Dragon Slaying and Fox Trapping for My Goddesses

This morning finds my mind racing….again. It’s mulling over options.

In my head I have pretty much just slain a dragon with my bare mama hands…

…Ripped out a jugular vein and watched the blood spill on the cement floor.

…Consumed with ferocious atrocity the would-be predator threatening to steal the fire and thunder that feeds the Divine Feminine Spirit in my daughters.

I have played out a thousand scenarios. Some begin politely enough offering the perceived adversary a chance to help me understand these disturbing things I am hearing. Others rush fairly quickly straight to the feeding frenzy of the media.

Sidenote: This little town is no stranger to media scrutiny. My family endured that insanity. For better or worse, that media scrutiny and trial in the court of public opinion did more to invoke social change on this country than eons of legal wrangling and writing letters to elected officials could have done. It was not without casualties, and it was not a lesson wasted on me.

I have come to believe my adversary has two faces. One is a polite accommodating gentleman that seeks to be the savior of a small town. A reprieve from the agony of defeat that has plagued a portion of our lives for decades. A friendly smiling idealistic face with praise and accolades for the hardworking among us, both male and female.

Quite charming from what I can tell.

The second face of which I  have only seen glimpses in a somewhat distorted reflection is the one that disturbs me.

Intensely.

It reflects a self-serving, win-at-all-costs, male chauvinist, arrogant, sly fox who charmed his way into a role of power that has the potential to improve the lives of my daughters or destroy the things they have worked so hard to develop. The reflected images suggest destruction is encroaching like a wildfire. This is the dragon that has stolen peace and tranquility from my dreams.

Unfortunately I have no way to know which face is the true face. If I approach the beast, I will see the first face, for that is the only face he willingly shows where potential critics are concerned. I feel certain that all my fears will either be addressed with the smoothness only befitting an experienced fox, or will be dismissed as the warped reflections of a disgruntled few who are being moved out to make room for the new and improved.

I’m all for new and improved…

…So long as the  new and improved improves the lives and opportunities of my amazing women.

...and so long as the messages he sends to my daughters encourage their feminine strength and power.

…and so long as those who are moved out are treated with dignity and respect.

Yet I can’t help but wonder which face is true. The fox must be outfoxed into showing his true colors—the dragon’s face—if in fact it exists.

And that, my dear friends, requires a thoughtfully laid, thoroughly detailed, wise woman plan.

True (dragon) colors tend to show up when things get a little uncomfortable and tight-quartered for the fox.

Pardon me while I delicately corner a fox in the hen house.