The Dream of Death's Court: Acorn of God

I am kneeling. Chained. Head bowed. I feel as though I've lived through this a thousand times and I will witness my failure a thousand thousand more.

"LOOK UP, CHILD." A matronly voice echoes from nowhere yet everywhere. "YOU CAN NO LONGER ESCAPE FROM YOUR RESPONSIBILITY. YOU HAVE A ROLE STILL TO PLAY IN THE WORLD DRAMA. FACE WHAT HAS HAPPENED AND BE FREED."

A sob racks my chest, tears dripping from my cheeks. "I cannot. No more. I am weak. I have failed. Please, let it all end."

"THAT IS NOT FOR ME TO DECIDE, DEAR. I AM THE ULTIMATE TRUTH OF ALL EXISTENCE. IN ORDER FOR BALANCE TO COME, YOU MUST KNOW AND ACKNOWLEDGE ME. THEN YOU WILL BRING JUSTICE FOR THOSE YOU HELPED WRONG." A hand as soft as velvet, black as night, glowing with tiny stars tilts my chin up and I look into eyes deep with infinite compassion. "THE EGYPTIANS NAMED ME MAAT. THE HINDUS CALL ME KALI MA. TO THE PAGANS I AM SIMPLY THE GODDESS. I WIELD THE SWORD OF DIVINE KNOWLEDGE THAT DESTROYS IGNORANCE. I DESTROY SO THAT GROWTH AND CREATION CAN CONTINUE. WITHIN ME BOTH LIFE AND DEATH ARE BUT ONE ILLUSION." She kisses me on the forehead. "BE FREED, CHILD, AND TAKE ACCOUNT OF YOURSELF."

My fetters fall away to dust. I take a deep breath and stand. "What is the purpose of this..." I wave my left hand around in a circle. "thing. Scene? Hologram?" I shake my head. "I know what I've done and what happened. I don't need to be reminded of my misery for all eternity. I do that myself."

"BUT YOU DO. THE SELF EXPERIENCES ALL THE PAIN THAT IT CAUSED THROUGH ALL ITS BIRTHS. IT IS REQUIRED FOR PURIFICATION IN ORDER TO REUNITE WITH THE ALL. JUST AS CLAY NEEDS TO GO THROUGH INTENSE HEAT TO BECOME STRONG, LOVE CAN ONLY BE PERFECTED IN PAIN. YOU WERE BORN A PRIEST, INTO A MYSTIC FAMILY, MENTORED BY A SAINT. YOU WERE TRAINED AS A WARRIOR, DISCIPLINED AND FORGED. YOU KNOW THE POWER OF FORGIVENESS AND THAT MISTAKES ARE SIMPLY LESSONS TO LEARN. WHY ARE YOU SO STUBBORN, CHILD, THAT YOU TURN AWAY FROM WHO YOU ARE?"

"Who I am?! Mother Goddess, I cannot stand who I am. I know how I was raised, the lies that I believed. My Grandfather gave me the greatest wisdom, and I had once thought I knew God, that I had been freed from sin. When I left home, it was to find Love, but instead all I found was hate, lies, and pain. If I had been loved by God, why did He want me to feel this way, place me in the position to murder, where I was bound by my word to destroy all that I held sacred? The "enemy" I fought against believed they were fighting for God, and it was the same thing that I was told behind closed doors. They blasphemed God with their words. I did so with my actions. I knew better, I am not quite sure that they did."

"WHY DON'T YOU SPEAK TO HIM YOURSELF. I AM HERE TO REVEAL THE TRUTH. HE WILL SPEAK TO YOU OF DUTY." Maat points to my right, and I look to to see a four-armed, and blue skinned man grinning at one of the SERE cadre members moving in a slow blurr, as if he, and everyone in the memory, were trudging through water.

"Hello, Brandon. It's been a while. How are you doing?" He turns his grin at me. "I've heard your prayers. I'm sorry that we have to meet this way." Looking sideways at Maat, "Will you bring us to the Forge Point?"

