Battle for the Soul of Kung Fu

A great article on the current Shaolin Temple and Shaolin Kung Fu. Does anyone know anything about the people in this article? Yang Guiwu, Hu Zhengsheng, and Shi Dejian? And the new temple that Shi Dejian built? I'm really happy that not all Shaolin wisdom has been lost to the new touristy-side of the Shaolin Temple in China.

http://ngm.nationalgeographic.com/2011/03/shaolin-kung-fu/gwin-text

Watch the video and look at the picture slide show too. Pretty amazing!!

Amituofo!

Life continues

At the end of last night's class, in addition to the triple Amitoufu's we got a little speech that I thought was a good reminder to myself. It went something like this:

Today is October 12. Tomorrow will be October 13. You can go on crying, saying that you hate yourself, that you are not good. But your lives continue. So move forward and keep laughing.

Heart Sutra

A few of us had taken to memorizing and regularly citing the Heart Sutra earlier this year. I continue citing it in my head whenever I want to slow down and focus. Recently, I happened to read through its translation carefully again. And one more time I thought to myself - what beautiful words they are. I especially like this part:

... in the void there are no forms and no feelings, conceptions, impulses and no consciousness: there is no eye, ear, nose, tongue, body or mind; there is no form, sound, smell, taste, touch or idea; no eye elements, until we come to no elements of consciousness; no ignorance and also no ending of ignorance...

I understand that it's called heart sutra because it's the heart of all teachings in Chan Buddhism.

When I attended a meditation retreat in Thailand earlier this year, I was taught that meditation is a way to achieve exactly the same thing. To realize that all earthly things, tangible or not, are not real. And therefore, to keep my heart and mind empty of distractions and emotions.

This might feel impossible and impractical for our today lives. But to me, just realizing that there's such a teaching helps me to keep my heart flat (more on heart flat in the next post) and put things in perspective.

Life is basically very simple.

The Kip-Up

I make no exaggeration when I say, "the kip-up epitomizes my existence." Let me explain. Ever since I was a child, I have wanted to do the kip-up. I was exposed to Kung Fu at a very young age and Kung Fu soap-dramas was all I watched. They always did amazing feats with their bodies but there was one move that always astounded me, the kip-up. To go from being flat on the ground to standing on two legs in a mere flash. To be defenseless and then all of a sudden, ready for battle. I tried on my own many times with my tiny body. I flopped helplessly over and over again. I thought it must be magic. I gave up.

When I started training at temple, the fiery desire to do the kip-up was ignited anew. I saw it on the list of moves that you get to learn in Level 2. I couldn't wait to learn it. I passed the test for Level 2 almost 1 year ago which means I've been trying to do the kip-up for almost a year. This past week, I got it.

There's a split second where the mind must erase all doubt. Only then will you be able to get up. That infinitesimal fraction is the most important thing. It is the division of greatness and mediocrity. The whole world is in that space and in that time. I could spend lifetimes there and not even begin to bear witness to its genius. It is through that darkness can you then be bathed in light.

The journey of learning the kip-up has been absolutely wonderful. New challenges, new thrills, new paradigms have been enveloped by it. These days, I can't wait to fall down, so I can kip-up back up again.

"In rain during a dark night, enter that darkness." -Shiva

Amituofo!

This Is Why I Train

It changed over the year. At the beginning, it was to stop thinking - for at least two hours during class. I was obsessed with my doomed relationship and self-pity. I was on a verge of depression. I learned to be present and mindful of things around me rather than just stayed in my own head.

And then I got over it.

I opened up and got to know more people at the temple. I realized I did not have to pretend to be accepted and liked. I could have friends I liked and liked me back for who I was in New York City! At the time, I trained because I was lonely. I wanted to make friends. I learned to open up and be comfortable with myself.

And then I started liking myself. I didn't need to be around people to not be lonely anymore.

