The Warrior Within
Own Your Power to Serve, Fight, Protect, and Heal
Book Edition Details
Summary
Within the pages of "The Warrior Within," a transformative force awaits, urging you to unleash the indomitable spirit buried within. This isn't just a guide; it's a manifesto for those ready to transcend the mundane and seize their destiny. It invites you to channel the essence of a warrior, fostering resilience, humility, and connection in both your personal and professional spheres. As you embark on this profound journey, you’ll find the courage to embrace your true calling and effect change that echoes beyond the individual. Dive into a narrative that stirs the soul and challenges the status quo, revealing the untapped potential that lies within us all.
Introduction
The crimson droplets fell into the dust as D.J. Vanas stood bent over, exhausted and bleeding from his chest. Around him, the sweet smoke of burning sage and cedar filled the air, while eagle bone whistles pierced the silence. He had just completed his final year of the Sun Dance ceremony, a four-day ritual of gratitude where participants dance from sunrise to sunset without food or water. On the third day, buffalo bone skewers had pierced his chest, connecting him to the Tree of Life at the ceremony's center. As he broke free from the sacred bonds, his spiritual leader grabbed his sage bracelet and whispered words that would shatter everything he thought he knew about being a warrior: "Remember, you're a warrior now." This moment transformed Vanas's understanding of what it truly means to embody the warrior spirit. Growing up, he had imagined warriors as invincible figures who never showed weakness, never needed help, and always had the right answers. But through ceremony, through conversations with elders, and through decades of working with service providers across the country, he discovered a profound truth: real warriors aren't bulletproof. They experience fear, doubt, and heartbreak, yet they persist because they understand that their role isn't about personal glory—it's about service to others. In our modern world, countless individuals dedicate their lives to serving others: healthcare workers, teachers, social workers, firefighters, and community leaders. Yet many struggle with burnout, feeling overwhelmed by the gap between their noble intentions and their ability to execute sustainably. This ancient wisdom offers a roadmap for transforming that struggle into strength, showing how the timeless principles of Indigenous warriors can empower today's servants to thrive while making a lasting impact on their communities.
From Ceremony to Crisis: Finding Your Warrior Spirit
When D.J. was twenty-eight and serving as an Air Force captain, his life looked successful from the outside. He was chief of minority enrollment at the U.S. Air Force Academy, leading a team of over a hundred people while simultaneously launching a speaking business. Determined to make a difference in the world, he would wake at four in the morning to work on his business for three hours before his military duties, then continue working until eleven at night. Weekends offered no respite—he was building something meaningful, something that would serve others. But success came at a devastating cost. The constant pressure, the overwhelming feeling of having too much on his plate, and the relentless pursuit of excellence began breaking him down. Headaches became constant companions. His stomach churned with stress. He consumed antacids like candy, telling himself he would "take care of himself later." That "later" arrived with brutal force when shingles erupted across his torso—a condition his doctor explained typically affected much older people or those under extreme stress. At twenty-eight, his body was screaming what his mind had refused to acknowledge: he was falling apart. The doctor's blunt question haunted him: "What are you doing to yourself?" In that moment, D.J. confronted a harsh truth that would reshape his understanding of service and strength. He had been operating under a dangerous myth—that dedication meant self-sacrifice, that serving others required ignoring his own needs. His intentions were pure, but his execution was destroying his ability to serve anyone effectively. This experience illuminated a fundamental principle that Indigenous warriors understood instinctively: we cannot be warriors when we are falling apart. True warrior spirit isn't about pushing through at any cost; it's about developing sustainable strength that allows us to serve others consistently over a lifetime. The most dangerous enemy of effective service isn't external obstacles—it's the internal belief that taking care of ourselves is somehow selfish or secondary to our mission.
Living Off the Land: Using What You Have Right Now
In April 1975, LeAnn Thieman found herself answering an unusual question: How do you smuggle $10,000 into Vietnam? Her solution was both practical and absurd—impersonate Dolly Parton by stuffing the money into an overstuffed bra. This young pediatric nurse had volunteered with Friends of Children of Viet Nam, initially planning to escort six Amerasian babies to safety in the United States. But when she arrived at the orphanage, the mission had exploded in scope: President Ford had authorized Operation Babylift, and she would now help rescue three hundred children. The day of the exodus was a sweltering 106 degrees, with bombs already striking the outskirts of Saigon. LeAnn and her team faced an immediate crisis—their city bus couldn't reach the orphanage at the end of a narrow dirt road. Without hesitation, they grabbed a Volkswagen van, removed the seats, and laid twenty-two babies on the floor "like cookies on a baking sheet." Once they reached the bus, they placed two or three babies per seat, with adults spread-eagled in the aisles using every limb to brace and stabilize the children during the journey. At the airport, new challenges emerged. How do you transport one hundred babies on a military cargo jet? The aircrew's creativity kicked in—they gathered cardboard boxes, placed two to three babies per box, and used long straps as giant seatbelts for twenty-two boxes at a time. Feeding time became an assembly line operation, with nine volunteers propping bottles on babies' shoulders, walking endless rows for burping and countless diaper changes. Saigon fell three weeks later, but all three hundred children had been safely delivered to loving families in America. This remarkable rescue operation exemplifies a truth that Indigenous peoples mastered over millennia: where there's a will, there's often a way, especially when we stop focusing on what we lack and start leveraging what we have. Native American tribes were masters at living off the land, transforming basic materials like rocks, sticks, and bones into elegant, effective tools. They used birchbark for housing and canoes, buffalo for everything from clothing to shelter, and adobe for sophisticated multi-level buildings that provided climate control without modern technology. The key wasn't having perfect resources—it was maximizing the potential of available materials through creativity, determination, and focused action.
