The dragon sleeps. I’m afraid to wake her. She is big. And … fierce. She wants to write this chapter, but I’m afraid she will burn this chapter. She will burn this book. She will burn it all…the fuck…down.

 

She lives low in my belly. I try not to go there. I get a whiff of her stirring and I rush back up to my head. I try to figure it out. See if there is a way around actually letting her talk. How can I avoid the awfulness of her awakening? I’ll do anything to keep her quiet.

 

I run. I toss and turn. I frown, fret, yell, avoid, sit still, pound the walls, try to let go, pretend to surrender. I am in agony.

 

I feel her tail tingling my pelvis. My whole body in goose bumps.

 

This is an old dance. She and I. This dance of forgetting and remembering. She remembers. I forsake her. Over and over again. Will I do it again this time?

 

She pokes me in my kidney. Her legs are cramped and she wants out. Her tail swishes.

 

I’ve had a story that no one can be with my dragon. I’ve attracted situation after situation of people close to me showing me, telling me, reflecting to me that they can’t be with my power.

 

They don’t know the half of it.

 

If they knew, they would run the other direction – before all hell breaks loose. I won’t be able to protect them from the flames.

 

It’s lonely here with my dragon. I’m ashamed of this pet that I keep. Why can’t I just be normal like everyone else? I want to be loved. I want to be close to other people. I want to be held and nurtured, but I can’t. I don’t.

 

I want to open the door and have the dragon fly away, but I love her too much. Even if I’m terrified of her. Also, I can’t imagine who I would be if I wasn’t the Keeper of the Dragon.

 

This is a painful conundrum we’ve got going on here. The dragon squished low in the nether regions of my body and me inhabiting only my head. We neither one have enough room to stretch ourselves out and luxuriate. We’re cramped and pissy. We’re growling and sending smoke signals to each other. To call it an uneasy truce is an overstatement. Something’s gotta give.

 

I go get some water. It’s HOT in here. Maybe I can cool things down. Rethink this a little.

 

Now maybe I’ll read some e-mails, see what’s happening on Facebook. Oh… some laundry needs folded, or I could always try to go back to sleep.

 

My dragon harrumphs and turns away from me. Disgusted. Knowing she’s not getting out today.

 

I do go check Facebook. (What else can you do when it is 4:00 am and your dragon won’t let you sleep?)

 

Someone just reposted a quote from my page. It’s by Sue Monk Kidd, “There’s no place so awake and so alive as the edge of becoming.”

 

Ha! The irony is not lost on me. Looks like the FB friend and I are both up against our edges. AWAKE and becoming at 4:00 am.

 

My stomach is on FIRE. My dragon didn’t think that was funny. She is literally growling at me now. She’s not going to let my sarcasm and snarky wit win the day.

 

I pull a card to stall for time. It’s the Web Weaver. She tells me that all things are connected. Magic is afoot. It’s time to do something different and watch for the miracle. It is time. There is a tiny dragon at the foot of the Sorceress on this card.

 

I trust magic. I am scared. I am going to the biomat to birth my dragon. If I don’t return… I told you so.

 

4 comments

  • Lorna

    Jody – Uh, are we the same person?! The synchronicities are wild and wonderful with your work and my awakening. The Wild Queen and her horse – came to me in a dream just the other day. Estes’ “Women Who Run With the Wolves” a few days after that. And then just this morning, finally a break in my inner prison – the realization that the reason I have held myself back and my truth in is because when I have shared my truth, real, raw and powerful, with others, they have all, to a person (except for my Beloved, for whom I am so grateful!) told me my truth was like poison, too powerful, too much. A seductive and delicious poison, but poison nonetheless. No wonder nothing’s working in my life anymore. Because I am keeping my poison in and it is turning on me. And what is that poison? Your dragon. The beautiful and terrifying power of the Dark Goddess. Thank you, Sister Queen for your beauty, rawness and power.

    I for one will not run from the unleashed power of your inner dragon. For I, too, am a Wild Woman Queen with her own brand of dragon-ness inside. And the more we open our mouths and let the fire out, the easier all we, Sister Wild Queens, can find each other.

  • Kelly

    Beautiful. Resonates to my very core. I am glad I found you, Wild One!!!

  • Christine Maynard

    There is humor in the realization that many appreciate your dragon as metaphor. It is anything but that. It is real. I do not know if all women have one. Perhaps they do, but some seem inchoate, unfelt. Physically, one’s dragon will prevail. Ill health is its trump card. Belly swelling, pressured lymphatics.Better to let it burst out and burn the damn place down. You know we transmute from the ashes.
    Thank you.

  • Naomi

    Mmmm thank you for this deep wisdom. My dragon bows & fire flares from her grateful mouth & throat.

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