I don’t want to launch into a spiritual, philosophical, religious, or even scientific tirade, but I’d like to start this conversation with a question—a hypothetical, if you will:

What if every conversation you had was treated as a sacred event?

Whatever "sacred" means to you—what if you regarded the person you were talking to and the subject matter as sacred?

• How would you respond? 
• How would you talk? 
• How would you listen? 

I think the answers would likely include a lot of respect, perhaps even reverence, care, compassion, curiosity, objectivity, and, most importantly, connection.  

I know this is challenging because we tend to judge the people we’re talking to, classifying them as undeserving of our reverence simply because they disagree with us. This is a critical point—the practice is not just about seeing the conversation as sacred but also viewing the person you are speaking to with the same reverence—as a sacred being. 

Listening as a sacred event is not a new concept. It is deeply rooted in the Aboriginal spiritual practice of “Dadirri”, a term from the Ngan'gikurunggurr and Ngen'giwumirri languages. Dadirri reflects the practice of deep, reflective listening and quiet, still awareness. It is about being fully present, attuned to the natural world and the sacredness within and around us, and fostering a profound sense of connection, empathy, and understanding. Dadirri encourages stillness, patience, and heartfelt engagement with others and the environment. 

Now, back to my original question: What if listening itself was a sacred event? How would you listen?

My next questions and what I would like to discuss during this month’s gathering are:

Is it possible to see everything and every conversation as sacred? If you could, how would that change your life? How would it change your holiday gatherings?

Looking forward to having this discussion….

This discussion will be held on Zoom 12/4 from 6:30-7:30 pm PT. To participate, email team@andresalvage.com for link.

When companies enlist my help to mend their DEI programs, address an increase in HR complaints, or advance the group’s cultural sensitivity, the initial step is to establish a common goal.

On November 6th, the day after our national election, the polarizing extremes will likely continue to draw us into debates, further separations, and demonizing the opposite side.

I propose a discussion—not a debate—focused on the shared dreams, desires, and hopes that matter to us all, regardless of our political choices. I believe that most of us seek the same outcomes for ourselves, our families, and our nation. Let’s explore what we have in common; we can discuss “how we get there” in later conversations.

Firstly, it’s crucial to express and recognize that we are not as divided as the extremes would have us believe. The next step is to acknowledge that beneath the rhetoric, fear-mongering, and our compulsion to prove others wrong, we all share similar wants, needs, and desires.

Using our commonalities as a foundation, we can then encourage communication that is open, objective, curious, compassionate, and connective.

For this month’s discussion, I’d like to feed, nurture, and understand our shared values and commonalities. Please join me on Zoom, Wednesday, Nov. 6th at 6:30 pm PT. Email team@andresalvage.com for Zoom link.

 PS- This tactic is also excellent for holiday conversations.

It’s increasingly apparent, particularly in our politically, environmentally, and economically polarized world, how challenging it is to stay aligned with one’s true nature in the face of disagreement. Staying true to one’s nature involves remaining objective, making observations instead of judgments, being curious rather than triggered by words, actions, and beliefs, finding compassion instead of taking things personally, and communicating to connect rather than perpetuating conflict.

This difficulty was vividly illustrated during a recent workshop I led on conflict resolution, where the group unanimously recognized the effectiveness of communicating from one’s true nature in dealings with clients, coworkers, and friends. We delved into various scenarios—both professional and personal—practicing key skills such as listening, present-moment awareness, acknowledging, validating, turning someone into an ally by using strategic language like “we,” “let’s,” and “together,” and focusing on the problem being the problem, not the person. The exercises had a powerful impact, which the participants found highly enlightening.

However, the atmosphere shifted dramatically when I role-played a client expressing political views:

“The way things are now, I feel the country is going downhill. I feel frustrated and scared; I think a Donald Trump and Marjorie Taylor-Greene ticket would turn this country around for the better.”

Immediately, tension filled the room, breathing stopped, biases were triggered, and judgments filled the air. Despite my reminders that acknowledgment does not mean agreement, it took several prompts and deep breaths before the group could practice objectivity, curiosity, compassion, and connection. Finally, someone managed to respond,

“I hear you; these are challenging times. I feel worried as well.”

I reiterated that this is the work of conflict resolution— to remain open, be curious about why someone might feel that way, show compassion for their fears, and engage in a dialogue, all with the intention to connect. Earlier, the group readily agreed that this approach significantly de-escalates tension and were ready to roll with it. With the role-play putting theory into practice, they understood that laying down our self-righteousness and biases is not simple. In moments of stark disagreement, relinquishing the need to be right, to truly listen, acknowledge, and validate another’s feelings remains a substantial challenge. 

