Dragons and the Shadow Self
“In our era, too many dragons have been slain, and we now need the power of the Great Mother to heal ourselves and our world. The anima still needs to be set free, but the dragon needs to be accepted, not killed.” ~Llewellyn Vaughan-Lee
There’s something wonderful and terrifying in imagining a dragon—infused with power, determination, and boldness. But there can also be greed, anger, and reclusivity. The last I can understand, for as dragons have been demonized and hunted to the edges of civilization, they would likely choose to be alone out of self-preservation. When you’ve been wounded too many times, why trust anyone?
Too often, the hero has been portrayed as the one willing to slay the dragon. This is a mythological mistruth—one born of a stark dualism of good and evil, where the serpent, wyrm, or dragon has been pinned as the raw power of nature and pre-Christian faith ways. This battle is part of the problem. If we continue to tell these kinds of stories, no one heals.
Instead, Carl Jung proposed a new way to think about the relationship between the hero and the dragon on the journey to individuation. At first, his psychological writings followed the trope of hero-kills-dragon, but with maturity came new insights, and he equated the dragon with the shadow self. We might think of this as the “other,” as a force we would be better off slaying and being rid of. But when we come face-to-face with the dragon, the truth is that we are the dragon too. Killing the other wounds ourselves and leaves us unable to be whole.
The path of the storyteller and artist can be a path of the healer, finding the broken pieces and knitting them back together in a way we can understand, allowing us to grow with new insight and wisdom. Too long, we have pushed the dragon away, marginalized and persecuted to the far fringes of what is acceptable. But the truth is life is messy, with deep impulses and drives and times of seeking recluse in the dark with the treasure that is too precious to share in an unsafe, cruel world.
And the dragons are used to us fighting them. It takes a unique, vulnerable hero to approach without fear—not to conquer but to befriend. A dead dragon is nothing but a corpse. A live dragon can fly. Who does not dream of flying?
While anima does have its deep impulses, the greatest thread that runs through sentient existence is a desire to be seen, heard, and loved. We yearn to be safe with those we can trust. Such nurturing is not easy to find in this world.
It is also not easy to offer this to ourselves—to the unhappy, messy, vulnerable parts of who we are. No wonder we push the shadow self away, hoping that somehow ignoring it will make its existence non-present or at least silent. But that is not the case. The shadow grows worse when repressed, angry and hungry and wanting release from its cage. It acts out, often wounding the people we love.
Hello dragon, my old friend. I’ve come to talk with you again. What if we can be friends instead of enemies? What if we can forge a new story together, even if it’s messy and dangerous and full of unknowns? Would you like to fly again, free from the arrows and spears of fear and loathing?
What would happen to the stories we tell if we try?
Dragon themed projects Laura has designed that you can make with a kit, using wool from her farm’s sheep!
Bayeux Stitch Dragons: Wool Embroidery
Knotwork Dragon: Painting with Wool (Needle Felting)
Dragon’s Treasure: Tapestry Weaving
