How a Little Blue Book Became This Iraq Veteran’s Lifeline

How a Little Blue Book Became This Iraq Veteran’s Lifeline
Illustration by The Epoch Times, Courtesy of Larrison Manygoats
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In the scorching heat of Taji, Iraq, where bullets zinged past close enough that he could feel their heat and explosions shook the ground beneath his boots, Larrison Manygoats carried an unlikely tool into combat.

Tucked away in his back pocket, wrapped carefully in a sandwich bag, was a small blue book that, for Manygoats, proved more powerful than any weapon.

“I always had it with me, it was attached to me like glue,” he told The Epoch Times. He said the book protected him on the battlefield and even healed his PTSD after returning home. For Manygoats and other veterans, spirituality has served as more than a comfort for the faithful—it has provided transcendental protection in times of dire need. As leading psychiatrists are coming to understand, spirituality and religiosity are measurable factors that can mean the difference between coming home broken and coming home whole.

Forged in the Canyons

Every morning, before the sun peeked over the horizon of the red earth canyons in Arizona, young Manygoats would be jarred awake by his Navajo elders.

“Go run till the sun comes up,” they would tell him.

According to Manygoats, “Being a warrior was part of our culture.”

His great-great-grandfather, Jeff King, had been a Cavalry Scout, bridging the gap between the Native American tribes and the U.S. military during the era of Manifest Destiny. That same spirit would flow through generations. His grandfather served in World War II, his father in Vietnam, and Manygoats, as the oldest sibling, followed suit and became a Marine. Marching behind him, his two younger brothers would eventually join the Marine Corps, while his sister, affectionately known as “the oddball,” was set to join the U.S. Army.

With the warrior legacy coursing through his veins, Manygoats’s path seemed inevitable. He was 18 when he joined the Marines. Of 145 recruits in his boot camp, only 45 graduated—he was among them.

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Manygoats's Marine Corps bootcamp graduation on Feb. 14, 1996. Courtesy of Larrison Manygoats

Amid his military training, a change was taking place—not within Manygoats, at first, but with his father at home.

Three years into his Marine Corps career, Manygoats watched his once hardcore father become more gentle and compassionate. He even started to speak more thoughtfully than before. His father had begun practicing Falun Dafa, a spiritual meditation discipline centered on the principles of truthfulness, compassion, and tolerance. The shift was striking, and it sparked Manygoats’s curiosity.

Soon enough, his father passed on the small blue book—“Zhuan Falun,” the principal text of Falun Dafa—to Manygoats. Although Manygoats didn’t fully understand what the book was about, he knew one thing: The book was good and he had to carry it with him.

When he deployed to Iraq in 2006 with a military transition team, that small blue book never left his side. It accompanied him on every mission, every patrol, and through every moment when death seemed one heartbeat away.

Faith Under Fire

Stationed near Taji with just five or six soldiers, Manygoats served as a quick reaction force. As the point man, he intentionally drew enemy fire to protect his unit. He was fighting during the height of the Iraqi insurgency—it wasn’t just a regular battle.

“We were dealing with the terrorists of the world,” he said.

Through hundreds of missions, explosions, and whistling bullets, he didn’t have to take any lives, and more than that, he emerged without a single serious injury—a fact that he attributes to a force beyond luck.

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Manygoats keeping watch in Saab Al Bour, Iraq. Courtesy of Larrison Manygoats

In quiet periods between missions, hidden inside operating bases, Manygoats would pull out the blue book.

“Something in it kept pulling me in,“ he said. ”‘You can make it through’—something was telling me that.” Sometimes, he said, he could only read one line, and sometimes he’d “get lucky” and read two or three pages. The book provided a sense of meaning and a belief that something greater was watching over him.

Opening the Door to Nothing and Nobody

Like too many veterans, when Manygoats returned from Iraq in 2008 after two years of deployment, his hardest battle was just beginning.

“I had nothing left,” he recalled. “Wife gone, divorced, behind on bills, nobody taking care of me. No welcome home, no freaking parades—nothing. I came home to a completely empty house, and my mind wasn’t straight.”

The gap between military training and civilian readjustment proves hard for many veterans, and Manygoats was no exception.

“Everything that you ever feared is amplified [in war],” he said. According to him, those fears haunt you when you come back home.

Years on the front lines amid innumerable explosions and concussive blasts, followed by the emptiness of returning home, led to Manygoats being medically diagnosed and discharged with PTSD and traumatic brain injury. He suffered memory loss, physical tremors, and emotional volatility.

“My body and hands would start to shake,“ he said. ”My mind was talking, but my mouth wasn’t.”

Alone, with nothing left and a wounded brain, he felt the familiar weight of the blue book still in his pocket.

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Courtesy of Larrison Manygoats

Without the constant pressure of war, he began to calmly study the teachings and diligently practice Falun Dafa’s five exercises, which incorporate meditation, gentle movements, and spiritual cultivation. He felt a fundamental healing from within.