Why is it so hard to communicate with the intention to connect, especially when we disagree? This struggle is not unique to any one of us. We all find it necessary to resort to blaming, shaming, and weaponizing our knowledge and intuition at times. Understanding this shared struggle can help us feel more connected and less alone in our communication challenges.

In my youth, I distinctly remember the overwhelming fear of being in survival mode, dominated by a consciousness of poverty, scarcity, and hopelessness. I also remember faint but potent moments of curiosity.

I can’t pinpoint exactly when I decided to transition from living in fear to embracing curiosity, courage, openness, connection, and a desire to understand. This shift feels like an ongoing journey—using the powerful, innate energy of curiosity to prevent fear from wreaking the havoc it has inflicted on many lives.

I describe curiosity as innate because, from a young age, we are driven by a desire to explore and understand the world around us. This natural inclination propels us to “seek out new life, and new civilizations,  to boldly go where no one has gone before...”   Apologies for the Star Trek reference; I’ll stop— where was I?

Curiosity helps us seek new information, perspectives, experiences, and insights that fear would hijack and cause us to abandon for FEAR.

They say that “curiosity killed the cat,” but fear can consume all nine lives in one fleeting moment. Ultimately, it comes down to a choice: do we want to live constricted and paralyzed, or do we want to expand our horizons and enhance our ability to perceive, adapt, and create? I believe that curiosity is not just a substitute for fear; it is a potent alternative to being reactionary. It steers us away from making snap judgments, taking things personally, and succumbing to our unconscious biases. Curiosity opens the pathway to compassion, empathy, understanding, and deeper connections to everything.

This month, I challenge you to approach each moment of fear, stress, or anxiety with curiosity. Allow your curiosity to empower you with the courage to confront and ally with your internal fears, transforming them into something constructive rather than debilitating. If this seems daunting, start by simply contemplating the difference between fear and curiosity. Try to recall a time when, despite fear, your desire to understand took over, and curiosity prevailed.

Although many don't like to admit it, we make a tremendous number of judgments each day. These initial negative judgments help us feel safe, make sense of the world, and offer internal control over situations and people. Inherently, there is nothing wrong with judging; being decisive, making declarations, and envisioning potential outcomes can enhance your ability to function effectively. So why do so many health, spiritual, and scientific-minded people advise against being judgmental?

There is a difference between forming an opinion through objective reasoning and fairness—that's making a judgment. However, forming critical and negative opinions without sufficient evidence or based on bias, stereotypes, or preconceived notions—that is being judgmental.

It is the latter that I wish to discuss: the dangers of being judgmental and the ways we can transform that particular ego defense into an objective, curious, compassionate advisor. 

I think we can all agree that it's not right to take something that doesn't belong to you. Doing so deprives the original owner of having, using, and truly owning it.

If we're clear on the fact that we shouldn't take what isn't ours, then why do we so often take personally words, actions, behaviors, and thoughts that clearly aren't meant for us? Why do we adopt them, believe in them, and let ourselves be affected by them?

When we take things personally, it's akin to taking someone else's belongings. Their words and actions are their own; by taking them personally, we appropriate—misappropriate—their chance to learn from their own actions.

At our next Wednesday gathering, I'd like to explore three questions:

1. Why do we take the words, actions, and behaviors of others personally?
2. What can we do, adopt, or “let go” so we don't take things personally?
3. How would your life be different if you stopped taking others' words, behaviors, and so forth personally?

I don't want to put my head on the chopping block by discussing this, but it's a topic that has come up in several conversations I've had with individuals in both small groups and government settings. The debate centers around the right to speak freely and say whatever one needs to say versus an individual's personal right to be comfortable and not be triggered.
 
I know many of us have strong opinions on this matter, and what I'm hoping for is a discussion to see if we can discover some type of balance. This is challenging because, like all social, political, and spiritual ideals, we tend to place them on a pendulum, swinging from extremes and creating divisions of 'us versus them,' 'right versus wrong,' and demanding that someone take a side.
 
I'm not naive enough to think that we can solve this particular problem, but what I'm hoping for is a discussion on how the extremes might find ways to meet in the middle. Perhaps this is something that can be offered during times when the debate is particularly heated.
 
What I'm saying is that I definitely have opinions that I express in those moments, but I'm looking to see and hear from your experiences on ways to find common ground so that both so-called extremes can be in the same room and listen to one another.
 
If we have time, I would also like to explore if there's a parallel to the idea of stopping someone from harming you by moving or attacking first. In San Soo, we understand that it is not easy to hurt another human being. To do so, you must dehumanize them; that's why people curse at you, call you out of your name, and even use animal names—because, in their minds, they are not making you human. These words have the power to provoke an attack. As fighters, we know not to wait for someone's best move and trust our intuition, watching their body and words to either attack first or move away.
 
