The Arrogance of Ignorance
I was young, ignorant, and arrogant.
And honestly? How could I not be?
Picture this: a kid growing up on a rock in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, 3,000 miles and a six-hour plane ride from anything.
Honolulu was my entire universe—a beautiful prison of palm trees and perpetual sunshine where the horizon seemed to mock any dreams of something bigger.
All I knew was what I knew from this small rock. And what I knew was limited, filtered through the lens of island mentality where many people lived trapped in a poverty mindset, blaming the past for their current situation in life, pointing fingers at foreigners—especially Caucasians, who we called “haoles”—as the source of all our problems.
Sure, there was historical evidence of imperialism and racial injustice. The wounds were real, the grievances legitimate. But just sitting there complaining about it, nursing old resentments like sacred relics, wasn’t doing anyone any good. It wasn’t moving us forward, it wasn’t creating solutions, and it certainly wasn’t making anyone happy.
Yet this was the water I swam in, the air I breathed. I thought this narrow slice of human experience was the whole pie. I thought the stories I’d inherited about who was to blame and why life was hard were universal truths rather than regional folklore.
I was wrong. Spectacularly, embarrassingly wrong.
Leaving Paradise for the Unknown
At 20, I made a decision that would fundamentally alter the trajectory of my life: I left Hawaii for California.
Now, California was larger and more diverse than my island home, but it was still “American”—still carrying its own baggage, still wrestling with its own demons.
The Golden State had its own issues as a part of the broader United States: diverse, yes, but not necessarily inclusive in its own complex ways. I’d simply traded one set of limitations for another, one echo chamber for a slightly larger echo chamber.
But it was a start. It was movement. And movement, I would learn, is the beginning of all transformation.
For the first time, I was surrounded by people who hadn’t grown up with the same stories I’d inherited. They had different complaints, different scapegoats, different explanations for life’s challenges. Their certainties contradicted my certainties, and that contradiction was the first crack in my armor of ignorance.
The Book That Changed Everything
Then I encountered a book that would shatter my small-world perspective entirely: “The Art of Happiness” by the Dalai Lama.
This wasn’t just another self-help book or philosophical treatise. This was something different—the wisdom of someone who had every reason to be bitter, angry, and resentful, yet radiated a kind of joy that seemed to transcend circumstances.
Here was a man who had lost his country, been exiled from his homeland, watched his people suffer under occupation—and yet spoke about happiness as a skill to be cultivated rather than a condition to be waited for.
As I absorbed his words, something profound began to dawn on me: At the core, all human beings are alike.
We all seek to be:
- Respected for who we are
- Accepted despite our flaws
- Allowed to live with dignity
- Free to learn and grow
- Able to love and be loved
- Permitted to leave some kind of legacy
- Capable of raising families and caring for our children
- Simply, fundamentally happy
This realization was revolutionary. It meant that the haoles I’d been taught to resent were seeking the same things I was seeking. The mainlanders I’d viewed with suspicion wanted the same basic human experiences I wanted. The “them” I’d been taught to oppose were actually just more versions of “us.”
The Machinery of Division
As this new understanding took root, I began to notice something disturbing: organizations of all types actively sought power by sowing division. They created “us vs. them” dynamics as a way of collecting, harnessing, and using power to obtain even more power.
This pattern was everywhere:
- Businesses that thrived by making consumers feel inadequate without their products
- Religious groups that maintained control by emphasizing their exclusivity and others’ spiritual deficiency
- Political organizations that gained followers by amplifying fear and resentment toward opposing groups
- Governments that justified their authority by maintaining external enemies and internal divisions
The formula was always the same: identify a group to blame, amplify the differences between “us” and “them,” then position yourself as the solution to the manufactured problem. It was brilliant in its simplicity and devastating in its effectiveness.
I realized that my small-island mentality hadn’t been unique—it had been a local version of a global pattern. Every community, every culture, every nation seemed to have its own version of the same story: “We are good, they are bad, and that’s why things are difficult.”
The Universal Human Experience
and future destinations (green flags)
As I became more fortunate and began to travel—eventually visiting almost 40 countries and meeting people from over 60 different nations—this insight only deepened. The more I traveled, the more I realized we really are more alike than we are different.
