Brandon Lee on martial arts training and knowledge:
“Well, I would say this: when you move down the road towards mastery of the martial arts—and you know, you are constantly moving down that road—you end up coming up against these barriers inside yourself that will attempt to stop you from continuing to pursue the mastery of the martial arts. And these barriers are such things as when you come up against your own limitations, when you come up against the limitations of your will, your ability, your natural ability, your courage, how you deal with success—and failure as well, for that matter. And as you overcome each one of these barriers, you end up learning something about yourself. And sometimes, the things you learn about yourself can, to the individual, seem to convey a certain spiritual sense along with them.
…It’s funny, every time you come up against a true barrier to your progress, you are a child again. And it’s a very interesting experience to be reduced, once again, to the level of knowing nothing about what you’re doing. I think there’s a lot of room for learning and growth when that happens—if you face it head on and don’t choose to say, “Ah, screw that! I’m going to do something else!”
We reduce ourselves at a certain point in our lives to kind of solely pursuing things that we already know how to do. You know, because you don’t want to have that experience of not knowing what you’re doing and being an amateur again. And I think that’s rather unfortunate. It’s so much more interesting and usually illuminating to put yourself in a situation where you don’t know what’s going to happen, than to do something again that you already know essentially what the outcome will be within three or four points either way.”
In an interview just prior to his death, Lee quoted a passage from Paul Bowles’ book The Sheltering Sky that he had chosen for his wedding invitations; it is now inscribed on his tombstone:
Because we don’t know when we will die, we get to think of life as an inexhaustible well. And yet everything happens only a certain number of times, and a very small number really. How many more times will you remember a certain afternoon of your childhood, an afternoon that is so deeply a part of your being that you can’t even conceive of your life without it? Perhaps four, or five times more? Perhaps not even that. How many more times will you watch the full moon rise? Perhaps twenty. And yet it all seems limitless…