Given this, my question is: When does someone forfeit their right to continue (free speech) and make me feel not human before I have the right to feel safe and protect myself? Is there any parallel to someone lecturing and using offensive, possibly dangerous, dehumanizing words and someone's personal right to interrupt them or stop their flow, as we do in San Soo?
 
Please, do me a favor and try not to place me on either side of the extremes based on what I've said, but join me, and let's see if we can find a balanced, common ground.

Trauma State of Mind

I call this first stage the trauma state of mind. We’ve all experienced days where we’ve continuously led with our ego—that protective wall—due to some unresolved lack, loss, hurt, fear, pain, hunger, or even sleepiness.

When we are in this mindset, we are internally in conflict, and even though there’s a part of you that knows you should stay home, we still venture out like a walking time bomb ready to explode.

Situation

The next stepping stone to conflict is that life happens. Situations in and of themselves do not lead to conflict, but if you are carrying the burden of prior trauma and your present situation manifests a loss or even hints at the potential for a loss, your ego-protected mindset connects to and magnifies the present situation and can lead to conflict—especially if you get triggered.

Triggered

Being triggered is reflexively reacting internally to the perceived negative life situation we’ve magnified in our minds. When you are pissed off, all life situations remind you of the trauma that caused your current mindset. Being triggered can precipitate a significant emotional response.

Feel

When we get triggered, feelings that are often bigger than we can manage arise. These feelings amplify the feeling we left the house with and often overwhelm us. To release these feelings, we take another step.

Express

The final step to beginning a conflict is expression. We act on the feelings triggered by the situation that our mindset said was dangerous— and usually aim our words or actions at others. We’ve completed the pathway to conflict or a fight.

Later I'll be writing about ways to disrupt this pathway and the tools you use to stop the conflict before reaching the end of the path.

One of the primary reasons I was drawn to Kung Fu San Soo was its non-competitive nature. Before discovering San Soo, I had immersed myself in competitive boxing and various martial arts, where the drive to win, to be the best, and to overpower others often led to a profound amount of pain and suffering, effects that can last a lifetime.

I recall my last contest vividly—a full-contact, all-style tournament. My instructor at the time emphasized doing your best without ever mentioning winning or losing. “Sometimes your best will surpass others, and sometimes it won’t. The key is to train intelligently and learn from every experience. And most importantly, enjoy the process.”

Facing my opponent, I sensed victory was imminent, not so much due to my skill but due to the intense pressure his coach—his father—placed on him. The desperation in his father’s commands to win was alarming. Throughout the fight, his father’s screams pierced the air, and during breaks, he berated his son with the demand to win. My heart went out to my opponent, especially after I knocked him down and claimed victory.

To this day, I wonder if my skill or the heavy burden of stress and expectation he carried into the ring decided the outcome. That competition was my last.

The obsession with winning over others is a toxin to the soul, fueling division, an “us versus them” mentality, and an unhealthy focus on comparison without understanding how to truly win or lose. It seems we’ve shifted from learning and mastering skills for their own sake to learning merely for the sake of our egos, to dominate others at their expense.

I’m not an advocate for the sentiment that everyone deserves a trophy simply for participation. Hard work, doing your best, and outperforming others deserve recognition. However, my concern lies with the excessive focus on external validation, rewards, and winning at the expense of others.

This distortion of sportsmanship skews our values significantly. It’s telling when professional athletes earn a hundred times more than teachers. The emphasis has shifted from growing through learning to competing to win.

I’m curious about your views on competition and comparison. Have you noticed when the joy of learning and practicing to your best ability shifts into competing at others’ expense? How do you feel upon winning? Does this competitive mindset aid your training, or does it impede it?

Delving deeper into the concept, I believe competition—measuring, comparing, and categorizing things as good or bad—fuels the notion of separation. These constructs—societal creations—empower some while disempowering others, fostering the divide that is growing daily.

The constructs anchor us to outcomes, overshadowing the journey and the myriad opportunities for learning and growth. This focus on winning rather than on the process obscures the ability to embrace and learn from loss, trapping us in a cycle of unconsolable grief, unable to appreciate the inherent beauty in every situation.

The competitive mindset that reinforces an “us versus them” mentality, promoting the necessity to “win” at all costs—and to prevent the “other” from winning is rooted in the fear that  if “they” prevail, “they” will do horrible things to “us.” 

This mindset paves the way for demonizing and dehumanizing opponents, justifying abuse, control, and even genocide by stripping people of their humanity. In this frame, competition becomes a battleground not for ideas but for righteousness, triggering debates, selective outrage, and ridicule rather than fostering understanding and respect.

