I’m not here to preach. I’m just an old martial arts instructor who’s seen a lot, too much.

Maybe.

I’ve watched generations grow, stumble, rise, and fall. But lately, something feels different. Not just in the dojo, but everywhere. In schools, online, in the streets. There’s a kind of emotional chaos that’s hard to ignore. And if I had to name the two things we’re most desperately missing in today’s society, I’d say this: self-control and the ability to recognize the humanity in others.

Self-Control: The Forgotten Discipline

We used to teach self-control as a virtue. In martial arts, it’s foundational. You don’t throw a punch just because you’re angry. You breathe. You wait. You think. But outside the dojo, restraint has become unfashionable. We live in a culture of instant reaction; comment sections, viral outrage, performative vulnerability. Young people are taught to express everything, all the time, as if catharsis equals truth. But expression without discipline isn’t strength. It’s noise.

Self-control isn’t repression. It’s wisdom. It’s knowing when to speak and when to listen. When to act and when to pause. It’s the quiet power that keeps us from becoming slaves to our impulses. And right now, we need it more than ever.

Humanity: Seeing the Person Behind the Post

The second thing we’re losing is our ability to see each other as human beings. Not avatars. Not enemies. Not ideological opponents. Just people. Flawed, complex, scared, hopeful people.

I see it in the way we talk to each other, or don’t. The way we dehumanize those who disagree with us. The way we weaponize identity and turn empathy into a zero-sum game. Somewhere along the way, we forgot that dignity isn’t earned through agreement. It’s inherent.

Recognizing someone’s humanity doesn’t mean you condone their actions. It means you refuse to reduce them to a caricature. It means you choose compassion over contempt.

The Maslow Misfire

And here’s where I get grumpy. Too many young people today treat self-actualization like it’s the only thing that matters. They’ve taken the top of Maslow’s pyramid and turned it into a survival need. But self-actualization isn’t oxygen. It’s not food or safety. It’s a privilege, one that’s built on the foundation of community, stability, and yes, self-control.

You don’t reach your highest self by skipping the basics. You get there by mastering them.

A Tired Voice, Still Speaking

I’m tired. Tired of the hate. Tired of the noise. Tired of watching people tear each other down in the name of authenticity or righteousness. Tired of seeing violence break out over a difference of opinion.

But I’m not silent. Because I still believe in the power of character. I still believe in teaching kids to breathe before they speak. To bow before they spar. To see the person in front of them, not just the opinion.

We can’t fix everything. But we can start with these two things. Self-control. Humanity. If we bring them back, maybe the rest will follow.

Take care of yourself and each other.