we must also understand that we cannot control the actions of others. For others to embody Ahimsa, they too must be willing to seek a peaceful way of coexistence—and recognize the divine spark (Bhagavan) in all beings everywhere.

Austin Sanderson, Urban Sadhu