06/25/2026
The Universal Serpent
The Myth That Unwinds the Crooked Horse
Part I — Thuben, the Serpent of the Sky
Before kings measured time and before the stars were given names, there was only the Great Tree. Its roots reached into the hidden waters beneath creation, while its highest branches touched the sea of stars.
Around this tree coiled Thuben, the First Serpent.
He was not a creature of deception but of remembrance. Each ring of his body marked an age of the world. Every time humanity forgot the laws of balance, Thuben tightened his coils, preserving the Tree from collapse until harmony could return.
His scales reflected the heavens. By day they carried the light of the sun; by night they became the pathways of the stars. Sailors, shepherds, and wise men looked upward to find him, for wherever his head rested, north could be found.
When the heavens slowly turned and another star replaced his throne, people believed Thuben had vanished.
The elders knew differently.
"A guardian does not disappear," they said. "He simply waits where fewer eyes are looking."
They taught that the Tree was not merely a tree but the pattern from which all living things grow. Its trunk was the path between earth and heaven. Its branches spread into countless possibilities. Its roots held the memory of every generation.
Thuben's task was to keep these realms connected.
Whenever pride caused humanity to separate heaven from earth, spirit from matter, or wisdom from power, the Tree weakened. Then the serpent would move again—not to punish, but to restore the forgotten center of balance.
Those who encountered Thuben in dreams were never given riches or prophecy. Instead, they received a single question:
"What in your life has become unbalanced?"
Only after answering honestly could they continue climbing the Tree.
Some traditions called him the Dragon of the North. Others remembered him only as a star. A few whispered that every true horseman, shepherd, or keeper of living things eventually meets him. Not in the sky, but in the quiet recognition that balance is not created by force, it's gifted as the birthright, symmetry.
For Thuben is not merely the serpent around the Tree.
He is the circle that protects the center.
He is the guardian of orientation.
And as long as the Tree still stands between earth and heaven, the old serpent continues his silent watch, waiting for those who choose balance over domination, and remembrance over forgetting.
Part II — The Wisdom of the Universal Serpent and the Horse
Never doubt the stories of old.
The ancients clothed their deepest observations in myth. What appears to be fantasy may instead be a language for patterns that are difficult to describe in modern words.
I have come to see the story of Thuben, the Universal Serpent, as a symbol of balance itself. The serpent's coils do not bind the horse, they reveal the hidden geometry that create balance in every living creature.
Every horse enters life carrying its own history of adaptation. Some stand square; others inherit subtle asymmetries that shape movement, posture, and behavior. To me, the serpent's wisdom is the ability to perceive those invisible spirals of compensation and patiently unwind them rather than fight against them.
As the coils are released, resistance often gives way to softness. Crookedness begins to resolve. The horse discovers a balance that was always present beneath the compensating coils.
For more than twenty-five years, I searched for the source of that transformation. I eventually realized I was rediscovering something very old.
The myth had become a map.
The Universal Serpent became a teacher.
The horse the method of proof.
Not because a serpent physically guides my hands, but because the story gave me a way to recognize what I could not previously explain: that beneath every crooked horse lies an invisible pattern waiting to be unwound.
Whether one understands this through biomechanics, symbolism, or another framework, the lesson remains the same: true balance is restored rather than imposed. The wisdom of Thuban is found 8n the spirals of DNA.
When I help a horse find that forgotten center, the changes can appear almost miraculous. Yet I have come to believe they are simply the visible expression of an ancient principle we don't believe and choose not to remembered.
Never dismiss the stories of old.
They may preserve observations of a symbolic language that still has something to teach us.
When their wisdom is recognized and carefully applied, they do not lead us away from reality.
They lead us back to balance.
