The Warrior’s Paradox: A Special Forces Veteran’s Spiritual View on War and Iran

“The enlightened ruler is heedful, and the good general full of caution.” -Sun Tzu, The Art of War

The Warrior Archetype

Shortly after 9/11, I, along with our ODA, sat in the Battalion conference room and received a series of Staff Briefings to prepare us for deployment to Afghanistan. Each staff officer stood and presented expertly prepared information and analysis on their areas of expertise. We were briefed on the history of Afghanistan, Islam, and the two main branches, Shia and Sunni, the language, the Strategic, Operational, and Tactical plans, and potential timelines. I don’t think anyone in that room would have guessed that we were about to begin a journey that would last twenty years.

Through an interesting turn of events, my post-military career led me on a healing path, a path of healing myself and participating in the healing of others. On this path, I began to see war through a different lens. I learned about archetypes and “shadow.” An archetype is a universal, original model or pattern for a person, idea, or situation that appears across cultures and time, like the “Hero” or “Trickster,” representing shared human experiences and often found in myths, literature, and psychology. Archetypes also have their opposites represented in the “shadow.” In the bestselling book King, Warrior, Magician, Lover, the authors elevate the masculine archetype of Warrior as a sacred role in civilization. The healthy expression of the warrior archetype is one of courage, discipline, loyalty, and competence. Conversely, the non-sacred, shadow version of the Warrior would be the warmonger.

The Warrior Tradition Across Cultures

Historically speaking, warriors of every culture prepared for combat physically through rigorous and grueling physical training as well as mental discipline for the ultimate test of battle. However, some of the most idealized examples not only prepared the body and mind for battle but also the soul.

Among the Japanese samurai, martial discipline was paired with the contemplative practices of Zen Buddhism, forming a philosophy that shaped how warriors approached combat, death, and duty. Samurai were encouraged to meditate, contemplate mortality, and cultivate inner stillness so that when action was required, it could arise without hesitation or panic. This spiritual discipline did not romanticize violence; rather, it was intended to ensure that a warrior maintained honor, humility, and control over the immense power they wielded. In this way, Zen functioned as both a psychological and moral counterbalance to the samurai’s lethal skill.

Among the Lakota and other Plains tribes, warrior societies served not only as military organizations but as cultural and spiritual institutions responsible for protecting the tribe and maintaining balance within the community. Young men were taught that bravery in battle was inseparable from responsibility to the people, the land, and the spirits. Vision quests, ceremonies, and guidance from elders were integral to preparing a warrior, emphasizing humility and service rather than conquest. Lakota warriors understood themselves as guardians rather than aggressors, and spiritual traditions helped ensure that the warrior path remained rooted in respect for life and harmony with the natural world.

In Norse culture, warriors often saw battle through a spiritual framework shaped by myth, ritual, and a deep relationship with the unseen world. The Norse believed that fate—wyrd—wove through every life, and that courage in the face of death was one of the highest virtues. Certain warriors, such as the legendary berserkers, were said to enter altered states during battle, invoking the strength and spirit of animals like bears or wolves. These states were not merely acts of fury but were connected to ritual practices, spiritual symbolism, and a belief that the warrior could momentarily transcend ordinary consciousness. Norse cosmology also held that fallen warriors might be chosen by the Valkyries to enter Valhalla, reinforcing the idea that battle existed within a larger spiritual narrative. While modern portrayals often focus on the brutality of Viking warfare, the culture itself understood courage, honor, and loyalty as sacred virtues intertwined with the warrior’s path.

In each of these well-known examples, warriors did not glorify war, but rather saw it as a sacred, spiritual role.

Viewing conflict through a Spiritual

Perhaps one of the greatest mistakes that we, the GWOT era soldiers, made was ignoring the psychological cost of war. Ancient cultures knew the cost borne by the warrior and accounted for it.

In ancient Greece, warfare created a form of spiritual pollution called miasma. Warriors returning from battle underwent purification rituals to cleanse themselves before reentering society. These ceremonies could include ritual bathing, sacrifices to the gods, and symbolic purification with water or fire.

Norse sagas and historical accounts describe warriors participating in rituals of reintegration involving feasts, storytelling, and offerings to the gods after battle. These gatherings served both spiritual and psychological purposes. Warriors honored fallen comrades, acknowledged the gods believed to guide battle, and reconnected with their community. The communal feast helped transform the warrior from a figure of destruction back into a member of society.