Our long-term security will come not from our ability to instill fear in other peoples, but through our capacity to speak to their hopes. And that work will best be done through the power of the decency and dignity of the American people —our troops and diplomats, but also our private sector, nongovernmental organizations and citizens. All of us have a role to play.  Barack Obama

My preoccupation with Iraq is a natural result of a military and civilian career involving that nation for many years. During the late 80’s our eyes were glued to the Soviet threat. Even as Mikhail Gorbachev’s glasnost and perestroika (“transparency” and “reconstruction”) toppled the Cold War wall, Saddam Hussein’s aggression against Kuwait drew the bulk of America’s newly available attention.  Iraq has been actively on our minds since the early 1990’s.

With the September 11^th attacks a decade later, the citizens of this planet entered a new era. My platoon helped “open the door” with reconnaissance operations, and U.S. military power flowed into Afghanistan in force. We conducted a dramatic reversal of Taliban influence there…then took our eyes off that ball and waded back into Iraq. In the absence of meaningful alternatives for the Afghan society, the Taliban reconstituted. As U.S. authorities in Iraq deliberated whether to leave earlier than planned, we found ourselves turning once more to unfinished business in Afghanistan and expecting several more years of determined combat. I headed back to Afghanistan.

If all this pinballing between wars in Iraq and Afghanistan seems to indicate a lack of effectiveness on our part, it’s because, well, we hadn’t been very effective. The proof is in the pudding. Don’t get me wrong. I’m not criticizing the planners and implementers. I’m in no position to second-guess the decisions of good, highly experienced Coalition and policy leaders, armed with superior expertise and facing challenges of tremendous complexity. Nor, God forbid, am I saying the soldiers on the ground have not given their best.  Remember—I am one. I’m simply pointing out the obvious. If we call a plumber to repair a leaky pipe, and the pipe continues to leak after he’s paid and gone, he wasn’t fully effective.

The pipes in Iraq and Afghanistan were still leaking. The good news is, we had learned to build a more effective team. No longer just an experienced fellow who knows how to swing a wrench…but doesn’t understand how various metals corrode one another. We’re bringing chemists for that. We’re also bringing the water company, to determine whether the pressure is right. And a technician will walk through the house with us, demonstrating better ways to use the faucets so we can stress the pipes less.

Enough general contractor euphemisms for you?

Recent years in Iraq and Afghanistan have given the term “whole of government” acceptance as more than the feel-good jargon early critics assumed. Whole of government was officially mandated in the U.S. 2010 National Security Strategy. The introductory quote for this chapter is from President Barack Obama’s foreword to that document.

We need to do a better job of kissing and killing. The military is expert at force, or hard power. And today we better understand that force alone provides—at best—only short-term gains, while setting the stage for possible long-term losses. As we add more kissing, or the soft power of influence, to include outreach and cultural awareness, we establish a better balance and better conditions for success. I emphasize balance—all too often, the message of smart power or “applied” smart power is misunderstood as merely an extension of soft power. Once again: without the underlying capacity for force, our soft persuasion can enjoy only limited effectiveness.

We need stable societies to carry on once force is removed. We need a smarter approach to societal engagement and development, a harmonized and holistic approach, so these populations can begin to support themselves and establish the foundation for enduring security.

It will be interesting to see whether our future “repairs” turn out to be effective.

The human spirit is the strongest force I know of in the world we share. The human spirit overcomes all cruelty, all pain, all adversity…and heroes are made of the most common men and women in the most uncommon of circumstances….

[NOTE: David Allen, author of Getting Things Done, is an active supporter of Powerful Peace and readily allowed the following excerpts of his work. We haven't yet got permissions for another work quoted, so you'll have to get the book for that piece. ]

Paradox

War is good

From leaping into action for humanitarian reasons we turn to leaping into action with the necessary intent to destroy. Sometimes the worst we can imagine turns out to be a blessing. A family suffers financial ruin, then finds its true riches come from one another. A tyrant brutalizes his subjects, then (when all other options are exhausted) courageous nations initiate what Washington called that “plague of mankind” —war. The paradox of conflict includes also the need to integrate women into the male-dominated culture of war, and the martial artist’s understanding that sensitivity helps us fight better and end war sooner…with less destruction.

