Manual of the Warrior of Light

The Manual of the Warrior of Light Coelho, Paulo

The disciple is not above his master; but every one that is perfect shall be as his
master. Luke 6: 40

Prologue

'Just off the beach to the west of the village lies an island, and on it is a vast temple
with many bells,' said the woman.

The boy noticed that she was dressed strangely and had a veil covering her head. He had
never seen her before.

'Have you ever visited that temple?' she asked. 'Go there and tell me what you think of
it?'

Seduced by the woman's beauty, the boy went to the place she had indicated. He sat down on
the beach and stared out at the horizon, but he saw only what he always saw: blue sky and
ocean.

Disappointed, he walked to a nearby fishing village and asked if anyone there knew about
an island and a temple.

'Oh, that was many years ago, when my great-grandparents were alive,' said an old
fisherman. 'There was an earthquake, and the island was swallowed up by the sea. But
although we can no longer see the island, we can still hear the temple bells when the
ocean sets them swinging down below.'

The boy went back to the beach and tried to hear the bells. He spent the whole afternoon
there, but all he heard was the noise of the waves and the cries of the seagulls.

When night fell, his parents came looking for him. The following morning, he went back to
the beach; he could not believe that such a beautiful woman would have lied to him. If she
ever returned, he could tell her that, although he

had not seen the island, he had heard the temple bells set ringing by the motion of the
waves.

Many months passed; the woman did not return and the boy forgot all about her; now he was
convinced that he needed to discover the riches and treasures in the submerged temple. If
he could hear the bells, he would be able to locate it and salvage the treasure hidden
below.

He lost interest in school and even in his friends. He became the butt of all the other
children's jokes. They used to say: 'He's not like us. He prefers to sit looking at the
sea because he's afraid of being beaten in our games.'

And they all laughed to see the boy sitting on the shore.

Although he still could not hear the old temple bells ringing, the boy nevertheless
learned about other things. He began to realise that he had grown so used to the sound of
the waves that he was no longer distracted by them. Soon after that, he became used to the
cries of the seagulls, the buzzing of the bees and the wind blowing amongst the palm trees.

Six months after his first conversation with the woman, the boy could sit there oblivious
to all other noises, but he still could not hear the bells from the drowned temple.

Fishermen came and talked to him, insisting that they had heard the bells. But the boy
never did. Some time later, however, the fishermen changed their tune: 'You spend far

too much time thinking about the bells beneath the sea. Forget about them and

go back to playing with your friends. Perhaps it's only fishermen who can hear them.'

After almost a year, the boy thought: 'Perhaps they're right. I would do better to grow up
and become a fisherman and come down to this beach every morning, because I've come to
love it here.' And he thought too: 'Perhaps it's just another legend and the bells were
all shattered during the earthquake and have never rung out since.'

That afternoon, he decided to go back home.

He walked down to the ocean to say goodbye. He looked once more at the natural world
around him and because he was no longer concerned about the bells, he could again smile at
the beauty of the seagulls' cries, the roar of the sea and the wind blowing in the palm
trees. Far off, he heard the sound of his friends playing and he felt glad to think that
he would soon resume his childhood games.

The boy was happy and - as only a child can - he felt grateful for being alive. He was
sure that he had not wasted his time, for he had learned to contemplate Nature and to
respect it.

Then, because he was listening to the sea, the seagulls, the wind in the palm trees and
the voices of his friends playing, he also heard the first bell.

And then another.

And another, until, to his great joy, all the bells in the drowned temple were ringing.

Years later, when he was a grown man, he returned to the village and to the beach of his
childhood. He no longer dreamed of finding treasure at the bottom of the sea; perhaps that
had all been a mere product of his imagination, and he had never in fact heard the
submerged bells ring out on one lost childhood afternoon. Even so, he decided to walk for
a while along the beach, to listen to the noise of the wind and to the cries of the
seagulls.

Imagine his surprise when, there on the beach, he saw the woman who had first spoken to
him about the island and its temple.

'What are you doing here?' he asked. 'I was waiting for you,' she replied. He noticed
that, despite the passing years, the woman looked exactly the

same; the veil hiding her hair had not faded with time. She handed him a blue notebook
full of blank pages. 'Write: a warrior of light values a child's eyes because they are
able to look

at the world without bitterness. When he wants to find out if the person beside him is
worthy of his trust, he tries to see him as a child would.'

'What is a warrior of light?'

'You already know that,' she replied with a smile. 'He is someone capable of understanding
the miracle of life, of fighting to the last for something he believes in - and of hearing
the bells that the waves sets ringing on the seabed.'

He had never thought of himself as a warrior of light. The woman seemed to read his
thoughts. 'Everyone is capable of these things. And though no one thinks of themselves as
a warrior of light, we all are.'

He looked at the blank pages in the notebook. The woman smiled again. 'Write about that
warrior,' she said.

The Manual of the Warrior of Light

A warrior of light knows that he has much to be grateful for.

He was helped in his struggle by the angels; celestial forces placed each thing in its
place, thus allowing him to give of his best.

His companions say: 'He's so lucky!' And the warrior does sometimes achieve things far
beyond his capabilities.

That is why, at sunset, he kneels and gives thanks for the Protective Cloak surrounding
him.

His gratitude, however, is not limited to the spiritual world; he never forgets his
friends, for their blood mingled with his on the battlefield.

A warrior does not need to be reminded of the help given him by others; he is the first to
remember and makes sure to share with them any rewards he receives.

All the world's roads lead to the heart of the warrior; he plunges unhesitatingly into the
river of passions always flowing through his life.