But here’s the crucial point: you don’t get to see and feel this without traveling.
In a café in Seoul, Korea, I met a businessman worried about providing for his family—just like my friends back home.
In Khan el-Khalili in Cairo, Egypt, I encountered a vendor who lit up when talking about his children’s achievements—exactly like parents everywhere.
On a train ride from Switzerland to Italy, I befriended an elderly man who spoke passionately about the changes he’d seen in his lifetime—with the same mixture of nostalgia and hope I’d heard from grandparents across the globe.
In a pub in Ireland, I shared stories with locals who dreamed of travel and adventure—the same dreams that had pulled me away from my island.
Each conversation, each connection, each moment of genuine human contact reinforced the same truth: underneath our different languages, customs, and cultural programming, we’re all dealing with the same fundamental human experiences.
The Comfort Zone Prison
This brings me to a startling statistic that explains so much about why division and fear dominate our public discourse: approximately 80% of US citizens, have not lived outside a 100-mile radius from where they grew up, and 50% of them do not even have a passport.
That’s over 273,000,000 people in the US never leaving home!
Think about that for a moment. Eight out of ten Americans have never experienced what I experienced—the profound shift that comes from realizing that their local version of reality is just one option among many.
They stay where it’s comfortable, where it’s safe, where it’s familiar. They marinate in the same stories, the same explanations, the same certainties their entire lives. Their truth is the only truth they’ve ever truly encountered, so of course it feels absolutely, unquestionably correct.
This isn’t their fault—comfort zones are seductive, and breaking out of them requires resources, courage, and opportunity that not everyone has access to. But it does explain why so many people remain trapped in limited perspectives, why they’re vulnerable to manipulation by power-seeking organizations, and why they find it difficult to empathize with experiences different from their own.
The Warrior’s Different Path
But a warrior does not live that way.
A warrior chooses to leave his or her comfort zone. Not because comfort is bad, but because comfort can become a prison if it’s never voluntarily abandoned.
A warrior explores the world, physically when possible, intellectually always. They seek out experiences that challenge their assumptions and expand their understanding.
A warrior tests out his beliefs, ideas, and stories rather than accepting them as inherited gospel. They’re willing to discover that what they thought was the whole truth was actually just one piece of a much larger puzzle.
A warrior finds his truth rather than regurgitating the truth from the past, from others, or from power-seeking, dogma-pushing organizations. They take responsibility for their own understanding rather than outsourcing their thinking to authorities.
This is why the warrior’s path leads to happiness: because happiness comes from freedom, and freedom comes from breaking out of the mental prisons we inherit or construct for ourselves.
Facing the Shadow, Finding the Light
A warrior is happy because he has faced his fears and come to see that his shadow, while scary, isn’t as powerful as the light that comes from being lifted from ignorance, smallness, or “safety.”
My shadow was the scared, small-minded kid from Hawaii who needed someone else to be wrong for me to feel right. Who needed an enemy to explain away life’s difficulties. Who preferred the comfort of inherited resentments to the challenge of personal growth.
That shadow was real, and it was scary to confront. It meant acknowledging that much of what I’d believed about the world was incomplete or simply wrong. It meant admitting that I’d wasted years being angry at people who were just trying to navigate life like everyone else. It meant taking responsibility for my own happiness rather than waiting for historical injustices to be resolved or external circumstances to improve.
But facing that shadow revealed something more powerful: the light of understanding.
The light that shows us we’re all in this together, despite what the power-seekers want us to believe.
The light that reveals happiness as a skill we can develop rather than a condition we have to wait for.
The light that illuminates the profound joy that comes from connection rather than division, understanding rather than judgment, curiosity rather than certainty.
The Ongoing Journey
I am no longer that small-minded, ignorant, arrogant kid from Hawaii. I’ve been traveling and learning much, expanding my perspective with each new experience, challenging my assumptions with each new encounter.
But here’s what I’ve learned about the warrior’s path: the more I learn, the more I realize that I do not know much, and that I have so much more to learn.
This isn’t discouraging—it’s exhilarating.