Then it's because of Kungfu. I kept training because I wanted to be good. I wanted to kiss my toes and do all kinds of cool things other people can do. I liked learning and pushing my body to do things I never imagined doing. I remember the first time I did Ceshoufan. I had a surgery on the left shoulder not more than a year prior. I was mortified. But I did it. I liked the rush I had after the class - the feeling of accomplishing something difficult. I learned to be humble and confident at the same time.

And then that stopped too. I have been training only in Level 1 with the same routines over and over. I hardly do anything new anymore. I learned to find ways to improve what I know. I keep telling myself I can always learn - not a new move or a new form - but about myself. But that sometime wavers.

I still keep training at least 3 times a week. And I ask myself - why? What do I like so much about being there that even crumbling knees cannot stop me?

I think it's the positive energy - the chi. It's infectious. It makes me a positive and happy person. Maybe I do believe that through training I will one day understand myself. Or maybe I'm just addicted to pain.

Why do you train?

Pushing the Limits

Pushing the Limit is a NY Times series of articles and multimedia profiling athletes who confront an opponent that must be mastered, not beaten.

I found this week's article really encouraging. It is about a runner that has gotten better with age, not worse. Matt Carpenter's training philosophy is similar to ours. "Go out hard; when it hurts, speed up."

Link to Article

Stretching with Shifu

(Amituofo! A guest entry from our class leader tonight, Shi Heng De.)

So tonight when I was about to call everyone back into lines after stretching, a bunch of people were doing cetitui stretch after Shifu had been doing it with Randy and Khalid. So I thought, "Hey, that looks good, let's all do it."

Luckily for me I was the odd one out, so I asked Shifu to stretch me. So I paid attention to his technique. I got as sideways as I could, straightened my leg, and just relaxed. It would be great if everyone knew how to stretch people like he does! So he raised my leg up to where there was pretty good resistance (not from me -- I was relaxed, but from my leg), but I wasn't dying. I was still able to flex my foot even more. That's not to say I wasn't getting a good stretch though. Believe me, I felt it!

Maybe I should not train for 5 days in a row more often: I hit the middle split tonight and was able to extend my back up off the floor too. I know I'm gonna feel it tomorrow though!

But, anyway, he held that for just a few seconds, then brought my leg down and told me to relax more. Then he shook the leg around a bit to help it relax. He said, "Now can go more." And when he brought it up a second time, it did go up more.

After the second round, he told me to relax again, and then, using his chest against my foot, pushed my knee to my shoulder, still on the sideways axis. This was to counterstretch, and we do the same thing when we do zhengtitui stretch, or the butterfly stretch after middle splits.

When he did my other side, the knee-to-shoulder stretch really pushed it for me (my left hip can't open up much) and my right (standing) leg started to bend without me even realizing it. Shifu noticed and gave a light kick to my shin to remind me.

Oh yea and I didn't even tell him when to stop or anything; he just stopped because he could feel it himself. After you stretch with other people a lot you start to be able to feel their bodies just from holding them and looking at them I think. So stretch together more! :)

So to me it was the same as how we do multiple rounds for straddle stretch or anything, or how I get in my stretching machine around 6 then go out a bit, then a few minutes later come back again and go more. First round relaxes and opens you up a bit, but subsequent rounds are where you really go further. And each time, Shifu didn't hold it for that long. Maybe it was because we were in the middle of class and it was a time thing, or maybe that's just a good way to do it.

Try different things and see what works for you! Be honest with yourself and push yourself! Train harder!

Food for Thought

This past Sunday, after testing, Sifu's comments were that we were getting sloppy and slow. Not exactly the summary one hopes for. "Sifu!" I wanted to cry, "I had the stomach flu! I've barely eaten for 5 days!"

I managed to refrain. my only goals going into testing were to not pass out or throw up. But his words stuck with me, especially as he repeated them to the seven lonely people that showed up for Level 2 Monday night. He added, "No more. Starting today always be strong. Always be sharp."

"But Sifu!" I wanted to cry, "I had the stomach flu! I've barely eaten for 5 days!"