"What's a 'Forge Point'?" I mumble to myself.

"IT'S A CROSS-POINT IN ONE'S LIFE WHERE THE EGO IS PLACED WITHIN THE FIRES OF THE SOUL TO BE CONTESTED. A DECISION IS MADE, USUALLY WITH GREAT TURMOIL AND SACRIFICE. FOR THAT WHICH IS CALLED THE SOUL, IN IT'S FINAL LIFE ON THIS WORLD, IS FORGED INTO THE TOOL THAT HUMANITY NEEDS. THIS IS YOUR FINAL LIFE, IT IS TIME THAT THE INSTRUMENT FULFILLED IT'S DUTY."

"One day you'll read the story about my avatar Krishna instructing a king on his duty. So I'll remind you of a story that you've already read, about how a king instructs a farm boy on his duty and what that means. This king was an entire kingdom in himself. He was a poet, and a dancer, the deadliest man on his feet. He was fighting a war, a man alone, against the ever present shadow that had destroyed the land of his ancestors. He was born to avenge what could not have been defended. This king's only creed were to honor and duty, though he feels deeply and passionately as expressed by his poetry. He taught that duty is as heavy as a mountain, death is as light as a feather. That the beauty that those who bear the sorrow of killing another human being will not be a reward in the afterlife. Beauty is created as they lived, and was a shield against the contrast of wading amongst Death." THE LORD turns to Maat and smiles. "The woman he loved chased after him as he chased death, believing that he will die in his war and that she deserved a wedding where she didn't wear black." HE reaches out to Her and She places Her hands in HIS. HE then gives me a sideways look "Only the worthy ones will chase you unto the end. Remember that." HE kisses Her hands. then drops them and turns back to me, two of HIS arms in military parade rest and the other two spread out as if to embrace me."The young two rivers lad asked the king if duty could ever be put down, because it got awfully heavy at times, and do you remember what the king's reply was?"

"...when you die," I whisper. "That's why I killed myself. I know my duty. I've read the stories and I've understood deeply within my heart what they mean. But I failed. I murdered people. I violated my duty to myself and god. I am a worthless sinner. I got caught up in what everyone else wanted me to be and I became the things that I hated most. I did my duty with honor and integrity, and fuck all those people who violated my person trying to make me fail because I did not in my service. But I have felt this sickness, this poison eating away at my being. I don't know why we fight, we're not fighting to protect anything other than greed and hate. I don't know why I punished myself by giving all I had to those ungrateful bastards, and then when I slipped, when I got injured doing my duty because I wanted to look at my service with pride and not inner shame, they discarded me like garbage, hoping that I'd die to save them money. Excuse me for saying so, my LORD, but... fuck them. However, I cannot escape that it was my actions that led me here and that I allowed them to destroy all I believed myself to be. I was not strong enough to survive that fall. Only you could do that." I sigh and fall to my knees. "I'm so tired of everything. It's like my inner fire is burnt out. My Will to Live is gone. No more fuel. I don't have a purpose. My dreams have been sacrificed. I don't know what to do." I start to sob.

"It's okay to cry, my son, just know that when that emotion runs its course that you still have a duty to uphold." HE bends over and places two hands on my shoulders, two on my head and kisses my forehead. "We brought you here to remind you that you cried out to us and WE are answering. You may feel like you have failed, but I have not. It is to MY Glory that I take a broken instrument and reforge it new. It is MY Grace that lifts you up in front of the world to tell the Truth of your experiences. You asked for a way to restore your honor to face the dead that you have killed. I am giving it to you. Do your Duty." HE steps back and addresses me as if giving commands, "Do what you feel is necessary and right, so long as it is motivated by love. You have been taught this since you were barely out of your mother's arms. Remember who you are. I AM with you."

"What will I do if I'm dead?" I mumble, bewildered. "How can I do my duty if I'm not alive?" I look around, "And what was all that about a 'Forge Point'?"

