The Way of the Paladin
"To Seek, To Learn, To Do"

First Sharings

Here are a few of the fine works by other Seekers at our fine Paladin School. I wish I had room to post them all! These were posted from November 2003 until April 2004.

Good evening, good faculty of the Paladin School! My name is Karen, though I go by KarmaDancer on the list. I am thrilled to be a part of this learning process, and sincerely look forward to growing further and moving forward as time and studies progress.

You had stated that my first mission was to "fix something." I wondered about this, and prayed about what I could do to complete this mission in the true spirit of a paladin. What task could I complete that was worthy of this way of life? I may have come up with something and I write to you now for your approval (or not!).

I work with a man who has just been "called down" by his doctor because he's seriously overweight and it's affecting his health. His blood pressure is sky-high, he's well over 150# overweight, his joints are giving out, and he's getting in worse and worse shape as time goes by. Well, he's now trying to drop some of that weight and it's tough because it means he has to re-evaluate his relationship with food and change his lifestyle accordingly.

I've been down that road before. I was way overweight -- read, about 250# on a 5'4" frame -- when I started to lose weight three years ago. At that time, it took me about a year and a half or so but I dropped 100#. It was not an overnight process, and for me, I had joined OA to help me with my programme. But since I started working where I am now, I became complacent and all that I had learned went out the window. Times have not been easy for me lately, and I once again had turned to food for comfort. Since food is not serenity, you can imagine what happened; I've gained 30# since starting work there almost a year ago and I'm not happy with the results.

I'd been talking the talk but not walking the walk very well lately and Bruce called me out on it today. He knew I'd had two doughnuts for breakfast and was watching me down a bag of popcorn for lunch, and we all know that's not exactly leading into a balanced diet. But his criticism made me think about what I had been doing lately, and I resolved to reform my habits and get "with the program" so to speak. So I went home this evening and prepared a delicious chicken salad for supper that was within the limits of my food plan and wrote him a note thanking him for getting me to do something about getting back on track. I shared some of my experience, strength and hope with him (as well as the recipe for the salad) and hopefully we'll be "study buddies" on our own roads to better health. I really want to see Bruce succeed with his plans, not for myself but because I know it made me much happier about myself when I did it and I want him to experience the same happiness during the challenge. I know I can't change him, and I don't want to; I can only change myself but sometimes the support through honesty of a good friend is exactly what the doctor ordered.

So what did I do that might qualify as "fixing something?" I helped a man who's having a tough time reforming a habit that if it continues, may kill him, and shared what experience, strength and hope I may have to offer to someone else. I was honest about making amends for being intellectually dishonest about my own eating habits as well, and apologized for being such a grunt. I also made the offer of support to him, though whether he decides to take it or not is entirely up to him. As usual, my HP of my understanding will decide the when and the where ;) and He has an extraordinarily juvenile sense of humor, lol!

My friend Karyn, for as long as I've known her, was never exactly the most happy person of the bunch. Sure, she would act happy, but then sometimes she would get really depressed.

Unfortunately for all her friends, Karyn is a cutter, and bi-polar as well. Over the years, it's turned out that I'm the only person that can really get her to stop cutting, even for a few weeks. So every time she gets depressed enough to cut, she comes to me, and I talk to her and help her feel better, make her realize why she doesn't need to cut.

For all I know, I may've saved her life a few times. But she always knows she can come to me if she needs help. And every time she comes to me, I always help her. It may not be much, but to her, it's the world and more. That's the biggest thing I've ever fixed.

One Saturday morning I discovered that someone I knew was feeling rather blue. She was not a close friend, but was an acquaintance. I knew that she tended to miss social gatherings on account of school work, and that not as many people were friends with her because she could not join us much of the time. I went to a friend’s room and coerced her into joining me on my quest to show that people cared, and the two of us paid a call to the sad one.

Our course of conversation wound its way around movies to childhood memories to visiting overseas, all around the place. Not a bit of it was glum, and by the end of an hour or so, our acquaintance was quite cheery. Upon leaving, I let her know that even though we were near strangers, I would always be willing to be a comfort if she were gloomy. She was very pleased that we had shown our caring by seeking her out, and we’d made a better friend.

Fix Something

I have thought long and hard about this first assignment...perhaps too long and hard. Afterall, how hard can it be to fix something? Personally I've found it quite a challenge...so much so, that I'm not completely convinced that I've done it. Talking to a fellow paladin about my predicament, however, I was urged to tell you my story and let you be the judge.

