I Didn’t Know I Had Principles Until Lu Called
Lu called me today from China.
He told me he started a channel on Red Note.
He’s turning 50 this year.
So am I.
We weren’t talking strategy.
We were just catching up.
At some point, he said something like,
“I don’t really know what I want to say yet. I just feel like I’ve lived enough to have something.”
That line stayed with me after the call ended.
I started a blog last year.
Not because I had a plan.
Mostly because I needed a place to put thoughts that kept circling back.
What I realized today, after talking with Lu, is this:
I already live by a set of principles.
I just never named them.
They didn’t come from school.
They didn’t come from religion.
They didn’t even come cleanly from my parents.
They came from people I met while growing up mostly on my own.
I moved to the U.S. when I was 13.
My parents weren’t with me the whole time.
My sister was around, but she was in college, living her life.
That’s not blame. That’s just reality.
So I watched adults.
Not teachers.
Not speakers.
Just people working, talking, closing shifts, handling family, dealing with consequences.
I didn’t know I was collecting anything back then.
I was just trying to survive, fit in, get better at golf, pay rent, do my job.
Looking back now, I can see it clearly.
Every meaningful belief I hold came from moments like that.
Not from lessons.
From observation.
Golf trained me to notice this earlier than most things.
In golf, the ball tells the truth whether you like it or not.
Patterns repeat.
Excuses don’t last long.
You can work very hard on the wrong thing.
You can feel strongly about what you think your strengths are.
And still be completely wrong.
That idea didn’t stay on the course.
It followed me into marriage.
Into family.
Into how I think about fairness, love, responsibility, and work.
What surprised me today wasn’t that I had opinions.
It was realizing those opinions came from a life that quietly shaped them.
I didn’t inherit them intact.
I chose them, one by one, often without realizing I was choosing.
Talking to Lu made that visible.
This series is me writing those moments down.
Not to teach.
Not to persuade.
Just to ask a simple question, over and over:
Where did I actually learn to believe what I believe?