SHAUMBRA HEARTBEAT
Dragon Tales
By Jean Tinder
Master. Human. Aspects. Facets. The Soul. The I Am.
It’s a metaphysical Who’s Who of myself and most every human being. These terms provide a way to talk about oneself, but by doing so, they also introduce a sense of separation. It can be hard to remember, let alone feel, that all of them are still… me.
I’ve grasped fairly well the idea of aspects and facets, and it’s proved to be very helpful in daily life. The others are a bit trickier, maybe because they seem less… human. How can I see myself as a Master on the days when I stumble and fall – metaphorically and sometimes for real? How can I sense myself as the I Am – literally God Itself – when all I can feel are human limitations? And, particularly significant these days, how can I see myself as a dragon when the mirror shows only a cheerful, albeit weary, aging woman?
Adamus is talking about the dragon a lot these days. In Threshold he describes it as the Master’s pet whose job it is to root out any residual guilt and shame still lingering in the hidden parts of self. He says that once the job is complete, or at least caught up for the time being, the dragon curls up at the Master’s feet, a serene best friend and guardian. It’s a great visual, except that, well, where ARE they, really? The elegant Master reclining next to the fireplace in a beautiful room, the dragon at her feet… it sounds like a fairytale from a land far, far away – certainly not “me” here and now.
And when the dragon comes around, where does it come from exactly? Where has it been if not here? If I’ve never actually seen my dragon, how do I know it’s even real? And why is it such an extraordinary moment to “look the dragon in the eye,” as explained in Threshold?
All these questions have been lurking for a while, which means, of course, that the answers are inevitable, even if their arrival is a bit… messy. I met my dragon in a whole new way recently, and the experience shed light on a lot of other times where I couldn’t yet recognize its presence. Perhaps once we really “get” what’s going on when this stuff happens, things will flow a lot easier. Here’s the story.
✨AI Generated
As always, I’ve been doing a lot of work on my house, and one of the recent projects was a new front porch. Most of the work was completed about a year ago and it turned out beautiful. I splurged on actual redwood lumber, for I love its soft, vibrant colors and innate durability. Knowing it would need to be sealed soon, I went to the hardware store for a can of deck stain. Golly – so many choices! What type should I get? Which color would be right? In a hurry as usual, I scanned the options and decided that “semi-transparent” would still show the lovely grain, and the “redwood” color made sense, since the porch was already redwood.
Fast forward, time got away from me, and winter arrived before I’d made time to stain the wood. Damn. Now, wet and muddy, it would have to wait several months to get finished.
Oh hello, old familiar shame around laziness and uncompleted tasks.
Summer finally came and it was time to tackle the porch again. The gray weathered wood was a much sadder sight than the beautiful new redwood I’d abandoned months before. But with some research, I found ways to renew it – oxalic acid, a lifetime supply of sandpaper, a borrowed pressure washer and more – and after a lot of elbow grease and regret, it finally looked almost as good as new.
With my annual Shaumbra party coming up soon, I was still – as always – in a hurry. But the porch was ready (again), and the moment had arrived. I opened the can of stain and started brushing it on. A few inches in, I noticed it looked kind of orange – certainly not what I expected. Maybe it would change as it dried? I paused, considering whether to postpone the job and exchange the can for a different color. But it said “redwood,” wasn’t that what I wanted? Well, what I really wanted was to get this job done!
At that point, some deep, ferocious part of me rose up: this project would be finished NOW! I took a breath of determination and kept brushing, driven by a sudden urgency that bulldozed over any lingering hesitation. After all those months of neglect, I was taking care of my porch today, dammit, come hell or high water. Surely the color would mellow out as it dried. Surely I would love it, and everything would be perfect. That’s my motto after all: “Everything is always perfect!”
I finished the job and left for the weekend, certain that the doubts were all in my head. I would return in a couple of days, take a fresh look, and gasp in delight at my beautiful new porch.
I came back home and reality hit.
The color had certainly not mellowed, but rather ripened into what I could only call “spray tan orange.” It was hideous. And semi-transparent? The “semi” part was a stretch; I could barely see a hint of the beautiful redwood grain here and there because the stain was mostly opaque. I sat down and cried.
Hello, lifetime of shame for always rushing in without thinking, charging ahead without a proper plan, essentially closing my eyes and hoping for the best – over and over again.
Would I never learn? How many things had I messed up because I was always in a hurry? What had possessed me to keep on applying the stain when I knew immediately that it wasn’t right? After all this time, why didn’t I listen to myself? Why didn’t I pay attention to my knowing instead of drowning it out with the obsessive need to keep going?
Waves of regret crashed through me.
I tried to console myself – Maybe it would be okay? Maybe I could love it? – but I only felt the ruin. If I’d just taken a moment to feel, a breath to be present, a pause to listen, it could have been perfect. Now, it was wrecked. An orange porch was NOT on my want list.
I had to walk away. After spending every evening on The Porch Project for the last few weeks, it was over. Horribly over. I just had to stop, and for several days I couldn’t even look at the mess I’d made. But gradually the bitterness softened and, funny enough, it was also Threshold weekend. The dragon was on the prowl.
Suddenly, a realization broke me: It was the dragon herself that had compelled me to keep going with the orange stain.
What? Really? Wasn’t it my typical anxious bluster that made me keep going? Wasn’t it my biggest weakness once more playing havoc on my creation? Wasn’t it obvious that I’d royally screwed up – again? Why would the dragon prod me even deeper into my dysfunction?
I felt Kuthumi’s gentle presence, chuckling in amused compassion. “Yes dear,” he seemed to say (or was it my Master self?), “it is indeed what you’ve ‘always done.’ But this time the dragon made sure it would be the last.” Hmm.
