Mother Dragon

When I was a little girl, I wanted a dragon. I imagined her to be beautiful, powerful and majestic. The Mother Dragon. Whenever I wanted to go to some far away land, or simply go for a ride, I could summon her telepathically, she’d wake up, come get me, and off we’d go. I imagined that whenever I found myself in trouble, she’d be there for me, ready to fight for me. She’d inexplicably show up from out of nowhere and catch me on the off chance I fell off a cliff; she’d reach me right before I hit the water. All the kids that ostracized me or the adults that had “bad energy” around them and came near me, well, my dragon would burn them alive. Alas, as a highly empathic and sensitive child, I immediately regretted that decision… I still dream of my dragon. I still dream that she comes to rescue me. And that’s an interesting term, isn’t it? Rescue. When the weight of the world gets too heavy, I imagine her swooping in and rescuing me. My world was turned upside down with my husband’s late stage cancer diagnosis in February of this year. 2020 was a walk in the park compared to that one month in 2021. You bet I wanted that dragon to come rescue me. I felt like I had no recourse for self-care. Everything went dark. There wasn’t space for anything but taking care of my husband, my kids, running a business, being House Manager of our home, PR rep for the family, each separately and collectively. I was last, again, as usual. And I was sick and f*&^ing tired of it. Why this? Why now? What does it mean? What am I supposed to do? How do I heal my husband? How do I run my healing practice this way? How do I help my kids? How do I help myself? I went into “doing” mode and stayed there until recently. My priorities had to shift, swiftly and dramatically, as I began to navigate the tumultuous waters that threatened my ability to BREATHE at any given moment. I was treading water while holding the ship above my head. Mother Dragon was nowhere to be found. I was on my own. Until I wasn’t. There, in the dark corner. She was there all along. It was I who was ignoring her calls to be summoned. She literally sent me to the fire multiple times to get my attention. Thanks to the grace of the universe and the earth angels that surround me, she led me to many a fire pit where I found myself releasing, decompressing, yelling, crying, laughing, swearing, raging. She sent me to the fire so I could see her. She sent me to the fire so I could see me. We have since rekindled our longtime relationship. We have coffee together, we laugh together. She’s the one who helps me to re-member that she and I are the same energy, the same essence, the same spirit in this human body, and that cannot be forgotten. I am the one who will rescue me. I am the one who will learn my lessons. I am the one who chooses to re-prioritize, re-evaluate, re-consider and re-direct the trajectory of my path with the light of Mother Dragon’s illuminating fire. She and I share the bond that creates the vision of the path that lay before me. Now and always, I only see my loving husband in full and complete health, and I expect miracles. And so it is. I am beginning to see a change in my work which better positions me to share my gifts and talents with the world. And so it is. I see my writing evolve into what I’ve always wanted it to. And so it is. I recognize my children for the beautiful sensitive souls they are, and I remain proud and present with them. And so it is. The dragon that lay in the shadows isn’t anything to be feared. It’s not there to light US on fire. It’s there to inspire and re-veal our very own truth that we are powerful beings when we embrace it. As we grow and evolve, our experiences eventually inform us of who we are and of what we can do. When we look to our shadow for help, that’s when we learn what we are truly capable of and she encourages us to keep one foot in front of the other, just like any good mother. That kind of knowledge and feeling doesn’t go away. It only builds. It’s like wisdom, no one can take it away from you. It’s always going to remain in the library of your mind. When I dreamt of being saved by my Mother Dragon, loved by her, protected by her, it was really just a part of me that I didn’t recognize yet. No one is going to save me. No one is going to save my children. No one is going to save my husband. We are all going to save ourselves. And collectively, those are some pretty powerful dragons that get to fly together. I’d encourage you to face your Mother Dragon. Put your hand out, let her sniff it, and then go gently from there.

Thanks for listening. Love, Julie.