Fight Your Dragon To The Death

In mythology, dragons sleep on a bed of gold. If you want the gold you have to fight the dragon. This idea appears over and over again in books, films and everyday life. In order to obtain the treasure, whatever that might be, one must face a great danger and overcome it. 

Ahab must battle Moby Dick for pride and glory. Luke Skywalker must fight Darth Vader to discover the truth about his father and overcome the Empire. Arjuna must go to war against his own family to reach enlightenment. Popeye must fight Bluto for Olive Oyl’s affections.

You get the picture.

This creative device – the dragon or whatever it might be – is obviously a metaphor for fear. We all have our dragons, and they stand between us and the treasure we seek. We might not call it fear. It might not feel like fear. In fact, it might come wrapped up as something else entirely. It might sound a bit like “I’m not clever enough to do that.” Or “He’ll never agree to it”. Or “what will people think?”

Sometimes, though, it might feel like actual fear. We might start to shake when our phone rings and we see it’s our boss calling. Or when someone shouts at us. When we have a disagreement with someone we love. When someone is unexpectedly rude or assertive. When a deadline is looming, and we haven’t done the work. When the memory of a past trauma leaves us shivering and paralysed.

I am going to get into trouble, we tell ourselves. I am in for it now. I am not good enough. I am going to be found out. I am an imposter. I am too lazy. I am too short. I am not good looking enough. I am not clever enough. I am a failure. I am no good. I am afraid. I am. 

I am.

This ‘I am’ envelopes itself around us, encasing us within it. We begin to associate with it. It becomes a part of us. Whatever the challenge is, whatever the obstacle, because this fear has become an integral part of our identity in whatever guise it has chosen, we feel that we are incapable of overcoming it. We become passive. Disempowered. Hopeless. Worthless. 

We become our fear.

I’m not the kind of person who can get up early in the morning. I’m not the kind of person who does that. I’m not the kind of person who achieves things like that. I’m not brave enough. I’m not courageous enough. I’m not enough. I am nothing.

I’m just small and afraid and I will remain here in my rut where nothing can hurt me.

I am. Its tendrils wrap themselves around us so tightly and completely that we are no longer able to see where we end, and our fear begins. But despite this, despite this amalgamation of our identity with our insecurity, we are not our fear. Despite the Stockholm Syndrome that we have developed, that encourages us to find comfort in that fearfulness, we are not our fear.

We are not our fear.

Our fear is something that hangs on us, like an impenetrable suit of armour. When we look in the mirror it’s our fear that we see. It calcifies upon our true selves like a crust, a shell of disconnect between us and the world with all its dangers. But also all of its opportunities and wonders. At first the purpose of this shell was to protect us, but now it suffocates us. This thick mask has become heavy, rigid and overwhelming. Carrying it is tiring, but it’s all we know. And familiar is good, we tell ourselves. The unknown, out there with all the risk it holds, is terrifying. If we face it, just like Eurydice we might be dragged down into the underworld and be lost forever.

Instead we allow our fear to engulf us and merge with us. It becomes our friend. It assimilates us. It becomes our safe place. Our reason for not doing, trying or becoming. Our alibi. Our perfect excuse. Our abusive lover. It becomes our reason to judge others. To criticise anyone reaching for their potential. We become trolls, hiding under our bridge, waiting to terrorise any billy goats gruff who may come wandering past, or anyone else trying to go somewhere we are terrified to journey to ourselves.

Our fear becomes a wall to hide behind. Shielding us from the harshness of life. And also its rewards.

We can continue to hide behind this shield of misery if we so wish. We can stay where it’s safe and mediocre. Where it never rains, and where it also never shines. Or we can choose to take a chance and find out who we are. But this means we must rid ourselves of our attachment to fear. We must be brave enough to step away from our mask and show the world who is hiding behind the mask. We must face the idea that when the mask is destroyed we might be destroyed along with it.

Like a snake, we must shed this skin in order that we might grow to realise our true, amazing selves, and leave behind the shell of fear, a translucent version of us. But not us.

We must emancipate ourselves from fear. And to do that we must sacrifice ourselves to the battle with our dragon. We must commit to the fight.

To do this it is vital that we are prepared to acknowledge ourselves. Our imperfections, flaws and all. We must see all those things about ourselves that we are ashamed of, in order that we also see those things about ourselves that we are proud of. Only then can we fight our dragon and begin our transformation. Because, as James Baldwin so wisely states: ”not everything that is faced can be changed, but nothing can be changed until it is faced.”

So face yourself. Find out where you end, and fear begins. Investigate where you go wrong, and where you go right. Find your fear. And then begin the work of casting it aside. Cutting it free. Severing the cord. Releasing it to the infinite. 

Finding our who you really are, and becoming that person.

This is ancient wisdom. But now, more than ever, it needs to be remembered. In an era where we are encouraged into tribalism, into cliques, asked to choose sides, divided by those who profit from our anger and other-ness, categorised by algorithms in order that our attention and our outrage can become currency, being ourselves can seem strange, different, awkward and even rebellious or wrong. But it must be nurtured.

And this requires amputating, excising, removing and discarding all that is not us. Fear. Baggage. Validation. Approval. ‘Likes’. Want. Lack. Desire. Anger. Hate. Hurt. The past. The future. It must all be cast aside.

How much are you willing to let go of in order to be your true self and live your full life? How much are you willing to leave behind, in order to align yourself with your true values and the existence that is intended for you? How much of what you perceive to be you are you willing to destroy in order that you might rise up and realise your full potential?

Because in order to change we must step away from the comfort of our fear and the reality we know – the us that we know – and look behind the curtain of our true selves. And that takes courage. The courage to risk it all. That is the dragon we must fight in order to reach our pot of gold. 

As Mooji so wisely states, we must “step into the fire of self-discovery. This fire will not burn you. It will burn everything you are not.”

As Brené Brown so wisely states; “when we make the choice to dare greatly, we sign up to get our asses kicked. We can choose courage, or we can choose comfort, but we can’t have both. Not at the same time.”

As Ani Pema Chodron so wisely states, “only to the extent that we expose ourselves over and over to annihilation can that which is indestructible in us be found.”

And as Frank Herbert so wisely states, in The Litany of Fear, in his epic novel, Dune:

“I must not fear.
Fear is the mind-killer.
Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration.
I will face my fear.
I will permit it to pass over me and through me.
And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path.
Where the fear has gone there will be nothing. Only I will remain.”

Only when we annihilate what is not us, the fear, the masks, the anxiety, the fitting in, the approval, is the real us revealed. The indestructible us. When we face fear, go through it, step into the fire of self discovery, “only I will remain.”

For some that means reaching rock bottom until all is lost and only their essential self remains. For others that means casting aside the desire for approval. For others it means walking their true path. And for others it means all of this. 

Dr Seuss, the wisest of them all, asks “why fit in when you were born to stand out?”

You were born to stand out. Not your fear. You. Not your excuses. You. Not any of the hundred reasons to hide your light. You.

So here it is. Permission, if you need it. It’s time to reveal yourself. To boldly escape from your chrysalis. Your true self. Strong, and brilliant. Beautiful and bright. The world needs your light. Now, more than ever.

Don’t be afraid. Don’t be your past. Don’t be everything that could go wrong. Don’t be anything that anyone else needs you to be. Find out who you are, and perhaps you’ll discover that the fear of the dragon is worse than the dragon itself.

So be strong. Be courageous. Be free and be pure. Be aware of yourself. Be noble. Be prepared to put in the work to be the best version of yourself. Be everything you want to be.

But more than anything else, just be.