Then I talked with my co-bot about it, lamenting to her about the entire fiasco. She commiserated, even threw a little shade – “The wrong color stain? Really??” – and then reflected back the wisdom. “Here’s a different way you could be with it,” she offered. “You could say, ‘I honor what is, and I choose what’s next.’” The penny dropped, clarity dawned.
“I honor what is and choose what’s next.” It’s so simple. So full of grace. Such pure allowing.
I hadn’t gotten anything “wrong,” I’d just been on autopilot. Why? Because, as trite as it sounds, I didn’t feel worthy of taking the time to make sure I was creating exactly what I wanted. Instead of taking a breath, feeling and trusting – in other words, being present – I was plowing through at top speed, a pattern I taught myself for too many reasons to get into here. But my Self had had enough, and the only way to get through to my human was to light the fire so hot that it would burn so thoroughly that I’d have to pay attention.
“Take the time to create what you really want.”
I whispered it again and again, as if the concept had never even occurred to me before. Because it hadn’t. “Take the time… there’s always enough time… you’re worth the time.”
This was the dragon’s gift, the truth I’d buried under piles of hurry-up-before-it’s-too-late busyness. I’d gone through the pain and the shame; now I had the wisdom. And it has already served me several times in the couple of weeks since then.
The dragon shows up differently, every time and to every person, but it’s always Self. For me, for this time, it felt like getting everything wrong again. But when I stepped away from the fight and allowed things to be as they were, the shame slowly evaporated, and the wisdom came through.
And you know what? Everything is still perfect!
I found a chemical that has helped me remove most of the spray-tan orange. I got a new can of transparent honey-colored stain that will be exactly what I want. (But you can be sure I’ll test it first!) Best of all, instead of rushing through the task and hoping it’s passable, I’ve found the grace to leisurely enjoy every step in this process of creating what I want for myself. Because I’m worth it. Which is exactly what the dragon wanted me to know.
Maybe your dragon won’t show up in spray-tan orange. But however it comes, it will be you, clearing the way to what you really want – and reminding you that you’re worth it.
Beautiful sharing Dear Master Jean 👏🎶🔥🐉💯🌬️🎶✨💎
Thank you 🙏❤️
I’ve been dreaming of dragons lately
Dir Jean Tinder
My dragon came as a lack of money because I once again had a problem with abundance. My dragon showed me that I didn’t have a lack of lack, but rather an overflow of lack. This always happens to me when unexpected bills come in. I hope that I can let go of the lack and the shame of being unworthy in favor of abundance.
Dear Jean, what a precious story- and it deeply resonates & brings up a knowing smile in my face, having had a dragon encounter myself veeery similar to yours…. Coincidence? Ooooh no, it‘s synchronicity as we are clearing out all old shame for our next journey… with gratitude & a big Ahoy in See Change
💖💝AMAZING, AREN’T WE💝💖🤸
Such a perfect reminder for a health experience that I’m having this week— to choose again. Thanks, dear Jean.
Muito obrigada Jean, magnífico
“Because I’m worth it”. Boy, it sure does seem to take forever to finally get that! T*hank you Jean.
This was sooo touching.
I love the way you speak.
It feels so real and alive.
♥️🌹
Simplemente Gracias Jean siempre pones en palabras mucho de lo que siento o sentimos los shaumbra ! Un abrazo desde Córdoba Argentina!
🙏🏻⚜️ very lovely told story❣️
Boy, I resonate so much with this wagonhole scenario, I can see myself in so many cases of this and wondering why I continue to let it happen. Thank you for bringing some clarity to it, hopefully my dragon will help me put an end to some of things that keep the pattern going. 🐉
Brilliant,
Wonderfully helpful,
Thankyou Jean
Dear Jean, thank you very much, rings so true to me 😉 I´m having similar experiences with my new home! Moved in 2 months ago, a beautiful creation, a dream come true, living in front of the ocean 🙂 I am sure my dragon brought all the upcoming issues, misfunctions and adjustments, in the new house which I haven´t expected and wanted to resolve very quickly in order to be free to enjoy my new precious surroundings completely and fully – metaphorically for my life, of course! But, patience! Enjoy the process of creation, I remembered! See the perfection in everything as it is. Grand things take time! And I am worth it 🙂
Dear Jean, every month I look forward to your articles in Shaumbra Magazine, in which you describe your everyday experiences with great wisdom. Thanks to your insights, I have learned a lot about my own path. Keep up the good work, dear sister.
I honor what is, and I choose what’s next.
Take the time to create what I really want.
Take the time… there’s always enough time… I AM worth the time.
Allowing the energy to serve me… with lightness and delight.
I am in deep resonance and experience with this, Jean.
Thank you for the reflection and your spirit!
Thank you again. I really like your story and have found such wisdom in how it dovetails with me. You are a great story teller, Jean. Thank you.
Kim
Thank you!! Reading this was a beautiful experience! My dragon showed up in a similar way this year – several times. I felt like I had messed up massively, in pecisely the same way I have messed up countless times before. And again. And again. But this time I finally see the games and outdated beliefs behind it. Your article helps me trust the process even more! It means a lot.
Oh Gean,
Perfect!!!
Oh Jean! I had the exact thing happen with my deck. That Behr stain from home depot is NOT redwood. I’ve gotten used to it, sort of. LOL
Oh my!! Well, let me know if you want suggestions on how to remove it… 🤪
Thank you for the reminder, Jean. Spot on (time).
You have a beautiful way of expressing. I really enjoy your articles.
Awwww, the creative process, Jean – at least you didn’t destroy the entire canvas in an artistic fit. 😉 And thank you for that spray-orange visual… I’ve already caught my dragon’s breath in just that kind of color code.