Even a Sick Dragon...

When I was in Japan, I went to an artists' show in Nara.  A painter there, Sakaguchi-san, did these tremendous paintings of ogres (oni) and dragons.  The first year I went, she had one that had a thin, sickly looking dragon, a rather short, non-threatening oni, and a dead koi, the expensive ornamental carp that is prized for its fighting spirit and beauty.  The calligraphy around the three figures said, "Even a dead koi is still a koi.  Even a small oni is still an oni.  Even a sick dragon is still a dragon."  The colors were primary, a stark contrast with the bold black lettering.  It was gorgeous.

I wanted desperately to buy that painting, because it struck me so powerfully. I wanted it to remind me of something important.  I was then, and am frequently now, a sick dragon.  Migraines attack; my body betrays me with weakness; I have to deal with situations that make my heart and soul revolt. The painting reminded me that I am however, always and ever, even at my most deeply wounded and in my darkest day, still a dragon.

My Chinese zodiac sign is the dragon, the fire dragon to be specific, and I've always felt an affinity to the creature.  I think I'm probably a fairly typical dragon: full of both luck and arrogance, holding both creativity and a non-conformist nature, with a tendency to be tactless at times, having both temper and passion.   Sometimes, though, especially with everything that's been going on lately, I feel so horribly run-down.  At the end of long days full of disappointments, frustrations, and questions I cannot answer, that perhaps have NO answer, I find myself unable to do more than just sit and stare at my desktop, idly tracing my fingertips over the little doodads I keep there.

One of my favorites is this little green pottery dragon.  I call him Phinneas.  He sits just behind my mousepad.  He's one of Sam Clark's little dragons and one of the only pieces of my pottery collection I have at school.  When I'm stretched past the point of snap-back, when I'm waiting for the Maxalt to catch the pain, when I've  once again received an email that discomfits me, I look down and see this diminutive creature and his clever grin and I feel better.  I'm reminded of who I am at my core even though I'm not currently at my best.  I'm reminded to pick myself up, AGAIN, dust off my battered scales and rekindle my inner fires for another round.  

Even a sick dragon is still a dragon.  That's got to be worth something.