My favorite mythologist, Joseph Campbell, said near the end of every hero’s journey, we face a massive dragon guarding life’s greatest treasure—the truth of our soul.
It’s a lesson I learn over and over, but it seems the dragon is bigger this time, with much sharper teeth and claws and hotter fire-breathing capabilities than ever before.
But guess what? I have experience slaying dragons.
After getting my Masters degree at Harvard, I craved quiet, long walks in the woods, and the company of my favorite humans: children. So I took a one-year teaching position at a Waldorf preschool on an island at the edge of the world—AKA Martha’s Vineyard.
I knew it would be a good fit when my job interview took place on a blanket under an apple tree with watermelon and lemonade and two little kittens romping around me. Martha’s Vineyard was a shock for a city girl, coming from fifteen years living in Hollywood and one year in Cambridge. All of a sudden I found myself tromping through snow, bringing in my own firewood and having farmer mothers bring in wool from their sheep for the children to card and spin, and grain to grind into flour to bake our bread.
It was like being dropped into a rustic fairy tale.
The island was stunning, and my heart ached with the beauty of the light from the water, the moss-covered forests, twisting trees, and charming houses. It also ached with my old friend, loneliness, but I was eventually able to create a community for myself by teaching preschool to the children by day and teaching belly dance to the mothers by night, a perfect combo.
The first Waldorf celebration I was asked to create on the island happened to be slaying a dragon. Every September, Waldorf preschools celebrate “Michealmas”, a holiday about the battle between St. Micheal and a dragon, a metaphor for the battle between dark and light, good and evil. I happen to like dragons, but the mothers explained to me that for this ritual, the dragon represents our innermost fears, our inner negativity, and darkness. It’s a time of year when the sunlight grows less and less and humans must go inward and light their own inner lights to get through the dark winter.This I could understand. I love a metaphor—tell me a good story and I’m all in. Joseph Campbell said, “The metaphor is the mask of God through which eternity is to be experienced.” Well said!
My preschoolers and I spent the week before Michealmas making a dragon’s head out of a basket and the wool of a sheep from Lucy’s farm. All the Waldorf families met on a beautiful white powder sand cove on a sunny September afternoon. Some of the children dressed up as knights with pretend swords, and the rest lined up under a long green piece of silk, with me at the head of the dragon. There was storytelling and drumming as we all danced down the beach till the tiny knights pretended to slay us and I ran into the ocean in my skirt and threw the dragon head into the sea, while the children cheered.
It’s been 17 years since that day. I wish I could vanquish my current dragon so easily with a little drumming and dancing and cheering children.
My current dragon is divorce, and it feels like I am constantly battling the feelings of betrayal and primal fears that go along with divorce. It feels a lot like a vicious dragon blowing relentless white-hot fire on me and I don’t know how to stop it.
Last week I took many walks on Singing Beach to try to calm myself. The light hitting the rocks formed a lighthouse, and the lighthouse was always my symbol for my Dad. Wherever I went in the world, I would bring him home lighthouses or lighthouse keepers, because he was always a beacon of wisdom and kindness and integrity and a big warm hug for me.
It became clear to me that there only two things I want at the end of this divorce: my children and my soul. I realized that I no longer want any part of this divorce fight. There is so much darkness being hurled my way, not just from the divorce, but from my own self doubt.
Joseph Campbell says that in mythology, dragons represent the human ego, and the ego pins us down and holds us there, forming a cage around us. According to him, ego is what you believe, what you can do, what you think you love, the aim of your life… But what if you are capable of much greater things than you currently know?
In this divorce, I want to fight for justice, I want a fair outcome, I want to change an unfair system that values the “moneymaker” over the “soulmaker”. But in this fight, I am losing my own soul. I can no longer sleep. My brain spins in on itself, and I wake up drenched in sweat and fear and grief. It’s a losing battle because the longer it continues, the more the kid’s future is set on fire, disappearing in a puff of smoke to the lawyers, and for what?
My friend, Jen Tracy, posted something last week that said, “I hope when the time comes to bet on yourself, you double down.”
So while walking on the beach, I decided to bet on myself and double down. I have always had a magical life. I had an amazing career as a dancer. I performed with so many of my childhood idols and heroes—Paul McCartney, Placido Domingo, The Go-Go’s, the B-52’s, Berlin, Crissie Hynde…then I wanted to read more and learn more so I went to UCLA and Harvard. I wanted to live in New Orleans—I wanted to be a mother—and I did all of it! There is no reason to doubt myself—I have always figured things out in a magical way. So I made the decision that my ex could have everything— and I immediately felt at peace–I just want my children and my soul.