I couldn't bear being a disappointment, but instead of protesting, I shut up and began class. It was awesome and totally bizarre. After ten minutes we were still working on caijiao. By 7:30 we had gotten through three basic moves. By 8:00 we had finished going over 6 moves, all L1 basics.
You can imagine the intensity with which we were executing and fine-tuning the details of every kick. It wasn't at all frustrating but instead rejuvenating to get the tough love and be forced to go back and do those very first basics upon which we constantly build. During stretching, Sifu made a side comment, "Push yourself -- if it was easy everyone would be a master."

By the end of class something clicked. I didn't need to cry my excuse to Sifu because it didn't matter. I should have approached testing with as much chi as ever. Sure I had been sick, but I was kidding myself if I couldn't admit that part of the problem was the week I took off before the bout of illness. Before that I had taken another week off from an earlier bout of flu. There may have been sickness mingled up in there, but I was indulging it and more than the dehydration from stomach flu, the only 2 days of training in a span of nearly three weeks was more to blame. You can only lie to yourself just so much, before you realize your making excuses to make yourself feel better about something you feel guilty having done. I needed some time off; that was fine. But that was my choice and I can't milk an illness to justify that choice. You have to be confident in your decisions and then won't feel the need to justify them later.

So I can't go in and say, "I had the stomach flu!" and then settle for making it through without passing out and throwing up. That's trying to cover the fact that I was not feeling right about my choice not to train before that point. I needed to have gone in there with the highest level of chi I could muster. The same goes for class. I choose to come. As Sifu says, "Don't waste your life. You come to temple, then train harder." So I shouldn't come to training without giving it 100%. Even if physically or mentally I'm not at my optimum place, I can give all of whatever I have. Doing that, I'll have nothing to regret, nothing to reprimand myself for, and there won't be any reason not to be proud of every choice I make. I won't need excuses and I won't to worry if Sifu thinks I'm training hard enough; I'll know I am through being honest with myself and he'll see it. So, to sum up this public moralizing, let's try to do what we profess and train harder.

A few words from Heng Ji (Branden)

With testing coming up this weekend for most, I thought a little reflection might be appropriate.

- If your body is strong but your mind is lazy, you lack the mental discipline and focus to train harder and push your body further.

- Finish stronger than you began.

- True happiness come from a life that is fulfilled.

- A truly happy life is a life of action, not distraction.
True happiness comes from mastering and polishing your life.

It comes from self-respect and self-confidence, from developing harmony and balance so that you can savor 'THIS' moment, here and now, for the beautiful gift that it is.

- Happiness is spreading peace and love to the people around you.

That is the warrior way.

- Be fully mindful of the moment.

- Commit yourself to training everyday.

Good luck to everyone!

Many Happy Returns!

Last night was my Shaolin two-year anniversary. Hard to believe. I remember when I began and seeing the people who had been training for two years and thinking "Wow, I hope I can stick it out that long and be even half that good. They are so hardcore..." It's weird to imagine that I might now be that person in the eyes of people just now starting their training journey; I generally still feel like such a beginner. Last night, though, I felt everything come together in a remarkable way.

To begin with, it was a big class just like the good old days: 36 people! Maybe it was the size, because I felt like training was easier than usual. Or maybe it was the heat giving us a break, or that I was chock full of sugar. My endurance was up, nothing seriously hurt- anniversary chi? Certainly part of it was the great people training beside me. Not only were many of my fellow dorks there in force, but several of the old guard, who usually only show up to L2 were there as well. Xu was teaching, Han and Khalid both turned up, and I felt exactly in the right place: the middle.

Two years is no small feat for me, and though I hope to have many more ahead, in taking stock of my training I felt very satisfied. I could sit and list all the moves and forms I've learned, list my weight loss and muscle gain, tabulate out the total amount of $$ spent on tuition and uniforms and countless feiyues, the hours spent in Temple, but none of that would really convey what has happened in the last two years. Training has given me so much perspective on myself, taught me so many things beyond kicks and stances, and provided me with a new path in my life.

