Serendipity

Today, I want to do something a little different from my usual blog posts. I want to take you inside my mind—how my thoughts form, how I process them, and what influences have shaped this way of thinking.

We often look to heroes, but what if the real power lies in the ideas behind them? Growing up, I wasn’t just fascinated by people—I was fascinated by the thoughts that drove them. Where others idolized heroes, I idolized ideas. This made the people themselves more human, more relatable to me. Influential figures like Jet Li, Donnie Yen, Sammo Hung, Jackie Chan, and Bruce Lee weren’t just action stars to me—they were embodiments of philosophies that resonated deeply.

I immersed myself in the principles these individuals lived by. For every movie they made, I eagerly awaited the credits, because that’s when the behind-the-scenes footage would play. While most people watched for the action, I listened intently—not to what their characters were saying, but to what the real person behind the character had to say.

It wasn’t about the fame. It was about the way they spoke, their discipline, their philosophies on life. To me, they were humans navigating a difficult world, just like I was.

I never felt like I lacked representation. I never thought of myself as an Asian living in Canada. I understood that life was hard for everyone. Some people had opportunities, and some didn’t. Life was unfair to all of us, and that was okay—it was resilience that made the difference. These stars taught me that. Their physical strength was only a reflection of the mental fortitude needed to thrive in a challenging world.

I remember Jackie Chan once said in an interview that he made movies so he could play roles he’d never have the chance to play in real life—undercover cops, secret agents, mystical beings. He created his own opportunities because the world wouldn’t hand them to him. Inspired by this, I did the same. I didn’t wait for chances to come to me—I created them. And in that process, I was never left out, because I was too busy building my own path.

Bruce Lee, however, became my teacher in a different way. His philosophies in martial arts transcended the physical; they were blueprints for living a principled life. Every movie he made was more than just an action flick—it was a story about a man fighting for what he believed in. I began applying his teachings to my own life, stripping away the need for labels like religion or identity, and focusing instead on being the best human I could be.

It wasn’t just what Bruce Lee believed that influenced me—it was how he expressed those beliefs. His speech, filled with sophistication and elegance, became a model for how I wanted to communicate. He spoke with purpose, and that purpose drove me to refine how I wrote, how I spoke, and how I engaged with the world.

As I entered my 20s and 30s, I saw the power in speaking with mindfulness and clarity. Bruce Lee’s influence on my speech made me more conscious of the weight of words and how they shape the perceptions others have of us. Through him, I learned to communicate not just with strength, but with intention.

But here’s the thing—none of this was about idolizing the man. And that’s where many of us go wrong today. We’ve become obsessed with putting people on pedestals, turning them into idols. But people are human, and they are bound to make mistakes. When we idolize them, we set ourselves up for disappointment. What’s truly valuable is not the person—it’s the ideas they represent. It’s their philosophies, their beliefs, their way of viewing the world.

Do not look to people for idols. People are human—imperfect and bound to stumble. But ideas, when they resonate, can transcend those imperfections. Build upon those, and you can create something lasting.