Tag: family

“How Grandmaster Helped me to find my way back to my Father”

Posted on by taejoonlee

Testimonial By a Humbled Student

wallpaper-father-and-son-at-beach

I already knew that mentoring with Kuk Sa Nim would have been a deep experience, but the ability of the Grandmaster to know where to focus his attention and transmit his words really surprised me.

The knowledge, the depth, the experience of this man are prodigious. The many subjects we encountered in our conversation went from quantum physics to philosophy, with absolute simplicity. I only had to bring out the reason of my interior resentment, that is the absence of a relationship with my father, whom was never a father, to obtain from him a detailed analysis and the direction to overtake rage and fears, and to free myself from my own conditioning.

I only had to bring out the reason of my interior resentment, that is the absence of a relationship with my father, whom was never a father, to obtain from him a detailed analysis and the direction to overtake rage and fears, and to free myself from my own conditioning.

I felt necessary to let the GrandMaster know of the burden I had been carrying for many years. A real setback in my life: the total lack of any relationship with my father. That was a decision I had to make fifteen years earlier, after having realized throughout the previous years that he did not care about me at all. He did not want any fruitful communication with me; there had never been any exchange of love or transmission of life experience or know-how in the manner of a father-to-son relationship. I had tried many times to speak to him and draw his attention on me, but was never successful. I had also tried to write him a letter, the most important letter of my life, in which I made a point about us, explaining his typical behaviors and again tried to tell him of his faults. When he received the letter, he just sent it back with the postman…

I was left with no choice but to quit on my father, in order to protect me and leave him to the life he wanted, without me.

The Grandmaster came directly to the point, his words cutting on my conscience like a sharp sword: I had to forgive my father; go to him and tell him I loved him. I also had to do it quickly, being my father 76 years old: in case of any troubles with his health, shouldn’t I succeed in letting him know in due time, a permanent shadow on my soul would have crippled me for the rest of my life.

I tried to explain how hard that task was after so many years, but I didn’t need to: He knew it already. He said that a warrior must always be ready to take on heavy duties without never stepping backwards. He ordered me to do it, so that I should have done it even if I hadn’t agreed. He said that I had to do it not because my father deserved it, but because I deserved to be set free from my burden, from my self-imposed anguish.

At the end of our time together, I was definitely much shaken by His words and on the verge of crying. He came and gave me a warm hug and in that very moment I somehow felt his strength passing on to me. I knew He was right!

At the end of our time together, I was definitely much shaken by His words and on the verge of crying. He came and gave me a warm hug and in that very moment I somehow felt his strength passing on to me. I knew He was right!

We have to realize the huge privilege of being a part of the Hwa Rang Do Family: the Grand Master, such as all of the instructors, are following our growth personally, and they are interested in making sure that each one of us express the best that we can be and become a better man, a better warrior. “Empowering the world, one person at a time!”

Grandmaster Taejoon Lee gave me the hardest assignment of my life. He wants me to do it quickly, and then he wants to be informed of the developments. No chatters, no excuses, no blame, I just have to get busy and act. I’m not saying that I’ll be able to do it tomorrow, but I need to let Grandmaster Lee’s words and reflections change me from the inside and break down the thick walls that I felt I was forced to build in these many years. However, I’m sure of one thing: I know I’ll do it, I must.

He’s right: nothing in the world is more powerful than “Love”, and if we have even one single hope in one billion to make someone think and maybe change, we can only do it relying on that “Love” that we all have within us. All we need is the strength to express it.

He’s right: nothing in the world is more powerful than “Love”, and if we have even one single hope in one billion to make someone think and maybe change, we can only do it relying on that “Love” that we all have within us. All we need is the strength to express it.

“In almost fifty years I learnt more than four thousands way to hurt someone, but true greatness is in not using them and believing in Love”. I have no other words, but immense admiration and deep gratitude, to define our Grandmaster. I’ll try to be worthy of his teachings and to transform the great inspiration I received from him into reality.

Thank you and Hwarang forever!

My update:

It took me a few days to think over Grandmaster’s words and I was ready to accomplish my task, the hardest ever in my life, but still the most necessary.

I waited for the right time in which I could find my father at home, and I advised the Grandmaster that the following Sunday I would go and meet him. Kuk Sa Nim told me to go there and speak freely with no expectations whatsoever, in order not to be let down in case of possible negative reactions. He told me to let my words come right from my heart.

I felt very confident because of this wonderful direct communication with my Grandmaster and all the strength he was able to pass on to me!

The day came and I went to meet my father. He appeared to be in full possession of his intellectual capabilities but did not recognize me for at least half a minute.. for sure, by showing up before him I had put him way outside his comfort zone..!

I greeted him and told him I was at the end of a path and I just wanted to let him know I loved him.

He replied he had been waiting for that all these many years..

A thought came across my mind, that he would have waited until death if I hadn’t decided to come over and meet him. As far as I could remember, he always preferred deciding not to decide… Then, I remembered Grandmaster’s words to love with no expectations and to stay in the positive. So, I quickly I let go of that negative thought and focused on dwelling in the positive.

We then spoke for about 10 minutes. He asked me of my work and I asked him of his retirement. We exchanged our cellphone numbers and everything let me think we would be in touch again soon.

I had succeeded in forgiving him and started a new chapter of a father & son relationship, which I have longed for all of my life. And, finally it’ll have a chance to be good since I promised myself that I won’t bring up anything of our past and his faults – never, ever again.