If the only tool you have is a hammer,
you tend to see every problem as a nail.
Abraham Maslow

I hope the subtitle hooked you. It is a true statement. Read through to the end and you’ll see the point.

I’m a retired SEAL, so you can believe this: I’m not squeamish about the readiness and willingness to cause harm. It’s a simple fact of life that there are some in this world who target innocents and won’t choose to stop. They can only be stopped. Someone must be prepared to stop them.

While accepting this cold reality, we need to respect another: governments with the means to stop those who harm innocents have to be conscious of the potential consequences of their use of force. Put another way, the worthy surgeon knows his tremendous power to heal with a knife must be managed with tremendous care, because misuse of his gift may cause injury or even death.

No doubt about it; there’s plenty of room for debate on the question of how much hard power is appropriate. There can be no debate, however, that it’s absurd for innocent bystanders to be hurt as a consequence of our protecting innocent bystanders.

As Maslow said, “If the only tool you have is a hammer, you tend to see every problem as a nail.” I see this one-tool dynamic at work in the behavior of some of my fellow soldiers and in the imaginations of some soldiers’ supporters. To be effective, however, we need as many diverse tools as can possibly be assembled. Most of them are not designed to kill. Many are intended for building up households, neighborhoods or regions.

What I’m trying to say should be pretty obvious: whatever idiocy we adults may choose, the children whose flesh and spirit are torn by our petty struggles deserve to have us fight much, much harder…toward better solutions. Restraint is possible, and careless fighting spawns fighting.

There is another tremendous paradox inherent in conflict. War and violence instinctively stimulate rigid and closed resistance by those threatened…but solutions are most easily discovered through open sensitivity to the root causes of a conflict. War is traditionally the domain of men, and men traditionally reject sensitivity an acceptable behavior or identification. In discussions on the topic of women and war at the U.S. Institute of Peace (USIP), the New America Foundation (NAF) and other venues, we have reached two conclusions:

Firstly, “women’s” issues in war are unique to females, yet simultaneously universal. Consider the epic tragedy of mass sexual violence waged strategically against a population. The immediate victims are (usually) women and girls…yet the terrorizing effects are often targeted against the men in their lives. Husbands, fathers and brothers of potential or actual rape victims are emotionally damaged along with the emotionally and physically traumatized female victims. These men are often responsible heads of households. They often hide their families or flee with them instead of stepping forward and participating in armed resistance.

I’m humbled to be acquainted with Abigail Disney, filmmaker of the documentaries Pray the Devil Back to Hell and Women, War and Peace. Her work is at once heartbreaking and inspiring. Women—and men—Abby shows us come through as incredibly powerful, courageous and resilient human beings instead of helpless victims.

The other inescapable conclusion on women and war is that males have too long dominated in this arena. Perhaps a better way to say this is that if women had enjoyed a more equal voice in governing the affairs and disputes of state throughout history, there would have been less war.

Three of my other female heroes co-edited the USIP book, Women and War (Endowment of the United States Institute of Peace, 2011). Kathleen Kuehnast, (Director of USIP’s Gender and Peacebuilding Center of Innovation); Chantal de Jonge Oudraat (Director of USIP’s Jennings Randolph Fellowship program); and Helga Hernes (Senior Advisor on women, peace and security issues at Oslo Peace Research Institute) are highly accomplished individually; but in this partnership their results are inspiring. Their active and able cohort on gender issues and war is Gayle Tzemach Lemmon. Gayle is the author of The Dressmaker of Khair Khana (Harper, 2011), the true account of an enterprising Afghan woman, her family and their town under the Taliban.

Abigail, Kathleen, Chantal, Helga and Gayle personify the insight and ability necessary to build powerful peace. While on the subject of gender and conflict, of course, as mentioned in chapter 19, I strongly recommend Half the Sky; Turning Oppression into Opportunity for Women Worldwide (Alfred A. Knopf, 2009).

