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Manufactured in the United States of America,30 29 28 27 26 25 24 23 22 21. To the Ultimate Warrior of Peace of whom Socrates is but a twinkling. reflection Who has no name yet many and Who is the Source of us all. TO OUR READERS, The books we publish are our contribution to an emerging world based on. cooperation rather than on competition on affirmation of the human spirit. rather than on self doubt and on the certainty that all humanity is connected. Our goal is to touch as many lives as possible with a message of hope for a. better world,Hal and Linda Kramer Publishers,BOOKS BY DAN MILLMAN. The Peaceful Warrior Series,Way of the Peaceful Warrior. Sacred Journey of the Peaceful Warrior, Especially for Children Secret of the Peaceful Warrior.
Quest for the Crystal Castle,Other Books by Dan Millman The Warrior Athlete. No Ordinary Moments,The Life You Were Born to Live. PRINTED ON ACID FREE PAPER,The Gas Station at Rainbow s End. BOOK ONE THE WINDS OF CHANGE,1 Gusts of Magic,2 The Web of Illusion. 3 Cutting Free,BOOK TWO THE WARRIOR S TRAINING,4 The Sword is Sharpened.
5 The Mountain Path,6 Pleasure Beyond the Mind,BOOK THREE UNREASONABLE. 7 The Final Search,8 The Gate Opens,EPILOGUE LAUGHTER IN THE WIND. Acknowledgements, I want to offer my respect and appreciation to those who helped directly or. indirectly with the development of this book and to thank many teachers. students and friends who have shared stories from the great spiritual. traditions and served as an inspiration to me I also thank Hal and Naomi of. H J Kramer Inc for their un budging efforts in reaching out to the widest. possible audience, My heart felt gratitude to my wife Joy who has energized my spirit all along. and to my parents Herman and Vivian Millman whose love and faith gave me the. courage to begin the Way, My life has been blessed with many teachers who have influenced my writing.
life and work, Robert Nadeau true teacher of Aikido in spirit as well as form who showed me. how to bridge the two, Baba Ram Class Richard Alpert spiritual pioneer in the West a teacher whose. humor heart and verbal gifts catapulted me into the psycho physical realms. Oscar Ichazo of Arica Institute a master teacher whose School helped provide a. balance of body mind and emotions, Da Free John a spiritual Adept whose way of life benefited me and whose writing. helped light the way, Michael Bookbinder a brother teacher friend catalyst cheerleader to the. soul part of a larger mission,And of course there s Soc.
An extraordinary series of events took place in my life beginning in December. 1966 during my junior year at the University of California at Berkeley It all. began at 3 20 A M when I first stumbled upon Socrates in an all night gas. station He didn t volunteer his real name but after spending time with him. that first night I named him on impulse after the ancient Greek sage he liked. the name so it stuck That chance encounter and the adventures that followed. were to transform my life, The years prior to 1966 had smiled upon me Raised by loving parents in a secure. environment I was later to win the World Trampoline Championship in London. travel through Europe and receive many honors Life brought rewards but no. lasting peace or satisfaction, Now I realize that I had in a sense been sleeping all those years and just. dreaming I was awake until I met Socrates who came to be my mentor and friend. Before that time I d always believed that a life of quality enjoyment and. wisdom were my human birthright and would be automatically bestowed upon me as. time passed I never suspected that I would have to learn how to live that. there were specific disciplines and ways of seeing the world I had to master. before I could awaken to a simple happy uncomplicated life. Socrates showed me the error of my ways by contrasting them with his way the. Way of the Peaceful Warrior He constantly poked fun at my own serious. concerned problematic life until I came to see through his eyes of wisdom. compassion and humor And he never let up until I discovered what it means to. live as a warrior, Often I sat with him far into the early morning hours listening to him arguing. with him and in spite of myself laughing with him This story is based on my. adventure but it is a novel The man I called Socrates did in fact exist Yet. he had a way of blending into the word so it s been difficult at times to tell. where he left off and other teachers and life experiences began I have taken. liberties with the dialogue and with some time sequences and have sprinkled. anecdotes and metaphors into the story to highlight the lessons Socrates would. want me to convey, Life is not a private affair A story and its lessons are only made useful if. shared So I ve chosen to honor my teacher by sharing his piercing wisdom and. humor with you,Warriors warriors we call ourselves.