I had succeeded in forgiving him and started a new chapter of a father & son relationship, which I have longed for all of my life. And, finally it’ll have a chance to be good since I promised myself that I won’t bring up anything of our past and his faults – never, ever again.

All in all, that is the essence of forgiveness. You do not forget (you never could!), you just go through it and expand.

I left him with some time to fully understand the reasons of my visit and after one week my father called me on the phone to invite me for lunch at his place. He would introduce me to the woman he lives with and to her family.

We spoke for more than twenty minutes; he was friendly and I got along well. I can now say that all conditions for the beginning of a new and finally fruitful communication are set.

I entirely owe this victory to the words and wisdom of Grandmaster Taejoon Lee. He taught me that with the necessary humility and determination and most of all with a kind, compassionate heart every goal can be achieved. Never retreat!

Thank You, Sir.
Hwarang forever and everywhere!

Yours faithfully,

Harmony = Grandmother

Posted on by taejoonlee

Grandma&Me

Hello Everyone;

First, Happy New Year of the Sheep! Suppose to be the year of luck & fortune. I wish you all the very best in the new Year.

I have been absent for a while and thought I would restart my blogging by sharing with you my eulogy for my grandmother at her funeral in 2001. She is the mother of the Founder of Hwa Rang Do®, Dr. Joo Bang Lee. I think this is very appropriate to my current state-of-mind, my state-of-being.

“With the passing of our grandmother, I have no more grandparents. I feel extremely sad and a great emptiness overwhelms me like never before. Maybe I am a little older now and understand more deeply the value of what grandparents mean. I know that she is reunited with grandfather and I should not feel this way. However, I cannot help to think about all that she was and all that I should have done.

Har Ma Ni (Korean for grandmother), harmony in English means a pleasing combination of elements in a whole. Harmani was just that. She complimented everyone and everything. I have never met a more selfless, gentle, kind and generous person. It amazed me how she was able to communicate with Americans who probably never heard Korean in their entire life, by speaking Korean to them and with a few gestures they all understood her (now I understand that to be her energy, her intention; words are meaningless). Sometimes I thought she was psychic.

Whenever her grandchildren would visit her, she would give us something from the little that she had. When I was younger, it was sometimes annoying, but as I grew older I appreciated her generosity. To give, whether she was wealthy or poor, hungry or full, happy or sad.

Her greetings hello or goodbye was, “Did you eat?” and with that she would pull something out of her fridge and offer it to us. When I was younger, I use to fight with her and say that it was okay (as most people who know me, I have had a terrible appetite all my life; but it shouldn’t matter) and she would not take no for an answer, but now I will miss her carving the few apples she had left to feed her grandchildren. Even while she was in the hospital, helpless, fighting for her life, nearly comatose, when I came to visit her, she would mumble, “Did you eat?” I do not think that our generation can truly understand why she did that. We can never understand the struggles of her life when she was young fleeing for her and her family’s life from North to South Korea during the war; when food was scarce and every night she would go to bed hungry, and every morning would wake worrying how she would feed her seven children. I am sure she would have offered a piece of her own body to feed her children if she could. But today, we are all spoiled and we take the basic necessities of life for granted.

She was able to see the good in all of us no matter how bad we were. She was always happy to see us and she never complained about her condition and everyone else always came first.

I try to live my life without regrets, but I do regret, very much. In the recent years before she passed away, being her eldest grandson, her greetings to me was, “When are you going to get married?” And I promised her that she will see my wife before she goes to see grandfather, but because of my stubbornness and self-righteousness, I could not. We are all stubborn, self-righteous, and selfish, but she showed us that there is no room for any of that; not within the family and for her, the world. She was a true Christian. (Grandmother, have not married yet so you didn’t miss anything)

I regret not visiting her very much, but in my own mind, I had these great plans of making a lot of money and giving her all the things she ever wanted and more. I was once again self-righteous and full of myself. I should have done more for her. I am very sad today because it took her death to make me realize that I should cherish and love my family today and everyday by showing them how much I love them and not when I am ready to.

I thank my grandmother for raising and educating such outstanding children, my parents, with the traditional values of honor, respect for elders, and selfless devotion to one’s children and family and these noble traditions, I shall try to emulate for the rest of my life, not only to my family, but to all my friends and students.

Lastly, when my grandfather passed away, I felt my uncles, aunts, cousins all drift apart. It is my hope that Harmani’s passing will bring about greater harmony between all of her children, grandchildren, and great grandchildren. (Of course this not manifest. How can harmony exist without harmani)

On behalf of all her grandchildren, I pray that God will give good care for my grandmother and we thank all of you for being present today to wish her farewell.”

She is my reference of serenity, calmness and true courage.
I will not promise,
I will not plan,
I will not strive,
I will not try,
I will be…

I miss you grandmother…

Grandmaster Taejoon Lee

A Dedication to My Hwa Rang Do Sons & Daughters.

Posted on by taejoonlee

Dedication

Sigh…

Oh how time has flown. It has already been 17 years since I first opened this school and with the help of my loyal pupil converted it from a tattered, left for dead Tae Kwon Do school, to a beautiful majestic space where my students and family can call it their second home. It has also been a long time since I actually had written a speech. However, this year, I feel compelled to write everything down as I don’t want to forget anything. I am definitely not a young pup anymore and sometimes my memory fails me.

