Spiritual defence was on my mind this morning…something awoke me to feel a need to witness a triumph of epic proportions that I would soon not forget.

I have pondered long philosophies of energy, thought about how to shield myself from harm in the softest of ways, yet through this need for safety I hath forgotten what it means to be strong.

By means of evasion one can outrun anything, but what if the offensive also has mirth?

I needed to see for myself. I gathered some strength for a wish and meandered along the corridors for hours…and eventually I found it.

The iron door, glistening and crackling with yellow white electricity. This was the one I would step through. This experience would prove to me that pacifism is a way of life but.. optional.

As I stepped through I found my body being transformed into that of a hawk. One that scouts out evil and delivers messages to angels.

It was in the eyes of mine that sent the impulses – each and every one as I let the holy folk know where our enemies were in this battle against demons of grotesque appearance.

The army of the winged legion heralded in the sky and as embers flew from black catapults on the ground, the ravenous scourge charged in the direction of armoured soldiers that were afoot in formation, defending the light.

As darkened gargoyles attacked they were pierced with lances and they burned to ashes.

Bloodshed on the sides of the darkness would see every threat exterminated. Honored generals had golden armour and shields with symbols on them that only mystics could descipher.

Swords crashing into flesh, while giant beasts tore to shreds casualties that were ambushed or out of position.

It was a brutal sight to behold, yet completion was in sight and this battle was nearly over.

Clever manouvering had the lighting tipped lances of the angels strike stray packs of the voracious enemies in their tracks, as to avoid notion of their defeat travelling informationally to allies of the dark.

A true victory is whole and leaves no more room for confusion or error.

It was over.

In a propelled thrust the door expelled me into my eerie sanctum and I had just learned that I have lived as a beggar for knowledge.

Has my quest lead me to get the guts to ascend to such hights one day? To fight for legions of light – not as a mere consoler of the wounded, but as a healer in battle, or one of those with wings?

In the coming time I spent hours debating in my soul as to what dangers I would face in such times.

At a whim I could summon any strength – but to live the devoted life of a soldier? Is that my way? A healer?

Ego had me combine the two – a mage. A battle mage, armed with spiritual shields at a moments notice, healing at my disposal and mighty spells that guard and destroy my foes.

These thoughts put me in a good mood.

To actually live such lives. Devotedly, instead of in pass time. I knew that when it counted I produce, but would I be able to produce reliably? Would I make this a way of life?

Can I combine wisdom with ability?

These questions would keep me pondering for quite some time….