The Warrior Philosopher: "Truth"

Discover how the pursuit of truth, self-mastery, and living with integrity can transform not just martial artists, but anyone seeking deeper meaning and clarity in a world full of illusions.

It's remarkable how a single moment, like watching Bruce Lee's Fist of Fury, can shape the course of a life. I was thirteen, growing up in a small town, and like countless others, I was captivated by his raw power, his effortless skill, but most of all, by his message. There was a deeper truth behind his punches and kicks—a belief that anyone willing to put in the work could transcend their perceived limits. That lesson stayed with me, echoing quietly through the years. Lee wasn’t just showing how to fight well; he was teaching us that through discipline and self-mastery, the ordinary can become extraordinary.

Back then, there wasn’t a martial arts training hall for miles. All I had was a worn-out manual and a lot of trial and error in my living room. That old Kung Fu book, with its yellowed and brittle pages, is still with me—a reminder of those early days when I was learning from scratch. The movements didn’t always come naturally, but something about the pursuit itself made every bruise and mistake worth it. I wasn’t just learning to fight; I was learning how to navigate life and find my own strength.

But it wasn’t only Bruce Lee who influenced me. I was glued to the TV, watching Kung Fu and the story of Caine, the orphan trained in a Shaolin monastery. He fought, of course, but what stayed with me was his constant reflection, the way he carried his teachings of his master with him—not just in combat, but in every decision, he made. His lessons were philosophical—victory wasn’t just about defeating an opponent; it was about understanding yourself, knowing when to act and when to hold back. That connection between martial arts and philosophy became something I craved. The more I practiced, the more it became clear: fighting without understanding the "why" behind it would always feel empty.

This story began over fifty years ago, and now they call me the master. True mastery, I can tell you, lies in reflection, discipline, and self-awareness. So, read carefully—you might discover something deeper than what’s on the surface.

Over time, I realized martial arts was more than a physical discipline; it was a mirror reflecting the internal battles we face. As I delved deeper into it, the connection between martial arts and the search for truth became inseparable. Life itself, I saw, is a series of conflicts—external, yes, but often internal. And if I couldn’t master the struggles within my own mind, mastering anything else seemed impossible.

Truth, for me, became more than an abstract concept. Martial arts, like philosophy, demands clarity—an honest assessment of where you stand and what you believe. You can’t fake your way through a fight; every misstep, every opening, reveals the truth of your readiness. And that’s life, isn’t it? Every time we try to sidestep reality, it catches up to us, often in painful ways. I remember Caine’s master once saying, “Life is but an illusion.” At thirteen, I didn’t get it. Now, decades later, I’m still unravelling its meaning.

As time went on, the search for truth became central to my journey. There are so many kinds of truth, and it’s easy to get lost in them. Objective truth—those undeniable facts—remain constant whether we accept them or not. The sun rises in the east. A properly thrown punch will land. Then there’s pragmatic truth—the kind that helps us navigate everyday life. We trust it, like bringing an umbrella when the sky looks ominous. It’s not perfect, but it works often enough.

And then there’s subjective truth—the personal truths we cling to because they feel right to us. You might love apples and think they’re the best fruit, and I might disagree. Neither of us is right or wrong; it’s just perspective. But things get messy when people confuse subjective truth with objective truth. When “my truth” starts standing in for the truth, that’s when clarity is lost. It’s everywhere these days—people justifying actions or beliefs because it’s “their truth,” even when it contradicts reality.

That’s when I began thinking about the deeper implications of truth, especially in the context of martial arts and life. It’s one thing to hold a personal belief, but when that belief obscures reality, we lose our grounding. Bruce Lee, Caine—those early influences—weren’t just teaching us to fight. They were showing us how to see the world clearly, without the fog of self-deception. That’s the essence of being a warrior philosopher.