There have been literally thousands of students who have passed through those doors and honored me with the opportunity to mold, teach, and yes sometimes, maybe often scold and discipline. There have been also, many parents who I have had the fortunate opportunity, actually some more than others, to meet, advice, and council. I have witnessed children wetting the matt floor to women stomping out of class in an emotional melt down. I have heard excuses ranging from “my dog ate my sash” to “I am an actor and the discipline here is stifling my creativity.” I have parents who have praised me with boundless love and support to parents who have resented me as their children obey me more than them. I have parents who have told me that they will move wherever I go as their child needs me to blaming me for spanking, later to find out that the child injured himself playing on the monkey bars. I have received gifts ranging from a sweatshirt that reads “I yell because I care” to a new oven to fuel my new hobby of cooking. I have enjoyed many triumphs and countless moments of joy and excitement, but most of all I have endured many heartbreaks and disappointments.

Beginning of this year, I was forced to readdress the aching question that has always lingered, ready to reveal itself in grand fashion in the deep recesses of my mind, but suppressed: first, when my bible studies teacher told me to “shut up” for asking too many questions when I was in my early teens; then later in college when I pursued philosophy and realized that it only sparked more questions than answers. So, I decided to live life and stop asking: Stop asking the existence of god, what is truth and what makes it true, what is the purpose of mankind, where did we come from, and if there was a god, then where did god come from, etc, etc…

I have resolved within myself that the only way to know the truth is to live life and experience as much as I can with a vigilant yet open mind, unafraid to be hurt, disappointed or disillusioned. I have traveled and done much throughout my life, gaining as much knowledge as I can soak up about people and their nature. Finally I decided to take root by opening this school in West LA. The last 17 years was challenging to say the least, but we have always found a way to persevere.

During the early part of this year, there were some eye-opening experiences that I am not going to get into for the moment, but lets just say that the desire to know the truth became more immediate than ever and it consumed my entire being. It shook my foundation and made me ask: how come we are in this global financial crisis where the dollar is worth nothing and the disparity of wealth is ever-increasing; how we have all globally agreed in this scam of using monopoly money; how come people are starving all over the world and we are facing a food crisis; why are we facing the shortage of oil with no replacement in sight; why if there have been so much more advances in technology that we could not find solutions to these problems; why with so many more institutions of higher learning, so many more college graduates, and professors that we cannot seem to resolve the core issues that affect the our continued survival; why are there more wars than ever before; and could we all be some lab experiment of a multi-dimensional being?

We are living in the information age and although it has helped us to live seemingly better lives, there are so much misinformation as well and it’s a monumental task to try to decipher what’s fact from fiction, what’s real from fantasy. I was scared for the first time in my life as my perceptions, my beliefs were tested and there was a brief moment where life became overwhelming, became meaningless and I lost my purpose. And, for me purpose is more important than food, without it I cannot continue to live. After many mornings of meditation and sleepless nights of reflection, I rose once more from what felt like was my burial. And once again it was Hwa Rang Do that has empowered me.

All the creed, all of our goals were more relevant and necessary than ever before. All the things that I have been preaching became imminent and I was called to take action. There’s no tomorrow, only today and what we do today dictates our future. I became more motivated and inspired to fulfill our goals of empowering the world one person at a time.

In a world where it seems that the public is consumed with consumption, not to the fault of their own, but all you have to do is look around you. The corporations are becoming multi-national conglomerates with deep pockets in DC with endless resources to make sure that they sustain their greed for money and power. There are so many ways that they can influence and infiltrate into our lives to create dependencies through fear and hedonism.

It’s all about the bottom line, it’s all about feeling good, it’s all about having the most toys before you die. The martial art industry is like all other industries with the same goals. The goal is to make the customers happy so you can increase retention and repeat business. Don’t give negative criticism, constructive or not. Diminish any activity that would give them a negative experience. Dumb everything down so that it’s easy to do and easy to learn. Make everything fun and enjoyable. Don’t get too involved with the student’s personal life. And definitely no knuckle pushups!

And, yes this is where I have failed as a martial arts entrepreneur. My goal has never been to make the students happy, my goal has always been to offer them strength to realize and love their true self by stripping away their ego, which only serves to comfort them with lies of self grandeur for self-preservation. My students were never my customers, they were students who needed to be taught what they lacked and needed. I have always believed in the balance of both positive and negative reinforcement, and as they got stronger and moved from Tae Soo Do to Hwa Rang Do, the negative reinforcement would prevail. The underlying message of only using positive reinforcement is that you can’t do anything; the underlying message of negative reinforcement is that you should know. What are we training them for? What is the real world like? Who needs training to deal with good experiences? We need training to deal with the bad, negative, painful experiences. So, how can our students learn to deal with the hardships and disappointments of life if they were never exposed to it and never had practice dealing with criticism, disappointments, and conflicts, which are predominant in the real world. This can also be seen in our educational system where in elementary schools, they do not even play games life musical chairs by saying “why should 1 kid win and 30 lose.” All we are doing by this is creating more bait for the sharks. And, I have no interest in raising my students as someone’s lunch.

Oh, don’t even get me started on drugging our children. You know how I feel about that.

