The Villain: Naming the Enemy

If you look at any successful business, appreciated charity, or helpful person, you’ll note that every problem, villain, or challenge can be an opportunity in disguise, if well-handled. Recently, I've heard Jordan Peterson discuss that around any meaningful treasure, there’s likely a dragon lurking. That dragon is the villain. Think of Bilbo Baggins facing Smaug, the fire-breathing beast guarding a mountain of gold. Let's reverse-engineer this—look for dragon and we might just find the gold! Don’t shy away from naming your villain or voluntarily facing it.

The clock’s ticking louder than your thoughts, your inbox is a battlefield of unread emails, and a nagging whisper of doubt tells you you’re not enough. Ever feel like the day’s conspiring against you? You’re not alone. Life often feels like a story where something—or someone—is working to derail your plans. This tension, this friction, has a name: the villain. Not always a cackling mastermind or a fire-breathing dragon, but a force—time, fear, a toxic colleague, or even monotony—standing between you and your goals. This trilogy, sparked by a conversation with my mentor about “heroes and villains,” is about rewriting your story. As we spoke, we agreed that villains could be anything blocking the path, from harsh critics to crushing deadlines. Reflecting on that, and inspired by StoryBrand, I realized: naming your villain is the first step to reclaiming your story as the hero and guide you’re meant to be.

Villains aren’t just obstacles—they’re mirrors reflecting what we value. As Hegel might say, they define us by revealing what matters most. A looming deadline stings because you care about impact or reliability. Self-doubt creeps in when you’re chasing something bigger—a promotion, a passion, or a moment of peace. Sartre would argue these struggles force us to confront our choices: who do you want to be when the villain appears? Heroes wrestle with relentless deadlines or naysayers not just to finish a task, but to pursue excellence, connection, or growth. Your villains aren’t mere problems; they’re signposts pointing to your deepest goals. What is your villain revealing about what you chase?

The stakes are high. Ignore your villain, and you risk more than a rough day. A demanding boss can chip away at your confidence, nudging you toward smaller dreams. Procrastination, left unchecked, might cost you chances to grow or connect. In software, "scope creep" describes how small changes pile up, complicating a project. Similarly, "villain creep" lets minor foes—distraction, people-pleasing, or self-doubt—grow into threats that steal your focus and drive. Unaddressed, they breed stress, stagnation, or a life that feels like a rerun instead of an epic. Pause and ask: what’s at stake if your villain takes charge? What goal—a project, a relationship, a spark of joy—might slip away?

Here’s the twist: villains, tough as they are, bring hidden gifts. They expose blind spots and outdated goals, nudging you to grow. A demanding boss might teach you to set boundaries, not just work harder. Procrastination could signal that your goals need refining—maybe that project isn’t about perfection but progress. I recently heard parents describe their struggle to get their child ready on time for, well, anything! Was the child the villain? No—they learned to plan ahead, leaving a 10-minute buffer for patience and guidance, easing the rush. It didn’t take long for the child to (a) grow out of that behavior and (b) learn better ways to get Mom’s and Dad’s attention. My mentor faced a similar lesson when a colleague’s discouraging words threatened his vision. By naming the villain—fear of failure, not his worth—he regained clarity. Villains loom large when your aims are vague. Like Bilbo sneaking past Smaug to claim the Arkenstone, clear goals shrink their power, turning obstacles into stepping stones and a deliberate plan.

Naming your villain isn’t about fighting—not yet. It’s about seeing clearly, like Bilbo spotting Smaug’s weak spot in The Hobbit or Luke targeting the Death Star in Star Wars. Smaug wasn’t just a dragon—he showed Bilbo his own courage and cunning. For Luke, the Empire wasn’t just a threat—it clarified his fight for justice. Your villains do the same. They set the stage, but you, the hero, write the story. Over the next couple articles, we’ll explore how to rise as that hero, acting on your goals with grit and wisdom, and how to become a guide, helping others face their villains too. For now, the first step is simple: notice. Next time you’re stressed or stuck, ask: what’s my villain? Is it time, doubt, a person, or something else?

Take a moment today. Grab a pen, a note app, or just a quiet corner of your mind. Name one villain blocking your path—big or small. Maybe it’s a deadline choking your creativity or a fear holding you back from a bold move. Write it down. That act of naming is your first rebellion against the villain’s power. It’s not about solving it yet—it’s about refusing to let it hide. Your story’s unfolding, and villains don’t get the last word. Ready to write your great epic adventure? Join us in the next article to discover the hero you are and can be.