In sports and my interactions—whether playing, working, or learning—I view competition as a contest. This perspective shifts the focus from asserting dominance to evaluating one’s abilities and identifying areas for improvement, growth, and development.

Imagine how our world would transform if we redefined competition not as a vehicle for division but as an avenue to excel to the best of our abilities, inspiring each other to reach new heights.

Such a shift could redefine sportsmanship, cultivating respect and collaborative efforts to enhance individual talents and collective achievements. This approach to competition, or rather a contest, could diminish the grip of separation on our culture and society, encouraging everyone to give their best, enjoy the journey, and engage with the world with an intention to connect.

Before I’m introduced on stage for a lecture or workshop, I provide a written bio to the host. This bio excludes being a Master of martial arts or Kung Fu San Soo. I omit that once important detail because nowadays, being a martial arts master doesn’t carry the prestige it held a while ago.

I’m old enough to use the words “in my day,” so I will.

In my day, learning martial arts was not solely for fighting—it was life training.

Classic martial arts training balanced philosophy, compassion, health, empowerment, and courage. A byproduct of those teachings was that you learned how to take care of yourself physically and emotionally.

Every martial arts teacher I ever had, including my first San Soo instructors Sharon and Larry Wikel taught that balance and encouraged their students to embrace the extreme parts of themselves, from the compassionate loving part to the part that can be dangerous. We were taught how to access those extremes while living in peace, objectivity, and balance.

Nowadays, martial arts is uber-martial and all about the fight, the competition, and the winning, paralleling the way we communicate.

We no longer communicate with the intention to connect but with the intention to dominate, debate, control, conquer, and win.

One of the main reasons why companies ask me to work with them is because we have lost the ability to communicate with the intention to connect.

Most of our interactions—business and personal— are a microcosm of our society and the world’s prevalent way of being.  

• Right now, we don’t listen to one another.
• We shut down anyone who has different opinions.
• We are opportunists and take advantage of others’ weaknesses and actions.
• We’re very fragile and self-righteous.
• We take any idea that perpetuates growth and awareness, beat it down, and demonize it until it loses its original positive meaning.

People who read that I am a martial artist assume I subscribe to one of the prevalent extremes.

They see me as either a new age, magical thinking, fake wanna-be monk (a fellow martial artist called me that once…only once) who uses his chi and mind to defeat his opponents or as some competitive, angry, ex-gang member street fighter who could not possibly understand the corporate world.

A CEO told me, “I think you’ll be a good fit for our staff because the majority of them have your background, similar life experiences, and they seem to have the most problems…the C-suites are fine.”

This elitist thinking just added to their problems—Especially when I shared with the staff how to objectively speak to narcissistic power without becoming what you hate.

Once I removed the master of martial arts and “former street fighter” from my bio, I was hired to work with everyone in the company. I also began refusing to work with any organization that only wanted to send their “support staff” to the classes—it was everyone or no one at all.

To many companies’ credit, they see the value of everyone learning the same skills, and those companies see the changes they desire. ­

What companies don’t realize is that many of the principles I teach to help them resolve conflicts with each other and their clients—the importance of communicating with the intention to connect, trusting your intuition, bringing present-moment awareness to how we listen and speak to each other—originate from the philosophies and teachings of martial arts.

For some teams, as an icebreaker, I have them practice sticky hands to help them realize and feel the moment when they stop connecting and start competing because that’s the moment of conflict.

All that leads up to say that today’s discussion point comes from the art of listening and authentic expression.

Saying how you feel or expressing yourself is not easy. One tool that helps is the ability to pause.

Too often, we get pulled into believing that we have to immediately respond to what people say to us when, in truth, it is better to pause, breathe, and relax your shoulders before you say anything.

Pausing is not easy if you’re in a debate or you’re dealing with somebody who has mouth diarrhea and feels they have to fill silence with noise. But even that can be neutralized by asking that person for a moment before you talk.

Because we equate silence with confusion or not knowing, we feel we must respond immediately when in conversation. However, a slight pause allows you to absorb what the speaker just said and not respond from any protective parts or filters. Try it today, right before it’s your turn to speak. Take a moment, take a breath, take a pause, and afterward, notice your tone and the outcome of the conversation.

In martial arts, the pause is equal to the timing and you being in the same rhythm as the confrontation. Often, we rush to respond when we need to recognize the rhythm, the timing, and the flow—and that momentary pause helps. Timing is everything when it comes to movement and communication. The pause helps you to be in that moment and to control the flow.

Try it…take a pause…take a breath...then speak.