Living in alignment with truth isn’t easy. Solzhenitsyn understood this; his words echo in my mind: “To stand up for truth is nothing. For truth, you must sit in jail.” Facing reality is often a heavy burden. We’d rather stay comfortable in the stories we’ve built around ourselves. John Pilger’s warning about “official truths” being powerful illusions feels especially relevant today. We’re bombarded with half-truths and lies, and it takes real effort to cut through the noise and see what’s real.

But that’s the task of a martial artist and a philosopher—to have the courage to ask “Why?” and keep asking until the answers are grounded in reality. Not the convenient truths we wish were true, but the hard, unyielding truths that don’t bend to our will. It’s not just our own illusions we have to confront—there are also the lies others tell, the manipulations of those in power to serve their agendas. These falsehoods are crafted to resemble reality, making it harder to discern truth from illusion.

When we finally confront these truths—whether about the world or ourselves—it often comes with pain. It’s like burning off “deadwood,” as Dr. Jordan Peterson says. It’s not pleasant, but it’s necessary.

And so, here I am, still on this journey, still learning to strip away the illusions. It’s a lifelong process, this search for truth, and it requires a kind of strength not everyone is willing to cultivate. But it’s the only way to live authentically. We can’t hide behind illusions if we want to live with integrity. If we’re serious about walking the path of a warrior philosopher, we have to face reality, no matter how difficult. We must constantly ask ourselves if we’re seeing things as they truly are, or simply as we want them to be.

Ultimately, truth is what grounds us. It’s the foundation of a meaningful life. And if we can commit to that, to living in alignment with what is real, we’ve already won half the battle. The rest is just practice.

As I reflect on this journey, one experience stands out—an encounter with a mature student who had built his own version of the truth. He was struggling in his martial arts training, but in his mind, everything was fine. No matter how much feedback I gave him, he wouldn’t listen. He had convinced himself that his progress was solid, that his technique was improving, and that he was on the right path. While he had good friends in the dojo, he wasn’t well respected for his martial arts commitment or prowess.

He had constructed a comfortable illusion, one that allowed him to avoid the discomfort of facing his shortcomings. It took some painful self-examination on his part to finally see the truth for what it was. He had to confront his lack of progress and accept that his perception had been clouding reality. But once he did, that realization allowed him to grow—not just as a martial artist, but as a person.

I recently watched an interesting video clip where someone was recounting a conversation with Bill Clinton. In it, Clinton shared a sharp insight into why certain things resonate with people. He said, “You want to know why that worked? Because it was real. And if it wasn’t real, we thought it was real.”

That statement struck me. It perfectly captures how politicians manipulate perceptions. It’s not always about presenting the absolute truth, but about crafting an illusion so convincing that people believe it’s true. This is how they shape reality—by controlling what we perceive, not necessarily what is.

Recognizing this phenomenon—that reality can be manipulated through perception—forces us to confront an uncomfortable truth: those in power often craft not what is real, but what they want us to believe is real. Politicians, in particular, are architects of illusion, skilled in shaping narratives that play to our emotions and biases, diverting us from what truly matters. The stories they spin are not always lies, but half-truths, designed to obscure the bigger picture. This is why no one in a position of authority—whether politician, media figure, or corporate leader—should ever be granted unquestioning trust. To do so is to hand over our perception of reality to those whose motivations may not align with the truth.

Blind faith in authority is dangerous. The line between truth and illusion is easily blurred, and in that space, manipulation thrives. Power doesn’t always need to deceive; it merely needs to distract, to distort, to nudge us away from the truth in ways so subtle that we don't realize we've been misled. This is why we must remain vigilant. We can no longer afford the luxury of passive acceptance. Instead, we must question relentlessly, seek the facts beneath the surface, and refuse to be swayed by crafted appearances.

In a world where agendas drive perception, truth becomes a scarce and precious commodity. It’s our duty to pursue it—not just for ourselves, but for the integrity of the world we live in. To guard against the illusions that surround us is to fight for clarity in a fog of deception. And in that fight, the stakes are nothing less than our own ability to see reality as it is, not as others would have us believe.