"You, my Son, are about to take a journey through your Hell to purify your essence in the Forge. There you will find beings of immense skill who will create tools of your heart and mind. Know that when you enter, Hope will abandon you, just remember that I will not." HE helps me to my feet and goes through the motions of tidying my person. "There. The Jury has made their decision. Your ancestors bore witness to this meeting, the Jury has taken measure of you and will decide that you pass neither to another life nor to dissolution. Tyr will be your guide. The Path will be decided by the Morrigan." HE smiles a Fatherly smile and gives me a fare-thee-well hug. "I know you'll be fine. You are my seed. The roots are deep indeed, that not even the fire of evil could destroy them. You have suffered much, and will more, know that this is the putrefaction process to eliminate the soul's impurities. In the end you will shine like gold."

"I don't understand any of this, what about my death?"

"DEATH IS BUT AN ILLUSION, CHILD, A CHANGE IN A STATE OF BEING. WE ARE IN CONTROL OF ALL THINGS AND MANKIND WILL REMEMBER THAT THROUGH YOU. IT IS TIME YOU AWOKE."

I find myself staring into the Eyes of Ganesha, laughter dancing within their depths as if he is aware of the cosmic joke. "You look confused. Don't worry, it will all make sense." He drops his voice to a shallow whisper, so quiet that I have to strain to make it out. "You have done your duty honorably, you were sabotaged by jealousy and hate. We are all here to help you fix what was wrong." He steps away, waves, and vanishes.

Tyr clears his throat, *AHEM*, I look at him.  "Now we hear the Decree."

The Dream of Death's Court: Druid Bound

"Call your first witness, In-quis-i-tor." The Morrigan air quotes at me. I look over at a tall vulpine, young man lazily leaning against a spear that bleeds with the fire of the sun. Strapped on his back is an elven blade and across his sun-kissed skin dances a druid's tattoos as blue as the clearest skies. He winks my direction and laughs.

"Don't be glamoured by the Tuatha Dé Danann, son. These ones spend way too much time with the fairy folk so they think they have to put on a show and out-do one another." Tyr waves his hand as if he's grabbing after something unseen and pulls a horn of mead out of the air. " 'Cept I've never seen anyone out play The Morrigan. That one holds all the cards, she does."  He takes a drink. "Watch. It can't be done."

"Oh, you THINK, all-mighty judge, your honor, ma'am, that I chose the title off-hand? I'm not here to persecute, I'm here to help us all inquire as to why. Isn't this the same title and position that was used to find us all out and burn us at their pyres, to judge us against their god's decree? Didn't this man, "he points his spear at me and fire drips lazily from it's tip," once serve that same god, murdering just the same?" He slams the butt of the spear into the floor. "Changing one's spiritual practice does not absolve one of the responsibility of their actions." He slams the spear down again. "I Will NOT bring a tainted and diseased soul into our realms. He WILL pass through the fire, or Dissolution take him."He slams the spear point into the floor. "Let's get straight to the point and not play these games." In one motion he leaps, draws the sword from his back, bringing it straight for my neck in a perfectly executed swing.

"LUGH, STOP!" The Morrigan screams.

I close my eyes, and breathe a sigh of relief.

*CLANG*

One perfect tone rings in the air. I open my eyes to see Tyr having drawn his blade and with the flat of it stopped the killing blow of the Celtic god of the Storm's sword.

"Fragarach isn't going to win this contest for you, Clever One. I'm here to make sure that justice is served.  That means we play this out, and your Druid games come second." Tyr effortlessly pushes him aside then sheathes his blade. "

The Morrigan laughs wildly, "Oh, Clever Lugh, you can't deny me this prize! He may be a descendant of our people, but his ancestors turned away from our teachings. He must pay the price of that betrayal before he answers for any other. How else can he be judged by our standards?"

Lugh sighs. "I thought I could one up you." He puts the sword on his back then smiles. "I had you worried for a second."