When I saw my task was to fix something, I was determined for it to be something that I would not normally do, for you see, I fix things almost every day. I'm a paramedic by trade, so it's my job to fix "things" and most often, to fix people or situations that they or someone else has gotten them into. I've had to help to fix cuts and broken bones, stuffy noses and headaches, stopped hearts and shattered families whose loved ones I couldn't fix. Even small things like providing an extra warm blanket from the heater, a pillow, or a hand to hold are not things that I consider going above the norm. Each of those small things is as much a part of my job as administering medicines and treating injuries...sometimes, those things are more important. My patients rarely care that I've given them a shot, even if it's a medicine that helps, or bandaged a wound...what they remember is a smile, a joke, or helping them to readjust on the stretcher because I noticed they were uncomfortable.

I searched very hard for something away from work to fix. My best friend has gone through extremely trying times in the past year. Her grandmother and her father passed away over the last year. I've listened to her and been with her through tears and silence, anger and sorrow. There's not much more you can do. After all, you can't fix a broken heart...merely wait for it to mend with a scar. But again, she's my best friend. That's something I would do whether I was seeking to fix something or not.

I wanted to try to reach out and do something that I wouldn't consider a part of a job or part of a friendship, but in the end and after a month of searching, I find myself with this story: I recently took a long planned trip for two weeks to Australia. While going through the airport, there was a girl rushing along the breezeway, no doubt trying to catch a flight. The shoulder strap of her bag broke midstep. I watched her struggle to fix it without success, so I stopped and helped her thread the strap back properly so she could go on her way. She smiled and hurried along so that she wouldn't be late. Not something earth-moving, I suppose, but she did seem grateful.

I look forward to more assignments and more chances to learn how to be a hero.

I take this course as a means of self-improvement, as well as improving the world, and I'm still sort of emotionally attached to what I'm talking about. I might ramble a bit in an attempt to figure things out for myself. Apologies in advance. :)

In the past few days since being named a Paladin, I've been trying to consider what I could fix. I'm no mechanic, and rare is the opportunity for me to try and be one, so I knew it would have to be through a more spiritual kind of service.

I've helped out before, with city planning in a youth summit two years ago, and currently I'm sending in letters and petitions to help change certain policies in this country that I disagree with. But everything I've done feels either too long ago or not concrete enough, too big and abstract with only the smallest piece of it stemming from me.

I'd been rather impatient, I'm sorry to say, in looking to find something to do to complete my first quest and move onward as a Paladin. I've been trying to work with my own life right now, to overcome procrastination and learn discipline on my way to becoming a better, happier, more successful and beneficial person...fix my own life, so to speak. So until last night, I'd wondered if I could even find a way to give of myself when part of my focus needed to be *on* myself for a while.

But last night one of my best friends reached out to me - an Internet friend, but I consider those no less important. She's been going through a rough time for years, trying to change a very angry and bitter part of herself while getting rid of a lot of mistrust, fear, and depression. But she says the worst part of it was when her problems were beginning. She's in college now, but when everything started she was in the tail end of high school. And her friends then were far from supportive - they became scared of her pain, when major losses happened to her, and they wound up leaving her behind.
Since then, she's been scared to open up to and trust people, frightened they'd leave her again.

I spent hours last night talking to her, giving her support, advice, and a listening ear, assuring her that I'd miss her if she just up and left all of her friends and started life over to 'protect' us from her angry and bitter side - that she's done it before and it solved nothing, and that she'd be entering a viscious cycle all over again. I know I'm not the only person giving her help and support, that I'm not even the biggest influence. Her life isn't 'fixed', because entire lives never are...pain helps us grow. But even if I'm one soul out of many, and it's going to take a long time, I'm determined to be a real friend to her, help and support her in whatever way she needs. I want her to trust people again, and to feel okay with herself, her own dark side and pain. And even though this kind of fixing, too, is long-standing and not concrete, I think it's the absolute best kind of service that Paladins, and all people, can do. I'm not sure you accept it, though I hope you do, but it's finally something I can be proud of submitting to you.

Sunday's Hero is set to save the Earth.
Monday's Hero is bound to prove her worth.
Tuesday's Hero is still standing tall.
Wednesday's Hero is unwilling to fall.
Thursday's Hero is white lipped and grim.
Friday's Hero is surely done in,
But Saturday's Hero is hopeful and quiet and sure.

Once I was a hero,
Who traveled distant lands,
From Spielburg to Tarna,
Shapeir and back again.
My Quest was all for Glory,
To help where I could help,
To drive away the Darkness,
And welcome in the Light.

Once I was a warrior,
Who fought with sword and shield.
From Jackalmen to Hydras,
Ghouls and Cheetaurs too.
My sword was always ready,
To fight the next great fight,
To battle! Was my motto
And victory my plan.

