Stories That Kill, Stories That Protect

I grew up in movement. Team sports, solo sports, and a lot of time on the tatami. Martial arts were not a hobby; they were like a second home. I lived in that world of repetition, bruises, discipline and respect. In the 80ies and 90ies, you did not just practice martial arts, you breathed them. Samurai culture slipped in through that door, through punishments and rewards. And of course, meditation after every session. The stories, the posture, the idea that duty and identity can be the same. Look at your opponent like looking at the Fujiyama. The narrative.

Years later, almost without realizing it, life had led me into nearly two decades of close protection work across five continents: different era, different tools, but the same questions about loyalty, violence and belief.