As we leave Afghanistan- and new young soldiers are ushered in, my heart hurts and my soul remembers. I seem to come back to the same theme- understand the dichotomy of these situations.
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These sit on my dresser around a beautiful mermaid- to remind me. To guide me. To keep me focused. My dichotomy and the variances of this life…

Spiritual warrior is not an easy thing to be. Not now, not ever. One foot in the world of the soldier and protector, one foot in the world of the yogi and mystic. 

One hand on the earth, our literal boots on the ground…one hand raising to Spirit and and faith of the Gods. 

One shoulder carrying a M16/my AR15- a knife or bayonet in your belt- the other shoulder holds a meditation shawl, and prayers of peace, love, and no wars. 

Today- I will wear my Army dog tags and my meditation mala of 108 beads, reciting mantras for no harm done and protection for our men and women. Today- I will weep from a broken heart, while I simultaneously have a knowing it is all at it should be. That blood is to be shed. That we can’t hide from atrocities and polarization. That we can look away- but I wasn’t meant to…not this time around. 

My ancestors will carry me and provide me with strength- while we carry the next generation to war. Those scared shitless 18-22 year olds who have to go face the Taliban and ISIS- that I was trained to be. To hurt and be hurt by people who are innocent, who share the same hearts, and want the same things. 

I will hold them in my broken heart and strong Spirit. And I will never leave them. Not in this life. 

This yin. This yang. This dark and light. The observing and participating. Processing and numb- while alive and alert. 

Sending love to all of you- while we break and shatter- and transform and heal once again. May the Gods have mercy upon our souls. 💗🙏