We fight for splendid virtue for high endeavor for sublime wisdom therefore. we call ourselves warriors,The Gas Station,at Rainbow s End. Life begins I thought as I waved goodbye to mom and dad and pulled away from. the curb in my reliable old Valiant its faded white body stuffed with the. belongings I d packed for my first year at college I felt strong independent. ready for anything, Singing to myself above the radio s music I sped North across the freeways of. Los Angeles then up and over the Grapevine connecting with Route 99 which. carried me through the green agricultural flatlands stretching to the foot of. the San Gabriel Mountains, Just before dusk my winding descent through the Oakland hills brought me a. shimmering view of San Francisco Bay My excitement grew as I neared the. Berkeley campus, After finding my dormitory I unpacked and gazed out the window at the Golden. Gate Bridge and the lights of San Francisco sparkling in the darkness. Five minutes later I was walking along Telegraph Avenue looking in shop. windows breathing the fresh Northern California air savoring the smells. drifting out of tiny caf6s Overwhelmed by it all I walked the beautifully. landscaped paths of the campus until after midnight. The next morning immediately after breakfast I walked down to Harmon. Gymnasium where I d be training six days a week four muscle straining. somersaulting sweaty hours each day pursuing My dreams of becoming a. Two days passed and I was already drowning in a sea of people papers and. class schedules Soon the months blended together passing and changing softly. like the mild California seasons In my classes I survived in the gym I. thrived A friend once told me I was born to be an acrobat I certainly looked. the part clean cut short brown halt a lean wiry body I d always had a. penchant for daredevil stunts even as a child I enjoyed playing on the edge of. fear The gymnastics room had become my sanctuary where I found excitement. challenge and a measure of satisfaction, By the end of my first two years I had flown to Germany France and England.
representing the United States Gymnastics Federation I won the World Trampoline. Championship my gymnastics trophies were piling up in the corner of my room my. picture appeared in the Daily Californian with such regularity that people began. to recognize me and my reputation grew Women smiled at me Susie a savory. unfailingly sweet friend with short blond hair and a toothpaste smile paid me. amorous visits more and more often Even my studies were going well I felt on. top of the world, However in the early autumn of 1966 my junior year something dark and. intangible began to take shape By then I d moved out of the dorm and was living. alone in a small studio behind my landlord s house During this time I felt a. growing melancholy even in the midst of all my achievements Shortly. thereafter the nightmares started Nearly every night I jerked awake sweating. Almost always the dream was the same, I walk along a dark city street tall buildings without doors or windows loom at. me through a dark swirling mist, A towering shape cloaked in black strides toward me I feel rather than see a. chilling specter a gleaming white skull with black eye sockets that stare at me. in deathly silence A finger of white bone points at me the white knucklebones. cud into a beckoning claw I freeze, A white haired man appears from behind the hooded terror his face is calm and. unlined His footsteps make no sound I sense somehow that he is my only hope. of escape he has the power to save me but he doesn t see me and I can t call. Mocking my fear the black hooded Death whirls around to face the white haired. man who laughs in his face Stunned I watch Death furiously makes a grab for. him The next moment the specter is hurtling toward me as the old man seizes. him by his cloak and tosses him into the air, Suddenly the Grim Reaper vanishes The man with the shining white hair looks at.
