What’s Your Barometer?
One of the responsibilities of any master is to hold the ‘barometer’—for the students, for the art, and for yourself. You have to be able to determine what is the minimum standard that you require, and what’s necessary to reach it. That includes not just the technical aspects of your art, but the mindset, the approach, and the clarity of direction.
This becomes particularly apparent in the martial arts but applies to disciplines across the world. You’ve got to know what you dial up and what you dial down. For example, it’s easy to take things slowly, to focus on getting it right bit by bit. And of course, that’s part of learning. But ultimately, what’s the threshold? What’s the standard for speed, for power, for presence? What does it look like? What does it feel like? And when does it need to happen?
Because here’s the truth: if you stop testing your edge—if you start accepting things that you wouldn’t have accepted before—it’s not long before standards begin to slip. And not just for you. When your barometer slips, your students' standards slip. And when that happens, within one or two generations or less, the effectiveness of the art is lost. It becomes form without function and choreography without application.
This is not a small risk. And it happens quietly. Wisdom and the arts take years to develop – but they die with a whisper…
People talk about ageing, about life getting busy. But a lot of the time, it’s not age—it’s simply that we stop wanting to challenge the edge. Life pressures take over—family, work, finances and more. And before we know it, we’re no longer holding the line.
So your barometer matters – not just as a concept, but as a lived tool.
The Realisation
There was a period where I would watch senior students go on to run their own schools independently, and over the course of two or three years, I’d see their standard decline. At first, I didn’t quite understand it. It wasn’t a lack of talent. It wasn’t a lack of care. But something was missing.
I used to think it was because I wasn’t there, pushing them. That maybe they just needed me to motivate them more. But over time, I realised that wasn’t the root of it. The truth is: it was my failure. I had failed to install the barometer in them.
They had relied on me for the standard, for the push, for the edge. But when I wasn’t there, they didn’t have the tool themselves. And that, I now see clearly, is one of the master’s most important roles—to instil the barometer in others. To show what great looks like, yes. But also to give others the mechanism to check themselves, to recalibrate, to stay sharp—even when no one’s watching.
And when you do that—when you succeed in installing it—you see something beautiful. You see students who are constantly reflecting, refining, and looking to improve. They know how good they are, but they also know they can be better. They find joy in the “a-ha” moments. They are honest. And they are never satisfied—not because they think they’re not enough, but because they love the process of getting better. That’s the shift - from motivating others to giving them the tool that sustains them.
Leading by Example
There’s a teaching principle that says: whatever mistakes you make will be amplified by your students. In my experience that’s true—not just technically, but energetically.
If you don’t hold your own standard, you can’t expect anyone else to. And the truth is without this, they probably won’t. So whether you’re teaching martial arts, coaching, leading a team or raising children—it’s the same. You model the barometer. That means you lead by example, even when no one sees it. In fact, especially when no one sees it.
It also means you must see clearly where you are. You must know when you’ve drifted. And you must have the courage to bring yourself back to the edge.
As a leader, when your students, team, or peers share the barometer with you, something profound shifts. The dynamic moves from one where you are the lone driver, constantly having to motivate or correct, to one where the standard becomes both implicit and explicit in everything the group does. It is no longer a matter of pushing others forward. Instead, the shared barometer creates a living culture—a way of working and being that energises rather than depletes. What was once a potential drain instead becomes a shared source of momentum.
Spiritually and philosophically, it also opens the possibility of finding deeper meaning in what you do—moving beyond surface-level activity into a more aligned, purposeful way of being.
Vision and Joy
One of the key elements of the barometer is vision. We often talk about “visionaries” as people who can see what the future could be. But in reality, vision starts with being able to see what should be right now. Even if you don’t yet have the answer, you know something’s off. You feel when something isn’t quite right—and you stay with it. You play with it and you refine it until it starts to come together.
This is something I experience all the time in martial arts. I’ll often say, “That’s not quite right,” even when I can’t immediately say why. And then I’ll work with it until it’s clean. There’s a seriousness in that —but there’s also joy.
This joy is critical. Taking your practice seriously doesn’t mean it has to be solemn. Some of the biggest smiles I’ve seen are when people are truly connecting with what they are doing. They are experiencing both the joy of flow and the joy of development.
Years ago, my sister used to come along to my seminars and take photos. I was in my late teens and early twenties. And she’d always say the same thing: “What is it with you weird people? You start hitting each other and then you all start smiling.”
What she had experienced was a group of people from different backgrounds, roles, ages and demographics coming together to experience the joy of progress and real, embodied learning. Those smiles were the face of mastery in motion.
Modern Methods but Timeless Standards
The way I teach now in 2025 is very different from how I taught in 2000. The methods have changed. The psychology has changed. The environment has changed. But the standard hasn’t.
That’s the point. You can use modern understanding—new techniques, better tools and improved ways of communicating. But the barometer must remain clear. You must know what excellence looks like. You must feel it in your body. You must be able to say, “That’s it.” Or, just as importantly, “That’s not it yet.” And the danger—what I see all too often—is accepting “almost.” Accepting second-best.
Terminal decline happens in tiny increments. In letting things slide just a little. In softening what’s acceptable just a touch. And over time, that changes the entire art.
So again, we come back to the barometer.
The Components of the Barometer
There are a few key elements I see in a strong barometer:
Vision – Can you see where you want to be, even if you’re not there yet?
Standard – Do you know what good looks like, and what great feels like?
Awareness – Are you honest with yourself about where you are now?
Edge – Are you working just past your comfort zone, where growth happens?
Pressure – Do you have the internal or external pressure to keep going?
Direction – Are you aligned with your path, your purpose, your centreline?
These apply in martial arts, but they also apply everywhere—in leadership, in writing, in sport, in parenting and in business. The barometer is a universal tool for anyone serious about mastery.
Closing Reflection
So I come back to the question I began with, but now with greater clarity:
What’s your barometer?
Where are you accepting something today that you wouldn’t have accepted yesterday?
Where are you drifting, even slightly, from your own gold standard?
Where has life pulled you into comfort?
And where, truly, are you better than you were one year ago?
Your art depends on your answer. And so does your legacy.
Sifu