Counting Coup on Fear: Facing the Impossible
Standing in the doorway of a De Havilland Twin Otter aircraft 4,800 feet above Colorado, D.J. felt his heart hammering against his chest. The sound of wind and roaring engines was deafening, but even louder was the voice in his head questioning every decision that had led him to this moment. He was about to complete his first solo freefall jump—no static line, no tandem instructor, just ten seconds of pure terror before deploying his parachute. As he looked down at the earth far below, fear crashed over him like a tsunami. The jumpmaster's command cut through his paralysis: "GO!" Out the door he went, immediately tumbling in the airstream. Sun, mountains, ground spun in a nauseating cycle as panic threatened to overwhelm him. But then training kicked in. "Remember the training!" he screamed inside his head. In one fluid motion, he arched his body, stabilized his position, went through his sequence, and pulled the ripcord. The parachute deployed with a shock that left him seeing stars, but he was floating safely toward earth, screaming with joy despite landing in a tree outside the designated zone. This experience taught him a profound lesson about courage—it isn't the absence of fear, but action taken in spite of it. The intensive training hadn't eliminated his terror; it had given him tools to function despite it. Plains tribes understood this principle intimately through their tradition of "counting coup"—touching an enemy with a decorated staff during battle rather than killing them. This act required warriors to face their opponents directly, essentially saying "I'm not afraid of you." It was considered more honorable than death from a distance because it demanded confronting fear face-to-face. Modern warriors must practice the same courage daily, not by jumping from planes or facing physical combat, but by tackling difficult conversations, taking first steps on intimidating projects, admitting mistakes, or asking for help when struggling. Each small victory builds confidence for larger challenges. The path to courage isn't mysterious—it requires consistent practice facing whatever scares us, proving repeatedly that our fears are often larger in our imagination than in reality. When we count coup on fear by confronting it directly, we usually discover we're stronger and more capable than we believed.
Keeping the Fires Lit: Sustaining Strength Through Adversity
In Native American cultures, firekeepers held one of the most sacred responsibilities in the community. Fire was the beating heart of village life—providing warmth, light, cooked food, and serving as the gathering place where bonds were strengthened through shared stories. Most critically, fire was essential for ceremonies, and if it died, the entire ritual could be ruined. A firekeeper's duty was maintaining that flame through every condition: driving rain, fierce winds, bitter cold, or scorching heat. This role mirrors the internal fire that burns within every person dedicated to serving others. Our warrior spirit is the energy that fuels our drive, willingness to learn, and commitment to excellence. Like village fires, this internal flame requires constant, intentional tending, or it will burn down to an ember or die completely. Too many dedicated servants experience this tragic decline—starting with bright, burning passion for their work, only to watch it fade into routine, then into a rut, and finally into apathy. Karen, a tribal employee and trainer, learned this lesson the hard way when she collapsed mid-presentation, unable to form words or thoughts. She had been juggling work stress, family demands, board responsibilities, and grief over losing her sister. Despite warning signs, she kept pushing herself, dismissing symptoms as "no big deal." When she experienced her first ministroke, she tried to continue the training the next day, unable to deliver the quality service she prided herself on providing. A second ministroke landed her in the emergency room, where the terrifying reality hit: if she didn't change her approach to self-care, she might not survive to serve anyone. The misconception that warriors are bulletproof—needing no rest, support, or care—creates dangerous martyrs rather than sustainable servants. True warriors understand that caring for themselves first isn't selfish; it's the foundation that enables them to care for others effectively. Just as flight attendants instruct passengers to put on their own oxygen masks before helping others, we cannot serve from a depleted state. The strongest warriors maintain their fire through intentional practices: consuming inspiring rather than draining information, establishing daily habits that restore their energy, seeking support from their community, and never forgetting that their work has meaning beyond their job description.
Summary
The ancient path of the Indigenous warrior offers profound guidance for modern servants struggling to balance noble intentions with sustainable execution. Through ceremony and struggle, through triumph and failure, these timeless principles reveal that true strength comes not from invulnerability, but from the courage to be fully human while serving something greater than ourselves. The warrior within isn't bulletproof—they experience fear, doubt, and exhaustion just like everyone else. But they possess something more valuable than invincibility: the wisdom to tend their own fire so they can light the way for others. The most transformative insight from this journey is that we already possess everything we need to serve powerfully and sustainably. Like Indigenous peoples who crafted elegant solutions from simple materials, we can leverage our time, energy, and unique gifts to create extraordinary impact. The key lies not in having perfect resources or eliminating all challenges, but in approaching our service with the strategic wisdom of ancient warriors: facing our fears directly, living off the land of our current circumstances, and maintaining the internal fire that fuels our mission. This warrior path demands that we reject the false choice between serving others and caring for ourselves. Instead, it calls us to recognize that our well-being and our service are inseparably linked—when we thrive, our communities thrive. By embracing these ancient principles, we transform from exhausted martyrs into sustainable warriors, capable of serving with distinction not just for months or years, but for a lifetime. The world desperately needs such warriors, and the wisdom to become one has been waiting within you all along.
Related Books
Download PDF & EPUB
To save this Black List summary for later, download the free PDF and EPUB. You can print it out, or read offline at your convenience.
By D.J. Vanas