The Morrigan crosses her arms and gives him petulant stare. "Only because this one deserves our attention." She looks directly at me, through me. I shiver. "I do not take self-murder lightly, however, I know despair."

"I don't dread my Fate, ma'am. I've read enough of the Lore of the soul to know the consequences of my actions. Even in life, those actions that were out of my control I still had a measure of responsibility.  I lost my faith. I gave in to the weight that crushed my will to live. I cannot feign ignorance, as my knowledge of what happens to those souls who bring no glory to god, they will not bring any to his foes. I will not blaspheme God nor my parents; the place, time, and seed that did engender me and give me birth. No penance could I serve and no boon would I ever ask to take this from me. Before this goes any further, I accept whatever judgement that you pass. I prayed for oblivion."

"Oh child, you have learned many painful lessons in this life, but the most painful one that you should acknowledge is that you can't escape through MY Door."  The light dims. "You are my food, I will last until this universe dissolves it's final atom, ad infinitum.  Brahman, the Ultimate Reality, even Him I will consume."  She points a finger at Lugh without looking in his direction. "Inquisitor, begin."

Lugh sighs. "Play the life-sequence, Ganesha." He taps his spear on the ground. "You'll be witnessing and reliving your life. Each moment will be known before you get to it, and you will feel every emotion fresh, every thought as if new. You will not be able to change or affect anything. Observe, see who you really are, and stand ready for judgement before all of Creation."

Ganesha materializes in front of me. "Don't worry, brother," he whispers, "I'm with you until the end." He smiles then places the tip of his broken tusk on my third eye, wrapped in his trunk. I'm pulled away to another place. When I come to, I'm back in SERE Training. When reality hits me, it is like I'm chained inside my head.

I scream.

The Dream of Death's Court: A Sorrowful Goodbye

When I was growing up I was told to pay attention to dreams. That they could guide you to right action through foreseen troubles. Then I learned that I could create dreams, that I could dream in waking day. I grew up with stories of Gods and Monsters, Angels and Demons, Heroes and Villains. They painted and shaped my world with their invisible appendages, thoughts and emotions.

Who is to say what will be when we end, is all up to whatever their imagination can aspire it to be. With the sorrows that the world carries, it can only hope that we find some sort of justice for each of our deeds when passing into the next life. What would you do? Who would be in your pantheon? How would you feel?

I don't know about anyone else but I really like super serious reflection and finding ways to bring grim scenarios the due they deserve. I find that my tether to the living world is strong enough to prevent me from losing my way, but there was a point where I had given up all hope, ready to face whatever justice lay before me.

In the Christian tradition that I grew up in, we were given a court room scenario, in which Christ would be our advocate before God. As I decided to venture along my own path, I've thought about who would be my Advocate, and who would be my Judge. I've given serious weight to who would be my enemies and who would be my heroes. I've confronted each of those things, on my cosmic scale.

Maybe that's why this was so easy to write, because it's played out in my head so many times, but I had been so immersed in sorrow I had not the light to reflect. And for whatever reason the universe has given me one reason to never give in. So all this remains is a dream, a fading pain. Every so often something triggers a vivid reality and I use that as a method to reflect. It keeps that tiny spark alive, undying in the void.

Let's explore a coward's death, dishonored, and disavowed.  The life spark within had burnt out, a hallowed husk of what could have been. This was a possible future, a broken path. A What If(?) had I been successful in my first attempt back in 2012 after my accident.

Enjoy

*************

My head shoots off the table as if it had been smacked, drool matting my beard. Last thing I remember was looking over at my dog as I placed the gun's barrel into my mouth. I was apologizing...

I look over to see a shadow coalescing into a vaguely human shape coming in from the judge's office. Somewhere in the back of my mind I register somebody saying, "please rise." Glancing around I realize I'm already standing. My hands are empty. The lights are too bright. I can't feel my breathing or my heartbeat.

