
Peaceful Warrior
Lessons Learned: Month 5
The sanity and comfort that we seek in our tumultuous times is found in the small gestures and the simple acts that are easily within our reach.
We joke sometimes, the other military wives and I about the dichotomy of our toughness and vulnerability that uniquely make up the existence of “home-front warriors.” I ponder this odd journey I find myself on and wonder what it means. The answer has not entirely revealed itself to me yet, but this I do know; that the tangled web of moments, decisions and experiences that unfold are culminating in the transformation of the woman, the peaceful warrior that I have blossomed into.
As month 5 draws to a close it’s time to reflect on what I have lost and gained.
What have I lost?
5 pounds – This can be fortuitous or worrisome depending on your point of view.
Any sense of control – I have come to accept that the military controls my husband, for the time being at least. God, fate or the universe (substitute whatever you choose to believe) control our world, our lives and our future. No one can control the thoughts and actions of others. Even my children are mostly beyond my control. Sigh. Influence yes, control no. The only thing I truly control is my perception and reactions.
Any smugness or impression of supremacy based on talents or accomplishments – I have learned how precarious my semblance of order, organization and competence are. Knowledge and discipline can only go so far regardless of how efficient your system is. Life intervenes and even the most skilled individual can be blown off course by crisis, turbulence, utter exhaustion and sheer overwhelm.
Fear of appearing weak – The last vestiges of worrying about how I am perceived by others has dissipated. I cannot exist totally independent from others and why would I want to? I ask for help freely, I admit my fears and worries openly and I accept support gratefully.
What have I gained?
A sense of trust – I trust my husband not to put himself in unnecessary danger, to tell me if there is a need for me to be concerned and to give his family the position of top priority whenever possible. I trust my husband’s fellow soldiers to do their best to keep him safe. I also trust in my ability to handle whatever life throws my way.
Unqualified acceptance – That does not mean that I give up my prerogative to complain or try to alter the course of events, but that I accept what is reality in whatever form that takes right now. I accept my lack of control. I accept that there will be hardship and moments of devastation. I accept that it is not all about me and sometimes there is just nothing that can be done.
A core of strength and peace – I have slowly come to experience a sense of peace, a certain kind of knowing that all will be well in the end. It’s a revelation of just how far the limits of my strength and capacity can stretch and an inner calm that flows along with that knowledge.
I am not a pacifist, not in your wildest dreams, but no longer will I obsess over worry and control that elude me. I have grown to embrace the title and meaning of “peaceful warrior.” The personification of that in practical terms means that I save my worry for true and real concerns right now, instead of future possibilities. It means that I save my strength for matters over which I can have some influence and affect some change. It means that I conserve and expend my energy in synergy with the flow of life and with respect for the needs of my body and mind. It means that I am calm and focused, compassionate and forgiving and equally fierce and powerful when necessary.
It feels akin to taking the first step on a new path of unknown destination with no idea what landscape I will see along the way. What I do know is that I intend to keep my eyes, mind and heart open to everything life has yet to offer me.