Dragon
is the beast of chaos living deep within. A beast that is married to hope and the fear that it may not sleep forever. But when you pushed yourself too hard and wore yourself too thin, you, this power that kept reign over it for so long, look at its rearing head. The dragon is breaking free. How magnificent its emergence out of order. So sudden, without a warning. It is breaking through understanding, ripping it apart, and before you realize what is happening you lost knowing altogether. It is swallowing you alive, flooding your world with chaos, and for that, you pay a bitter price.
Facing the dragon is the purest form of powerlessness, of being a victim of all the doubts and fears that you hoarded over a lifetime. Of being vulnerable to every part of nature and life.
Facing the dragon is the experience of never-ending anxiety. It is the realization that death is beckoning, that it already has you in its merciless grip.
Facing the dragon is anxiety in its distilled form. It is the fear of being pursued. It is the fear of being not strong enough to master the challenge of life. It is the fear of not being adequate as a father, nor of being the man, husband, and partner you are supposed to be. It is love turned sick, the incessant need to better the ones that are most valuable, most connected to you but mixed with the feeling of utter failure.
Facing the dragon lets you question the value of life. It opens the door to this perverse thought, always hidden but ever present, this question: is the end not better than this? Why continue? Why suffer? Is death not better for everyone else and for yourself? You know it is wrong, your whole being screams against this very idea, but chaos opens the door nonetheless.
Facing the dragon means lying on the ground of your living room in the middle of the night not knowing how to sleep because he is raging through you. You can’t stand the idea of being in the same room as your family, this source of meaning, because every move, every fleeting sound is grabbing the beast’s attention and frees up a new world of pain. And you just want to sleep and forget, get unconscious for an eternity before day announces that the torment begins anew. So you flee into solitude staring at the ceiling but chaos isn’t done yet. It fills your mind, your world, with pain and suffering and so goes the night, this intimate partner.
Facing the dragon is something you have to do every moment from now on. The night is not your savior because chaos pursues you into your dreams. It follows you even into the depths of a dreamless night. It makes your world his.
Facing the dragon will tear your body apart. He corrupts it and lets it decay while you are watching. The world of dreams is spilling into physical reality.
Facing the dragon forces you to the ground, laying on your back, breathing heavily while your pregnant wife is standing next to you, crying in the face of chaos.
Facing the dragon, that beast that mercilessly consumes all your life, so that there is no space left even for your own child, this spark of light that is showing you the way out of this storm. You cannot take his crying anymore, it is ripping at the very fabric of your mind. You are taken by the need to run away, to be alone, alone from any impression, and just so to end up in the very arms of your tormentor. But you run away nonetheless. Leave this externalization of your soul behind. You fail and anxiety is your punishment.
But you come back because you have to. For him. This spark has to prevail. You face the dragon. You enarmor yourself with discipline, openness, and a never-ending storm of self-destruction. You destruct yourself, take yourself apart to find the dragon’s hearts.
You torment your body until it breaks so that chaos has no place to hide anymore. You stand up every morning before the sun awakens to push yourself through the cold. You embrace the dragon’s kiss that didn’t let you sleep. You take the anxiety and fear and run. You run until every fiber of your material being screams: no more! You run even though you start to break. You take the dragon’s life. Let him bleed.
You step into the realm he occupies. You travel into your mind, into the deepest abyss, and face the dragon. You don’t wait for him to emerge, you chase him down with wisdom you fiercely collect. You meticulously study yourself, your past, present, and future to find each heart so you may shine the light of reason and compassion upon it. It might even wither. But be cautious. The heart is powerful. It is the very source of chaos. If you are not careful it might corrupt your reason, this last bulwark of your mind.
You, this being that fights against its hidden self, against this dark part of the soul, grow over time and with every victory. You grow closer. You become the dragon. You realize that it is the truth you never spoke, the truth you neglected, and denied its existence. This negligence the dragon remembers and its fury grows with every moment. You lied. You consciously denied the truth and in its place, hell emerged.
Speak the truth otherwise the dragon, chaos, and hell will start to grow within.
Read on
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