No, I do not dumb things down by speaking in terms that children understand in gaga googoo language, but I expect them to learn Korean terminologies as their capacity for languages are best when they are young and it helps to stimulate their brain activity. No I do not demean the seriousness of martial training by making everything into a game that kids can play. How can we make martial training a game where one learns to hurt, injure, maim other people? How is that for fun? We must not delude the serious intent of our training, but rather use it to heighten their awareness and have them pay respect and reverence to what they are doing so that they are careful not to error. They must learn also to do things that are not so fun. Maturity is learning to do the things that you do not like, but in order to get ahead, you must do these compulsory tasks of our lives very well. We must first teach them what they need and then give them what they want. And, they must learn the self-discipline to do the things that they do not enjoy but are necessary.

I know all my students personally and by the time they have reached their Tae Soo Do Black Belt, I know them very well in all aspects of their lives. What is the satisfaction to teach a person how to throw a kick, a punch, to hurt another human being? The satisfaction comes from knowing that you have trained them to be self-disciplined to control themselves mentally, physically, and emotionally to present themselves in the best light possible to others and to extend themselves selflessly to help those in need. A good teacher tells a student what they should do and fix their mistakes when they occur; a great teacher shows the students what they should do and fixes the source of their mistakes so they never occur again.

In this era of uncertainty, which I thought would not happen in my lifetime, but maybe for the future generation, I too looked towards self-preservation and wanted to survive. I became selfish and tried to find ways to secure a better future. Should I make the curriculum easier; should I lower my expectations; should I not be so strict; should I get rid of the knuckle pushups; should I discipline less; should I, should I. For sure, I would be liked by more people, have more friends, less headaches and invited to more baby showers. Of course, there’s nothing wrong with that, but I was focused on me and if I saved myself, that’s only one life. Where is the nobility in that? No, I must commit to teaching better, harder, and more to as many people as I can. In that way I may help many to live better. This is what fear does to you. It makes you egocentric, egotistical, selfish, entitled and myopic. Only truly strong and fearless people can be selfless and devote their lives to a higher cause.

This week I attended a high school graduation of one of my Hwa Rang Do Black Sashes, She’s the only teenage female Black Sash that I have taught besides my sisters in the over 33 years I have been teaching. She graduated with honors from Elycee Francais and is accepted to UC Berkeley. As I was walking into the school, I saw some familiar faces and in particular a grandmother of two kids who were formerly my students. I have not seen them in many years as the girl stopped training after receiving her TSD Black Belt, but she is my girl’s best friend and her brother, who also trained when he was 6 or 7 was unrecognizable. He was 6’5”, at only 15 years old and already being recruited by colleges for basketball. I remember him being quite a handful as a little tiger. The grandmother walked over to me and was delighted to see me. She held my hand and said, “Thank you so much for all that you do for the kids.” I have not seen her in 7, 8 years and she left me speechless and as I was fumbling for words like, “ah it was nothing or was it I didn’t do anything.” Before I can say anything, she gave me a big hug and that meant everything to me.

Sitting there in the auditorium as I am trying to see where my girl was in the parade of incoming graduates, I realized that I could not find her. I could not see the cute 4 year old in ponytails. When I finally made her out, she was a beautiful young woman, tall, proud, and with make up and heels. Wow! It’s been 14 years already. And of course we never think of how old we are getting.

As I sat through the speeches from the president and the school faculty, I was reminded that I am not an island, that I am not alone. And you can’t imagine how refreshing that is for me. As the president spoke, what remains in my mind are these two statements; “we do not give compliments easily. They must be earned.” And “we have high standards for our students.” Awesome! I am thinking to myself as I nod in agreement. As she receives her diploma and her awards, I was filled with great joy and satisfaction. And it dawned on me, she was not my girl, not my daughter, but she might as well be. Although she was not my own, it would be the closest I would come to feeling the joy of raising a child.

As I watched her mingle with her friends, taking pictures, and congratulating each other, I was admiring how beautiful she was, how feminine, how delicate, then for a moment I thought to myself, “Oh I should have been easier on her” and that quickly changed to “No, and then, do these people realize that underneath that cover of beauty and femininity, lies a fierce warrior who can seriously kick some ass.” And that thought brought a comforting, satisfied grin across my face. I was genuinely proud of her and I guess I was gloating a little in hoping that my teachings took some part in helping her to be how she is today. However, the true testament of her success lies with the mother, Christina. There were many moments when Andrea, oh did I mention who this girl was, yes it’s Andrea Perez-Bertolotto.

As I was saying, there were many moments when Andrea wanted to quit Hwa Rang Do, especially when all her friends quit. To give you a perspective: in Tae Soo Do they average a belt test every 3 to 4 months, for Hwa Rang Do it takes a year to 1 1/2 and has ten times more the curriculum than Tae Soo Do. So it would take an additional 6 to 10 years to reach Black Sash. These were critical times in their early adolescence with so many distractions, so many new experiences and possibilities. However, Christina did not give her daughter the option of quitting, even after many arguments with her husband, who is in fact a Hwa Rang Do blue sash himself and should have known better, LOL!

