For Shaolin Ways Episode 3: Praying Mantis, click here.

This episode of Shaolin Ways is in honor of our 17th Shaolin Special, the SPRING 2019 issue, on newsstands as this article is published. Shaolin Specials aren't always annual. In fact, the first one was 1999, published as a stand-alone special back when newsstands were fat. So in a way, our 2019 Shaolin Special represents the 20th anniversary of Kung Fu Tai Chi Shaolin specials even though it's only #17.

I've been on board for every Shaolin Special and all are close to my heart. Back in 1996, when I took my Shaolin layman disciple vows within the temple itself, the monks charged me with the mission of bringing Shaolin to the west. Prior to my Shaolin vows, I took Buddhist refuge alongside my wife at Soryu-ji, San Francisco Zen Center's Green Dragon Temple; the ceremony served as our wedding vows. So for me, Shaolin is more than just kicking ass and taking names. It's more than donning robes and bowing the Buddhist way when training. Chan Buddhism is my sworn religion.

Being Buddhist, it's distressing to witness religion become such a hot-button issue lately. Tensions between Christians, Jews and Muslims are rising again. And yet, there’s a detachment for us Buddhists because it’s not our fight. We’re heathens. Buddhists seek non-attachment, not detachment – unity not divisiveness. But no matter what your religious beliefs are, you got to have faith. Every religion has a mystical side beyond logic and science. Ecstasy and miracles appear in every ancient scripture. Faith is the foundation of any religion, and that carries delusion.

Most miraculous tales are metaphors, not to be taken literally. Religious fundamentalists who believe in their gospel more than facts misconstrue the message. Here lies the root of so much trouble. This same literality attachment plagues the traditional martial arts. The forms aren’t always literal. They are metaphors too – a martial metaphor. My Shaolin Ways articles are explorations of such metaphors. The word metaphor comes from the Greek "metapherein" which means "to transfer." By repeating the gospel or Kung Fu forms as literal truth instead of metaphoric lessons, transfer gets garbled. This is exacerbated by translator error. All venerable religious scriptures have been translated from an ancient language into English. A large portion of my work as Publisher of Kung Fu Tai Chi involves translating Chinese to English, so believe me when I say that a lot is always lost in translation. You should never take a translation literally. It’s literally not the original. This Shaolin Ways installment is titled "The Big Worthy One," a literal translation of the term "Luohan," but it doesn’t really have that much meaning beyond the metaphor.

Metaphors aside, some fundamentals still must be taken on faith. Throughout my personal Shaolin blogs, my work in Kung Fu Tai Chi, and in my book Shaolin Trips, I've written about the "Shaolin Zone," an ephemeral mystic space that opens for me where Shaolin gets trippy. The Shaolin Zone reaffirms my faith. However, for this 17th Shaolin Special, it hit me harder than ever before.

L-R: Jeff Hung, Dieter Wagner, Shi Decheng, Gene Ching, Nick Handcock, Kevin McAllister.

 

The Shaolin Zone

As I say in the Publisher's Corner, I had trepidations about doing another Shaolin Special since we returned to quarterly last year. I wasn’t sure if Shaolin was really worthy of a full season of exclusive coverage (we actually ended up not being exclusive, but almost). What’s more, when we committed to doing another Special, we only had one Shaolin-oriented article, the cover story.

Previous Shaolin Specials always came together organically, meaning I had a backlog of Shaolin-related articles queued, obligating me to do a special. Nevertheless, I felt we should go for it. And miraculously, once we committed to it, the SPRING 2019 was overflowing with Shaolin articles in just two weeks. That never happens. Never. I’m usually searching for that last article, that last piece of the puzzle, right up until deadline. Suddenly, I was back – back in that Shaolin Zone.

Additionally, I discovered my Shaolin Master Shi Decheng was coming to our area. You’d think I would’ve known earlier, but no, I was one of the last to find out. My Shaolin elder brother, Master Ye Xinglie, was hosting him again at his school, Shaolin Kungfu Zen, in San Jose. Decheng was going to transfer Da Luohan Quan, one of the mainstays of Shaolin Kung Fu, which is why I'm titling this Shaolin Ways Episode "The Big Worthy One." Like I said, that’s a literal translation of Da Luohan Quan. It’s also the title of my article in our Shaolin Special 2019 based on Decheng's teachings.

I've tackled the topic of Luohan Fist before. I wrote a series of articles on Xiao Luohan as demonstrated by Shi Guolin. That series illustrated all the movements of the form and bridged four issues: July+August 2001, September+October 2001, November+December 2001, and January+February 2002. That was about four years prior to YouTube. Back then, if we wanted to learn a form without a teacher, we had to follow step-by-step still photo illustrations or invest in a videotape, which were exorbitantly pricey in comparison to today. If you want to learn more about Luohan Fist, read those articles because they expound upon the techniques. This is more about that martial metaphor.

