The Wayward Warrior

I don’t like the story of the great epiphany or the miraculous healing or the overnight success, not because I don’t believe those things can happen, but because the expectation of them seems antithetical to the nature of our journey. We all want all the luck, the easy road, the clear path. But our characters, like our muscles, require a certain amount of pressure if they are to grow strong. I can’t be sure, but I trust that life is ultimately for the expansion and evolution of our souls. Change is inevitable, but it doesn't often happen in great bursts and big bangs. It is usually in incremental discoveries and shifts in our perception

that gradually lead us toward wholeness.

Our strength is rarely proven in moments of conquest, triumph and treasure, but rather in carrying on, as many times as we falter in our doubts; it is in facing heartache bravely, despite the cruel judgement of society; it is in following the dim light of faith that you are most often terrified you are only imagining; it is in fighting like a warrior, despite your weakened arms and rusty sword. And your reward is seldom, if ever a great revelation that changes the course of your life forever. It is instead, one more small clue in the boundless Mystery. The reward is not the world, or God; it is always and ever, more of yourself, and the slow steady realization that you are the median point between the Heavens and the Earth, and that death, as much as life, is guiding you to your freedom.