It’s terrifying—I’m 50 and have only worked as a performer, Mom, and writer, none of which have historically provided a good enough living to support my kids. But hold on, I forgot to say “Dragonslayer”, which I should probably add to my resume.
So, divorce aside, what if the biggest dragon is just myself, my own ego?
Here’s an example of how rude my ego can get: my car is making some very bad noises. First I get angry at my ex for not making sure his wife and kids are in a safe car. Then I feel helpless because I don’t have the money to fix it. Then I get mad at the mechanic because they can’t fit me in until Thursday, and I’m like dude—what if it breaks down? (He shrugged). And then I get mad at myself that I don’t have an income that would give us a safe car, and then I get terrified that no one will ever want to hire someone trying to find their first real job at the age of 50.
Sigh.
Damn dragons.
I told my son when we turned a corner on the way to school and it sounded like we were landing a plane, “I hope that whatever is wrong with this car is free because I have no way to pay for it.”And guess what? It was free!! Turns out the stupid car was just in 4-wheel drive.
So what if I just let go and trust myself that I will figure things out for me and my children as we go? How exactly do I do that?
I can tell myself to trust myself all day long, but I won’t believe myself.
Hmmmmm, this requires a warm chocolate chip cookie for optimal pondering.
So, I suppose the question is what to do with the dragon and the unrelenting fire, because if I just lay down and surrender I will surely be burnt to a crisp. So, do I fight it? Kill the dragon with a sword? Get out my firehose and douse the flames, then tame the damn thing? Make it my pet?
Oh I like that idea. I would shrink it into an adorable emerald green dragon and get it a soft pink fluffy circular bed and some treats to chew on, maybe put a bow behind its ear? But how do I tame it? Wild things don’t usually want to be tamed and they bite. (I love the way the “Mother of Dragons” tamed her dragons in Game of Thrones, and I certainly feel I’ve been in the middle of the fire for a long time, but I prefer to keep my clothes on at the point in my life.)
Campbell has an answer for conquering the dragons called the “soul’s high adventure”.
He say “Follow your bliss, and do not be afraid, and doors will open where there were only walls”.
Sounds easy, right? Follow your bliss? So I can eat an endless stream of warm chocolate chip cookies and doors will open? Because I can’t think of anything more blissful right now.
I recently read a wildly fabulous book called Red, Hot, and Holy, and the author, Sera Beak writes, “The important thing to remember about dragons is that they guard a buried treasure. When a dragon appears, it means gold is right behind it if we have the courage to stand our ground and meet it… But let’s be real clear: dragons can’t be perfumed away with positive affirmations or cleaned up with simple spiritual techniques. Dragons rip open our wounds and make a mess. On Purpose. Yes, dragons are a terrifying but necessary sacred set-up because they demand courageous action. They test us with unrelenting fire, to find out if we have metabolized all the profound realizations we’ve acquired thus far on our soul’s journey.” That sounds about right. I definitely feel ripped open at my core.
But I’m standing my ground and open to the gold.
Okay, what is my bliss besides cookies?
For me, following my bliss means spreading love and light and sparkles and laughter and creating—that’s when I feel my best.
Certain words conjure up bliss for me: rainbows, unicorns, glitter, children, roaring fires, rosy cheeks, warm mittens, whiskers on kittens… oh wait, I’m turning this into the song “My Favorite Things”.
Okay, my bliss… writing, dancing, painting, children, theater, rainbows, unicorns, fairy tales, storytelling, libraries, vintage fashion, tutus, feathers, New Orleans jazz, parades, flowers, creativity, good friends, sunshine and beach walks, and of course, warm chocolate chip cookies.
Campbell says, “The demon you swallow gives you its power and the greater life’s pain, the greater life’s reply.”
I hope so. And I hope this holds true for chocolate chip cookies too, because the cookie you swallow gives you its power and the greater the cookie, the greater the cookie’s reply, and the greater my behind. So maybe this is not as profound, but it is true, which is something in this age of lies. Truth is my favorite. And I just got back from making magic wands and owls with my Harry Potter class, and the way I feel making magic with kids makes me believe cheering children actually can tame or vanquish my dragons while I figure out my next steps.