The warrior knows that he is free to choose his desires, and he makes these decisions with
courage, detachment and - sometimes - with just a touch of madness.

He embraces his passions and enjoys them intensely. He knows that there is no need to
renounce the pleasures of conquest; they are part of life and bring joy to all those who
participate in them.

But he never loses sight of those things that last or of the strong bonds that are forged
over time.

A warrior can distinguish between the transient and the enduring.

A warrior of light does not rely on strength alone, he makes use of his opponent's energy
too.

When he enters the fight, all he has is his enthusiasm and the moves and strikes that he
learned during his training. As the fight progresses, he discovers that enthusiasm and
training are not enough to win: what counts is experience.

Then he opens his heart to the Universe and asks God to give him the inspiration he needs
to turn every blow from his enemy into a lesson in self- defence.

His companions say: 'He's so superstitious. He stopped fighting in order to pray; he even
shows respect for his opponent's tricks.'

The warrior does not respond to these provocations. He knows that without inspiration and
experience, no amount of training will help him.

A warrior of light never resorts to trickery, but he knows how to distract his opponent.

However anxious he is, he uses every strategy at his disposal to gain his objective. When
he sees that his strength is almost gone, he makes his enemy think that he is simply
biding his time. When he needs to attack the right flank, he moves his troops to the left.
If he intends beginning the battle at once, he pretends instead that he is tired and
prepares for sleep.

His friends say: 'Look, he's lost all enthusiasm.' But he pays no attention to such
remarks because his friends do not understand his tactics.

A warrior of light knows what he wants. And he has no need to waste time on explanations.

A wise Chinese has this to say about the strategies of the warrior of light:

'Convince your enemy that he will gain very little by attacking you; this will diminish
his enthusiasm.'

'Do not be ashamed to make a temporary withdrawal from the field if you see that your
enemy is stronger than you; it is not winning or losing a single battle that matters, but
how the war ends.'

'Even if you are very strong, never be ashamed to feign weakness; this will make your
enemy act imprudently and attack too soon.'

'In war, the key to victory is the ability to surprise one's opponent.'

'It's odd,' says the warrior of light to himself. 'I have met so many people who, at the
first opportunity, try to show their very worst qualities. They hide their inner strength
behind aggression; they hide their fear of loneliness behind an air of independence. They
do not believe in their own abilities, but are constantly trumpeting their virtues.'

The warrior reads these messages in many of the men and women he meets. He is never taken
in by appearances and makes a point of remaining silent when people try to impress him.
And he uses the occasion to correct his own faults, for other people make an excellent
mirror.

A warrior takes every opportunity to teach himself.

The warrior of light sometimes fights with those he loves.

The man who defends his friends is never overwhelmed by the storms of life; he is strong
enough to come through difficulties and to carry on.

However, he is often faced by challenges from those to whom he is trying to teach the art
of the sword. His disciples provoke him into fighting with them.

And the warrior demonstrates his abilities: with just a few blows he disarms his students,
and harmony returns to the place where they meet.

'Why bother to do that, when you are so much better than they are?' asks a traveller.

'Because in challenging me, what they really want is to talk to me and this is my way of
keeping dialogue open,' replies the warrior.

Before embarking on an important battle, a warrior of light asks himself: 'How far have I
developed my abilities?'

He knows that he has learned something with every battle he has fought, but many of those
lessons have caused him unnecessary suffering. More than once he has wasted his time
fighting for a lie. And he has suffered for people who did not deserve his love.

Victors never make the same mistake twice. That is why the warrior only risks his heart
for something worthwhile.

A warrior of light respects the main teaching of the
I Ching
: 'To persevere is favourable.'

He knows that perseverance is not the same thing as insistence. There are times when
battles go on longer than necessary, draining him of strength and enthusiasm.

At such moments, the warrior thinks: 'A prolonged war finally destroys the victors too.'

Then he withdraws his forces from the battlefield and allows himself a respite. He
perseveres in his desire, but knows he must wait for the best moment to attack.

A warrior always returns to the fray. He never does so out of stubbornness, but because he
has noticed a change in the weather.

A warrior of light knows that certain moments repeat themselves.

He often finds himself faced by the same problems and situations, and seeing these
difficult situations return, he grows depressed, thinking that he is incapable of making
any progress in life.

'I've been through all this before,' he says to his heart.

'Yes, you have been through all this before,' replies his heart. 'But you have never been
beyond it.'

Then the warrior realises that these repeated experiences have but one aim: to teach him
what he does not want to learn.

A warrior of light is never predictable.

He might dance down the street on his way to work, gaze into the eyes of a complete
stranger and speak of love at first sight, or else defend an apparently absurd idea.
Warriors of light allow themselves days like these.

He is not afraid to weep over ancient sorrows or to feel joy at new discoveries. When he
feels that the moment has arrived, he drops everything and goes off on some
long-dreamed-of adventure. When he realises that he can do no more, he abandons the fight,
but never blames himself for having committed a few unexpected acts of folly.

A warrior does not spend his days trying to play the role that others have chosen for him.

Warriors of light always keep a certain gleam in their eyes.

They are of this world, they are part of the lives of other people and they set out on
their journey with no saddlebags and no sandals. They are often cowardly. They do not
always make the right decisions.

They suffer over the most trivial things, they have mean thoughts and sometimes believe
they are incapable of growing. They frequently deem themselves unworthy of any blessing or
miracle.

They are not always quite sure what they are doing here. They spend many sleepless nights,
believing that their lives have no meaning.