How I Stopped Letting Anger and Conflict Define My Life
5 Strategies to Cultivate Inner Peace and Transform Your Approach to Life
I remember standing on the rooftop of the tallest building in my neighbourhood, looking down at the ground below, wondering if this would be the moment I’d let go. I was 13 years old, and life had become unbearable. The violence at home, the bullying at school, and the constant feeling that I didn’t belong had finally pushed me to the edge. The voices in my head told me that maybe, just maybe, this was the way to end the pain.
That day, I didn’t jump. But I carried that moment with me, like a scar on my soul, for many years. I carried the weight of feeling out of place, of never being enough, of wondering why the world seemed so intent on beating me down.
When I look back now, I see that moment for what it was—a turning point. Not the kind you recognise in the instant it happens, but one that unfolds slowly, like a long exhale. I didn’t know it then, but that moment would become part of the fuel that would drive me for years—sometimes in ways that weren’t healthy, and sometimes in ways that helped me survive.
From Sensitivity to Survival
As a child, I was sensitive and creative—two traits that didn’t serve me well in the rough environment I grew up in. I loved art, had a gentle spirit, and I wasn’t built for violence. But the world around me didn’t care for gentleness. My mother’s abuse, the constant instability, and the bullying I faced at school hardened me in ways I couldn’t understand. By age six, I was already mapping out different routes home from school, always on high alert, always in survival mode.
It was around that time I begged my mother to let me start karate. In my child’s mind, learning to fight meant I could make the bullying stop. I thought martial arts would give me the power to protect myself, to finally belong. But the truth was, karate didn’t stop the bullying. It didn’t make me feel strong. If anything, I felt more lost, confused about who I was and where I fit in.
It wasn’t until my teenage years that something inside me snapped. After years of being beaten down—emotionally and physically—I made a choice: If I was going to survive, I had to fight back. And that’s what I did. I fought with a reckless abandon that came from a place of deep pain. I wasn’t trying to prove anything to anyone else at first; I was just trying to survive.
The Shift to Violence
By my 20s, violence had become my way of navigating the world. Bouncing outside some of the toughest nightclubs in Johannesburg, I used my fists as my language. It wasn’t about survival anymore—it was about proving myself. After a childhood of feeling powerless, I had found a way to reclaim that power, even if it meant leaning into violence.
But the thing about violence is that it changes you. It leaves marks not just on the people you hurt, but on yourself. It seeps into your bones, hardening you in ways you don’t realise until it’s too late. In my 30s, I was still fighting—on the mat, in seminars around the world and in life. I had become skilled, respected, and feared in the martial arts world, but there was a growing emptiness inside me. I was fighting, but I wasn’t winning.
I didn’t understand it at the time, but I was at war with myself. The sensitive kid inside me had never gone away—he had just been buried beneath layers of survival tactics. And while I had learned how to fight, I hadn’t learned how to live.
From Violence to Peace: The Real Journey of Martial Arts
It took me years to understand that martial arts could be more than just about learning how to fight. At first, it had been a way to fight back, to survive. Then, it became a way to prove myself to the world, to show that I belonged. But in my later years, I began to realize that martial arts was about something deeper (of course only if you were brave enough to allow it to be so)—it was about mastering the violence within, about choosing peace even when you know how to fight.
The ancient Stoics taught that true strength comes not from controlling others but from mastering oneself. And that’s what I’ve come to understand. Violence is easy. Restraint is hard. It takes real strength to know when not to fight, to understand that true power comes from within—not from how many battles you win, but from how you live your life with integrity and compassion.
Buddhism also speaks to this idea—the concept of ahimsa, or non-violence. It doesn’t mean we can’t defend ourselves when necessary. It means we understand the cost of violence, that even when justified, it leaves a mark on our soul. I’ve seen this in myself and in the men I’ve trained over the years. Violence, even in ‘self-defense’, always leaves a residue of suffering behind.
The Duality of Violence in Society
Contemporary society has a strange, almost schizophrenic relationship with violence. We glorify it in movies, sports, and video games. We cheer for the fighters, the warriors, the champions. We admire their strength, their courage, their ability to dominate and win. But when violence spills into real life—into our homes, our streets, our relationships—we recoil. We condemn it as something dark, ugly, and destructive. This duality blinds us to the truth that violence is never trivial, no matter where it occurs. It’s not a game. It’s not entertainment. It leaves scars on everyone involved—physical, emotional, and spiritual.
I’ve grappled with this contradiction for years. When I created Crazy Monkey Defense I wanted it to be the most effective modern system of self-preservation. But deep down, I always wanted it to be more—not just a tool for protection but a tool that helps people transform themselves, to master their inner world as much as their physical one. Because here’s the thing: it’s never just about learning how to fight. The real lesson is learning when not to fight. It’s about understanding that the true battle isn’t with an external opponent—it’s with ourselves. The aggression, fear, and infantile ego that live inside each of us are the real enemies, and they are far harder to defeat than any challenger on the mat.
