The Dragon in the Window

There is a Zen story about an old, eccentric Chinese monk who collected dragons. Throughout his life, he collected them: jade, wood, 2 inches high, 6 inches high. He loved his dragons. With great gusto, he would show them to visitors and tell the stories of his exquisite treasures.

Then, one day, a real dragon came and looked in the window of the monk’s hut. What do you think the old man did when he saw it? He fainted!

We all collect stories. Take money stories, for example. If only I had more money, I would be happy. I need to worry about money, because there will never be enough, especially in this economy. I’m a trust-fund baby. I should be able to have what I want, and since I don’t have the money, I will have to pull out my credit card.

I once worked with a man named Jake, whose story was that he was just plain incapable of earning a decent living. Because of this, he reasoned, he was a failure as a man. But at the same time, he was not about to become a typical entitled American who was way too concerned about getting more money. Jake was by no means a failure. Very bright and insightful, he was a natural teacher of gifted kids at an alternative school. He came to therapy when he decided he might as well become acquainted with his dragon. At first, our conversations were usually on the intellectual side. One day, though, he started talking about his father, and whap! That dragon’s tail caught him right across the head!

Jake’s father was a hard act to follow in the financial arena. A successful businessman, he made a great deal of money in a job he didn’t care for. Throughout his younger years, Jake heard over and over how you need to work hard and earn lots of money, and how unenjoyable that was going to be. Not that his father actually said these things; the message came across through his irritability, long hours at work, and subtle complaints about the business. At the same time, Jake felt his parents loved him, and he could tell that his father deeply valued seeing to it that his family would never go without.

When Jake was 13, his parents divorced. As Dad was the designated Bad Guy and had limited contact with the kids, Jake’s development of a career vision got sidetracked. He did well in college, but felt at loose ends when he graduated. Eventually, he got a teaching certificate, and had little trouble finding work at progressive, exciting schools that paid peanuts.

When Jake started treatment, he was embarrassed that he didn’t earn enough money to pay for his therapy on his own; he was using money he inherited from his father, who had died the previous year. He felt strange about this, as he resented what he described as his father’s preference for money over people. Coming to terms with his dragon helped him acknowledge and let go of feeling superior to his father, and to find real pride within himself about ways he was like his father. He also came to feel grateful that his father’s money allowed him to obtain additional education that led to a better-paying job. By the end of his therapy, he no longer felt funny about his father “paying” for his treatment. Instead, he felt his dad would be pleased to be able to provide his son with this gift of healing.