Why Bruce Lee Matters to Me
"Be water, my friend" changed how I approach business, conflict, and life itself.
Most people know Bruce Lee as a martial arts icon and action star. What captivates me is discovering that his physical mastery was grounded in deep philosophical thinking. Lee wasn't just a fighter who happened to say interesting things; he was a philosopher who expressed his ideas through movement. Jeet Kune Do, his martial arts system, was really an epistemology—a theory about how to know and respond to reality.
What draws me to Lee is his insistence on formlessness over technique, adaptation over tradition, direct expression over stylized performance. In a world that worships systems, methods, and best practices, Lee argued that true mastery means transcending all systems. Don't collect techniques; develop the ability to respond appropriately to each unique situation. This applies far beyond fighting—it's how to navigate complexity in any domain.
Lee also embodied fusion: he was Chinese, raised in Hong Kong, trained in Western philosophy at the University of Washington, and created a uniquely hybrid approach to martial arts and life. He refused to be confined by cultural or stylistic boundaries, taking what was useful and discarding what was limited. As someone who's lived across cultures and built businesses across industries, I recognize this pattern: the most powerful solutions emerge from synthesis, not purity.
About Bruce Lee
Born in San Francisco in 1940 and raised in Hong Kong, Lee was trained in Wing Chun kung fu from age 13. After moving to Seattle for college, he began teaching martial arts and developing his own philosophy. His demonstrations caught the attention of Hollywood; he appeared in The Green Hornet TV series and later revolutionized action cinema with films like Fist of Fury, Way of the Dragon, and Enter the Dragon.
But Lee's true legacy isn't his films—it's Jeet Kune Do, "the way of the intercepting fist," his philosophy of martial arts and life. Unlike traditional styles with fixed forms, JKD emphasized directness, simplicity, and adaptation. "Absorb what is useful, reject what is useless, add what is essentially your own," he taught. Lee died tragically in 1973 at age 32, just before Enter the Dragon made him an international superstar. His early death only intensified his legendary status and philosophical influence.
This is Lee's core teaching: adapt to circumstances without losing your essential nature. Water conforms to any container but remains water. It can be soft (flowing) or hard (crashing) depending on what's needed. This isn't having no form; it's having the capacity for all forms. In business, I've applied this constantly: be flexible enough to adapt to market conditions without losing core identity. Don't rigidly defend strategies; flow around obstacles, fill available spaces, crash through resistance when necessary.