Once I was a wizard,
A master of my craft.
From spells of frost and fire,
To ones that made me fly.
Knowledge was my Master
Arcana was my game,
I fought with spells of combat
And saved the world again.

Once I was a thief,
Devious to the core.
A cunning and stealthy rogue,
Waging silent war.
My enemies never heard me,
Or suspected I was there.
I fought against the darkness,
With guile and subtlety.

Once I was a Paladin,
A brave and noble soul.
I fought against corruption
And evils yet untold.
I sought to bring Justice,
To lands where there was none.
Honour was my weapon,
And Goodness my reward.

And then, as I grew older,
My adventures became fewer,
And eventually I noticed,
They’d dwindled to a halt.
I thought that this was normal,
And resigned myself to my fate,
To be a Former Hero,
And watch others take my place.

And so I put away my sword,
And shut my old spell book.
My tools of trades for thieves,
Were hidden somewhere safe.
I thought my job was over,
Adventuring days were done,
But then I found this Hero’s School
And found that I was wrong.

There are always people out there,
Who need a hero’s help.
Even in the Real World,
We need a guiding hand.
And so that’s why we come here,
To help each other out.
And to urge this message:
A Hero’s task is never done.

The story of me is one that winds and twits all over the place. The most obvious place to start would be my philosophical beliefs and what shaped them. A paladin is traditionally a defender of the faith, so is a zealot. The difference between me and a zealot is that I have no religion. I have philosophies that guide me, but I don't follow anyone's lead.

I was baptized catholic, didn't really have a choice in the matter. After that my parents joined the Unitarian Fellowship. There were lots of nice people there, but their focus was on being accepted. The followers of the Unitarian Church are mostly the outcast minority. Unfortunately I did not belong there; but I walked away with a staunch since of humanitarianism which has been a moral compass for me.

My most formative years were when I was in high school. I attended an all male catholic school. I was an outcast because hey, I was minority there. They demonstrated an uncommon lack of compassion for those that were different. I was damned to hell more than I can count. It never became a physical harassment, but it was enough to make me take a long hard look at Christian religions in general. I found I could not be a part of any religion that treated salvation as a club. If you were saved then it is all good, if not you are out. I renounced religion all together after that. I started on my own path to self enlightenment. I studied the philosophies of Chivalry, Bushido, Zen, Buddhism, Islam and a few pagan religions such as druidism and Native American religion.

Then I found in my local paper an article that would change my path. It was a group of people that followed tenants that I held to myself on my own. There were 21 maxims that I have been following for a long time now. Guide lines such as Prowess, Justice, Courage, Humility, Integrity, Meditation and Morality just to name a few. As you can probably tell, these things are in my opinion essential to the path of a paladin. This is a relatively new religion that is mostly a conglomeration of religions that are already in existence. I have quickly grown in my responsibilities there and have been hold a few important ranks in the system; though in my training I have found that rank is meaningless. The philosophies have taken away with me are essential to my life, and have become a part of who I am and who I will become.

I received my Eagle Scout award at age 18. As you probably know boy scouting is a service driven organization. Because of this I have had a great desire to help my fellow man. I am naturally drawn to join groups that help others. I am the Vice President of my college honor society, which is pretty amazing to me because I am Dyslexic and never did that well in school.

Recently I have found the best way I can to serve my community. I am going to be a teacher. I know what> you may be thinking, "A dyslexic teaching children?" and you would be right, I have a hard time with papers and writing in general. But I have been given a gift, I may not be able to right, but I can paint and do art. It would be wrong of me not to share my gift with everyone. So I will be teaching art, the universal language.

Being an artist is a way of life and a philosophy on its own. It is seeing the world as it is, then to produce how the world affects me. It is a very grounding ideal. To see how much suffering and reality there is in the world. Unfortunealy I am misguided enough to think I can change that. This is why I want to teach. I feel that if I can get others to see the world as it really is, then they can help to change it. I want to make a difference in the life of my students. Even if I only reach one student in my teaching career, it was all worth it. I want to help pass on my love of service and ideals to the next generation. One day enough people will get the message to help people and the world will change. I will never see this, but I know deep down that every river started with just a few drops of rain.

When I lived back home during high school, there was a very old lady that owned the house across the street. We didn't really do a lot with her or her family. Sometimes me and my brothers didn't really even know who was living there at the moment. You see, she adopted something like fifteen children in her long life, and there was always some family or another staying with her, so that a fellow got confused trying to remember who was there on any given day. This old lady was handicapped something fierce. She had viscious bronchitis and some nervous system disfunction that I never really found out much about. She moved about in a wheel chair using her chin and a joystick. Her name was Grace.

