Bruce Lee: Letters of the Dragon. Bruce Lee

      I feel most fortunate to have been the recipient of many of Bruce’s heartfelt expressions. A wave of nostalgia washes over me as I relive through his letters the small bits of our everyday life together, punctuated by momentous, destiny-changing events. Bruce’s letters reflect the course of family life—lots of little business, like who’s taking care of the dog, what time does a flight arrive—interspersed with significant drama that shapes direction and growth—the birth of a child, the death of a family member. Not so very different from most people’s lives, except for one thing that is evident in these letters—patterns.

      Patterns This is the most important thing to look for as you read Bruce’s letters. What are the central themes that emerge from Bruce’s artful expressions? Can you spot an idea emerging from Bruce’s pen like a butterfly escaping a cocoon? Can you watch the idea spread its wings and take flight? Can you observe the idea, perhaps now in a new form, as it comes to rest on a higher rung of the ladder of human maturation? An intelligent plan—implementation—realization. This was Bruce. This is how he made his dreams come true.

      In Bruce’s own words, here is a sampling of the patterns or central ideas to look for in his letters:

      • Gung fu is part of my life—the art influences my formation of character and ideas.

      • The goal of my planning and doing is to find the true meaning in life—peace of mind.

      • Never waste energy on worries or negative thoughts.

      • It is not what happens that is success or failure, but what it does to the heart of man. No man is defeated unless he is discouraged.

      • What I honestly value more than anything else is quality: doing one’s best in the manner of the responsibility and craftsmanship of a Number One.

      • This diligently trained body plus a time-tried realistic faith in knowing that I can.

      • It is not what happens in our life that is important, it’s how we react to what happens.

      This last statement has formed a credo in my own life, especially through times of unbearable sadness. Sometimes life is nice, sometimes it is not. But it is the way that we choose to react to the nice and the not-so-nice that ultimately determines our characters.

      One’s life is mostly a matter of choice, the choices we make in response to what happens to us. Take note of Bruce’s choices in his life and the process he employed to make those choices. Keep in mind that these letters represent only a snapshot of the underlying intelligence of the author. In conjunction with the essays, notes, conversations, and interviews contained in other books in the Bruce Lee Library, the total picture of a thiry-two-year-old, highly evolved human being emerges.

      “Life, if thou knowest how to use it, is long enough,” the Roman philosopher Seneca once wrote. And there is no doubt that Bruce knew how best to use the short life he was granted; whether or not it was long enough is not in our power to determine.

      —Linda Lee Cadwell

      Postscript

      Bruce’s native language was Cantonese. He began to study spoken and written English at age twelve. There is a funny story about the first day Bruce attended a school where English was spoken. The students were asked to write their English names. Not understanding the assignment, Bruce looked at his neighbor’s paper and wrote that boy’s name.

      Throughout his life, Bruce thought primarily in Chinese. He even dreamed in Chinese. His grasp of English, however, was excellent. He made a deliberate study of conversational English—an emerging pattern of self-education—and his library includes numerous books on English idioms and expressions. Bruce’s ability to write perfect grammatical English was unsurpassed. He once wrote a paper for me in my freshman year of college because I was getting behind in my assignments (a direct result of being distracted by Bruce).

      You will not always read perfect grammatical English in his letters because, even though he knew the proper rules better than most native speakers of English, he did not always take the time to construct perfect sentences in casual correspondence. Bruce’s thoughts and emotions spilled out onto the paper as, in Chinese, his mind flowed as naturally as the waterfall tumbles over the precipice.

      I will give you my heart, please don’t give me your head only.

      —Bruce Lee

      Absorb Bruce’s letters through the walls of your heart, not through the mental process of your head.

      —Linda Lee Cadwell