**MWA-MWA-MWA**

I look over at the direction of the sound. The man shape to my left is slowing coming into form, like smoke becoming solid in front of me. His kind and knowing eyes are the first to appear. I freeze as they uncover my own shadows and weigh my very soul.

"Sit down, son. It's okay. Everyone experiences the disorientation. Your method of death the most difficult. Some spirits don't even make it through the transition and go straight to dissolution." His mouth appears as a wry smile and a bushy brown beard bursts into life around it. "I've reviewed your case. Thank you for your prayers."

"Whaaa...?" Lights and shadows dance around the room forming into the jury and the audience. "But Kali? The Morrigan? ...Odin? Kratos?"

"Sit down, everything will be explained as soon as everyone finishes arriving. Kali, she's the goddess of destruction. Morrigan, the goddess of Death whose aspect is set to judge you right now. Odin is more prone to hanging himself in sacrifice to himself than appearing in a court room... and Kratos is a video game character." He gestures wildly behind him, "All the other gods, spirits, ancestors, ghosts, demons, and all manner of creatures that you've ever imagined and have hidden from your imagination are here to witness today's sorrow.*" By this time he had finished manifesting and was brushing ash off of his pants with his left hand. His entire right arm is covered with a black wolf pelt and under it peaks the hilt of a fine sword with a silver pommel. His clothing well made, but simple, showing no adornments but the heavy weave and tight stitching.

I grab the back of my chair and slowly sit down while taking in the rest of the room.

The myths and legends I grew up with filled up every seat. Orcs & Humans, Elves & Dwarves, angels, demons, gods, monsters, sins, and virtues... I recognize them all. When I pass my gaze over to the Juror's area, I sink lower into my chair. Six of my Heroes and Six of my Enemies all stare quietly at me. I look over at the man who I suppose is my lawyer. "Am I on trial..?"

"It will be explained to you in a moment. Relax. You died. This is my favorite part. I love the introductions."

"Mr. Bryant, please stand," The Morrigan began. "Your life will be reviewed, weighed, and judged, in accordance to the the Laws of Spiritual Accountability." She waves her right hand in front of her to acknowledge the audience and her cloak of shadow mists parts to reveal her unclothed form beneath. She gives me a wicked grin. "All mankind find that their afterlife experience is exactly what they believe in the deepest and most secret parts of their hearts. I am the Chooser of the Slain and you have given me offerings and prayers in according to your ancestral traditions. I will judge and choose your fate. Do you have anything to say before we begin?"

"Staff Sergeant, Ma'am."

"Excuse me?"

"It's a title I earned in life. I would request that I be recognized by it. If you are to be my judge and the man next to me be my advocate," I gesture and look at him in the eye. He smiles," the god of war and justice from the Norse pantheon," I look back at The Morrigan, "then I believe that what I earned in life under your spheres of influence should be acknowledged."

"Well then, Staff Sergeant Bryant, I grant your request. Anything else?"

"No, Ma'am. I'm prepared."

"Then let us begin. Your ancestors will bear witness. Your Heroes and Enemies will weigh your life. Tyr will advocate for fairness. I will be the final arbiter."

Apologia for Love

a·pol·o·gy

əˈpäləjē

noun

noun: apology; plural noun: apologies

1. 1.

   a regretful acknowledgment of an offense or failure.
2. 2.

   a very poor or inadequate example of.
3. 3.

   a reasoned argument or writing in justification of something, typically a theory or religious doctrine.

***

To Whom It May Concern,

If ever I were to apologize for anything it would be that I don't believe that I have loved enough. Or maybe it was that I have loved the wrong things too much and the right ones not enough. Where I gave into fear instead of grace, I drowned in self-loathing for the creature that I became. Every decent-seeming man would deny orders over his heart, so I am not a decent man.

What are we, if not monsters, we who have stolen the humanity from our enemies then snuffed out their lives as if they were a candle's flame? Can such men be redeemed? By what measure shall we use? We see many today in our society cover themselves in glitter as if that can hide their scales and a fancy coat can cover up wickedness. But by what, again, are these things measured?

