Pt2: What’s Your Stance?

In martial arts, we often talk about stance—but it is far more than a position of the body. Just as we take a stance in combat, we take a stance in life.

And that stance says everything about who we are.

Your stance is what you stand for. It is your values, your beliefs, your boundaries, your standards. It is not given to you by another—it is something you must come to know for yourself. And for me, this is one of the great purposes of martial arts: to understand one’s own stance clearly, truthfully, and courageously.

But this is only part of the equation. Because stance without a guiding light feels hollow. The other question I often ask—of myself, and those who train with me—is: 

What is your driving force?
What is that spark within you?
What is it that keeps you going—regardless of outcomes, recognition, or approval?

This is not the surface-level desire we often associate with ambition. I am not talking about the desire for trophies or belts. I am speaking of that deep, inner longing to become. The quiet but relentless urge to grow, to understand, to express something fundamental and unique within you. In its truest sense, this is what desire was always meant to be: the essence longing to reveal itself.

For me, my own stance and guiding light have become clearer over time—but they weren’t always. They emerged, as many things do, through years of training, reflection, and teaching. Personally, my stance today is rooted in a belief in freedom and equality. In the continual betterment of the individual, and in the ongoing elevation of society. I believe in personal transformation—but not at the cost of collective harmony. And I believe in collective good—but not by sacrificing personal truth.

Martial arts taught me this. Or rather, martial arts revealed it. Because the art does not impose meaning—it uncovers it. And that is why I believe the martial artist must walk a path that is deeply personal, yet universally resonant. You must find your way, walk it authentically, and then—through your being—help others to do the same. Not by instructing them to follow your steps, but by showing what it means to walk your own.

That is what I see as the role of the martial artist. Not to dominate. Not to impress. But to embody.

To be someone who, simply by how they move, speak, and live, gives others permission to become themselves more fully. It is, in many ways, the opposite of control. It is presence. And it requires discipline, but not just physical discipline. The deeper discipline is in not abandoning yourself. Not compromising who you are for the sake of convenience or conformity.

But the path is not easy.

There is a real danger, particularly for those of us who teach, to confuse our own path with the path. To assume that what has worked for us must be right for all. But true mastery is not found in replication—but in supporting recognition. It’s in seeing that each person must uncover their own stance, their own guiding light.

That is one of the reasons I’m so passionate about Wing Tsun. It’s not based on a rigid dogma - it’s based on teaching principles. And principles that must be interpreted and expressed uniquely by each practitioner – accompanied by a framework, method and structure to help you get thee best out of them.

At our Kwoon in Bromley, we don’t train people to become copies of their teacher. We train them to become themselves, fully. For me, that is the essence of the art. Ultimately, martial arts is not a path of uniformity. It is a path of personal alignment.

This is where the yin and the yang come in. The inward journey of reflection—of looking honestly at who you are, what you feel, what you value—and the outward journey of refinement—of expressing that understanding through action, movement, and discipline. The internal and the external, the being and the doing. These are not opposites—they are partners and co-creators.

When they are truly integrated, it shows. Anyone who has met someone like this knows it. There is a calmness, a confidence, a clarity that does not come from ego—but from knowing. They do not need to prove themselves, because they are already standing where they need to stand. And they do not need to follow others, because they are already moving in alignment with who they truly are.

Few things in life are more beautiful.

Sifu