In early 1965, Bruce Lee’s father died. He was summoned to Hong Kong to attend the funeral and deal with the estate.
The young Lee family didn’t have much money at the time. Bruce was 24 years old. He and his wife Linda had only married the previous August, and their son Brandon was merely a few weeks old. They hadn’t even gone on a honeymoon yet, nor had they been able to afford “proper” wedding rings.
In Hong Kong, however, many goods were cheaper than in the United States. Perhaps for this reason, perhaps to distract himself or, as we all sometimes do, to spite his challenging finances, Bruce spent a good deal of his month-long trip shopping for gifts for his wife and family.
He scouted for a diamond ring for Linda. He worked on getting her a wig made of real human hair, a hot item in fashion at the time. Lee even thought of his mother-in-law. However, since long-distance phone calls were expensive, Lee’s communication with his family happened mostly via letters, and that made aligning everyone’s requests with the right appointment at the right vendor a challenge.
But, as ever, Lee was not discouraged. In one letter, he told Linda: “I have a purse for your mother and if financial situation allows I might be able to pick up more stuffs for her. I’ll try but you know the U.S. Customs, not to mention money problems. I’ll use my judgment.”
“I’ll use my judgment.” When’s the last time you heard that phrase? Have you ever? And, more importantly, did you trust whoever said it to do so? Here’s a man writing to his family thousands of miles away, saying, “I know money is tight right now, but I still want to treat you and make the most of this opportunity for it. So don’t worry. I won’t go crazy. I’ve got this.” Of course, back in the day, Linda had little choice but to trust her husband—yet I’d like to think she would have done so regardless.
“I’ll use my judgment.” The phrase reminded me how little trust we often extend to one another these days—and how little confidence we usually have in our own ability to make sound decisions. But even 60 years after Bruce’s trip, there’s still plenty of need for both in the world.
Yesterday, I watched Pat Flynn complete a Pokémon card collecting challenge. His goal was to obtain a full set of over 250 cards in a single day during a convention. As always, Pat traded and received help from many people along the way. At one point, he gave a 10-year-old kid $400—a literal Mount Dollar-est for a child of his age—to go and restock his trade binder so he could make more deals. “I trust you!” he told the young boy. What a vote of confidence! Only a short while later, the kid returns with a big stack of great cards, which Pat can immediately swap with some other folks for more of the Pokémon he needs to complete his challenge.
In many ways, our access to infinite, real-time information has made us hypersensitive. We tend towards distrust, worry, and micromanagement. But just because we can see everything, everywhere, all at once, that doesn’t mean it’s all relevant to us. In fact, a man without a smartphone who doesn’t do long-distance phone calls and mostly writes letters to communicate can, even today, go through life without major complications. And if that’s not inspiration enough, empowering our kids to become emotionally self-sufficient adults should definitely do the trick.
Money, fame, cool hobbies and good deals, even life itself—it all comes and goes. Use your judgment, and you’ll be fine. I have complete faith in you.