Well, one day, I was home alone after school. We got a phone call, and I answered. I said hello several times, and all I heard was some wet gargling noises. I managed to make out that someone was saying my mother's name. I said that she wasn't in and asked if I could take a message. All I heard after that was a horrible cough and the words 'need help.' I have to admit that I hung up the phone then, and didn't move for a minute. I was fifteen years old, and I figured out by then that something was wrong with Grace. I considered doing nothing and denying we ever got a call if it came to that. I wasn't a very considerate young man. But for some reason I got up, and with my heart in my throat, I ran across the street to their house.

The door was open, and I walked in. I had never bee inside before, and had no idea where to go. The second hallway I walked into had an open door at the end. I could see the wheelchair. Again, I wanted to turn and run, but for some reason could not. The phone was off the hook, Grace was sitting near a large machine with an incomprehensible number of buttons on it. A hose was attached to the machine. Grace managed to say "my neck" and "square button." I can't recreate the flood of confusion and fear that went through me as I fumbled around on the machine, looking for a button, afraid to push the wrong one. Even less can I try to tell anyone what it was like to realize that the hose was a suction pump for clearing her throat and lungs of phlegm, and it had fallen out of an artificial hole in her neck. I was to hold it in place while the machine did its work. Three times, my hand shook so badly I dropped the hose out of the hole, and had to replace it.

Some time after, Grace's nurse showed up, responding to the emergency button Grace had hit before calling my house. Grace thanked me before I left. She said I saved her, I said nothing. She died a year later. I went to her funeral. I still remember her, and what she got me to do. I wouldn't be a good man if it weren't for that day, hell, I was probably well on my way to being a pretty evil one. So, I fixed something once, a broken tube. I also spent the next couple years fixing myself. Honestly, it doesn't really change things if this isn't a good submission. A man doesn't need to be a paladin to do good, and that's all I'm really in it for anyways. Thank you though, for the opportunity to remember my story.

 

The Road of the Paladin

by Jardar Nygård

Where darkness falls
in a land of strife
where despair out calls
to fetch your knife
where greed enthralls
men more than life

Where hope seems lost
and strength have failed
compassion tossed
into the gale
to where he's needed most
the paladin sets sail

His heart has led him
hither to come
maybe by gods whim
destiny! say some

But paladin said
how here he was led

by will alone
by his hearts desire
for Good

To lift the darkness
to end the strife
bring hope to the hopeless
renew faith in life

To strengthen the weak
to spread compassion
this he will seek -
not for glory
not for gain
a paladin does good
for it is his Will
(and because he couldn't have made a career as a poet)

by Tortuga

I know the tales of heroes brave,
With lives to give, and hope to save.

Yet I’ve also met those meek and mild,
Many not more than a child.

“What’s a hero?” I ask one day,
“One with power” other’s say.

I set upon a quest to know,
From what place the powers grow.

I met a man with brilliant mind,
His manner cruel and voice unkind.

He spoke of having many brains,
I saw him carry monstrous chains.

He harbored pride, and deepest fear.
Hero’s power was not found here.

I’d learned the mind won’t carry all.
Without love, its use is small.

One of strong body was the next I sought,
‘Twas discipline that I forgot.

Without the will to keep it so,
Healthy bodies are quick to go.

On my path, there came to be
A young girl who would walk with me.

Not the smartest in the land,
But gentle in her speech and hand.

Nor was she so very fast,
But by diligence completed work at last.

Dutiful in her loyalty,
She refused to leave her post with me.

We adventured then for many a year,
Suddenly it all was clear.

My friend, a hero brave and true,
She, a hero who never knew.

I told her of the truth I’d found.
Scarcely did she make a sound.

She thought on my speech for quite a while,
And suddenly began to smile.

We had finally finished the unending quest,
And both received our precious rest.

I learned the hero’s powers to be,
Diligence, love and loyalty.

My friend had found a truth as well.
It caused her gentle heart to swell.

She had finally found it true,
That hero is what heroes do.

 

Heart’s candles

by Almirena,
Brown Belt of the First Circle

I died a thousand times within my dreams
Where silk and sorrows sigh a whispered word
Made brighter than the stars of old regimes
And falling to the verdant ground, unheard.

I felt the word – now buried in its grave
And dead again. But what has stirred its heart
Is stronger than the distant suns I save
And cherish in the halls of ancient art.

What faces death and triumphs in the hour?
What dies but lives – the seed of something new?
What look upon the nascent face, once dour,
Can mend the break and ring its blade now true?

Heroic valour! Even in the dark
You flourish and you raise your gallant force.
Your sound is sweet to those who bear your mark –
Your lute is strung with courage from that source!