And, let me tell you, and all my students know, I was definitely not easy on her even through those awkward years where her body is growing faster than she can handle. We live by the idea of “not looking for exceptions, but to be exceptional!” And that was my aim. I am sure there were many moments she cried herself to sleep and wanted it all to stop. Things did not get easier as she had to prepare for her black sash examination. To review hundreds if not thousands of techniques, moves, forms, fighting, weaponry, then perform them in front of an intimidating board of judges compromised of Dojoonim (our founder) and his high ranking masters, a 15 page minimum dissertation, 2 poems, 2 hour written exam with a mean score of 50 out of 100, power break though concrete slabs, and doing this with a demanding college prep work at school, not to mention that she is the only or one of a very few women in class, having to spar, grapple, and weapon fight 20 to 30 other male adults throughout most of her teen life. To say the least she did excellent and seemed to have breezed through it. I think I was more nervous than she was. I know I was more nervous.

Finally, I saw her prepare for her college entrance exams, interviews and the application process. She could have on any of these occasions asked to take a break, stop training; many have, for far less as breaking of a fingernail. But, she did not. She managed and juggled through all her responsibilities here, her school and family, never complaining, never losing her poise, her character. And neither did her mother.

Usually, by that age, I rarely deal with the parents and it’s even more rare that I receive any credit or compliment from them. I was delighted to have had a chance to chat with the mother, Christina, and I was truly moved that she gives me so much credit to Andrea’s successes. And it moved me even more when she continued to tell me that Andrea measures all her school teachers against me and complains why they are not like Master Lee. I must say this was big surprise! She went on to say that Andrea’s school teachers tell her that Andrea is a very special girl, especially when she’s able to bring a rowdy, loud, unruly class to attention by just standing, turn and give a deadly stare with the intensity partly of Grandmaster Lee and partly Andrea. The entire class comes to a silent attention. Yes, this is why I do what I do, talking to myself. Yes, this is what I must do. It had uplifted my spirits and I have regained my purpose.

There are countless other stories of my student’s successes and how their dedication and commitment inspires me. But, I will leave you with one more.

I have another student who started when he was 12, 13. He received his TSD Black Belt, graduated from Winward High, did his undergraduate work at Harvard, then got accepted into one of the most demanding MBA programs in the country at UC Berkeley, graduating with a second masters in Public Health. He had committed to me that he would change the healthcare system in this country for the better. He got recruited by McKensey & Company, the world’s leading management consulting firm, first working in Brussels and currently he resides and works in New York City. He is now a Hwa Rang Do 1st Dan Black Sash and one of my most loyal pupil, William Wright.

I received a disturbing call couple of weeks ago. It was unexpected and I thought it was about converting our organization to a non-profit, which he is heading. But, it was not. He started to mumble in a feeble voice, which I barely understood. So, I shouted, “What is it? Speak up!” and in my grand self I added “are you man or mouse.” I have never heard him speak this way. He was always so confidant, self-assured, and always positive.
He replied, “How do you do it sir?”

I said, “Do what?”

“How do you do it? How do you day in / day out, stick to your beliefs? How do you…

I stopped him. I did not need to hear more. He was growing up. His innocence is challenged and perceived by others as being naive. He is disillusioned on how his colleagues, supposedly with high intellect from the finest educational institutions in the world, perform their jobs with such inefficiencies, waste and without ethics. And, how his bosses stifle his ability rather than challenging him to outperform. He is lonely, his friendships were not as deep and meaningful; they are superficial at best. It broke my heart to hear him sound defeated.

As I have said many times, “Teaching is Parenting and parenting is teaching.” And that our parenting never stops. At first, it made me sad, that my child, my student was in pain. I wished it was me in his shoes instead, but that was quickly overruled by my desire to offer him strength and empower him.

During Andrea’s graduation they had a keynote speaker who was nice and made some good points, but to tell you the truth, it left me confused. To summarize I think he delivered a message that goes something like this – strive for your dreams and when you can’t achieve them, don’t’ worry because you’re better off for trying and that it’s ok to be a flea as many fleas can do big things.

So this speech is for my Hwa Rang Do daughter as she takes flight for the first time alone, I wanted to send her off with powerful winds under her wings so that she may soar to reach her final destination, however long and treacherous it may be.

I told my beloved Will and now to Andrea: You must find your passion.

It says in the World English dictionary that the definition of passion is:
1. ardent love or affection
2. intense (sexual) love
3. a strong affection or enthusiasm for an object, concept, etc
4. any strongly felt emotion, such as love, hate, envy
5. a state or outburst of extreme anger
6. the object of an intense desire, ardent affection, or enthusiasm
7. an outburst expressing intense emotion
8. philosophy
a. any state of the mind in which it is affected by something external, such as perception, desire, etc, as contrasted with action
b. feelings, desires or emotions, as contrasted with reason
9. the sufferings and death of a Christian martyr

Yes, to all the above except for #9. Yes I have done them all.

You must discover what you are passionate about and create a cause higher than yourself. “No Will, not about healthcare. Are you that passionate about healthcare? Will you sacrifice your life for healthcare? What are you truly meaning?”

“That’s right! Helping others, making the world a better place to live for everyone by instilling what is just, fair and good. You can die for that can’t you?” I asked.

“Yes sir!” He replied.

Healthcare is the means, the focus in which you will improve humanity, but your passion must be the intense love of humanity.

So I say, choose carefully in what your passion is then never relent, never listen to others, never give up! You are being forced or asked, coerced in compromising your principles. And why would you compromise? You want to win their favor, you want to be liked, accepted. You want to belong. This is quite natural, but this is why you are losing yourself as you are starting to sell off piece by piece your foundation and now you are standing and shaky ground.