I like to think that even if I had to leave tomorrow I would be able to continue to cultivate what I've started there, but I know it would be hard. Coming off of several busy weeks of being in and out of town and having house-guests, I haven't been able to train my usual schedule, and it was hard to get my lazy bum to class last night. As soon as training started though, I felt 100% better and everything began to slide back into place. So maybe it will take a few more years before I am genuinely carrying the temple everywhere. Until then I am simply thankful for how much I've gained, the opportunity to gain even more, and for the ability to share this time of my life with all the amazing people I've met there. Amituofo!

Moving Forward One Caijiao at a Time

I think I’ve mentioned before that sometimes during class, when the going gets tough, I remind myself that this is as hard as it can get. Every class will be a little easier, because every time I am making myself a little stronger. I think I’ve also mentioned how I know that this is a completely inaccurate and illogical rationale.

Last night though, when Sifu was saying “challenge yourself, move forward not back” I realized just how very inaccurate and illogical my rationale really was. Before, I was thinking it was off because some days you have more sleep, better nutrition and so on and so on. But last night I realized (or re-realized) something else. That if you are always pushing yourself, training will always be hard, no matter if it's L1 or L2. If you're training with the same intensity then you'll always be pushing yourself to that next level. Sure if I kicked as low as I did when I first started, training would be a breeze, but because I’m pushing forward, kicking higher, stances lower, popping harder, it's still just as tough as that very first day. I’m moving forward.

This made me think of one of Sifu’s other axioms, “nothing is difficult, nothing is easy.” I usually focus on the “nothing is difficult” part because telling yourself that nothing is easy isn't really an inspiring though. But in light of my other musings, it’s GOOD that nothing is easy. The day a class becomes easy is the day I'm not pushing myself, not training hard. The pain and difficulty are marks that I’m keeping my resolution to train harder. This all feels familiar, maybe I’ve blogged it before, but it’s a point worth reiterating. At least, I have to reiterate it for myself for when I feel lame still being tired during tengkong fanyao even after doing it for 2 years... But then, enjoying the never-ending ass-kicking is part of what we love about training, right? :D

Wait...Is that ME I'm looking at?

As I walked through the Temple's doors on Saturday, I was immediately struck by two things -- Number 1, there was a PBS television TV crew for the Program Religion and Ethics at the Temple doing a special on 師父 (Shifu). And number 2, there was nobody in class. Well, I think the final number was around 20, but only FOUR Level 2's (Heng Bao, Me, Heng Po, and Aubrey). 師父 obviously would like to have a huge class to show our chi and so I was pumped for class because I knew I would be responsible for not "losing face." (丟臉) When we have guests, 師父 seldom takes the time to introduce them before class starts. This time, they were introduced right after we lined up. You can tell from 師父's face that this was important to him.

I immediately jumped to the front of the line with Heng Bao leading the other side. We walked quite a bit. ( I lost count how many times.) 師父 wanted good technique instead of speed. I don't know how well I did in this department. I am quite comfortable being in front of a camera for my acting, but when the camera was at Temple, I got all flustered and my eyes kept darting towards the camera. And perhaps being too vain, I messed up a few moves. It just goes to show that I have a while to go before I can be comfortable doing Kung Fu in front of a camera. Hopefully, they didn't notice too much or at least can edit my stupid looks at camera out. I'd bet they thought I was some amateur. Sigh...well...luckily, we had Heng Yu pumping everyone up with his chi.

After basics, while in the changing room, one of our temple brothers said, "Nothing like Vanity to pump up your chi, eh?" Class was supposed to have been difficult. I was still sore from the Level 2 class the night before. But class felt invigorating. I had a blast. The best part was at the end when they interviewed 師父 for about 30 minutes. The topics the interviewer tossed were intriguing, and 師父's answers were enlightening. I especially remember this:

Interviewer: "Is there anything difficult that you do?"
師父: "Nothing is difficult. Nothing is easy."

