I had a good friend nicknamed “Happy,” on my team in Basra in 2004. In typical fashion, we called him Happy because he was dolorous and grim. Happy survived the ambush at “Green 19” and the day we got IED’d. He and I stayed close friends, and I got to see him actually become truly happy when he remarried and began to finally enjoy his life. After all his time at war, from Kosovo to Iraq, he was killed by a drunk driver walking across the street in Wisconsin. Another friend and teammate from Basra in 2004, “Dart,” was killed on our deployment to Afghanistan in 2009, after surviving countless brushes with death in between. Death came to both with unexpected timing, random and capricious, with no regard for experience or skill.

For the warrior, the possibility of death is a very real and present thing. But, the fear of death, the desire to cling to life, interferes with the ability to act. In armed conflict, even more so than in other athletic pursuits, the ability to perform instinctively and subconsciously is vital. What the samurai called “mushin” or “no-mind,” what sports psychologists call “flow” or “the zone,” is the only mindset that will maximize the chance of victory. The other trait of this mindset, apart from subconscious competence, is what modern psychologists and performance coaches refer to as being “process focused” rather than “outcome focused.” Focus on an outcome will interfere with completing the process, which will then quite probably prevent the desired outcome.

In an action shooting match, desiring to win will cause the shooter to “push.” This in turn will interfere with the competitor’s ability to perform the process of shooting at speed, which will in turn cause them to make mistakes and perform below their level of skill. In a life or death fight, the same paradox exists. The harsh reality of armed conflict, whether as soldiers, or law enforcement officers, or even as armed citizens is that death is a very real possibility for us all. The same mindset is the key here as well. If the cause is important enough to risk your life, then it needs to be won. The way to win is to cultivate a process focus, to develop subconscious competence. The desire to live will crowd the warrior’s mind with extraneous thoughts and fears, which will prevent him acting with the proper unconscious decisiveness. Consciously wanting to survive will only increase the likelihood of dying. Focusing on the process instead will maximize the odds of victory. As Munenori Yagyu, a famous swordsman of feudal Japan wrote, “Once a fight has started, if you get involved in thinking about what to do, you will be cut down by your opponent with the very next blow.”

How then do we cast aside the thought of self-preservation and do what needs to be done? As part of a military or law enforcement team, as an armed citizen protecting others, how do we develop a warrior outlook on performance and risk? How do we cultivate the focus processed mindset required for life or death conflict? For the answer, we can look at the training and traditions of warrior cultures throughout history.

Some samurai as an exercise in proper mindset would contemplate their death every morning in gruesome detail. They held that by keeping the possibility of death always in their mind they would rob it of it’s fear and power. Then in battle, they were used to the thought of their death, and could act decisively, unconcerned with their mortality. The risk of death for them no longer held priority in their minds. The legendary samurai Miyamoto Musashi famously wrote that ”the way of the warrior is the resolute acceptance of death.”

The Roman emperor and stoic philosopher Marcus Aurelius was fond of the phrase “Momento Mori.” Remember that you will die. By meditating on his mortality and the transience of his life and accomplishments, Aurelius and the other Roman stoics could take decisive action based on competence and rationality rather than be paralyzed by potentially disastrous outcomes.

The stoic philosophy of Aurelius and the warrior zen of Yagyu and Musashi are often compared, and with good reason. These are practical philosophies born of lifetimes lived at war. But as practical and battle hardened as these men were, their outlook was neither bleak nor grim. In fact, this warrior’s way of looking at life can give the objectivity needed to find peace within yourself regardless of circumstance or exterior strife. This is the origin of the oft-repeated ideal that the warrior’s path is one of self-development.

“Momento Mori.” Remember that you will die. Every moment is precious, and to be savored, and our struggles and accomplishments are ephemeral and temporary at best. To hold on too tightly to our fleeting life is to never learn to live at all. Instead of clinging to this brief mortal existence, exult in the experience of life and learn to truly live. And that is the greatest lesson that the training and life of a warrior can teach.