The value of sensitivity in conflict won’t surprise those with experience in traditional martial arts. Since my earliest military days I’ve practiced various Japanese and Korean fighting styles, and consider my “home” art to be jujutsu—the hand-to-hand style of the Samurai warriors and parent of today’s karate, judo and aikido. To put it mildly, an insensitive jujutsu-ka, (jujutsu practitioner) is a losing jujutsu-ka. Success depends on maintaining a quiet mind and relaxed body, effectively turning oneself into a living, breathing sensor. The more sensitive a martial artist, the earlier he can perceive an intended threat, respond appropriately, and survive.

I like the description provided by Jonathan Maberry in Ultimate Jujutsu; Principles and Practice (Strider Nolan Publishing, 2002):

[SECTION REDACTED PENDING PUBLISHER'S PERMISSION FOR USE]

Sounds a bit like Powerful Peace, doesn’t it? Readiness to fight, combined with determined restraint. The pursuit of victory without force.

Sensitivity allows an individual to literally “go with the flow.” Conflict is, at its core, resistance. In jujutsu we happily go with the flow and make full use of an opponent’s resistance energy. If he pushes, I get out of the way and pull. If he pulls away, I push him faster and farther than he intended. This push-pull, pull-push harnesses available energy and magnifies the “resources” (energy and motion) available to accomplish my goal of no longer being in a fight. And flow itself is very important. Stopping and starting not only steal valuable time in a critical situation, but discard the kinetic power of momentum.

One final diversion to reinforce this concept of paradox; with this one, I hope to throw your comfortable mental state and assumptions right to the mat. (That’s jujutsu humor.) My own personal “guru of stress-free productivity” and supporter of Powerful Peace is David Allen, author of Making It All Work: Winning at the Game of Work and Business of Life (Viking Adult, 2008). In his original, wildly-successful personal productivity process and book, Getting Things Done (commonly known as “GTD,” Penguin Books, 2001), he points directly at the same concepts as acquired through his own martial arts experience. Here they are applied to management of the self:

“In karate there is an image that’s used to define the position of perfect readiness: ‘mind like water.’ Imagine throwing a pebble into a still pond. How does the water respond? The answer is, totally appropriately to the force and mass of the input; then it returns to calm. It doesn’t overreact or underreact….

“Anything that causes you to overreact or underreact can control you, and often does. Responding inappropriately to your e-mail, your staff, your projects, your unread magazines, your thoughts about what you need to do, your children, or your boss will lead to less effective results than you’d like. Most people give either more or less attention to things than they deserve, simply because they don’t operate with a ‘mind like water.’”

David’s simple explanation of the ineffectiveness of reactiveness and imbalance in daily tasks is immediately translatable to the realms of interpersonal and international conflict:

“Reflect for a moment on what it actually might be like if your personal management situation were totally under control, at all levels and at all times. What if you could dedicate fully 100 percent of your attention to whatever was at hand, at your own choosing, with no distraction…?

“It’s a condition of working, doing, and being in which the mind is clear and constructive things are happening. It’s a state that is accessible by everyone, and one that is increasingly needed to deal effectively with the complexity of life in the twenty-first century.”

To me the linkages are obvious between an awareness of gross abuses against women, the martial artist’s appreciation for balance, the management of the self and the practical conflict reduction of Powerful Peace. We humans are far more connected than not. Grasping this connectedness allows us to understand both our real ability to act for positive change and a real sense of responsibility to do so. Being “connected” is so significant to daily life and conflict that another important book has been written under that very title. We’ll come to that closer to the end.

Returning to our original paradox: War is good…but for one thing, and one thing only: establishing a secure peace. As stated in our dojo, “avoid rather than check…for all life is precious and no one has the authority to take it away.” An intolerable wrong like Hitler’s conquest must be confronted, but no healthy person desires a perpetual state of war. A powerful peace does not come about by accident but by deep sacrifice, willingness to seek middle ground, and a reasonable sense of urgency. It results from pouring our souls into the efforts of restraint and considered response…no matter how much we want to kill back.