師父 went on to explain that if you want to do it, difficult is easy. If you don't want to do it, even easy things become difficult. This statement really hit home for me. Too often, I rank tasks by order of difficulty, not by whether or not I want to do it. Take my obsession with the Tornado for instance. It is a difficult move, but because I really want to get it, it is almost within reach! Every time I fall, I feel I am getting closer. I look around my life and I definitely don't do that enough. It's time to break this bad habit. If I don't, sooner or later, my life will be surrounded by difficulties too challenging to overcome.

Master Yourself

Today before class I helped Heng Ji rehang the Temple flag. It was definitely an acute training in patience and perseverance but we finally got it up, and Sifu even held the start of class. We ended up finishing class early as well because Sifu's younger brother was here from China, so it was time to celebrate! So training came out to about an hour and 25 minutes. That's basically the length of a daytime class, but combined with the facts that I hadn't trained two days in a row or L1 in almost two weeks, it was definitely a different feel psychologically and thus affected how "tired" I felt. Bad Cheng.

I try really assiduously not to let external things affect how I train: the length of class, who is there, who teaches, the weather, what happened at work, how much I slept, none of it matters in the end. You go in, you find the chi from yourself, and train as hard as you can. But on the way home with Shi, we were talking about how to polish your movements and I had a mini-revelation.

Here's the thing. Training isn't necessarily about finding the chi within; it's about mastering yourself even when you can't find it and training anyway. I have a hard time teaching, I still stumble and mutter, over-explain, and try to inexpertly reiterate all the nifty lessons given to me, but there is one original thought I had that I offered a student the other day and I was pretty proud: It's your leg. That was it.

I was teaching cetitui and I told them, "Don't let your leg swing and pull you over. It's your leg; you control it; make it do what you tell it." They kind of looked at me askance because with being tired at the end of class that sounded like a tall order. But then, amazingly, it worked. Because no matter what is going on, even at the end of an exhausting class when you think you can't move your leg - you can. So you should definitely always be able to get going at the beginning. Mastering myself is something Sifu says a lot that I really try hard to apply both in and out of temple; I really needed the reminder tonight.

A Gentle Reminder

Class tonight felt pretty good. A lot of the usual dorks weren't around, but we had good chi overall. I managed to get through basics without feeling like dying, which was nice.

During forms practice, I started off by doing my usual cycle of chujiquantao followed by yiluquan followed by erluquan. And I'll admit it -- I've become kinda robotic/thoughtless about the second part of class. In recent times I've viewed it more as endurance training as opposed to refining and polishing.

Today, though, lucky for me, quiet Khalid showed up for Level 1. Now, I don't know him very well having not trained in Level 2, but we're Facebook buds and all. In his thoughtful, understated kind of way, he approached me in line after watching me do erluquan in its entirety. He recommended that instead of pounding through erluquan over and over again, as I've been doing, that I ought to break it up into segments and work on strengthening by practicing smaller parts. Details versus big picture kind of stuff. Like straightening my leg during the sweep kick, or dropping down into a deeper pubu.

And so I did -- for the rest of class, I took his advice and didn't feel a need to do erluquan in its entirety again. I did five kicks times five. I practiced sweeps (which I had avoided overdoing since injuring my knee doing a sweep).

Of course, this process is what we do when we are learning the form. Do you remember going over bits again and again? I needed a reminder that it is just as important to break things down and finesse it as it is to finish things.

Studying Shaolin kung fu is a lifelong process. It is not an urgent race with a foreseeable ending. I shouldn't be so focused all the time on getting from point A to point B. The actual path of the journey is crucial as well.

So now that I won't be testing erluquan for another six months from now :P, I'll have plenty of time to work on the details again. And that's really beautiful.

