To Kill A Dragon You Need A Sword
An action based approach to solving personal problems
This week is a re-release of an article I wrote pre newsletter. I did write something for this week but for transparency's sake, I will say it still needs some further thought before sharing. In lieu of that here is an article I wrote about a year ago inspired by one of Jordan Peterson’s lectures.
To Kill A Dragon You Need a Sword
Most of us know the story of St. George who slew the dragon, or even if we don’t know the story, we know what St. George did. We know that he had a sword and that he did kill a dragon, which is the gist of the story. Whether it be legend, myth or fact, St. George is known for killing a dragon. When I was a kid I always thought of St. George as the cool saint because, well, he had a sword, and that was a lot better than some of the flowers or fish that some of the other saints were pictured with. A shallow devotion, I know, but when All Saints' Day rolled around and we dressed up as the different saints, I wanted to show up with a sword and not with a flower or a fish. Not the deepest spirituality, but I was certainly not alone in this interest amongst my friends and brothers, and it seems that this desire to be armed is a simple expression of a much deeper truth which plays out in all of our earthly lives.
The theme of St. George and the concept of a dragon has popped up a few times in my life and it is only recently that I have reflected on the importance of this story and its relevance to my own life. My parents were married on St. George's Day and as a result I have always been aware of this feast day each spring at some level, if only in marking it as the same day as my parents' anniversary. To my knowledge they did not pick this day because of this memorial but I find it both meaningful and humorous that they entered into marriage the same day that we commemorate the feast of the dragon slayer. I’m not married, but I don’t have to be to say that entering into marriage is facing a dragon of some kind with the full commitment to slay it day after day. I don’t mean the slaying of your spouse, though marriage can sometimes look like that, but of course the dragon of selfishness and pride which continually comes against the blade of true marital charity. In any case, I have been familiar with the story and commemoration of St. George throughout my childhood and adolescence, yet it has not been been until my adulthood that the importance of this man and his actions has really become clear to me.
It was Jordan Peterson who really drove home the clarity and relevance of this topic (as he does with many topics) in one of his podcast episodes titled "Slaying the Dragon Within". I can’t recommend this talk enough, and if anyone ends up reading this article your time is better spent listening to him than to me, but in any case, it was this talk that tied things together for me. The 'meat' of the talk consists of a discussion around the relevance of a kids' book called, There is No Such Thing as Dragons, a humorous yet cautionary tale about the consequences of denying the existence of real life “dragons” (debt, addiction, poverty whatever it may be). But getting back to the title of this article, I don’t want to reiterate so much the fact that dragons exist, because I know they do, and have encountered them in my own life, as have you, I am sure. The discussion at hand is not one of whether or not dragons exist but rather how to slay these dragons.
Your dragon (or dragons) can be any number of things, and with a bit of brutal honesty you can fill in the blank with: poverty, unemployment, depression, anxiety, heartbreak, cancer, anorexia, laziness, loss of a loved one, divorce… The list goes on. These are real dragons and you need a sword to kill them.
I studied literature in university and though I still cannot spell or type I did learn to look at stories and then to apply them back to real life, back to my own life, and to see if they are relevant, to see if they mean something, to see if they are playing out at some level, to see if they are a real story. I used to love getting lost in the plot of an exciting novel but now I find myself getting lost enough in the story of real life. Either way I am fascinated by the intersection of these stories with our real life and have found consolation, hope and insight through this lens of interpretation. At the crux of it, though, what is the good of a story if you have a real dragon at your door? How do you wake up and face that terrible problem when, in the book, a wizard happened to show up and fix everything, or the character just flat out died? This is where we must lift our head from the pages and start looking for our sword, not a sword of methodical thinking or metaphysical significance or existential interpretation, but a sword of practicality, of concrete action, a sword that is sharp, that can cut, a sword that can kill.
I once heard a talk where someone observed how people love to say of an acquaintance, friend or family member who is in trouble, “he or she needs help” as if “help” were something that you just go pick up from the corner store but the person is too dumb to go do it. “Help” can be thrown around as some solution or action that is often undefined and usually shrouded in mystery and a bunch of uncomfortable unknowns. Sure they need help. We all need help, and it is always a starting point, and you should never hesitate to ask for help. But what I am getting at is something more specific than this vague “help” which is often alluded to, something that is real and actionable; are we talking about getting the carpet cleaned in here or checking into rehab? We must specify. Yes we need help, but if we leave it at that then we have not named, perhaps not even acknowledged, the reality and nature of our personal dragons; and so we do not fight them, and we do not kill them, and they continue to be shrouded in mystery while tormenting and devouring us. No, we need to be far more specific than a general discussion of help. To kill a dragon you need a specific kind of help, you need a specific tool, you need a sword, and it has to be sharp and tangible. Talking about it? Sure. Lamenting about it? OK. Praying about it? Of course! Acceptance, meditation, prayer, counsel and things of this nature are all types of swords, and often the right one for the job; the point is, that dragon is real and he is at your door. And when the rubber hits the road you need tires with tread to get some traction (pardon the mixed metaphors). You need a blade that can cut to get the job done, and it's not going to be very pretty or comfortable. I don’t want this to be a lecture, so I’ll ease off the preaching, but the point is, if you really want to kill this thing you need to find this sword, arm yourself and start fighting.
But what is this sword? Where do I find it? I don’t know how to fight! All legitimate points and I think it starts with naming your dragon. Once you name your dragon you can then pick the right weapon with which to kill it, and you do need to kill it, and there is a cost for not doing so.