But I’m not going to sugarcoat it—this inner battle is terrifying. It’s not for the faint of heart. Facing down your own demons, your inner violence, is one of the hardest things you’ll ever do. Even when you’ve made progress, even when you think you’ve tamed the beast within, the temptation to revert to violence is always there. The pull to kick someone’s ass, because you can or because you feel justified, is a seductive one. It’s simple. It’s immediate. It makes you feel powerful, in control.
And that’s where the underdeveloped ego comes in—the infantile, insecure part of you that craves dominance and validation. Once that ego takes the wheel, it’s hard to wrest control back. I’ve been there. Hell, I’ve lived there for years. As much as violence terrified me growing up, it became my go-to solution because it was easy. Punching someone in the face doesn’t require reflection, doesn’t demand that you confront your own pain or vulnerability. It doesn’t force you to ask the hard questions, like:
“Why is violence my answer?” “Why am I so attracted to violence in the first place?” “What am I really fighting against?” “What am I so afraid of?”
These are the questions that strip you bare. They force you to look at the parts of yourself you’d rather ignore—the parts that are hurt, scared, or angry. And that’s why so many people avoid this inner work. They tell themselves that violence is necessary, or that because it’s ‘sport’, it’s harmless, or that they need to be deadly so no one will ever take advantage of them again.
But deep down, they know the truth: the more you rely on violence to solve your problems, the more it controls you. It becomes a crutch, a mask you wear to hide the deeper wounds you haven’t healed. And in the end, it doesn’t just harm the people you fight—it harms you. It erodes your humanity, your empathy, your connection to others. It keeps you locked in a cycle. For some, the cycle is anxiety; for others, depression, aggression or fear, always looking for the next fight (both real and imagined) because you haven’t figured out how to make peace with yourself yet.
The real battle isn’t about defeating an opponent. It’s about overcoming the part of you that believes violence is the only way to feel strong, to feel safe, to feel whole. And that battle—the battle within—is the one that truly matters.
Practical Steps: From Surviving to Flourishing
The truth is, finding peace within yourself doesn’t happen overnight. It’s a process, one that I’m still walking every day. If you’re reading this and wondering, “How do I even begin to walk this path?”—let me share a few strategies that have personally helped me over the years. These are the things I’ve tried, tested, and lived through, and they’ve made a difference in how I approach both life and conflict.
1. Mindful Self-Awareness: The Power of Pausing
One of the biggest changes in my life came when I learned to pause. I used to react to everything, letting my emotions take the driver’s seat—especially anger. Over time, I realised that if I didn’t create space between the event and my reaction, I would always choose violence, aggression, or defensiveness. Learning to pause became my first real tool for self-mastery.
How I Apply It:
Daily Practice: Every morning, I set aside five minutes to just sit in silence and focus on my breath. At first, it felt unnatural—sitting still when I was so used to action—but over time, it became my foundation. This daily practice helps me stay grounded, especially in moments of conflict or stress. It gives me a moment to reflect before I react, which has been a game-changer.
In the Heat of the Moment: When I feel that surge of anger or frustration—whether it’s during a sparring session or a conversation—I’ve trained myself to take a deep breath and count to five on the exhale. It sounds simple, but it’s made all the difference. I ask myself, “Is this reaction necessary? Can I choose another way?” That split second of reflection is often all I need to defuse a situation.
2. Reframing Conflict: Seeing the Bigger Picture
For most of my early life, I saw every conflict as a fight that needed to be won. Whether it was on the mat, in the streets, or even in relationships, I treated everything like a battle. But the more I experienced, the more I began to see conflict differently. Not every battle needs to be fought—and often, the real issue isn’t what’s happening in the moment but what’s going on inside of me.
How I Apply It:
Ask the Deeper Questions: When I’m faced with a conflict, I take a moment to ask, “What’s really going on here?” Am I reacting to something this person did, or is this triggering something deeper within me—fear, insecurity, or ego? Once I started asking those questions, I began to realise that most of my conflicts had more to do with what was happening internally than what was happening externally.
Defusing with Empathy: This one wasn’t easy for me. I spent years thinking that empathy was a sign of weakness. But once I started trying to see the other person’s perspective, everything shifted. Now, when I’m in a conflict, I ask myself, “What’s this person’s pain? What’s driving their reaction?” That doesn’t mean I let people walk over me, but it helps me approach situations with more understanding and less aggression.
3. Develop Inner Peace Through Movement
I’ve always been a physically active person. Movement has been a constant in my life since I was a kid—whether it was through martial arts, boxing, or even walking. But it wasn’t until I started viewing movement as a way to calm my mind, rather than just as a way to release aggression, that things really started to change for me.
How I Apply It:
Movement as Meditation: I’ve come to see my training on the mat—as a form of moving meditation. It’s not just about fighting anymore. It’s about being fully present in my body, moving with intention, and letting go of the mental clutter. When I focus on slow, controlled movements and sync my breath with my actions, I find peace in the discipline.
Nature Walks for Clarity: Some days, when I’m feeling particularly overwhelmed or stressed, I go for a walk in nature. There’s something about being outside, away from the noise of life, that clears my mind. It’s a simple practice, but it helps me reset and regain perspective.
