Weary Warrior Stories

And How To Dance With Them

A Swarm of Stories

I have heard it said that some people understand us humans to be comprised of stories. That we walk around as a swarm of stories. These stories define us, make us who we are, and determine how we see the world. I know this to be true for me. Most of these stories live in the Otherworld, out of my conscious awareness.

There are many stories we each carry, they don't necessarily agree with each other and might vie to be the one in our conscious awareness at any one time. Others operate under the surface of our awareness, influencing our words and actions without us even knowing it.

Some of these stories are core to who we are, we come into this world with them, and take a lifetime to allow them to unfold in our lives. Some play a minor role, we pick them up along the way. Others we gather from our community and culture. Many stories we author as we interact with the world. Some stories uplift and inspire us, others drag us down.

Weary Warrior Stories

There is a certain category of stories we all seem to carry that I have come to understand as Weary Warrior stories. These it seems we create early in life, at those precious thresholds where we first encounter the harshness of the world. The places where our tender hearts first crosses into the territory of betrayal, abandonment, abuse, mistrust or hurt - often, unintentionally, at the hands of those we love the most. At these times of heartbreak we instinctively author an internal Warrior Story, one designed specifically to protect our tender hearts from being hurt again.

We each carry our own version of these Warrior Stories - "I'll never love again", "It's not safe to show who I really am", "Love is pain", "I can't trust anyone but myself", "I'll always be alone", "No one will ever love me fully", "Showing how I feel is weakness and too risky", and on and one they swarm around us.

At the time we birth these stories they are needed. We don't have the capacity to work through the hard feelings we are having, we likely don't have the support from a wiser, older, guide to help us process how we feel and integrate it. So we, rightfully, author a strong warrior to protect us from experiencing this hurt again.

This warrior does their work well. They keep watch over us looking out for anything that smells like that fresh hurt. They put up their shield to keep it away. If pushed they will stab at the encroaching potential hurt until it goes away. They grit their teeth and hunch their shoulders against the elements and they stand constantly vigilant.

Eventually, as time passes, the warrior's jaw hardens from all the clenching, their shoulders get stiff up around their ears from the hunching and their arms get tired of pushing people away. The vitality and spontaneity gradually drains from them as they turn to stone, now deeply entrenched in our nervous systems. But they keep protecting us, that is their reason for being, they gave their word, so they keep going out of an old, forgotten code of honor.

Embracing The Battle Weary

These warriors tend to show up at my fire when they have reached this hardened phase, battle weary, crying for help on the inside but stiff and resolute on the outside. They no longer remember why they are clenching, hunching and stabbing, they just know they've always done it and cannot imagine doing anything else. These are Weary Warrior stories, we all have them.

When a Weary Warrior shows up in my presence the first thing I do is salute them. I acknowledge how hard they have been working all these years in the service of safety, and protection of this tender heart. This can be surprising for them. They have been doing their work for so long, unacknowledged, alone, and been so busy looking out for potential attack that being appreciated for their service tends to disarm them. They may lower their shield, drop their sword and look at me in confusion, tears beginning to well in their eyes.

They are starting to soften, a glimmer of supple, green light beginning to show through the grey, granite of their being. Then I ask,

"what do you need?"

The very presence of the question in the air can bring them to their knees, weeping, overwhelmed by the recognition that they have never before been asked what they need, their focus has always been on the needs of the heart. Yet the answer is there, a deep, wellspring of yearning waiting for a crack to open in the surface above.

"Rest, I need to rest, I need to lay down these arms...

... but I can't, it's too risky, too much at stake".

And so it goes for a while. The dance between the vital spring of the soul's needs and the rock of the mind's beliefs. All I can do now is love. I stay grounded in my own soul, the steadiness of my own authentic being, without any agenda for this dear one sitting in front of me. I breathe, I listen, I reflect what's happening, holding a sweet mirror up for them to see the dance unfolding now.

Stepping Into the Dance

At some point they recognize they've actually been doing this dance for some time but it's been happening below their level of their awareness, in the shadow of themselves, an Otherworldly Tango draining their vibrancy. Now it is out in the sunlight for all to see. This making it visible seems to help the mind let go, to allow the stone to break apart so the sparkling water can flow, bringing new life to the parched, dusty, ground.

As the warrior's stone exterior crumbles, out comes all the life-giving stories that have been gathered along the road since the warrior took up their post of vigilance. These are stories of trust, resource, love, abundance, beauty, and connection. These are stories to live by, stories that know the heart is stronger than ever imagined, that it may be broken again and that it will be repaired, bigger, more full of light than before. These are stories that know we are all a work in progress, growing stronger with each heartbreak. These are the stories that tell of wonder and delight in exploring the world, the thrill of being vulnerable and adored for the fullness of who we are, the joy of falling in love and turning to face ourselves.

Out of this upwelling of soulful knowing the warrior emerges renewed, no longer clenching, hunched and stabbing but standing with arms wide open, welcoming all of life to come dance.

There is an old Celtic proverb that says,

"Never give a man a sword until he has learned to dance",

I wonder what these ancestors knew that we are having to re-discover.

Want to Dance?

If you think you might have some hardened warrior stories in there I have two opportunities to dance coming up:

A Forest of Stories: A One-Day Nature Connection and Re-Storying Retreat.
Saturday September 21st, 10am - 4pm, The Forest Farmacy, Marshall, NC

Celtic Medicine Stories Weekend Workshop
Friday February 14 - Sunday 16, 2025, at the John C. Campbell Folk School in Brasstown, NC,