Intro: This is Manna’s reflection on pain and self-defense, deepening “Seeking Peace.” It shows how he transformed sorrow and violence into wisdom and peace, with origami as healing—a sacred step in his inner temple.

In a life marked by pain and violence, I began to reflect on the nature of self-defense, on where the line lies between protection and retribution, and what these experiences taught me about the human condition. As a child, I knew the blows of bullies, the loneliness of feeling unsafe, even in places meant for safety. But it was these experiences that forced me to think deeply about what it means to be human in a world that knows both love and violence.

One day, while being held by two larger boys, I felt the rage of years of oppression and fear well up inside me. My father, a man of peace, gave me permission I never expected: “Go ahead and take them on.” It was a paradoxical lesson from a pacifist, teaching me that there are moments when defending your own dignity and safety is necessary. I overpowered them, not out of a desire for violence, but out of a need to survive, to say, “I am here.”

These moments of self-defense were not only physical reactions but also philosophical crossroads. They forced me to reconsider what it means to live in a society where violence sometimes seems to be the language spoken. I began to understand that violence is not just a physical act but also a spiritual and ethical question. Is self-defense a justification of violence, or is it a necessary evil that brings us back to the question of what peace truly means?

I went to high school with these lessons in my heart; it was no longer just about fighting, but about surviving and, ultimately, healing. I decided I would never let myself be hit again, not out of a desire for revenge, but from a deep conviction that my body and mind are sacred. I began to train, not only to become physically stronger, but to learn the discipline needed for self-control, another form of peace.

The wisdom I’ve drawn from these experiences is that self-defense, in the moment of attack, can be a form of self-love, an acknowledgment of your own worth. But revenge, which only expands the cycle of violence, is a denial of that love, a loss of humanity. It’s a lesson in ethics: our actions define us, violence is a choice, and peace begins with ourselves, with how we respond to the world around us.

My work with origami for peace is a manifestation of this philosophy. Each piece of paper I fold is a meditation on the possibility of peace, a reminder that something beautiful can arise from the flattest forms, just as wisdom and compassion can grow from the darkest experiences. It is this reflection that drives me, that teaches me that life is not only about overcoming violence, but about creating a world where violence is no longer needed.

So, I have become what I am now: a philosopher of the fist and peace, who, through the lessons of pain, through reflections on faith, love, and the human condition, has found a deeper understanding of life. I learn not only how to fight, but also how to heal, how to build, and how to be.