Heart is where the home is

I sincerely wish you peace, joy, and prosperity. May you have a home to live in every day of your life. It’s not such a strange wish to offer these days, is it? Such difficult times. So many suffering, out of doors, at home and abroad. Take a moment and whisper a prayer for their safety and shelter…or, if needed, for yourself.

Acting is just a way of making a living; the family is life.
Denzel Washington 

As I wrote this chapter in our cozy dining room, a steaming cup of liquid inspiration (coffee) close at hand and a beautiful blanket of snow draping the house, my wife was sympathizing on the phone with a lady who would soon be officially homeless. My wife, a living saint who is incapable of turning her back on any stray (yours truly included), would be “plussing up” by three cats our current stock of canines, felines and assorted rodentia. This, so three beloved pets won’t go under the needle when this lady would be evicted the next day…in the days before Christmas. While the lady herself would be able to move into a shelter, animals would not be welcome at her next residence.

I pray that you will have a home to live in for the next 365 days.

Across Iraq and Afghanistan, my own alternate homes for many years, the vast majority of houses are built of stone and mortar. In most of the cities (outside of the universal, sprawling slums housing the poor), dwellings are tidy, spare reflections of the generally barren landscape seen for miles around. Yet these austere buildings hold some of the warmest, most loving families to be found anywhere on our planet.

Therefore it is not “What” the home is, in my opinion, but “Who.”

Once during a year living in the north of Turkey, I visited the simple, brick-and-concrete house of my dear friend Hayri (you’ll remember him from the chapter on Understanding.) His mother welcomed me as a new son, sparing no expense. And this is identical, by the way, to the generosity I’ve received in the homes of Americans, Russians, Omanis, Afghans, Japanese, Iraqis, and a host of other good people worldwide.

On this particular visit, I made the amateur mistake of admiring a simple, orange doily that Hayri’s mother had crocheted. In less than one minute I was the proud, if somewhat perplexed, owner of that same orange doily, now neatly wrapped for transport. This was my first of many experiences with OMEH (Overwhelming Middle Eastern Hospitality). Resistance was futile; Hayri later told me I’m lucky I hadn’t admired his Mom’s furniture first.

The home can be a place of startling kindness, or it can contain staggering cruelty. Don’t judge a nook by its cover.

The most civilized of properties sometimes host the most unimaginable evil. Witness Josef Fritzl, the Austrian father who shackled, enslaved, raped, and seven times impregnated his own daughter over an uninterrupted, twenty-four year stay in his private basement dungeon. Researching this story, I was astounded to learn that he even incinerated the corpse of one of his own infant children/grandchildren to avoid discovery.

Contrast this horror to the boundless sacrifice of countless parents in famine-stricken nations, who sometimes starve to death themselves in order to share the tiniest crumbs of food and save their children.

It ain’t what—it’s who.

In Powerful Peace, you’ve read about the importance of seeking out common ground in the quest to reduce conflict and violence. What more common ground is there than the home itself? Whether snow-blanketed like mine, or shaken by war like those of my friends, this simple societal framework (literally and rhetorically speaking) has commonality written on it from Santa’s workshop to Admiral Byrd’s porta-potty on the South Pole.

In millions of homes on every continent, husbands and wives celebrate their blissful union…and quickly discover things to fight about. Children of every hue are born into homes on every terrain. Loved ones die, family cultures are renewed, and there’s almost never enough money to do everything we want.

Through it all, the calendar trudges faithfully along. Seasons come and go. Life in the home, ever dynamic, remains fundamentally and appreciably unchanged, forever. I’ve long heard it said that “home is where the heart is,” and as a man who’s been everywhere else I know it to be true for me. But I also know that whoever I meet, wherever I meet him, remembers some special place, too. It might have looked, sounded and felt very different from mine. It might have been on the other side of the planet.

Home is a piece of dirt, somewhere in the world. But it is also a very real, very lasting piece of a person’s life. If I disdain this person’s home, I have disdained him. When I honor his unique origins, I have honored him…and I have made some little step of progress for both our lives.