Training In and Out of the Temple

I was cleaning my files out this morning and came across an old correspondence with a shaolin shifu. He had some great advice:

Your desire for deeper understanding is to be encouraged. However, be careful of thinking that happiness lies somewhere else or in doing something else. There are insightful masters who instruct their students to do those things they least like in order to find happiness even in that. The truth is happiness has nothing to do with what activity you are engaged in. That said, truly learning this comes after trying and trying thing after thing and discovering it is not in the thing. Happiness - or freedom from desire and illusion - is always there. It is about letting go, not about gaining. The true master is one who can live this while still engaging in everyday life. That said, it is helpful to develop skills, to practice, to engage in "hard work" (the literal translation of (k)gung fu) towards becoming better at letting go of that which we grasp.

This work can be done anywhere, and need not but can involve martial practice. Any body-centered or somatic endeavor can fit the bill to supplement your practice. The key is engaging in devoted practice towards ultimate compassion. Our recommendation is to find a good meditation instructor, and the most widely available are usually through Zen sitting groups. Begin with this and develop your meditation skills. Seek not to escape to that "better place' but to fully be wherever you are.

Buddhism is not about finding a place that is always happy. It is about realizing there will always be both pleasure and pain, and about recognizing our tendencies to be attracted to pleasure and repulsed by pain, and to find peace in the ebb and flow. And it is about helping others to this realization as well if they wish to be helped. That is the Shaolin way. Yes, martial training can be a tool in this endeavor, but not more so than anything else.

Also, be wary of those claiming to be Shaolin, even or possibly especially in China. You would do well to look closely at the history of China to determine if you think Shaolin is where you think it is today.

We wish you good practice.

The Hidden Temple

At the risk of creating an unmanageable deluge of posts over the course of three days, I would like to draw our attention from the current, all consuming meditation on testing, and focus on something more important: the flag. The Shaolin flag that is.

After suffering injury in gale-force winds last month, the flag was sent away for some reconstructive surgery, but has yet to make a reappearance. Every time I am meandering to Temple either from the subway or from work, I get a little lost in thought and then realized I have no idea if I am on the right block. The Temple may be everywhere, but I need a giant red banner to show me where that is!

Ok, so this isn't really about the flag; it's a big old metaphor for training. Sometimes, I feel like without the flag showing me where I am, or where I'm going, I can't get there. This isn't just in reference to a test or certificate ceremony. It can be a part of a move that I need to appear before I feel like I am making progress towards nailing it. It is about setting up false deadlines and benchmarks for myself in an effort to make progress more tangible and more visible. But what I have realized in the last few weeks, is that, you don't need the flag to find temple. It might make the journey a little more challenging (or if you're inattentive like me, a lot more challenging) but it isn't actually important at all. The marker doesn't make the place more real, and trying to find overt markers for my training doesn't make the training I have done or will do more real either. My bawang zakui isn't perfect. I can't do it one handed; I sure can't do an aerial. And while I do aspire to those things, their absence doesn't negate the improvements that are there.

Realizing this is helping me, slowly, release that anger and frustration that comes from not performing to my desired level. Last night was a really fun class, the chi was out of control. And for me, it was because I realized, I haven't reached the level I want, but look at how much I have learned and how much I have grown. Just as climbing up the stairs in an unmarked building is like sneaking in to a secret ninja society, finding those hidden realizations and achievements in myself is equally rewarding. Maybe not as rewarding as the day I can wear a big red flag that says SHAOLIN WARRIOR HERE. I've never been subtle. But still, it's a start.

I had a Dream...

Sunday night I had a bad dream. I couldn't do caijiao. And then everyone was standing around and Sifu cancelled class. He told me if anyone showed up that night then I should teach class. How can someone who doesn't know caijiao teach class?! I looked around frantically for some way out, but I couldn't leave because class was being held at the Hamptons....