For who am I to say such wicked sins exist if I am one who has perpetrated much as well? Was I, or was I not instructed in right and proper behavior? Can my sins be absolved by the waving of wands and a toss of a Hail Mary? Can I turn a blinded eye towards the wrongs that I did towards others, when Justice herself is blind and I am only half so? Where can somebody who has been wronged and has done grievous things find absolution?

I once tried to run, but where do you go when you are trying to escape from yourself? When even Death is denied to you?

The recent celebrity suicides always brings to mind my own attempts and I always spend time considering of whether I have done the right thing with not following through with my own murder. I had three times where I deliberated it, pretty much each for the same reason.

I read a tweet thread about Anthony Bourdain, where his ex-girlfriend posts about what depression is like. For me it was as if my life was draining out of me, my spirit or essence, like a perpetual bleeding wound that couldn't heal. The light that I once had in my eyes, the optimism I had about the world, slowly suffocating in the darkness until I couldn't even see it within my self. My sun was black as pitch, and burned with the fires of a thousand dying stars. There were no evening lights in the night sky to guide my way.

In the way that makes up our mortal life, I had found myself in a gloomy wood, astray, for the right path had been lost. I was harassed by the beasts and monsters that lay hidden within mankind, showing me the ugliest parts of myself and others. I made my way through my hells, danced with deadly sins, and wrestled with the virtues that remain within every soul.

Anthony Bourdain imagined himself a fraud. I imagine myself a failure.

I had written the details of my suicide attempts but had found them drawing me back into those places and I find that I have trouble arguing with my own reasons for ending my life. I also always seem to find that one reason to not. And that is not a failure of love, but a reason to apologize that it is not simply shared more.

And I think that if anything maybe we can see that Mr. Bourdain was a person on a journey, like all of us are, he opened very many people's perspectives on themselves. Which, by the fruits that they bare shall ye know them. And it would be a failure of mine if I didn't share my reflections, of why we get to those places. Of how the deepest questions that we ask our selves, we can't escape them. No matter what.

And so to we, who face death, or have dived passed and came back, I want to say thank you. And to recognize you is not a failure. Because that one atom's breath that keeps the kindle burning, I think that is something that needs to set us all a blaze.

Because I can tell you that one question that we all ask, why? Why take another breath? And by what measure is that worth it?

By these things that I have seen, it always comes down to that one thing that should never be fraudulent, and one that is desperately exploited by our modern society.

And by that measure, if genuinely held in the light and comforted in the darkness, I would say that if they can discover that within themselves, they are neither a fraud nor a failure. That is the only thing that will guide them through their day. For they, in spite of all they see and have experienced, know what the world is needing the most.

Dudes with a bleeding heart, but more importantly a reflection as to why it needed to be bled in the first place. Because we can see that the blood is already on our hands. I, who has clearly spilt a drop, would do all that is within my power to prevent one more tragic loss.

I have seen my enemies through a digital screen. I hunted their pixels across data streams. For 16 seconds I was god, then I saw what a mess we made. Where once honor was planted, war tore asunder, and I understood the nature of what we've become. My entire belief system made obsolete at push of a button.

And by this nature I'm not sure if I am to be commended on my seeking or tormented and ridiculed, because from the moment that they made me a killer I knew that there would be no cleansing my soul. So I sought a way to create beauty where none existed around me. If my soul be painted with my sins let it be a story for you to know that in the end of all things, Love is all there needs to be known.

I am a warrior, for what do I fight? I am a priest, what do I worship? I am a magician, what do I create?

Cannot all of these things be one and the same?

I know that I feel my most powerful when love resides in my breast. I would worship that which gives me the same sense of complete satisfaction, and exercise my will upon natures strands just to see her dance.

There are times I wonder why we spend so much time wondering things. We can figure out the universe is numbers, and we can imagine infinitude, but are we actually paying attention to what we're being told? When it comes right down to it, we should.

