The Lull is Really Dragons

Dragonhood

I've been in a weird place. I'm calling it 

a lull, 

because I'm trying to figure out where I'm at....  I know that where I've been is moving further into the background and where I'm going is coming into focus along the horizon. I'm here.  For now.  And I keep reminding myself to be here.  To be now.  To be awake and alive, here and now.

I took a picture of this quote some time ago. I was in a waiting room, reading this book of quotes and was struck by the tension between reptile and bird. I was intrigued by the idea of dragonhood. Honestly, I can't remember who wrote this, but the quote seems particularly relevant to me this morning.  "Mired in the mud of our animal nature and the muck of our cultural prejudices" struck me. I'm mired. Feeling the heaviness of kapha this morning, the reptile in me is alive and awake. It's like she was awakened from a deep sleep and decided to stretch her legs upon my heart. 

At the same time, I can feel the agitation and restless air of vata taking me on a crazy ride upon her wings.  I can feel her dragging me through the air whether I'm ready for it or not.

I think this creature alive in me today is demanding that "come to terms with my dragonhood."

I imagine my dragon as fierce and angry, a force to be reckoned with. She has risen from the earth's center, unashamed of the rage and havoc. It's time to see that part of myself as alive and awake.  My dragon is not afraid to let the steam out of her nose and dig her claws into the earth as she prepares to fly high above the shit and muck that becomes so entrenched in my heart. She has horns on her head, her spine and on the tips of her wings.  She is not to be fucked with.  She is red with anger... and love...and hope. 

 

But wait, my dragon is fierce and angry, but she is also full of electricity. She was born out of the energy of a lightening storm and is not afraid to take up space and open it up with her electric touch.  She is ready to wake the soporific trance that fills my lungs and blood. She is clear, translucent, and fully alive. She is purple with depth... and power...and creativity.  And, again, not to be fucked with.

Both of these dragons are mine... me.  They encompass something in my waking and known self that cannot find a way out.  All to often, they lay dormant and unknown. I neglect them.  

Try to pretend they aren't me.  

But they are. 

And it seems that this lull is not at all a lull.  

It is a fissured moment through which my dragons escape.  It's the space through which they seek attention. They don't want to be calmed or soothed.  They want to spread their wings and fly.... Red dragon wants to fly from the earth into the highest clouds.  Purple dragon wants to fly from her lightning bolt into the center of the earth.  Both want to disrupt my plans. They want to remind me that I am not always (ever?) in control of the world around me.  Their wings are moving things around and it's uncomfortable, stimulating, scary, and thrilling.  I'm clinging to their wings, trying to hold on to the thrill and let go of the fear.  

Now if only I can get to know my dragonhood off the paper and the yoga mat and allow them to soar in the rest of my life.