4. Choosing Your Battles: The Wisdom of Non-Engagement
This has been one of the hardest lessons for me. As a young man, I thought I had to fight every battle that came my way—whether it was proving myself, standing up to bullies, or reacting to every slight. I didn’t want to be seen as weak. But the older I get, the more I realise that real strength lies in knowing when to walk away.
How I Apply It:
Ask Myself What Really Matters: Before engaging in any conflict now, I ask myself, “What will winning this battle actually achieve?” More often than not, the answer is that it won’t achieve anything meaningful. Once I learned to let go of the need to win every battle, I found a sense of peace that I’d never had before. Sometimes, walking away is the most powerful thing you can do. Having this philosophy has saved many airport security officials (LOL).
The Bigger Perspective: I also remind myself of a principle I learned from both Stoicism and Buddhism: everything is temporary. The anger, the frustration, the conflict—it will all pass. When I can take a step back and see the bigger picture, it becomes easier to disengage from battles that don’t serve me.
5. Building a Community of Support
The journey from survival to flourishing isn’t one you can walk alone. I spent a lot of my younger years trying to be the lone wolf, thinking I didn’t need anyone. But I’ve come to realise that the people you surround yourself with are critical to your growth.
How I Apply It:
Seek Mentors (Living or Otherwise): I haven’t had many mentors in the traditional sense, but I’ve found guidance in the wisdom of those who came before us. Books have been some of my greatest mentors—thinkers like Marcus Aurelius have shaped my understanding of resilience, discipline, and how to live a meaningful life. You don’t need to find someone in the flesh to help you grow. Even mentors from history or the written word can challenge you, push you to be better, and hold you accountable to your values. That kind of guidance has been invaluable to me.
Create a Tribe: I’m working hard to build a community of like-minded individuals who are committed to personal growth. It hasn’t been easy, especially because modern society—and the whole "Dude Culture"—often pushes men to be the opposite of what I believe makes for a fulfilling life. But I know there are others out there who see it the way I do, even if they’re not the majority. These are people who value peace over violence, strive for emotional integrity, and aren’t afraid to do the inner work. If you don’t already have that kind of community around you, I encourage you to seek it out or create it yourself. It can make all the difference in your journey.
It’s Not The End: A Way Forward
For those of you reading this, especially the guys who feel like the weight of the world is crushing down—who’ve been bullied, beaten down, or feel like life has left you with no options—know that I’ve been where you are. I know what it’s like to feel like violence, whether it’s against others or against yourself, is the only way to deal with the pain. But trust me when I say, violence, in any form, only leaves deeper scars.
Violence isn’t just what you do to others. It’s the damage you do to yourself when you drown your pain in alcohol, numb yourself with drugs, or give up on life entirely. It’s the slow, insidious way you lose yourself piece by piece, until one day, you don’t even recognise who you are anymore. And it’s not just physical violence that harms—it’s the emotional self-abuse, the inner dialogue of shame, anger, and worthlessness that tears you apart from the inside.
But it doesn’t have to be this way.
The path forward isn’t about being tougher, fighting harder, or buying into all the noise about what it takes to be a “real man.” It’s not about grinding yourself into the ground with the hustle culture’s mantra of “wake up before 5 a.m.” or believing that success means crushing everyone around you. That’s just more of the same toxic script ‘Dude Culture’ has been feeding men for years, and it doesn’t lead to fulfilment—it leads to burnout, emptiness, and a life spent chasing someone else’s idea of success.
Instead, it’s about finding strength in vulnerability, peace in presence, and power in your ability to choose a different path. It’s about living in a way that allows you to be yourself without sacrificing your soul to a version of masculinity that’s all about domination and empty victories.
This is what I’ve dedicated my life to now—helping men like you realise that you don’t have to follow the destructive patterns society often lays out for us. You don’t have to conform to the expectations that tell you violence is the only way to survive or that you have to crush others to succeed. There’s another way.
That’s why I created the Crazy Monkey Virtual Mat—a space where we can have these open, honest discussions. A place where you can learn how to transform your survival instincts into a powerful catalyst for personal growth and flourishing, without sacrificing who you really are.
On the Virtual Mat, we don’t just talk about fighting. We talk about what it means to be a man in a world that doesn’t always have the answers. We talk about overcoming fear, mastering the ego, and finding fulfilment in a way that transcends the superficial markers of success. It’s a space where you can learn to connect with others, understand yourself, and build a life that’s not about dominance, but about balance and peace.
If you’ve felt like there’s no place for you in the world of “Dude Culture,” or if you’re tired of trying to fit into a mould that doesn’t feel right, I invite you to join us. This journey isn’t easy—but it’s worth it. And together, we can walk this path toward a more fulfilling, peaceful, and authentic way of being.
Because the truth is, strength isn’t just about how hard you can hit. It’s about how deeply you can connect, how authentically you can live, and how meaningfully you can contribute. That’s where the real power lies.
PS. Have you checked out my Mindful Warrior Blog yet? If you found value in this piece, I think you'll really enjoy the insights I share there. Also, I’m now offering personal 1:1 coaching through Crazy Monkey’s Mindful-Warrior Way. If you're interested, feel free to reach out to me HERE.