I went on to say, “Don’t be afraid to lose everything. Don’t worry about losing your job, your girl friend, your friends, disappointing me, your parents, don’t worry! Stand your ground, stand by your principles and your beliefs and those who love you will understand you. Our fear of loss cannot be the basis of our decisions; it must be for only one thing, what is right, what is noble. Do no accept the status quo, be exceptional!”

As I was telling him all this, so too I was saying it to myself. These words are automatic for me. They come out without having to think about it. It is my core, it is my foundation. My students have unknowingly inspired and motivated me. As Randy Pausch has said, “It’s the indirect lessons we learn the most from.”

Well, my students have taught me an indirect lesson to persevere, to fight on!

No matter if there is a god or not. No matter if the world will end or not. No matter live or die. No matter rich or poor. We must persevere! We must fight onward! For we are Hwarang, flowering knights to beautify and empower the world.

So Will, Andrea, we have each other, we have our family. You are not alone! Together we must encourage each other and others to greatness and never shall we accept mediocrity.

Dream and dream big, then be relentless and never compromise in your principles. Don’t be afraid to be alone, for you are supported by 59 generations of warriors.

Hwarang Forever my beloved students – sons and daughters.

Grandmaster Taejoon Lee

Just got this email today, 5/31/16, and thought we would share:

Grand Master Tae Joon Lee, It is with my most respect and humility that i find myself writing to thank you for undulating the societal covers that have for many years hindered my life’s perception. Reading the above dedication brought tears to my eyes as i was replacing Andrea with my own son and feeling the emotions you described.

My son Michael will be turning 7yrs old this July and because he has been excelling scholastically will be skipping second grade. He is currently an Orange Belt in TaeSooDo in the Norwalk Dojang. My wife is a 3 year Breast Cancer survivor who 4 months ago also enrolled and is also a TSD Orange Belt. I am a 38 year old Mexico born and raised until the age of 8yrs. My father and I were enrolled in Tae Kwon Do during the mid 80’s when it was extremely popular. I don’t remember much about that time, however, i do remember that the training was hard and not made easy just because i was a kid. I remember seeing and practicing based on magazines where Supreme Grand Master Do Joo Nim would appear.

My family migrated to the United States of America and with that transition my martial arts training ended. Been alone and unguided due to my father constantly working to provide for my mother and 3 younger sisters, I felt the need to belong, but where would I go, if I do not know anybody and i’m still a kid. School was the only place I had to socialize, however, without a strong foundation, it is easy for a kid to mold to what is easiest and not always best.

Meeting my wife and having our son has made me mature in a way that I never thought I would. I have stopped bad habits that damaged my body and mind. I was searching for something greater and 5 months ago I found it. It started with the enrollment of my Son, then one month later the enrollment of my wife, and finally, I will be enrolling in TSD this week. I am greatful to have found Hwarangdo yet again, and this time with a strong Foundation and Believes, My Family and I should one day make you proud of been Hwarangs.

You are an Inspiration to me.
Thank you Very Much.
Salvador Tinajero Lugo.

A Hwarang’s Reflections on his Journey Toward Happiness

Posted on by taejoonlee

A Tough Truth to Swallow:

“Nobody needs you. Seriously, you’re not that important so get over it.”

We often find ourselves overwhelmed, carrying the weight of responsibility, convinced that without us, everything we hold dear—our families, loved ones, careers, and businesses—would crumble. This belief, while deeply ingrained in us, is a source of immense stress and anxiety. But the reality is far different: life goes on, with or without us. The uncomfortable truth is that all things, and all people, are ultimately replaceable. When we are no longer here, our families, children, spouses, and businesses will continue. They may not function exactly as we would have envisioned, but they will endure, adapt, and move forward.

Understanding this is both humbling and liberating. It encourages us to shift our focus from the fear of what will happen in our absence to the blessing of the present moment. We are here, now, and that is a gift. Instead of being consumed with worry over the future, we should embrace today with gratitude, do our best to live joyfully, and help those around us. What matters most is the quality of the time we have, not the fear of how things will unfold once we’re gone.

However, accepting this truth is no easy task because it forces us to confront and dismantle our ego. Much of our self-worth is tied to the belief that we are essential, that our value is defined by how many people rely on us. We measure our importance by the roles we play—provider, caretaker, leader—and the belief that others would be lost without us. But once we strip away this illusion, we see that while people may want us around, their ultimate happiness, survival, and success don’t depend on us. Their lives, their joy, their sorrow—all of it—is a reflection of their own choices and self-determination.

This isn’t to suggest that our presence doesn’t matter or that our contributions don’t have significance. We are social beings, and our connections to others are meaningful. But recognizing that we are not the cornerstone of anyone’s existence allows us to approach life from a place of freedom rather than fear. It enables us to love and support others without being weighed down by the crushing responsibility of thinking that everything depends on us.

So, the challenge lies in letting go of the ego, in dissolving the false narratives we’ve built about our irreplaceability. This doesn’t mean we shouldn’t care for others or neglect our responsibilities. On the contrary, when we release ourselves from the illusion of being indispensable, we free ourselves to truly give, to be present without the burden of fear. And in doing so, we can experience life more fully, savoring the present, doing our best, and trusting that the future—whether we are here or not—will take care of itself.

