Be Water, My Friend

“Be water, my friend.”
Bruce Lee, in an old interview

The essence remains the same, yet the form shifts to fit its container.
It breaks free from rigid frames and flows into new shapes.

I call this flexibility.

Over the past year, I’ve trained more than a thousand recruits as an instructor in the army.
At first, I thought my way was the right way.
I pushed the lessons forward, insisting they understand and accept what I said.

But not everyone did.
And instead of looking at myself, I blamed them.
I told myself I had done my part.
If they didn’t get it, that was their fault.

I was wrong.

Because no matter how clear or brilliant a thought may be, if it isn’t understood, it loses its power.
Even the sharpest idea is useless if it fails to connect.

If my recruits didn’t grasp what I was teaching, the responsibility wasn’t on them.
It was on me.
Every person absorbs information differently.
To truly communicate, I had to meet them where they were.

Flexibility doesn’t mean giving in.
It doesn’t mean swallowing frustration and moving on.

Flexibility means shaping your ideas in ways others can receive.
It means knowing when to let go of stubbornness.
It means staying open while holding on to your core.

At its heart, flexibility is expanding your world into someone else’s.
Not by force, but by flow.

That’s why Bruce Lee compared it to water.
Water holds its essence, yet can fill any vessel.
That freedom, that fluidity, is the highest form of flexibility.

Marketing, in many ways, is built on this very principle.
It begins with understanding people.
It reshapes messages into the most effective form, carrying them straight into the minds of those who need to hear them.
Few disciplines show flexibility more clearly than this.

A strong worldview and sharp words may impress for a moment.
But they aren’t enough.
A belief that cannot be shared is no belief at all.

Only through freedom, adaptability, and flexibility can we extend our ideas beyond ourselves—
and allow them to take root in others.