Before we get into a book about making peace for your neighborhood and your nation, I want to take a moment to speak to a very special class of people in every land. Those who have served, do serve and will serve the rest of us deserve to be acknowledged specially in any discussion of war and peace. Following years of complex, sometimes-ambiguous, violent conflicts around the globe, many have been wounded in obvious and not-so-obvious ways.

Ours is a noble calling: the honor and privilege of ensuring the safety of others. Try not to doubt that, whether you have seen, or will see, events that trouble you during your service. I’m proud of you, and I beg every protected citizen to stand up and humbly thank you.

Your body, your mind, your heart and your soul have been scarred, or will be scarred, by your transformation into a warrior. This is the price of duty. It has built, or will build, your character and strength.

You may be in pain, struggling with a lost limb, lost peace of mind…or a lost friend. Talk about it. Talk about it. Find the courage to trust someone else, perhaps a professional, and talk about it. Believe me; I know how scary it can be to open up. Express your fears of weakness in a trusted relationship. It will make you stronger.

Yes, big boys and big girls do cry. It’s only the incomplete woman, the frightened man, who cannot release that most basic human expression. Whether a pilot, a grunt, a SEAL or a cook, there is no place for robots in our business. It’s only through teamwork that you have become, or will become, a soldier. And it’s only through teamwork that you honor your comrades and live up to your full potential. I pray your life will be deeply fulfilled, and your healing complete.

For 24/7 veterans’ crisis support, or to just begin opening up, call 1-800-273-TALK.

 Out of suffering have emerged the strongest souls;
the most massive characters are seared with scars.
Khalil Gibran

Ten years to the minute later, in honor of all those innocent lives lost in a flash, and all those lost in this decade worldwide, I offer the draft Chapter One of the forthcoming book, Powerful Peace. There is no easy solution to the terrible conflict raging behind the curtain that could result in such a nightmare…but when we recognize that we have options we make a start.

Hate September 11, 2001

Out of suffering have emerged the strongest souls;
the most massive characters are seared with scars.
- Khalil Gibran

My American SEAL platoon and our Arab SEAL hosts watched in living color on satellite television as the second plane dissolved into the second of the Twin Towers. It was approaching evening where we were, several months into a deployment to the Persian Gulf. We sat frozen, burning in silent rage, staring as almost twenty deluded murderers exploited the most advanced technology to carry out the most primitive evil. Having slashed women to death with razor knives, these “men” committed suicide and in the process proved they were brave enough and strong enough to kill thousands of innocents to include unsuspecting office workers, little old ladies, and infants.

They called themselves “warriors.”

We were all naval commandos in that room. Some were American, and some were the “local nationals” we had been sent to train. As only one of the painfully ironic and poignant facts of that unique evening, we were teaching our hosts skills that would make them better at killing terrorists. Yet not one of us could lift a finger to prevent what was happening in the United States.

Though we sat all together in that remote Middle Eastern barracks, each was very much alone with his thoughts. The Americans thought of loved ones and Teammates a world away. My Arab friends thought of…well, I hope to one day share another cup of tea and ask them. As you may imagine, things got a little busy during the days that followed. Within weeks, I would be on a reconnaissance mission, charting an isolated beach for the U.S. Marine Corps invasion of Afghanistan.

Almost twenty Arabs and Americans, living together. Almost twenty Arabs, dying together on the dispersed team of terrorist hijackers. If those cowardly bastards had instead chosen to face our little international group, man to man, 9/11 would have turned out very differently. For one thing, they wouldn’t have had to work so hard to make their way down to hell. At our hands, hell would have come unstoppably roaring up to them.

And three thousand gentle, innocent souls would still be alive with their families.

No one spoke for hours during the spectacle. If one of the local SEALs had laughed or expressed any satisfaction in what we were witnessing, I believe I would have killed him on the spot. This is not a boast. It’s a confession, a shameful admission. I’m very ashamed it’s true. These were my friends, but we were so choked with hurt; we were so thirsty for revenge.