Ultimately, life is not about how many people need us. It’s about how we show up in the moments we’re given. It’s about living with purpose, helping others from a place of love, and accepting that while our presence is valuable, it is not the foundation on which everything rests. Life, and the lives of those we love, will continue, shaped by their own strength, resilience, and choices.

The more we accept this, the more we can release ourselves from the weight of unnecessary guilt and pressure, and live with greater peace, joy, and fulfillment.

This truth hit me hard during an emotional moment with one of my students. Overwhelmed by the crushing weight of guilt and responsibility, he broke down in tears and said something that I will never forget: “I hate my parents. I want to die, but I can’t because I have to take care of them.” His words, born out of pain, encapsulated the internal conflict many endure—especially firstborn sons raised in traditional cultures. The idea of being bound by duty, trapped between personal desires and familial obligations, can become an unbearable burden. His confession echoed something I’ve encountered in my own life: the conflict between personal fulfillment and meeting the expectations of those who raised and shaped us.

This incident forced me to reflect deeply on my own experiences. I, too, have struggled with the weight of responsibility. I know all too well the feeling of being inadequate, knowing that no matter how hard I try, I may never completely meet my parents’ expectations. It’s a suffocating pressure, one that can turn love and respect into feelings of guilt and even resentment. But as I reflected on my student’s words, I realized that I never want my sense of responsibility to become the source of my own pain or misery. I refuse to let it destroy my inner peace or steal my joy.

Many people, unable to cope with this heavy burden, fall into a cycle of blame. They point fingers at their parents, accusing them of being the source of their misery. Some sink so deeply into this despair that they carry it with them into adulthood, growing resentful and, in extreme cases, suicidal. But I have chosen a different path. I realize now that it’s not our parents’ fault for wanting the best for us. They raised us with the hopes of giving us a better life than they had. It’s natural for parents to want to see their children succeed, but the weight of those expectations can sometimes become overwhelming.

Instead of blaming them, I choose to love and accept my parents for who they are—flawed, human, and doing their best with the tools they had. But more importantly, I recognize that I am responsible for how I interpret and carry my obligations. The burden of responsibility is not inherently destructive; it’s the way we perceive it that matters.

So, I decided to shift my mindset. Instead of telling myself, “I have to take care of my family”, “I have to work”, or “I have to care for my children”, I began telling myself “I choose to do these things”. This shift is subtle, but its impact is profound. It changes the narrative from one of obligation to one of empowerment. By reframing responsibilities as choices, we restore our agency. Instead of feeling trapped, we can embrace our roles with purpose and positivity.

This mental shift also helps us realize that the energy we put into the world shapes our experience. Negativity breeds more negativity, creating a vicious cycle of resentment and discontent. Conversely, positivity attracts more positive outcomes, reinforcing a healthier outlook on life. Life may not be a literal magnet, but our attitude certainly influences the way we navigate it. When we choose to approach our duties with a sense of agency and gratitude, the burdens don’t disappear—but they do become more manageable.

That said, I am not advocating for abandoning our responsibilities or only seeking personal happiness. True fulfillment comes from serving others, especially when we do so selflessly. What I’m suggesting is that we release ourselves from the inner pain of feeling like we’re failing if we don’t meet every expectation placed on us. The guilt we carry from not being able to fulfill every role perfectly is what often drains us.

To effectively care for others, we must first find contentment and peace within ourselves. If we are not happy, if we are consumed by guilt or weighed down by unrealistic expectations, we can’t give our best to those who depend on us. Instead of agonizing over what might happen without us or worrying about falling short, we need to focus on taking meaningful action. Worry is an endless loop—it doesn’t solve problems. Only action can lead to real change.

For me, this journey has led to one of my hardest realizations: accepting that the things I hold most dear, like Hwa Rang Do, will exist and continue without me. It’s difficult to accept that the legacy I’ve spent a lifetime building will go on after I am gone. But this realization has also brought me a sense of peace. Instead of fighting against it, I’ve chosen to embrace it. I now focus my energy on ensuring that my legacy not only survives but thrives, even in my absence.

This shift has allowed me to let go of the fear of being replaced or forgotten. It has opened the door to greater clarity, allowing me to focus on the present and to build something enduring—something that will continue to inspire and uplift others long after I am gone.

By reframing our sense of duty as a choice and freeing ourselves from guilt, we allow ourselves to serve those we love with a full and open heart. Rather than being a source of pain, our responsibilities can become a pathway to fulfillment and joy. It all starts with changing how we see the weight we carry.

In my younger years, the weight of expectations was a driving force. It fueled my ambition, pushing me to achieve, to surpass every obstacle, and to strive for greatness. The burden was heavy, but I wore it as a badge of honor, convinced that fulfilling those expectations was not only necessary but noble. At the time, it seemed that my self-worth depended on how much I could accomplish, how well I could meet the standards set by others—be it my parents, my mentors, or even society at large. I believed that the harder I pushed, the more worthy I would become.

But now, as I reach mid-life, I’ve come to realize that this same drive, which once propelled me forward, has transformed into an anchor, pulling me down into the depths of doubt, exhaustion, and disillusionment. The ambition that once filled me with purpose has, over time, turned into a constant reminder of how much further I have to go—how impossible it is to meet everyone’s expectations, including my own. The weight I once carried proudly has now become a burden, sinking me slowly like a ship taking on water.