Ye Xinglei is on the far right.

 

The Terrible Rainbow

In my Publisher’s Corner, I mention a "terrible rainbow." Rainbows are omens in every faith, and Buddhism is no exception. Who can deny the heavenly beauty of a rainbow? In several of my previous Shaolin personal accounts, I’ve remarked on how rainbows often appear whenever I enter the Shaolin Zone. Just prior to Shi Decheng’s visit, one of my dear friends, Katie Hoeber, passed away unexpectedly. She was known as "Nurse Rainbow" because she was a nurse who always wore rainbow tie-dyes. We had volunteered for Rock Med together for years. Soon after, my wife and I saw an optical halo, one of those circular rainbows around the sun. It could only be seen with sunglasses on. And just before I was going to see Decheng, I had to drive up the coast to San Francisco. It was bright and foggy, and faint rainbows were appearing all around. Auspicious rainbows were everywhere, but the loss of my friend Nurse Rainbow brought bitter poignancy to this Shaolin Zone.

What’s more, I was injured. Just prior to Decheng’s visit, I was attempting to fix my bathroom sink and hyperextended my left elbow. I’m a publisher, not a plumber. I was wearing a brace in feeble hopes of recovering before I had to face my master again, but there just wasn’t enough time. When Decheng arrived, San Jose was also injured, in a manner of speaking. Not only was it the weekend of the Daylight Savings Time shift (which is always a little surreal), the 2018 California wildfires were raging and Silicon Valley was blanketed with smoke. Everyone was scrambling to find air masks (which were sold out everywhere) just to be outside. I've been through forest fires before, but nothing like this. When Decheng saw it, he commented that it was "becoming like Beijing."

So it was not a good time for Shaolin training. Such is that Shaolin Zone – whenever that door opens, the vows I took nearly a quarter century ago bind me to enter, regardless of my health and fitness. I was physically and mentally spent, and my world was literally on fire. Perhaps that’s the best time to train. But it cost me. I’m still paying for it. Perhaps I always will.

L-R: Xingda, Decheng, Xinglongr.

 

The Worthy One

Nevertheless, it was delightful to see my Shifu again. He always brings such Shaolin spirit and restores my faith. We even had a little Shaolin reunion. My disciple brother Dieter came up from Southern California. He hadn’t seen Decheng in years and he brought his family to introduce our Shifu to his wife and kids for the first time. Dieter and I took our vows together in a private chamber of Shaolin Temple in 1996. My Kung Fu brother Jeff Hung also came out. He and I were both instructors at Lam Kwoon over two decades ago and we trained together at Shaolin under Decheng in 1999. We think we might have even studied Da Luohan Quan under Decheng that year. Ordinarily I took extensive notes on whatever I was learning whenever I was at Shaolin, but ’99 was a big year – my first Shaolin Festival and followed by my first (and only) trip to Wudang…with the RZA no less (but that’s another story). So my notes are all interviews and research bereft of what hand forms I was studying. Jeff couldn’t remember either so I felt a little vindicated. I’m pretty sure it was Da Luohan because I have a strong memory of our mutual delight doing the flying elbow strike, as well as my own hard-way discovery of the application for Luohan Sleeping technique (more on this later). Both are distinctive Da Luohan moves. Another old Shaolin friend, Kevin McAllister was there too, a fellow Decheng student that I hadn’t seen in years. And one of my newest Shaolin brothers, albeit from Bak Sil Lum not Songshan Shaolin, came too for his first taste of the Temple style – Nicholas Hancock. He was the runner-up in last year’s Ku Yu-Cheong Bak Sil Lum Championship, a remarkable achievement considering it was his very first martial arts competition. It was really great to all be training together.

When I got to Master Ye's Shaolin Kungfu Zen school, I was amused to find my photo on the wall from the previous year. That was an unexpected honor. But apart from that, I got off to a bad start. I was rushing around that morning tending to other responsibilities, so I ate a little too late, too close to the lesson, and regretted that early into training. It was tough enough warming up my half-century-old body without indigestion.

What's more, I had dug out one of my old Shaolin Robes. I confess I have a lot of robes – a freaking closet full – dozens of assorted robes I’ve collected over the years. They were so cheap at Shaolin back in the mid-90s that I just couldn't resist. I know, I know, that totally flies in the face of the whole point of monastic robes, but I'm no monk, just a layman disciple, so give me a break. Unfortunately, the elastic waistband on the robe I grabbed was spent. It was a cheap set over 20 years old. Fortunately, I'm old skool and know how to tie my Kung Fu pants with a sash so I don’t drop trou. When I first started at Lam Kwoon in the late 70s, we wore traditional pants without elastic waistbands. I never thought I would ever have to call upon that pants-tying skill again, but such is traditional Kung Fu. Every once in a while, some long obsolete Kung Fu technique can save you from a lot of embarrassment.