Here was a bitterly painful sense of helplessness, for some of the most dangerous men on earth. We were supposed to be the protectors of our countrymen. Each December Seventh at the SEAL Team in Hawaii, in fact, we would swam the five miles around Pearl Harbor’s Ford Island. Commemorating the original Day of Infamy in 1941, this ceremony sent the message that hostile actors were welcome to attack again if they wished…we would be ready this time.

Instead, we were on the wrong side of the planet.

We were supposed to be the ones who would sacrifice all so fellow citizens could sleep safe in their beds at night. Yet we would sleep through this night with troubled dreams, safe in our own beds, while thousands of innocents under our protection suffered and died in a crushing, inescapable nightmare.

On top of everything else, within our platoon I had the unique awareness that only two Tuesdays earlier, my wife and children had flown from Boston to California, as a plane I had just seen disintegrate had been supposed to do. Later, she would tell me a strange detail. During the early part of their August 28^th flight, a man of apparent Middle Eastern descent had been roaming the cabin and studying the passenger seating, crew stations, wings and more. He had been carrying an Arabic language newspaper. My wife wrote it off as unreasonable suspicion on her part, but she remained troubled that he had been so intent in his survey of the airplane. It might have been a coincidence.

Do I have a personal understanding of hatred? Yes, I do. That’s the first thing I want you to understand.

Unlike my loved ones sobbing through a tortured morning rush hour in the United States, I watched it sitting among Arab friends and allies, highly trained commandos – some of whom may have empathized with the grievances of the al Qaeda terrorists piloting those improvised cruise missiles.

If that last statement strains your comfort level, I’m satisfied. Peacemaking is not the fluffy stuff of rainbows and unicorns. It is not the exclusive domain of well-intentioned activists shouting “Ban War!” Without justified war, Hitler may have completed his quest and destroyed millions more. Genuine conflict reduction requires the capacity and willingness to strike, combined with a determined restraint and the guts to stare straight into the face of hate…and then choose a reasoned response.

Yes, some of my friends did (and do) empathize with the grievances al Qaeda uses to justify hijacking airplanes. Note the careful use of this phrase “empathized with the grievances.” I know none of our Arab partners in that host platoon were radicalized terrorists. If one had been, he would certainly have exploited our trust to kill some or all of us. The symbolic value of slaughtering a few American SEALs while we slept would have been irresistible. As demonstrated by the 9/11 hijackers, even sacrificing his life would have been acceptable to an extremist with an opportunity.

Empathy, however, is easy to understand, if we have the courage to consider the Other’s reality.

Here’s one poorly-hidden elephant in the room: In many of the countries I’ve visited around the Middle East, the horror of Palestinian children killed in Israeli attacks is advertised widely and discussed passionately. For Israelis, on the other hand, the constant threat of devastating Palestinian rocket and suicide bomber attacks is a deep and chronic pain that can make reasoned negotiation seem unreasonable. Neither side will run out of iron-clad reasons to avenge. Nor will either side ever accept its own marginalization or elimination, so all the struggle and rhetoric in pursuit of dominance for either extreme can only serve to prolong the suffering of innocents within both populations.

Many participants can sense this. Isn’t it time many more admitted it? Isn’t it time both parties, with their thoughts on their children, stared straight into the face of hate and said Enough?

In another part of the world, in another abscess of raging human conflict, actor Don Cheadle and activist John Prendergast have done exactly that. You’ll read about their “Enough” movement and book, The Enough Moment,  in chapter 25.

Only the absolute cessation of violence provides space to work through underlying issues in pursuit of the stability and reconciliation that can benefit both. Yet all too often, hatred is so intense that a participant can come to prefer personal suffering over personal peace if that is the price required to hurt the adversary.

Until squabbling siblings, barroom brawlers or aggressing armies establish at least a cold truce, until the participants can “cause a pause,” the retaliatory cycle of violence continues to escalate and solutions fly ever further from reality.

The solution lies only between the extremes. Only here can balance – and peace for those under your care – be found.

