Violence Isn’t a Gift—It’s a Curse: Reflections on a Life Lived in Contradiction

I've been thinking a lot lately about violence. As a young child, violence was a constant companion. If it wasn’t the hand of my mother, it was the fists of the neighbourhood thugs. Violence was as present in my life as the air I breathed; it became an unspoken rule, an unchallenged norm. Early on, I learned to normalise it, to assume that this was just how the world worked.

As I grew older, violence took on a different role. In my later years, I entered professions that revolved around it—first as a bouncer outside some of Johannesburg’s most notorious nightclubs in the early ’90s, then as a full-time self-protection expert. I spent decades teaching mostly young men across the world how to fight, how to protect themselves, all under the banner of ‘self-defence.’ My students ranged from civilians to military and law enforcement professionals. In many ways, teaching violence became my career. It was both a calling and a contradiction that I wrestled with daily.

In the environment I was raised in, violence wasn’t just a necessity; it was a way of life, a problem-solving tool. It felt natural to teach it, to share it, to rely on it. But as I approached 50, I began to question it all deeply and honestly. I couldn’t escape the nagging sense that something was profoundly wrong, not just in the world around me but in the very foundation of what I’d come to accept as normal.

The Love-Hate Relationship with Violence

This wasn’t a sudden realisation. I’d wrestled morally with my role in the world of violence since I was young. I never had a violent nature, but circumstances taught me two things: how to avoid violence whenever possible and how to use it decisively when there was no other choice. Throughout my years as a martial arts instructor, I found myself constantly torn, both fascinated by and repelled by violence. The contradiction lay not only in my actions but also in the societal attitudes toward violence: what was praised as ‘sport’ in a ring was condemned on the street. Society was fine with violent “entertainment” but quick to condemn violence elsewhere.

In teaching martial arts, I encouraged young men to develop strength, confidence, and resilience, all of which, at face value, are positive traits. But as I grew older, I couldn’t ignore the irony: we tell our children that violence isn’t the answer, yet we still send our sons and daughters off to fight wars, to protect ‘national interests’ or uphold vague ideals. The very society that condemns violence in one context celebrates it in another.

This contradiction goes deeper than mixed messages—it’s woven into the fabric of our lives. Now, in my 50s, I see violence at the root of so much of humanity’s suffering. It seeps into our relationships with each other, with ourselves, and with the planet. And I’ve come to understand that what we desperately need isn’t more strength to fight; it’s the courage to evolve beyond violence.

Confronting the Reality of Violence as a Curse

At the heart of my reflection lies a sobering truth: violence isn’t a gift or a survival instinct that serves us; it’s a curse. It may appear useful in certain situations, but its effects ripple out far beyond the immediate moment. Violence, even when ‘justified,’ leaves a residue. It creates scars, both seen and unseen. It may resolve an immediate threat, but it leaves in its wake trauma, fear, and often a cycle of vengeance that persists through generations.

In my years teaching martial arts, I encountered countless students who came with their own stories of violence, trauma, and resilience. For some, learning to defend themselves was a way to reclaim a sense of control after an experience of powerlessness. But I began to notice a troubling pattern: for every victory over violence, there was a deeper injury that lingered, often unaddressed. And while self-defence skills might have given my students temporary peace of mind, it rarely addressed the deeper wound that violence leaves behind.

As an instructor, I had to reckon with the reality that, by teaching people to protect themselves with violence, I might also be perpetuating the very cycle I wanted to end. I came to understand that while violence might be necessary in certain situations, it is never without cost. And that cost isn’t just personal—it’s societal.

Living with the Contradiction

Living with this contradiction has been one of the most difficult aspects of my journey. How do I reconcile a lifetime spent teaching violence with a growing conviction that violence, at its core, does more harm than good? Can I hold space for both truths—that violence can be a necessary tool in certain situations and that, ultimately, it’s a destructive force that we must strive to move beyond?

For years, I tried to compartmentalise this contradiction, to keep my beliefs about the harm of violence separate from my role as a ‘self-defence’ instructor. But compartmentalisation only works for so long. The more I taught, the more I found myself questioning, wrestling, and, ultimately, hoping for something different.

This is where existential thought offers some solace. Existentialism teaches us that we are defined by our choices, and in making those choices, we create ourselves anew each day. Living authentically means accepting our contradictions, not erasing them. It means acknowledging that I can hold both perspectives—that I can believe in the importance of self-defence while recognising that violence is a curse we must work to transcend.

Towards a Transpersonal Evolution: Moving Beyond Violence

Reflecting on humanity’s future, I’m increasingly convinced that our next evolution isn’t one of physical change but a profound shift in consciousness. What we need is a transpersonal evolution—a collective movement beyond violence. For millennia, violence has been our answer to conflict, our response to fear. It’s an ancient reflex, deeply embedded in our psyche from a time when survival depended on brute strength. But today, clinging to that reflex only deepens our wounds and divides.

Imagine a world where our instincts lean toward empathy and understanding rather than aggression. This shift, this transcendence beyond violence, would be humanity’s greatest evolution. It would mean redefining strength—not as the capacity to overpower, but as the courage to understand, to connect, to find peace without force.

The journey to this new paradigm won’t be easy. It requires us to confront the violence within ourselves, to question the narratives we’ve been handed, and to redefine what it means to be strong. True strength, I now believe, lies in the ability to choose compassion over aggression, to resolve conflicts without force, and to seek understanding over dominance.

The Path Forward: Embracing Compassion as an Act of Courage

Moving beyond violence doesn’t mean denying our anger, our frustrations, or even our capacity for harm. It means transforming that energy. Existentialism reminds us that while we can’t change the fact that violence exists, we can choose how we respond to it. We have the power to take responsibility for our choices, to live intentionally and compassionately, even when the world around us glorifies aggression and confrontation.

To live beyond violence is to embrace a philosophy of compassion. This isn’t about moral superiority; it’s about survival and peace. Every act of violence drives us further from the unity and understanding we seek. In choosing compassion, we aren’t avoiding conflict; we’re engaging with it at a deeper level, addressing its root causes rather than treating its symptoms.

In my own life, I strive to embody this shift. My work as an instructor now focuses less on teaching techniques of force and more on fostering resilience, awareness, and empathy. I encourage my students to recognise that true power lies in self-mastery, not in overpowering others. I teach them that there’s a way to live courageously without violence, a way to stand strong without harming.

The Final Frontier: Humanity’s Journey Beyond Violence

As I look to the future, I can’t help but imagine a world where violence is no longer our default response. A world where we evolve not just in body, but in spirit—a shift from a species defined by conflict to one defined by compassion. This is the next frontier of human evolution, a step beyond the limitations of our ancient instincts. It’s a vision that may sound idealistic, but I believe it’s within our reach.

Living beyond violence requires courage, resilience, and, above all, a willingness to confront the darkness within ourselves. It asks us to reject the narratives we’ve inherited and to build a new story—one where strength is defined not by our capacity to inflict harm, but by our ability to connect, to understand, and to love.

This is the work of our time, the evolution that our world so desperately needs. And as we strive toward it, we might just find that we are finally, truly free.

PS. If this article resonated with you, and you want to explore this further take a look at my Mindful-Warrior blog HERE.