Taking a psychoanalytic view of this dream, I would say - I'm a dork. Kung fu is supposed to ALLEVIATE stress, not invade my subconscious and disturb my hours of rest. That's the time for my OTHER anxieties to invade my subconscious. And why am I stressing for testing? Nothing is hanging on it. and even if something was, it doesn't matter. As Mo put it last night, as per Heng Nai, "Kung fu has no meaning, and no purpose." Instead of being depressing I found this very comforting. I mean Buddhism's base tenet is no attachment, so it's kind of antithetical to get worked up over my "action meditation." So to say kung fu has no meaning and no purpose is not to discount it specifically, but a reminder that just like all things in life, it is transitory and it's bad to get wrapped up in it, just like getting wrapped up in money, or people or any of those other things I've let stress me out and give me bad dreams.... Dinosaurs... outer space... high school calculus... Here's hoping now I can get back to having those nightmares instead.... Actually, here's hoping now I can have those dreams only now I know kung fu and can defeat the dinosaurs, or calculus, or whatever....

"Why do we come here?"

I want to post something insightful and/or inspirational about coming back from illness and training hard and so on and so forth. But in my head I just see Sifu telling me to ceshoufan faster, or myself trying vainly to wrench my leg around in mopan saotui. I am starting to feel desperate about ever regaining the head flip; I'm regressing to fear of bawang zakui. Every time I jump I feel like I'm half as high as people who are half my height. I'm not worried about testing. It will come and go and I'll do my best. I'm more concerned that my best has ceased to impress me. I haven't been training two years and already I have learned so much, but then the other half of me says, I've been training almost two years and I still go at a snail's pace in ceshoufan...

I'm not trying to get all gloomy; testing time is always a moment for self-assessment and I feel like I have never trained as hard as I claimed or intended. I mean, if I wanted a better ceshoufan I would have gotten it by now. It's not an aerial. The head flip I had, so there's no excuse for wallowing around in self pity over it. I've spent a lot of my blogging indulging in complaints about this or that soreness, or the alleged difficulty of something. EZ says in class "Not just hard, Hard-ER!" And while this makes myself, Sifu, and everyone else laugh good naturedly, it's true. I'm not saying I don't train hard, but I can definitely train harder.

If you were a kung fu move...

...what would you be? And why? I would be Gongbu shuang tuizhang housatui gongbu liangzhang. Because it's a compilation of a lot of different things. And also it is like a move that has one foot in L1 and one in L2; it sounds more impressive/complicated than it really is.

Thanks to Richu for posing the question. :D

Happy New Year... again

Yesterday was the end of the Chinese new year celebrations and while we missed the parade, after class a bunch of us had fun frolicking with the party-ers in Chinatown. So technically (only not actually) we could say today is the beginning of another new year. So technically we could make resolutions. Well ok, that's not what Chinese New Year is about and we can make resolutions any old day. And they mean more if you actually keep them day to day instead of needing a specific start date. But, I thought I would take this moment to step back and assess my resolutions at least as far as KF is concerned.

Resolution 1. Stop making resolutions... train harder.

Ok done. Seriously, I'm not trying to be clever. Friday night I got to learn more Xiaohongquan and consequently one of my favorite moves in KF. The one where you rotate your arm around your head sort of like you're brushing hair out of your face or something. I always thought it was a really beautiful move that was so Shaolin but not. Like it doesn't look like kung fu per se because it isn't like a strike or a kick, but consequently it is very Shaolin because it shows how learning forms is about more than learning fighting moves, it's about expression and movement and whatnot. My point being, I had looked forward very much to learning this move, when it really has no bearing on improving your skill in kung fu. Now that I've learned it, I haven't gotten any further in improving my ceshoufan or jumping higher in my tornado, or kicking faster in my 5 kicks. I sure haven't done a kip up. Those things don't come from resolutions about "I'm going to learn X, Y or Z." They come from training harder every day until finally you've built the strength and coordination to do them. And SAYING this year I'm going to hit my middle split, is silly when I can just keep training and eventually it will come. So as always, I am going to try to think less and train more. And try really really hard to get the kip up..... :P