So what is your weapon? Swords come in all shapes and sizes and we can forget how easy it is to acknowledge this without actually picking one out and putting it to the test. I don’t know what type of dragon you have encountered, but it doesn’t matter so long as your sword comes to a sharp point and has a fine edge that will more easily deal the mortal blows. A sharp sword is definitive, it comes to a fine point along the blade and this leading edge severs almost anything in its path, when properly wielded. So pick out a sharp sword, pick out a definitive course of action and go to work. So what is your sword going to be? Journaling, counselling, a ten-minute walk each day, getting up earlier, getting back to church, leaving church, meditating, drinking less, painting one picture each week, telling someone how you feel, selling one possession every day to pay off debt, reaching out to five clients every day to grow your business, confessing that sin, calling that friend, quitting that job, starting that relationship, applying for that program, or setting a deadline for yourself and telling someone about it: pick a weapon and use it. You will know it works when things get messy, for you can’t kill a dragon without spilling a lot of blood.
Yes dragons are real, but swords are real too, and though we do not live in a world where it is acceptable to walk around with a physical sword beyond the childhood years. (Side note: it used to be cool how the Knights of Columbus did this and it was pretty inspiring to me, but it seems they got rid of this ceremony for some more mature reasons.) We must realize that another type of sword must take its place as life progresses, and if this does not occur than it is the unarmed adult or adolescent who is the spectacle, the fool and the victim, and not the wooden sword-swinging child who fights imaginary dragons, for at least he is practicing and preparing, whereas the latter is simply being helplessly devoured.
The fact of the matter is that these childhood villains and enemies come to life only too soon and often much faster than we expect or would ever want, and yet as the dragon starts to manifest on its own, our weapons often do the opposite. As the dragon takes shape and we begin to experience the real and painful burning of his fiery breath, we realize that the swords of our childhoods must do the same: evolve, become real, and be sharpened. If this does not happen and we merely have thrown down the sword of our childhood, not realizing that it must not be abandoned but rather developed, then we walk forward naïve and unarmed towards an enemy far more real and dreadful than we would want to concede.
It seems as though the very wood that forms the sword of the childhood knight is consumed by the fire of the ever-growing dragon, and this seemingly useless weapon is cast aside in the name of maturity and progress, and replaced not with a new, better, more real, more deadly sword, but rather with the more “mature” approach of pretending the dragon no longer needs to be killed, or worse, that it is no more real or relevant than playing with a toy sword and pretending it meant something. We are quick to outgrow the weapons of our imagination but less quick to pick up the new ones and continue the battle. We know deep inside that the dragon is real and that he has not given up the game; but a real sword is scary, it is sharp, it can really do damage, someone might get hurt, and it's not nice to kill things. That might all be true but it doesn’t change the situation, even if you pretend it does. Dragons don’t wait around for you to realize this, they do not slow the attack or stop because it's not “nice”.
You don’t have to believe that St. George killed a real live dragon (I do) but this doesn’t change the importance of this story and the relevance that it bears to our lives. Maybe it is just a myth, or a legend –this really is of no importance– for as Chesterton aptly wrote, “[f]airy tales do not tell children the dragons exist. Children already know that dragons exist. Fairy tales tell children the dragons can be killed.”
You might have a terrible dragon breathing down your neck; this life contains many of these beasts often much darker and fiercer than we ever imagined as children, but they can be killed, be sure of that, and there are many swords with which to do battle, often more readily available than you may think or know. But it is up to you to find that sword, pick it up, and kill the dragon.
The fight is not pretty, we might even lose a limb, we might get burned badly or with especially large dragons we might even die, but in the words of King Théoden at Helms Deep, “[w]e will meet them in battle nonetheless.” It is in the moment when you once again pick up your sword and run not away from the enemy but towards it, that you may realize that those imaginary battles of your childhood were not so ridiculous after all, and in fact they were more real and relevant than much anything else in life. In this moment you enter into those stories and legends that you previously discarded and you realize you have a chance to become that hero or heroine; you realize that you have a chance to transcend the present misery of the dragon's attack to set free the village, your family, and your future. No, it may not be a pleasant thing, in fact a good bit of it will probably be most unpleasant. And no, in this vale of tears all stories do not have a happy ending, at least in this life, and many of us have not far to look nor to feel before saying, “yes, but what about him or her? They fought to the death, their own death, or they did their best and the dragon still got them.” Yes, this is an unsettling truth and in this life it is more than possible that we end up bruised and bloodied, exhausted and discouraged pleading with an existential spirit or fate or God about our terrible plight; like King Alfred the Great who defended England from the Danes and pleaded with Mary for some consolation saying,
"When our last bow is broken, Queen, And our last javelin cast, Under some sad green evening sky, Holding a ruined cross on high, Under warm westland grass to lie, Shall we come home at last?" (Chesterton again, The Ballad Of the White Horse)
Like King Alfred we can also find ourselves in this position, pondering and confused, defeated and discouraged, looking to higher powers, to deeper meaning, looking for a truer home. And there is nothing wrong with this; in fact it is even good sometimes, for in the words of Gandalf, "I will not say do not weep, for not all tears are evil". But it may not be time for this just yet, not just yet; there may be a battle to be fought still and in the words of Aragorn (apologies for all the Tolkien quotes, but he did know a thing or two about dragons), “There will come a day…for all that…but it is not this day, this day we fight!”. You have not far to look for your dragon and for that matter your sword. Do you need to follow a strict schedule? Do you need to lose forty pounds? Do you need to make your bed or study for your test, or quit your job, or get a job, or reconnect with your kids or parents? Only you can face your dragon and only you can pick up your sword, so what is your Dragon? And where is your sword?
Yours in the slaying,
Ben