Because, let me tell you, it kept me from giving up, taunting me with "you'll just be here again if you do." After my belief in god, country, and self had all been destroyed, the wicks to that effervescent fuel were dirty, indeed. I let what other's tell me who they thought I was matter. I lost myself.

I was degraded and I sought appeasement as the mongrel I was, I was bent but never broken, to what purpose am I to be, a tool from the master's forge, but what happens when the sword breaks?

I've read enough fantasy to follow that quest to it's end, but let me actually show you it's reward.

I have paid the price, and it was worth paying because it must be paid. Wisdom, will aid your weary bones, and knowledge pay your life's passage. Seek these things and you will see many wondrous and terrible things. You just have to make sure that your wonder doesn't turn you into a monster. And you have to make sure that Fear doesn't kill your Mind.

because even if you find yourself broken, that even a candle would be as the sun in the darkness of your life, it is that nature which drives us no more than any beast, by human tongues it is expressed, in all it's hallowed out and worn vernacular, the world bleeds for love.

I just wish we'd all stop with the bleeding.

And I tell you, before I close this letter, that even now my heart bleeds from the wounds that have been given me, and I would not wish a breath of the pain that I have felt to touch the moisture on their skin.  There are enough natural wildfires without us having to put out emotional ones too. My heart hurts for the suffering they must be going through to hurt me like they have. I wish them to be free.

Place me like a seal over your heart, like a seal on your arm; for love is as strong as death, its jealousy unyielding as the grave. It burns like blazing fire, like a mighty flame.

Here is my Apology for Love,

Respectfully Yours,

B. Bryant

All Is Fair (Poetic Interlude)

Strangely enough
I am happily married
to a woman who has caused me
no end to misery.
To be able to endure
the barbs of her tongue
grants me the freedom
to roam.
For if her bosom
was a welcoming embrace
then maybe
I'd call it a home.

The Trick,
I see,
is boyish glee
wielded with the competence
of a man
and if troubles do befall
a laugh is what we'll have.
For I have Love
sealed upon my heart
and if there is anything else
I've seen,
it's that we'll have
the chance
to do it once again
from the beginning
for eternity.

All Is Fair (Part 2)

"If you know yourself and your enemy, you need not fear the results of a hundred battles."
-Sun Tzu, The Art of War

***

My entire life changed once I entered the Military recruiting station in Missoula, Mt on the evening of the 12th of December, 2004. The Daily Mail, a British Tabloid, said that I had "accidentally" entered the military. By far the funniest thing I'd ever read about myself, and still a pretty sore point for some of the stupidest people on the planet. Because I've never done anything "accidentally."

I simply had no scope of the shit I was getting myself into. I had originally signed up to be a 1T0, SERE Instructor, but due to my aptitude scores I was shoved over into the intelligence school. Which was the worst mistake of my entire life (so far) because it led to the greatest things in my entire life. Probably how it should go anyways.

I was never meant to be a soldier. I just needed to be familiar with the training and lifestyle. Like all things that I do, I gave it my entire heart. Even after the people that I worked with shit all over my social life.  But then again, that ended up perfectly fine because none of those people are worth the salt in their blood in the first place. Since my accident, I've really had to think about WHY it was I even placed myself into the position that I did to join the military.

It was the first time I ever had thought I could love a person. She was two years younger than me, we met online through our Hotmail profiles. I thought it was a joke at first. I had friends that I had met through Diablo II and AOL, but she had sent me a flirty message about the picture that I had taken.  She didn't have one up, so I politely asked for one back so I could give her a respective compliment.

It wasn't the auburn hair or the color of her eyes, though now I don't even remember the color exactly, it was the fiery spirit that was emblazoned upon her face, as in "nothing could conquer me." That was the first time I think I truly fell in love. And I couldn't believe it.

