I almost had to move the other day. To leave my beautiful home and beloved community.
It wasn't by choice ... there was what may as well have been a dragon trapped in my garage.
I was home alone, having been callously abandoned by my two sons and my boyfriend (my sons were at school, and my boyfriend was at work), and I went out to the garage to get a box I needed to finish my project.
I opened the door, took a step out, and that's when I saw the ferocious beast! He was huge, bright green and staring at me with evil in his eyes. (At least that's what I saw when looking at the 4-inch reptile which my sane mind now tells me was more afraid me than I was of it.)
It was a lizard ... And, I'm terrified of lizards. It's irrational I know, but here we are.
Upon seeing this may-as-well-be-a-dragon in my garage, I did what any rational person would do: I screamed, ran inside and slammed the door.
After catching my breath and giving myself a pep talk, I tried again.
Cautiously, I opened the door and peeked around the corner. This time, the dragon was prepared! Like an enemy beating a drum of war, he had repositioned himself into the metal tub under my water heater and was thumping his tail rapidly against the three-inch-high wall as warning to all who dared encroach upon his space.
Screaming and slamming the door was the only reasonable course of action.
After another break and pep talk, I made a new plan. I would open the door, reach my hand to the button on the wall and open the garage door, exposing my arch nemesis to the lure of the wild outdoors. Perhaps my reptilian enemy would take the bait and vacate my home. Or, maybe more of his friends would join him.
But it was do or die, and this was my last hope.
Sometime later, my then 13-year old son arrived home. Upon hearing of my plight, he rolled his eyes, went into the garage and ultimately returned telling me the coast was clear.
My ordeal was over! And I had emerged victorious!
Later, when recounting this story to my neighbor Wendy, she asked me what I would have done if my son had not arrived when he did.
“I don’t know, Wendy,” I said emphatically. “Move?!”
She laughed, and offered her support and services should I ever be stuck in that predicament again.
Reflecting on this now, I know how silly it all was – well to someone not petrified of lizards – and I also wonder what other “lizards” in my life I am making into dragons.
What situations or challenges am I approaching with a skewed lens? Where can I reframe my thinking and use a modified mindset to get the dragon back down to its lizard-like proportions?
The conflict with my business partner? That’s just business, and common ground will be identified eventually. Getting personally worked up is neither productive nor helpful.
The age-appropriate crisis my child is facing? We can face it together, and like eating an elephant, attack it one bite at a time.
Afterall, while I won’t pretend every problem is easy, every problem is solvable ... one way or another.
And so, as I remove my plate armor and put down my dragon-slaying sword in favor of a lizard-shooing gesture, I ask you: what dragons are you facing? And how can you transform them into lizards?
