The warrior within: life lessons from the terracotta army

I’ve just had that painful moment of waving my parents off at the airport after their two-week holiday in China. You know the feeling; a lump in your throat, a weight in your chest and the irrational fear you might never see them again.

This was their fifth time in China, their second in Shanghai. They love the country and on each visit have wanted to tick off a cultural box. Last year it was Beijing, and this year we traveled to Xi’an to see the terracotta army. It was my second chance to witness this breathtaking testament to the ambition of ancient China. Listed as a UNESCO World Heritage Site, the warriors are one of the most famous archeological discoveries of all time.

I won’t try to squish the history and significance of some 8,000 life-sized figures, each with unique features and expressions, into a paragraph. But for context, the terracotta army was created during the Qin Dynasty (221-206 BC) by Emperor Qin Shi Huang. The warriors were buried in several pits near the emperor’s tomb, along with chariots and horses. All are said to represent Qin Shi Huang’s desire for eternal dominance.

On first sight I was blown away by the scale and intricacy of the army. But admiration quickly turned to curiosity. What if the emperor was simply scared to die? What if, afraid of his own mortality, Qin Shi Huang packed everything he might need on the other side to avoid the fate that unites us all? By doing so, he could protect himself and his legacy. It’s not unthinkable; none of us want to be forgotten.

On my second visit to the army, a new thought came up. The warriors had stood silent for thousands of years, dormant until forced to reveal themselves as examples of endurance. Could the same be said for us?

Think of something that challenged you, something so difficult that you weren’t sure you’d survive it. Mine? A period of severe online abuse that nearly killed me.

For Haruka, it was cancer. “The day before I moved to a new country, I was diagnosed with breast cancer. The timing was terrible. In China, my sons struggled at their new school and my husband with his new job. I thought things couldn’t get worse.”

The death of a parent across continents was a battle Tonye wasn’t prepared for. “I lost my mom 20 years ago, but I’m grateful for being there when she passed. It was different with my dad. I was living in another country, and there were travel restrictions. I had to witness from afar as his health deteriorated, and I couldn’t be there when he died.”

For Richard, sudden redundancy shook the ground beneath his feet. “Obviously there were financial pressures, but realizing my identity was tied up in my work was the biggest challenge. Losing my job left me questioning everything from my self-worth to what I wanted in life. It was undermining and overwhelming all at once.”

This brings me back to Xi’an. We can withstand incomprehensible suffering because in each of us is a warrior waiting to be unearthed. Unlike Qin Shi Huang’s army, our inner warriors aren’t made from clay; they are made from the experiences and people that shape us. When pain sweeps through life, we excavate their power to face battles head on. At her lowest, Haruka learned to let go and rely on people.

“My inner warrior taught me to trust and unite with others,” she shared. “I found unlimited energy in human connection.”

Tonye’s inner warrior surfaced while planning her father’s funeral. “It reminded me to hold on to the love, memories and lessons I’d been taught.”

And a shift in perspective caused Richard to dig deep.

“Yes, I love my profession,” he said, “but I’m more than that. I am a dad, a husband, a son and a friend. I separated my work from my worth which empowered me to start a business, something I never thought possible before.”

On reflection, I think my change of heart revisiting the terracotta army came down to personal circumstance. Recently I’ve had to claw my way through dust and dirt to reconnect with my inner warrior. It hasn’t been easy, but it gave me the strength I needed. In the process, I learned that circumstances don’t define us; it’s who we are in response that counts. For Haruka, Tonye and Richard, unearthing their inner warriors meant finding solace in relationships, drawing on the past and cultivating confidence.

What will it mean for you?