The seminar was grueling, spread across a weekend. Decheng still pushes those deep stances and so much leg work. My elbow hurt like hell until the endorphins kicked in. And then, for about an hour, I felt that Shaolin juice flow through me again. It was ecstatic. It's what keeps me coming back to practice again and again. Every once in a while – fewer and farther in between at my age – I feel that power. I feel that qi. And it's awesome. Even Master Ye gave me a nod of approval.

Then I gassed out about a half hour before the session was over with calf and foot cramps. That was it for the rest of the week for me. But it was so worth it.

Shi Decheng and Lam Kwoon: L-R: Jeff Hung, Gary Shockley, Shi Decheng, Gene Ching.

 

That night I took a long Epsom salt bath and got a good night's sleep. It was the weekend of the Daylight Savings Time change, and I was grateful for the extra hour to recuperate. The next day, I was pounding electrolytes all session long to ward off more cramps. That worked, but my right thigh was done at the start. All the deep crouching stances – the pubu, xiebu, dingbu – are on the right leg in Da Luohan. And then at the end of the session there was a tricky sweep and a flying kick sequence that also favored the right leg (Decheng only transferred the first third of the form; the complete Da Luohan is very long). All my stances were high, and for the last half hour of the seminar, I was standing up, knowing that I wouldn't be able to get up from another low crouch. At the end, of course, was photo time. That was bothersome because my legs were done so my stances in the poses are pathetic.

Only about a third of the students survived to the second session which left me nowhere to hide. I wore a different robe, one that had a functioning elastic waistband, so I felt more secure. But during an application demo, Decheng kneed me in the tenders by accident. It wasn't hard enough to drop me, but enough to make me flinch and wince, like an awakening kyosaku* in the Zendo. He apologized after. Xie xie, Shifu?

The following week, I could barely walk. Once the endorphins faded, my elbow was sheer pain when doing simple tasks like lifting my tea mug. It brought back memories of my days spent training at Shaolin. By Thursday, my gait was almost normal, or at least I could hide my limping about well enough. That was just in time because that was the day Decheng visited Kung Fu Tai Chi Headquarters. Jeff took some time off and joined us for the shoot. It was good to have his input because he’s still an active Kung Fu instructor under Grandmaster Lily Lau, so his perspective was very welcome.

We did research and shot photos for two articles, the feature "Are You Worthy of Enlightenment? The Fist of Shaolin Luohan" in Shaolin Special 2019, and another upcoming piece for our SUMMER 2019 issue (be sure to subscribe). Now, I seldom pose as the fall-guy because, being the publisher, it just doesn’t feel right anymore. The exception is for the masters that I actually train under. We did static shots for the most part, so it was predominantly non-injurious, but then there was that Luohan Sleeping, which if extracted literally from the form, is most effective against the left elbow. My left elbow. The elbow I hyperextended trying to be a plumber.

 

The Brocade

Decheng held one more session the following week on qigong – 8-Section Brocade a.k.a. Baduanjin. It’s one of the most popular qigong methods and has been part of my daily regimen for years. I first learned it from Decheng in 1995, which I documented and published later in "The Eight Section Brocade: Qigong From Shaolin Temple” (MAY+JUNE 2001). Since then, I have studied many variations of the form, as well as had a refresher from Decheng in 2004. It is part of my daily practice, and I have a lot of thoughts on it and its martial metaphor, but I’m going to save that for my next Shaolin Ways episode.

Only two of my Shaolin siblings attended. Jeff was still in the game and we were joined by our mutual Lam Kwoon brother (and copy editor for Kung Fu Tai Chi) Gary Shockley. Despite the fire-smoke-filled air, the qigong lesson was refreshing. We just had to stay inside. 

I've never claimed to be a master of the martial arts. I'm no champion fighter or forms man.  I love my practice and am grateful when considered competent at it.  Considering the martial company I keep, grandmasters, champions, some of the top of the field, my perspective of martial skill is skewed. These days my practice is a flailing attempt to maintain remnants of so many lost skills, but more so just to stay healthy.  It's no longer about acquisition, it's about retention and preservation.

Now, as I write this, it’s been nearly half a year since Decheng visited. We crossed Daylight Savings Time again. It was a good run and I took some great lessons under my Shifu that I'll be gnawing on in the upcoming months.  And I hope you find the articles in Kung Fu Tai Chi worthy. They cost me my elbow; it’s still sore. It’s been the worst case of tendinitis ever. Being a swordsman, I’ve grappled with tendinitis – swordsman’s elbow – for decades, but never on my left, never like this. What a drag it is getting old.

Amitoufo.

To read Shaolin Ways Episode 5: The Eight-Section Brocade, click here

* A kyosaku (xiang bang in Chinese) is a rod used to wake up sleepy practitioners during meditation practice. It literally means ‘awakening stick’ and is used in Chan.