A Poem for Warrior I

A short intimate story about the beginning of my journey towards inner peace + my poem in honor of Warrior I

Artwork by Leath Huber

When I was fifteen years old, I sat with my best friend Emily at Sidewalk Cafe in New York City’s Alphabet City, and drew a picture. Outside, the streets were gritty spare some change raw, but I knew my way around with my heavy just in case I never go home book bag and my solid I own these streets combat boots.

I wish I had that picture now…. it was a self-portrait of myself that was bloated with an over-wide version of my nose, hair that was electric static frizzy and frayed, and pimples that dotted my face like moon craters and the wounds I licked but never spoke about.

I showed the drawing to Emily and said, “If I said all the things I say to myself to someone else they would look like this.”

Emily listened, considered, nodded.

"And…” I continued… “they might cry.”

I didn’t know it then, but this was the first time I consciously became aware of my inner voice, my chatter voice, my nit picky you are not good enough voice, my you don’t have to beat me up, I’ll do it for you voice— my subconscious mind running the show with bad programming and self-destruct software.

It was that loud that I could hear it pounding as if it was the bass line coming through the fuzzy speakers on a punk rock stage. I was that hunched over and that hurt by my own words.

When I reach back through space and time, I hug this version of myself and tell her how much she is loved.

I am an Aries, you see, so by nature I am a warrior, but I was a wounded warrior who was so scared of my father’s hardened heart, harsh words and raised hand that I shut down, went numb and without knowing it, I turned against myself.

But since I woke up to my thoughts, committed to a yoga, meditation, and breath work practice, embraced compassionate communication, and took ownership over my nervous system — I can begin to embody my version of what it means be a true warrior—

a warrior who is focused, committed, non-reactive, mothering, and advocates for conscious conversations, emotional maturity, respect, curiosity, non-judgement, on-reactivity, possibility and peace.

Oh, and hope.

And it starts within. It starts with me. And you. Possibly now. It is a practice. And it takes vigilance, dedication, and love. Lots of love.

Artwork by Shankar.

It is in this spirit that I crafted the poem, Warrior I.

I was intimidated to write this poem and actually every single one of my yoga poems. But to the part of me that has said, “Who are you to write these?”

I have answered, every morning, “I am the one saying yes.”

“If there’s no inner peace, people can’t give it to you.

The husband can’t give it to you.

Your children can’t give it to you.

You have to give it to you.”

—Linda Evans

Warrior I / Virabhadrasana I

I am not a yoga instructor, so this is not an instruction on how to take the shape of Warrior I, but an invitation to read this poem and possibly embracing the peaceful, humble, self-loving warrior within us all—

(And if you do want to learn more about Warrior I, you can watch this video or read more about it here.)

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What do you think of when you think of a warrior? Big question… but let’s give it a try. No right answers, no nay saying… just curiosity and exploration.

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Audio for Paid Subscribers

For my dear paid subscribers, you can listen to me reading Warrior I here.

For my other dear free subscribers, consider upgrading to become a paid subscriber. But if that is not in your script right now, no worries, I am grateful for you all!

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