Because it means the journey never ends. There are always new perspectives to explore, new people to meet, new ways of understanding the human experience. There are always opportunities to shed another layer of ignorance, to face another shadow, to discover another piece of light.
The warrior’s happiness doesn’t come from having arrived at some final destination of understanding. It comes from embracing the journey itself, from finding joy in the process of continuous growth and discovery.
The Practical Warrior’s Path
So how does one begin walking the warrior’s path to happiness? How do you start breaking out of the comfort zones and inherited stories that limit your joy?
Start with Intellectual Travel
If physical travel isn’t immediately possible, begin with intellectual exploration:
- Read books by authors from different cultures and backgrounds
- Watch documentaries about places and people unlike yourself
- Listen to podcasts featuring perspectives that challenge your assumptions
- Engage with online communities from different parts of the world
- Learn a new language to access different ways of thinking
Practice Perspective-Taking
- Before judging someone’s actions, ask yourself what circumstances might have led them to that choice
- When you feel angry at a group of people, try to identify what fear or insecurity might be driving that anger
- Challenge yourself to find something admirable in people you typically disagree with
- Seek out stories of individuals who’ve overcome circumstances similar to those you blame for your limitations
Question Your Certainties
- Make a list of things you’re absolutely certain about, then research alternative viewpoints
- Ask yourself where your strongest opinions came from—personal experience or inherited beliefs?
- Experiment with temporarily adopting opposing viewpoints to see what you might learn
- Practice saying “I don’t know” when you realize your knowledge is incomplete
Seek Connection Over Division
- Look for common ground with people who seem different from you
- Focus on individual humans rather than abstract groups when forming opinions
- Practice empathy by imagining yourself in others’ circumstances
- Choose conversation over confrontation when encountering different viewpoints
Plan Real Adventures
Even small steps outside your comfort zone can yield warrior-like insights:
- Visit a neighborhood in your city that you’ve never explored
- Attend events hosted by cultural communities different from your own
- Travel to a nearby city and engage with locals about their perspectives
- Take a class or workshop that challenges you to think differently
- Volunteer with organizations serving populations you don’t usually interact with
The Happiness That Comes from Understanding
The warrior’s happiness is different from the happiness that comes from comfort or validation. It’s not the happiness of being right—it’s the happiness of being free.
Free from the need to make others wrong in order to feel good about yourself.
Free from the prison of limited perspectives and inherited resentments.
Free from the manipulation of organizations that profit from your fear and division.
Free to connect with the full spectrum of human experience.
Free to find joy in understanding rather than satisfaction in judgment.
This freedom doesn’t require you to abandon your values or lose your identity. It requires you to distinguish between your authentic values and the stories you’ve inherited about who to blame and why to be afraid.
It requires you to find your own truth rather than accepting the truth that others want to sell you.
The Invitation
I invite you to join me on this journey.
Not necessarily to the same physical places I’ve been, but to the same willingness to question, explore, and grow. To the same commitment to face your shadows and seek your light. To the same courage to leave the comfort of inherited certainties for the adventure of discovered understanding.
The warrior’s path is not easy. It requires you to give up the simple comfort of us-vs-them thinking. It asks you to take responsibility for your own happiness rather than waiting for external circumstances to change. It demands that you face the uncomfortable truth that much of what you’ve believed might be incomplete or wrong.
But the warrior’s path is joyful in a way that comfort-zone living never can be. Because it leads to genuine understanding, authentic connection, and the profound happiness that comes from seeing the world—and your place in it—clearly.
The choice is yours: You can stay on your island, physical or metaphorical, nursing your inherited resentments and waiting for someone else to solve your problems. You can continue to let power-seeking organizations tell you who to blame and why to be afraid.
Or you can choose the warrior’s way. You can step into the unknown, test your assumptions, seek understanding over judgment, and discover the art of happiness for yourself.
The journey begins with a single step outside your comfort zone. The destination is a joy that no external circumstance can take away and no authority can sell back to you.
What will you choose?
The warrior’s path is calling. Your shadows are waiting to be faced. Your light is waiting to be discovered. The only question is: are you ready to begin?