In less than one year, people began to tell him, “Wow, you look healthy.”

“When they found out I‘d been to war, they’d say, ‘You don’t look like a fighter,‘” he said. “’You don’t look like a warrior.’ They couldn’t believe how I recovered in such a short amount of time. That’s what Falun Dafa did for me.”

Manygoats’s memory improved, the tremors stopped, and he felt whole again.

Measurable Results

The Department of Veterans Affairs reports that approximately 17 veterans die by suicide every day. For Native American veterans such as Manygoats, the statistics are even more dire, with suicide rates exceeding national averages, sometimes by twice as much.

Dr. Donna Ames, a now-retired Veterans Affairs psychiatrist who once had more than 500 patients at one time, witnessed this tragedy repeatedly.

“Without purpose and meaning, people become hopeless,” she told The Epoch Times. Ames would speak to veterans and ask, “What’s your dream? What would you like to do?” She realized that they couldn’t see a future.

In her clinical practice, she helped veterans rediscover hope by moving beyond the traditional “here’s your pill” approach to embrace a holistic framework with meaning and purpose at its core.

Ames introduced movement-based practices such as tai chi, qigong, and dance to veterans.

“It was very well accepted, and patients really liked it,” she said. The practices helped patients connect with their bodies, regulate breathing, and achieve mindfulness, reducing anxiety and improving mood.

Above all, she saw beyond the anatomy and directly addressed their spiritual health.

“You’d see people with severe negative affect, who would never smile, start smiling,” she said. Some patients would say, “Why didn’t I meet you 10 years ago?”

An extensive body of evidence shows how spirituality is a critical pillar of health and traumatic recovery. Dr. Harold Koenig, director of the Center for Spirituality, Theology, and Health at Duke University Medical Center and professor of psychiatry and behavioral sciences, systematically reviewed more than 3,300 studies on spirituality and health spanning 150 years. His findings show that religious and spiritual practices provide measurable protection against trauma and PTSD.

“These studies show one after the other ... that the religious person is just doing better, and it’s way beyond just correlation,” he told The Epoch Times.

Koenig and his colleagues conducted a study on more than 3,000 veterans and found that lifetime PTSD was reported by 11.1 percent of those with low religious or spiritual involvement but by only 4.2 percent of those who were highly engaged—a 62 percent lower risk for the highly spiritual group.
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The effect of spiritual and religious engagement on lifetime PTSD prevalence among veterans. Illustration by The Epoch Times

“Religious beliefs provide a framework to live life in a way that leads to flourishing in all domains,” Koenig said. “They help people adapt, bounce back from severe trauma, and make sense of traumatic events by giving them meaning and purpose, even allowing potential for growth.”

He explained that social interaction may account for up to 25 percent of the benefits derived from spirituality, with meaning-making and developing hope being other explanations. In one of his 2020 studies, Koenig discovered that spirituality had a significant influence on hope, which later predicted whether veterans developed PTSD, depression, and anxiety. He said hope enables trauma survivors to imagine possibilities beyond their current pain. Without a forward-looking perspective, people can become trapped in their suffering.
For those working with veterans, Julie Exline, professor of psychology at Case Western Reserve University, who studies spiritual struggles, recommends evidence-based conversation starters: “Where do you find peace? What sustains you in the midst of troubles? What causes you the greatest despair?”

Serving Others

Further spirituality goes beyond oneself and flows outward by helping others.

Koenig supports a service-oriented approach to healing.

“You can’t get the flourishing if you go directly for it, but if you go for this goodness—serving others, practicing virtues—it leads to flourishing automatically,” he said.

This principle drove Manygoats’s next chapter. By summer 2013, he realized that he could help others on their path of recovery. He created a veterans support organization centered on wild horse therapy on the Navajo reservation near Tuba City, Arizona.

The facility, built and personally funded with help from his father and volunteers, consists of circular pens designed to facilitate healing for other veterans in his community. Through this work, he’s saved thousands of wild horses while creating a sanctuary for veterans who need what he once needed: a place to heal and the understanding that they’re not alone.

Closing the Circle

For Manygoats, his spiritual foundation provided what conventional treatments often miss: a sense of divine connection that filled the emptiness.

“Think of yourself as a circle with a hole,“ Ames said. ”When you have God in your life, your circle is closed. Without God, your circle is open, and you’re going to try to fill it with drinking, drugs, sex, money—but it will never satisfy.”

Her practical recommendations form a daily foundation: prayer or meditation, time in nature, and the cultivation of gratitude.

Today, Manygoats still carries his father’s blue book. The pages are soft and ragged now, and the sandwich bag has been replaced many times over, but the book’s power, Manygoats said, remains unchanged.

Correction: A previous version of this article misstated the number of Marine graduates. The Epoch Times regrets the error.
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