Peaceful Warrior

 

Be a peaceful warrior,
With faith in your strength
And strength in your faith.

 

May you turn both eyes inward
To understand and reflect on
The battles within.

 

Take turn to look outward,
Sensing and appreciating
The battles without.

 

Have trust in your armor;
Although you bear its heavy weight,
It will always protect you.

 

Be a peaceful warrior,
Wisely choosing your battles,
While never losing hope.

 

 

*******************************************************************

 

 

Less than a year ago, I was chin deep in a pile of texts and hand-outs, frantically studying for my neuroscience mid-term. While using a Frank Netter human anatomy atlas for my pillow many nights, I would’ve never guessed that given a year – I would be floating in the warm Caribbean Ocean and enjoying a good novel.

 

It sure is a whole lot more inviting down here than in the dark and quiet insanity of a medical school library. For some reason, the books I have read on the beach seem to stick a bit heavier to my mind. I figure must have something to do with the added salt content.

 

The stories that I have really sunk my teeth into lately have been excellent fodder for my imagination. While in the didactic phase of med school, I grew used to painstakingly scouring through waxy pages of thick  texts. My primary  goal of content memorization. The current set up is so much better.  I finally finished Moby Dick, for the first time. Up until last Saturday, I assumed that I had read it, but who was I kidding. I read a weather beaten synopsis, and authored a questionable C+ caliber book report in the 10th grade. As it turns out, there was a bit lost in the Cliff Notes interpretation.

 

Down here on island the “library” that  I have been frequenting isn’t a library at all. My local book depository is actually a sailboat that belongs to a couple named the Moore’s. It is tied up just a stones thrown from the west side of the property.

 

The Moore’s are based out of Denver, Colorado. Daniel is a well known nonfiction writer, and Judy is a registered nurse. Judy works at the hospice, and is probably the most down to earth woman I have ever met. I have learned there is no bullshitting with this dame. She calls things like she sees them, and sees things like she calls them. Somehow she is generally spot on.

 

Judy and Daniel have a house on the East end of the Island but spend most of their days down on their beautiful forty two foot yacht. As it turns out, about thirty five of  those feet are lined with amazing books. Judy told me there were about 3200 books in total, and they represented the favorites of their “collection”. Daniel jokes that they are their to act as a ballast to keep the vessel upright.

 

They bought this beautiful  boat just after Daniel’s third best seller hit it big in New York. He authored a treatise on the  European Union and its effect on the world economy. Despite the academic subject matter in his own books, Daniel was clearly an aficionado of fine literature.  He also knows how to enjoy his books.  I have never experienced a more amazing place to sit and read a book than on his boat. On-board there are several designated reading areas lined up on the deck and in the cabin. They also have a pretty impressive scotch collection tied down in the galley. That might further explain why Judy sleeps down on the boat most nights that she works at Altamount.

 

Daniel and Judy split time between the mountains and the sea. Judy has been down since August, and plans on staying through next May. I have to admit I am pretty excited that they both will be here through the end of my experience. I have learned so much from them both already; after only eight weeks. I know there is so much more to come.

 

Judy blew my mind the other day when she explained how in her earlier years, when she first became a nurse, she worked in the neonatal intensive care unit in a New York hospital. It was here that she fell in love with the vocation of ushering blossoming souls into this worldly life. She was a gift to the children and the parents whom she served for 15 years.

 

After Daniels writing career really began to take off,she took a break from nursing and traveled with him while he was promoting his books. Judy confided in me recently that she actually stopped neonatology because she and Daniel lost a child of their own during this time. It was too much for her to bear in an attempt to return working with the premature babies. It was far too close,and far to painful for her to continue.

 

Once she decided to return to work , she did some soul searching (and healing) and was reborn as a adult hospice nurse. Now she has fallen in love with the vocation of ushering blossoming souls faithfully on their course to the next realm of existence. I have never met anyone that has impressed me more than Judy. I believe she is the local shaman – she is a true psychopomp.

 

Having the afternoon off today,  I took the opportunity to row over to the “library”. I was due to return the copy of Moby Dick, and pick up a new gospel of unconscious truth. I was thinking maybe I catch up on some Jack London, but it soon appeared that Jacque Cousteau was more appropriate.

 

When I pulled up to the sailboat, I could see that Judy and Daniel were busy at something on the swim platform at the stern of the boat. As I approached, they appeared to be removing an injured sea turtle from the grips of a fishing lure that she had lodged in her left front fin.

 

Daniel pulled the turtle from the ocean and held it on the wet platform as Judy quickly and gracefully cut the barb from her flailing arm. Once Daniel placed the turtle back to her own devices in the drink, Judy yelled over to me… “Hey Mark, Do you think we could convince Peter and Andrew to get rid of intravenous access in all of our patients?”

 

I smiled and tied up for a while…