A concept took root and grew during this “processing” period, and I believe it’s ready to be spelled out in honor of these brave commandos. The theme for this article is based on a worldview that goes back to ancient times: the view that believes all matter is composed of four primary elements of “earth, air, fire and water.” Some hold that a fifth “element” is that unseen spirit which animates humankind. I’ll come back to all this after an overview.

The U.S. Navy SEALs were founded by President John F. Kennedy to be an all-in-one force made up of men who would be universally trained to undertake missions in any environment this rough planet can dish out. Unlike more specialized units that focused on narrow areas like parachuting, intelligence, and the combat diving of the original “Frogmen” in the Underwater Demolition Teams (UDT), these new warriors would do all of the above and so much more.

One principle was engineered into the curriculum from the very beginning: that a man can do ten times what he thinks he can. If he thinks he can swim a half mile he’ll swim five. If he thinks he can do twenty pushups he’ll do two hundred. The training would be designed to destroy students’ wildest ideas of their own limitations, crafting highly able operators in their place.

They would also become jacks of all trades, and masters of none. (This is slightly misleading, since all SEALs tend to specialize according to personality as they mature, while maintaining the full range of generalist skills. As for me, I’m partial to special reconnaissance and disappearing into the forests or deserts.) The title of this new breed was subject to some debate. In the end, the term SEAL was selected as a creative acronym from the three operational environments of Sea, Air, and Land.

All this was in my head as I walked through the personal pain of losing these comrades. Sea, Air and Land blended naturally with the concepts of Earth, Air, Fire and Water, and suddenly it came to me: there is no difference between the finest qualities of those men we lost and the basic elements upon which the entire world depends.

Though only Earth, Air and Water are listed in their title, Fire was an essential ingredient in every one of these exceptional warriors. There is even an award, posted clearly on a wooden sign at our training compound, which acknowledges that student with the greatest “Fire in the Belly.”

Their hearts, minds and muscles had burned like Fire in the forge of SEAL training. That crucible of blood, sweat and tears is an inferno from which very few emerge; none unscathed. These men had emerged, shining with a razor edge. The tempering process of training and operations had turned iron men into steel SEALs. Refined, they had become something finer than the good men they had always been. When they emerged from this voluntary process of torment, still smoldering from the embers, they knew they now had ten times more to give…and they would give it all in a heartbeat.

They did. They gave us ten times ten for years, and days…and for that final heartbeat. I thank God for men such as these.

There is a final concept. I happen to be of the camp that believes in a fifth element, that uniquely vital spark which moves and motivates our species. All too often, the incredible physical capabilities of SEALs overshadow the greater strength they carry in their spirits. Never be deceived that these are “stone-cold killers.” On the contrary, as any friend of a SEAL will tell you, they can be among the finest, most compassionate, and most human beings you will ever meet. They are men, husbands, brothers, fathers, sons…and SEALs. Let us honor this great testimony to humanity even as we remember their incredible feats and incredible sacrifice.

- Here at PowerfulPeace.net
- On Twitter as “RobDuBois“
- At LinkedIn as “Robert DuBois” and founder of the ThUD (The Un-Divided) and ASP (Applied Smart Power) LinkedIn Groups
- As Admin (“Goat“) at the World Affairs Board for the International Defense and Geopolitics department
- And as a Council member “J. Robert DuBois” at the Small Wars Council and author of the thread “Applied Smart Power from a SEAL”

Starting to get the picture? If this sounds like a lot, it isn’t. It’s just the tip of the iceberg compared to the level 5 hurricane of activity that’ll accompany releasing the book. Please be patient for just a few more days.

More importantly, I’m going to ask you to warm up your thinking caps and pitch in on the Powerful Peace army. We need to dream up an unprecedented portfolio of ways to build and accelerate interest. No matter how I try, we will always be stronger than me – your voice will be a part of sending the message around the world.

We need to claim unexpected outlets to endorse, sponsor and display Powerful Peace, whether in your corporation, community group, or international organization. We need to reach powerful figures to get behind this important mission. Besides reaping undying gratitude and an inscribed copy for the most creative Peace Hawks, you’ll be working to make the dream a reality…and help little kids not get hurt so much.

- Rob