There is a Dragon in every story.

He sleeps and he covets.
He wants.
He is good at wanting.
You see him there, in his brimstone lair.
He lies on piles of gold, though he cannot spend.
He captures maidens, though he cannot romance.
He can only want and count and want.
He is the patron saint of More.

When monsters do this, this hoarding and using, they are villains.
When people do this, are they heroes?

Do they look happy?

Some people think they are dragons.
They could feed every hungry belly and put a roof over every wayward head.
Instead they work to get more of what they already have.
They want and they count and they want.

Idols?
Cowards.

Joy is not allowed in the Dragon’s lair. No room.
Fear rules there.

The Dragon fears the purity of the maiden and the potentiality of the treasure.
So he craves and covets and collects.

And he sleeps.
His life is exhausting.
What parts of your life make you tired?

Heroes don’t take.
They give and are fed by the giving.
The hero’s path will sustain us if we only walk it.
What parts of your life feed you?

Come find me.
I will show you holy things.
I cannot tell you about them.
Words fail at the point where they become holy.
I can show you, though.

Look!

You have given friendship. Do you now have less to give?
You have given care. Will you run out?
You have given love. Is there now less of it?
You have given truth. Will you now have to deal in lies?

Holy things grow.
You grow.
You are the holiest thing.

You are a spring, a sunrise and a perfect day and a sunset in eternity.

Where will you take and show your sacred self?
How will you bless?
What will you give?

Find the secret wild places of your savage passionate heart.
That’s where I am waiting for you.

In the wilderness of your journey, there is a burning bush.
It may be hard to find, because lots of things are on fire along the way.
But this fire is different.
It burns but does not consume.

It is a beacon.
Let it blaze and cleanse and purify and illuminate.

When you find what burns but does not diminish, you’ll know you are on holy ground.
Go barefoot. Remove the barriers. Listen.

You cannot count holy things. That’s how you can tell.

Are you a dragon, or are you a hero?
Are you an accountant, or are you a warrior, a lover, a poet?
Are you the numbers, or are you the song, singing itself?

Come and find me.