I spent 12 years of my life resolutely learning how to kill, carrying out deadly missions, fighting hand to hand to conquer the enemy, to send them to their deaths or running in fear. I was not going to roll over and surrender. My anger was part of the crusade to fight death . . . which I believed in with absolute certainty.
Then suddenly one day all the death I had caused came up and slapped me across the face. I saw how wrong I was and how the death I had caused was theft. Yes, killing is theft. I had misunderstood the nature of death, believing it was justifiable.
In all the cities, countries, dangerous and mad places in which I had fought and killed, I thought I was trying to bring order and a better way of life, but I became horrified by what I had done. It was as though I had awoken from a dream.
I cannot give back the lives I took, but I know now that it is life that's important. Now I strive every day to be a compassionate, big hearted, caring person. Anytime I even think about getting angry with anybody, I see death and I remember: life is everything.