From the moment of birth, we are expelled from our safety in the warm nourishing darkness, and thrown into the waiting arms of nurturing chaos.

This is where the illusions of safe space are shattered, through the violent contentment of our soft skulls being crushed by the birth canal.

We come to understand in this struggle what the world outside is going to be like. So hard is this reality to accept that we repress the memory of it and create a version of the world in which we feel most in control.

But it’s a lie. We are not in control. We are but one in a world of all – of all types, perceptions and intentions.

With such differences abound, very soon we fight our first battle – being told ‘no’. It crushes us. But we accept defeat because we must. We are too small and inexperienced.

Then we face the battle of finding our place in the social hierarchy – and many such battles end in defeat, even bloodshed.

Then we face the battles of love, friendship and family – where we win and lose pieces of ourselves and fellow comrades in arms with each successive and relentless skirmish.

After many battles, we soon realize that our greatest purpose in life is to become a soldier – to fight the war of life itself in defence of ourselves and those we love (in that order).

As soldiers, we will inevitably be blessed by wounds that tell the story of our will and tenacity to fight for what is ours – this is the way of things – the way of the strong.

But what of a soldier who has no wounds and fears to enter battle?

They have no claims to victory, nor defeat, because a soldier who will not fight cannot call themselves a soldier as they fight neither for themselves nor those they love. They are too weak to face the horrors of this great war.

And for this, when the war demands all hands to battle, those who have always run from it will be the first to die.

Life is war, and war demands a warrior.