The Warrior’s Rest: A Sleep Meditation Story For Veterans

Welcome,

Warrior.

Not warrior in a sense of battles fought,

But warrior in a sense of scars carried.

You have walked with weight strapped across your shoulders,

The kind most people never see,

Never imagine.

The kind that lingers even when the uniform is folded,

Even when the boots are boxed,

Even when the world says,

You're home now.

But you know the truth,

Some battles follow you.

And tonight,

You don't have to fight them,

Tonight you lay it all down.

Feel the bed beneath you,

It is no longer a cot,

No longer hard ground.

This is your earth now,

Solid,

Steady,

Holding you.

Take a slow breath in,

Exhale and feel the burden slip.

Scan your body,

Head to toe,

Notice your forehead,

Relax it,

Jaw unclenched,

Shoulders soften like gear finally set down.

Move down through your arms,

Through the hands that once gripped rifles,

That once held brothers,

That once trembled with exhaustion.

Now they rest open,

Empty,

Free.

Feel your chest,

This heart has beaten through chaos,

To adrenaline,

To grief.

Tonight it beats only for rests,

Hips,

Legs,

Feet.

They have marched,

Run,

Crawled,

Carried.

Not a fire of war,

Not destruction.

But a campfire safe,

Contained,

Alive.

Hear its crackle,

Feel its warmth on your skin.

It does not burn you,

It keeps watch for you.

Around this fire,

The brothers and sisters you lost are present in spirit.

And as ghosts to haunt you,

But as companions to remind you,

You are never alone.

And it's not just those who fell in battle,

It's the friend who drank too much,

Who wrapped his car around a tree.

It's the buddy who couldn't take the weight anymore,

Who pulled the trigger alone in his room.

It's the sister who overdosed,

The one you thought would pull through.

It's the silence at the funerals,

The flags folded too many times.

It's the ache of missing the life you once knew,

The structure,

The bond,

The fire in your chest.

And it's the loneliness that follows when the world moves on like nothing happened.

All of it sits here by the fire.

The fallen,

The broken,

The ones still fighting their own wars at home.

If tears come,

Let them.

If memories rise,

Acknowledge them gently.

Like saluting a soldier you pass in the street.

Respect and release.

And if the mind says you should have done more,

You should have been stronger,

Let the fire answer for you.

The crickets sing.

The fire burns.

The fire watches.

The watch is over.

There is nothing left to carry.

Let the warmth of the fire,

The weight of the earth,

And the breath of your own chest become your only companions tonight.

Sleep if you can.

Drift if you must.

Or simply rest in this silence.

Whether waking or dreaming,

Know this truth.

You have already returned home.