me and holds out his hands in a gesture of welcome I walk toward him then. directly into him dissolving into his body When I look down at myself I see. that I m wearing a black robe I raise my hands and see bleached white snarled. bones come together in prayer,I d wake up screaming softly. One night early in December I lay in bed listening to the howling wind driving. through a small crack in the window of my apartment Sleepless I got up and. threw on my faded Levis a T shirt sneakers and down jacket and walked out. into the night It was 3 05 A M, I walked aimlessly inhaling deeply the moist chilly air looking up into the. star lit sky listening for a rare sound in the silent streets The cold made me. hungry so I headed for an all night gas station to buy some cookies and a soft. drink Hands in my pockets I hurried across campus past sleeping houses. before I came to the lights of the service station It was a bright fluorescent. oasis in a darkened wilderness of closed food joints shops and movie theaters. I rounded the corner of the garage adjoining the station and nearly fell over a. man sitting in the shadows leaning his chair back against the red tile station. wall Startled I retreated He was wearing a red wool cap grey corduroy pants. white socks and Japanese sandals He seemed comfortable enough in a light. windbreaker though the wall thermometer by his head registered 38 degrees. Without looking up he said in a strong almost musical voice Sorry if I. frightened you,Oh no that s okay Do you have any soda pop. Only have fruit juice here And don t call me Pop He turned toward me and. with a half smile removed his cap revealing shining white hair Then he. That laugh I stared blankly at him for one more moment He was the old man in. my dream The white hair the clear unlined face a tall slim man of fifty or. sixty years old He laughed again In my confusion I somehow found my way to the. door marked Office and pushed it open Along with the office door I had felt. another door opening to another dimension I collapsed onto an old couch and. shivered wondering what might come screaming through that door into my orderly. world My dread was mixed with a strange fascination that I couldn t fathom I. sat breathing shallowly trying to regain my previous hold on the ordinary. I looked around the office It was so different from the sterility and disarray. of the usual gas station The couch I was sitting on was covered by a faded but. colorful Mexican blanket To my left near the entryway stood a case of neatly. organized traveler s aids maps fuses sun glasses and so on Behind a small. dark brown walnut desk was an earth colored corduroy upholstered chair A. spring water dispenser guarded a door marked Private Near me was a second. door that led to the garage, What struck me most of all was the homelike atmosphere of the room A bright. yellow shag rug ran its length stopping just short of the welcome mat at the. entry The walls had recently been painted white and a few landscape paintings. lent them color The soft incandescent glow of the lights calmed me It was a. relaxing contrast to the fluorescent glare outside Overall the room felt warm. orderly and secure, How could I have known that it was to be a place of unpredictable adventure.
magic terror and romance I only thought then A fireplace would fit in. nicely here, Soon my breathing had relaxed and my mind if not content had at least stopped. whirling This white haired man s resemblance to the man in my dream was surely. a coincidence With a sigh I stood zipped up my jacket and sallied forth into. the chill air, He was still sitting there As I walked past and stole a last quick look at his. face a glimmer in his eyes caught mine His eyes were like none I d seen. before At first they seemed to have tears in them ready to spill over then. the tears turned to a twinkle like a reflection of the starlight I was drawn. deeper into his gaze until the stars themselves became only a reflection of his. eyes I was lost for a time seeing nothing but those eyes the unyielding and. curious eyes of an infant, I don t know how long I stood there it could have been seconds or minutes. maybe longer With a start I became aware of where I was Mumbling a goodnight. feeling off balance I hurried toward the corner, When I reached the curb I stopped My neck tingled I felt that he was watching. me I glanced back No more than fifteen seconds had passed But there he was. Sacred Journey of the Peaceful Warrior Especially for Children Secret of the Peaceful Warrior Quest for the Crystal Castle Other Books by Dan Millman The Warrior Athlete No Ordinary Moments The Life You Were Born to Live PRINTED ON ACID FREE PAPER Contents Preface The Gas Station at Rainbow s End BOOK ONE THE WINDS OF CHANGE 1 Gusts of Magic 2 The Web of Illusion 3 Cutting Free BOOK TWO

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