A fierce cobra terrified the village boys so greatly that they dared not venture near his territory. One day a monk was walking on his alms rounds through the village when a boy warned him not to venture near the abode of the vicious serpent. The monk told the boy not to worry, for he knew a mantra that would calm the serpent. He was speaking the truth: when the snake slithered forward to attack him, the monk intoned the mantra and the snake became peaceful. Then the yogi gave the snake a dhamma talk explaining that he should not harm anyone. The snake understood. But when the village boys discovered the snake had lost his ferocity, they began to torment him. One even picked him up and slammed him repeatedly against a sharp rock until he was broken and bleeding, then left him for dead.Somehow the snake survived. When the monk saw the cobra again some weeks later, he was shocked. The snake was surprised—but you told me to be peaceful! he said. So I did, said the monk in exasperation, I asked you not to bite, but did I tell you not to hiss?“
- My adaptation of the ancient fable of the cobra
Learning to defend myself has been a lifelong practice.
When we have experienced being stepped on, as a snake might simply because of the nature of its physical body, we may fight back. As the snake bites when it is stepped on, this reaction is unconscious.
This could be likened to a „fight“ response – a reflex that an organism in danger develops to protect itself. Better than being squashed or smashed against a rock, right?
When you’re neurodivergent you get used to being dismissed or ignored (more on „Cassandra“ or „The Emperor’s New Clothes“ in later posts). But you are also often subjected to attacks – either subtle (see „The Princess and the Pea“) – but more often because, like the snake, you are „lowly“ or „asking for it.“
If we were to use other animals as a metaphor for our instinctive reaction to danger, we would see the same function in creatures that run away („flight“ response), that stand rooted in place even when a car’s headlights are bearing down on them („freeze“response) or even those who try to please or placate the one causing danger („fawn“ response – thanks to Pete Walker for this – more on CTPSD in a later post).
We humans are indeed animals, with instincts and hormones and chemistry, and these automatic survival mechanisms kept our ancestors alive. It’s in our nature, yet we also have a mind that can reflect, learn, analyse, and choose a better course of action. Through our intelligence, as well as our nature as social beings, we can learn. Even when our „divergence“ makes us attractive to bullies, even when we trigger an „uncanny valley“ reaction in neurotypical people, neurodivergent people try to get along and survive, and do use our discernment and pattern recognition to try to manage social situations.
When our instinctive reactions to danger are not reflected on, like the aggressive cobra in the fable, we may bite even when not in danger, with no provocation whatsover. If we are overwhelmed, or hungry or angry or lonely, this is even more the case. We may lash out at someone trying to help, but we may also run away into addictions, including socially acceptable addictions such as workaholism, or spend days rotting in bed, or be unable to set boundaries or stand up for ourselves at all.
And humans are known for carrying out wars, enacting revenge, holding grudges. We carry out preemptive strikes. We take what we tell ourselves is „ours.“ We act led by greed and hatred, and we cause harm. And in addition to blaming others, we may also blame ourselves.
When the cobra bites everyone who comes along indiscriminately, it puts itself in danger. Everyone who learns about it goes into the forest prepared to kill it on sight. The villagers carry clubs and are on high alert, ready to strike anything, even another snake, even a tree root. But if the cobra, tired of being attacked, just lies there passively, it is equally in danger.
The wise snake in the fable who had access to the Buddhist teachings was in such a predicament. Biting created more aggression, but remaining passive and not defending itself put it into more danger. Through the teachings it learned from a wise teacher, it discovered a middle way: it could hiss to scare off attackers without actually harming them or escalating the situation.
Learning to hiss and not bite is how we become human. This is not something we have to justify to anyone else, but rather to our own sense of rightness.
Autismus Fortbildungen - Anne Kirkham 
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