I see clearly now that much of my unhappiness stems from clinging to these impossible expectations—those imposed on me and those I’ve imposed on myself. The constant striving to be more, to do more, to be everything for everyone has drained me of joy and left me feeling inadequate, no matter how much I achieve. It’s as if I’ve been aboard the Titanic, believing that if I just worked hard enough, I could somehow save the ship from sinking. But the truth is, no amount of effort can keep it afloat because the ship was destined to sink under the weight of those unrealistic demands.

So, I’ve made the conscious decision to cut myself free from this sinking ship. I am choosing to let go of the need for perfection, the need to meet every expectation, the need to be everything for everyone. I realize now that this constant striving, this relentless pursuit of external validation, was never going to lead me to fulfillment. Instead, it only ensured that I would keep chasing an elusive goal, always out of reach.

Now, I am beginning to build a new ship—one that isn’t weighed down by the burdens of the past, by the need to prove myself, or by the pressure to meet impossible standards. This new ship is crafted from hope, reconciliation, and acceptance. Hope for the future, not as something to be feared, but as something to embrace. Reconciliation with my own limitations, with the understanding that I am enough as I am, and that my worth isn’t tied to how much I achieve or how perfectly I fulfill others’ expectations. And most importantly, acceptance—acceptance of myself, of my journey, and of the fact that life’s true meaning isn’t found in meeting every demand placed on us, but in living authentically and with purpose.

Letting go of this burden doesn’t mean abandoning my responsibilities or giving up on striving for excellence. It means no longer allowing the weight of external pressures to define me. It means moving forward with a clearer sense of who I am and what truly matters. I now focus on building a life that reflects my values, not just the expectations of others.

This process of letting go and rebuilding isn’t easy. It requires unlearning deeply ingrained beliefs and reimagining what success and fulfillment look like. But I’m committed to this new journey—a journey where peace, love, and humility guide me, instead of fear, pressure, or the never-ending chase for approval.

I am still striving, but for something different now. I strive to live a life of meaning and connection, rooted in self-compassion and understanding. I strive to build something that isn’t just about external success, but about internal peace. This is the new ship I am crafting, and it will carry me forward—lighter, freer, and more aligned with the life I truly want to live.

And all of this became possible only when I embraced the humility to surrender to the Will of God—a humility that didn’t come easily or quickly, but one that I’ve gained through the hard-earned wisdom of half a century of struggle. Over the years, I’ve fought, resisted, and at times even rebelled against the currents of life, convinced that sheer willpower and determination alone could lead me to fulfillment. But it was only when I finally let go of the illusion of control—when I surrendered to something greater than myself—that I began to understand the deeper purpose for which I was created.

Surrendering to God’s will doesn’t mean abandoning effort or resigning oneself to fate. Rather, it is about aligning my heart, my intentions, and my actions with a higher, unshakeable Truth—a Truth that is constant, like the North Star, guiding me through the storms of life. Without this firm belief, without the foundation of Truth, it doesn’t matter how far or fast we travel, how much we strive, or how hard we push; we remain adrift in an endless ocean of uncertainty. We may expend tremendous energy and cover great distances, but without that inner compass, we are like a ship without a destination—always moving, but never arriving.

For years, I was that ship—pushing through the waves, traveling far and wide, but never finding a true port of peace. The exhaustion of trying to navigate life on my own terms, under my own limited understanding, left me weary and disillusioned. I was always reaching for something just beyond my grasp, always chasing a horizon that seemed to retreat the closer I came to it. It wasn’t until I surrendered to God’s purpose for me—until I acknowledged that His plan is far greater than my own—that I began to feel anchored and steady, no longer lost at sea.

This surrender isn’t passive; it’s an active, daily commitment to trust in the divine wisdom that orchestrates the universe. It requires faith in the unfolding of life, even when I cannot see the full picture. It requires humility to accept that I am not the master of my own destiny, but rather a vessel, guided by a purpose that transcends my own desires, ambitions, or fears. And it requires courage to let go of the need for control, to stop clinging to the familiar but futile pursuit of external validation, and instead to trust that I am being led exactly where I need to be.

Through this surrender, I have found a sense of peace that I never knew was possible. It is a peace that comes not from the absence of challenges or struggles, but from the deep, abiding knowledge that I am on the right path—that I am moving toward a destination that is meaningful, eternal, and aligned with the purpose for which I was created. And this purpose is not something I can fully understand with my limited human mind; it is something that I trust with my heart and soul.

Without this foundation of Truth, life becomes an endless chase—always striving, always seeking, but never finding. We can travel far, we can work tirelessly, and yet without that inner compass, we remain lost, adrift in a sea of confusion, endlessly searching for something we can never attain on our own. The more we strive to control the outcome, the further we drift from the peace we seek. But when we anchor ourselves in God’s will, when we allow Truth to guide us, we find that we no longer need to chase; instead, we are drawn naturally toward our true purpose.

This is the profound realization that has transformed my life. It has allowed me to stop battling the waves and instead navigate with grace, trusting in the direction I am being led. And with this trust comes a freedom I never imagined—a freedom from the weight of unrealistic expectations, a freedom from the pressure to constantly prove myself, and a freedom from the fear of failure. I no longer need to fear drifting aimlessly because I am anchored in something far greater than myself. I am anchored in God’s purpose for me, and that is where I find my peace, my direction, and my fulfillment.

With love, peace, honor, and humility,

Grandmaster Taejoon Lee