Pick Your Battles:
A Warrior’s Guide to Fighting What Matters

The other day, I got to Meraki early.

​Gutemberg and some of the other black belts were already rolling, training for an upcoming competition.

I took a seat on the bench. My body was fine, but my mind? Not so much.

One of our newer professors sat beside me. He moved to LA from São Paulo five months ago. Good guy. Sharp eyes. Quiet confidence.

He looked over and asked if I was training today. I shook my head.

“Nah, sitting out today,” I said. “Got into an argument with my wife this morning. Head’s not in the right place.”

Then I cracked a joke.

“I tell my buddies that for all the times I’ve had my butt kicked in Hapkido or BJJ, it’s nothing compared to my wife. She kicks my butt worse than all of you combined.”

The professor laughed. A deep belly laugh.

He nodded and said, “No matter your belt, with your wife, you’re always a beginner.”

“A white belt,” I said.

We both laughed even harder.

There’s that line from the movie Crazy, Stupid, Love, right?

Now don’t get me wrong—we rarely fight.

But when we do, it cuts deep.

Because she’s the one person I allow all the way in. The one person I trust with all the messy stuff.

At Meraki, I’ve gifted three younger guys the same book a friend gave me when I got engaged: Smart Couples Finish Rich.​

That book has helped us argue less about money, and live more in peace.

And lately, I’ve been remembering what my Hapkido instructors told me years ago:

Pick your battles.

Carefully.

The Lie They Tell You About Strength

When you're young, you think being strong means always standing your ground.

You think it means never backing down, never saying sorry, and always winning.

That’s not strength. That’s ego.

Real strength is knowing when to stand tall—and when to sit down.

The strongest warriors don’t fight every fight. They choose their battles. They think long term. They protect what matters most.

Fighting everything is how you get tired.

Fighting everything is how you lose the war—even if you win the battle.

Why Young Men Fight the Wrong Battles

Look around.

Most young men are exhausted—and they don’t even know why.

They’re fighting to prove themselves to people who don’t care.

They’re arguing on social media. They’re picking fights with their partners over dumb stuff. They’re blowing up at work over small slights.

They’re dragging baggage from childhood into every adult room they walk into.

Why?

Because they haven’t learned the art of restraint.

They haven’t learned emotional control.

They haven’t learned to pause and ask:

What Battles Are Worth Fighting?

There are battles that matter.

These are the ones worth stepping into:

Your own discipline

• Getting up early.
• Training even when tired.
• Saying “no” to distractions.
  That’s a fight. And it’s one worth showing up for every single day.

Your values

• If someone crosses your boundary, speak up.
• If a job, partner, or friend asks you to go against your core beliefs, that’s a line. Hold it.

Your purpose

• Building something that matters.
• Protecting your time and focus.
• Making space for your mission—even when no one else understands it.

Your relationships

• Not every disagreement is a fight, but when it’s about love, respect, or trust—those are worth standing for.
• But here’s the key: sometimes the best way to fight for your relationship… is to not fight at all.

The Art of Restraint
(or Why Smart Warriors Walk Away)

There’s a reason the best martial artists are the calmest people in the room.

They don’t need to prove anything.

They’ve already done the work. They’ve faced themselves. And because of that, they know that not every punch is worth throwing.

Smart warriors walk away more often than they fight.

They save their strength for when it really counts.

They see a bigger picture.

And most importantly: they know who they are—so they don’t need to swing to prove it.

How to Know Which Battles to Fight

Here’s a 3-question filter I teach my students:

Will this matter in 3 years?​
If not, let it go.

Will this deepen or damage my relationships?​
f it’s just ego—let it go. If it’s about love or trust—talk it through.

Will this help me become the man I want to be?​
If yes, fight. If no, walk away.

Most of the time, silence is stronger than shouting.

Stillness is braver than striking.

And peace is harder—and more honorable—than war.

Putting It On the Mat of Life

A few years ago, one of my hapkido friends was in a rough place.

He was in his early 40s, still a strong guy, sharp guy—but his life was chaos.

Constant drama. At work. At home. With friends.

He called me angry.

Everything felt like a war. Every conversation was a battle. Every day? A fight.

I asked him, “Do you want to win on the mat—or in life?”

He looked confused.

So I told him a story.

When I was in my 20s and 30s, I thought strength was about always being right.

I’d fight with my boss, fight with my girlfriend, fight with the world.

But it wasn’t until I started losing what mattered—my peace, my sleep, my relationships—that I realized something:

I remember when I first picked up the book, Don't Sweat the Small Stuff and It's All Small Stuff, by Richard Carlson.

In the book, he shares the analogy of being at a 4-way stop sign intersection, and the guy to your left doesn't follow the "right of way" rules of driving.

I kid you not, I'm embarrassed to say even after reading that and knowing the logic of the story, my ego wouldn't let it go and I would rather be right instead of happy.

It took me ending up in the hospital from stress to realize that I was an idiot.

So I learned to pick my battles.

To ask: Is this the hill I want to die on? Or is there something more important I’m trying to protect?

Now, as I go through life, I do my best to live with patience. Precision. Awareness.

I let things go.

I hold the line when I must.

My wife and I still have our moments, but these days, I don’t fight to win—I fight to understand.

I fight to stay connected.

I fight to grow together.

And that has made all the difference.

So here’s your challenge this week:

Look at the fights in your life.

Write them down.

Ask:

• Which ones matter?
• Which ones don’t?
• What would happen if I stopped swinging so hard?
• What would happen if I chose peace, instead of proving a point?

Then take one of those moments—and walk away.

Not in fear. Not in shame.

But in strength.

Pick your battles. That’s what real warriors do.