We talked. So much that we went over our minutes and she had to pay a stupid large phone bill. I had free calling in the US (yeah, that was a new thing), she didn't. I lost contact with her in the beginning of December 2004, but I remember her telling me that she thought that men in uniforms were sexy, and apparently that was enough of a drive for me to talk to the Air Force recruiter that night on the 12th when I had taken one of my friends to see the Army recruiter. We know enough of that story at this point.

What we don't know is that I would have backed out had she not convinced me that we were going to join up together, and then when I had signed the papers I called her to find out that she had backed out at the last second. We were supposed to sign the papers "together." I didn't hear from her again until after Basic Training. I had decided to try to call her to see if her number was still connected. She answered the phone, and her voice melted away all doubts and fears.

***
I must only love.

Love is the mind-melter.

Love is the little-sun that brings total illumination.

I will face my love.

I will permit it to pass over me and through me.

And where it has grown I will turn the inner eye to see its path.

Where the love has grown there will be blossoming. Only light will remain. 

***

We reconnected for a few weeks before she disappeared completely.  Maybe it's not important what we talked about other than I was reminded of why I loved her in the first place. Sure, she lied to me and played games with my heart and head, but love surpasses all of that. Even though I no longer "love" her today, my entire life changed because of it. I wouldn't have done most of the things in my life without that prompt of life. That awakening of desire to find my other half. 

I've killed, been beaten, pushed myself beyond my limits many many times.  And it's all been for love. All of it.

And I couldn't have asked for a more glorious adventure. 

All Is Fair (Part 1)

"Love and war are all one . . . It is lawful to use sleights and stratagems to . . . attain the wished end."
-Don Quixote, Miguel de Cervante

***

I can think of no other stark polar opposites than Love and War, save perhaps Life and Death. But then again, they're one and the same.  I have spent a long time thinking about this subject.  Examining, ingesting, digesting, practicing, adjusting, applying...  It's an endless cycle, but one that needs to be maintained.

I think this grimness of thought has always been with me. Having been the only male in my family of my generation for the first 10 years of my life, with the only other male members of my family not having much involvement in my direct upbringing, I've always been of the mind of discovering my own place in the world.  From the very beginning I have been a Seeker. The world wasn't harsh, it just was. The environment that I was in flourished with love and struggle, with love always coming out on top.

I heard tales of my grandpa, Lanny Bryant, and his journey to his Legend.  About his life philosophy, mixing Christian mysticism and the sport of Wrestling, and his wonderful faith that had been cultivated in him by his own Father. I have never met a man more honorable in my entire life.  And today, I honor him in planting the acorn of the warrior in my heart, because it has grown into a mighty Oak. Even though we disagree in matters of religion, I know we march to the same beat in terms of heart and soul.

I once heard Joe Rogan say, "show me a great man who is the son of a great man," well, I just showed you the son. And where my grandpa gave me the heart to persevere, my Great-grandfather gave me the strength to love through his daily practice and devotions of it in his life. He was a Christian Mystic through and through.  His every breath was giving worship to his god and the life that he had been given.  If anyone could have been said to have achieved the Christ-consciousness in this era, he'd be in the running for sure. And the way that he looked at his wife, with complete adoration and love, made it easier to fight against immediate gratification of my carnal desires, and the then satisfaction of them more complete. 

The best compliment I could give of these men is that they truly walk with God.

In my own struggles I pull from the wisdom that these men have given me, and in fact have found it repeated in many other places throughout history, in different religions and philosophies.  But I believe the greatest part about it is that they work in practical application. Beyond their greatness, they have truly shown me what it means to be a "good man." Through that goodness, I have come to understand the virtues and fruits of the soul.

I can think of no better time to share what they have taught me and what I have learned. I have journeyed far and wide, both inside and out. I have repaired my heart and soul with my own work. And I have fought for the opportunity of my lifetime without any deceit. I can tell you this as somebody who has fought for both love and war. If you fight in war, you fight in deception, but if you fight in love, it can only be in truth.  That's the difference, and that is why in both, all is fair.