Seeing Is Believing

By Sheppard Ferguson 
Shep is a Tai Chi student at Wu Dao

  
I have hung-in at Wu Dao because there is a visually compelling aura to the movements of Shi-Fu Tim Hartman and some of the more advanced students of Wu Dao and because Shi-Fu Tim’s disciplined, patient and frequently light-hearted teaching style has energized me to believe I could connect with Tai Chi and enjoy the process.

The add-on to this is the good story that goes with it: 1500 years of history at the Shaolin Temple in China where Tai Chi was developed. Bits and pieces of this story are strewn through our training and accompanying conversations; they flavor the whole stew of yin and yang, parry and strike, tighten and release, concentrate and relax at Wu Dao. Certainly, for a Eurocentric person like myself, who has never done Yoga, Asian martial arts are foreign; so, a good story has helped validate the weird stuff I’m doing, lubricated the process, helped me understand the peculiar intensity and beauty of Shi-Fu Tim’s coiling movements. And kept me involved, progressing millimeter by millimeter. For me, Wu Dao has become entirely credible, if a slightly lesser version of mythical martial arts on mountain-tops in China.

Then along comes Shifu Shi De Cheng.

In seconds the placidly calm man explodes into movements one barely sees though they  seem to shake the building’s foundation, then instantly he returns to his friendly, affable pose. Anyone watching asks, “What the … was that? How did he do that?” Next door to Burger King, 1500 years of Shaolin become very real, a definitive explanation of  everything I’ve been struggling with in my years at Wu Dao: Shifu Shi De Cheng made the vision into the here and now, the tradition become reality. 

I had thought that being in a workshop or at a talk with Shifu Shi De Cheng would be like witnessing the extraordinary athleticism and artistry of a brilliant forth generation  Eastern European circus acrobat in an unapproachable, ethereal world. But, I was surprised to find that I walk on the same earth with the Shifu. And, inspired to keep walking

Kung Fu Applications: Lessons From An Unusual Arena

By Dave Mandeix

Dave is a fifth level student at Wu Dao

In a previous article, I talked about the application of kung fu techniques in a typical stand up fight. I went in to each match with the intent to try and apply specific techniques to see what kind of results I could get. Recently, I found myself applying kung fu in a situation where I never thought I would: a grappling match. A few Saturdays ago I was staying with a friend of mine (Nathaniel) with whom I shared previous training in Tang Soo Do and Brazilian Jujitsu. It had been a long day – I arrived home, parched and underfed (having eaten nothing more than a protein bar for breakfast) and my friend opined that a little pre-dinner grappling might hit the spot, what with his basement being recently refitted as a martial arts gym and all. Never one to back down from a challenge, I gamely agreed. I chugged some water, threw on my old Judo uniform (a heavy 6 pound double weave cotton monster) and headed for the mats. On my way down the stairs, I began frantically cudgeling my brains for a game winning strategy.

Nate is an experienced BJJ grappler with a number of techniques in his toolbox. We've rolled together before, and in the past we were about even. However, I felt that even in my somewhat disadvantaged state, I now had the advantage of training on him. Make no bones about it – we train hard at Wu Dao, and hard training pays off in the heat of battle. I knew I would have to bring the pressure, hit him hard and fast and not let up.

After a brief warm up, we squared off and began to go at it. The first thing that struck me as we struggled for position was that I was aware of his body in a different way than I had ever been before, even with my familiarity with grappling. I found myself going beyond the rote positions I had learned in my youth, and found myself thinking of his movements in the same concepts we see in kung fu – like being opened or closed, full or empty, tense or relaxed. My awareness of Nate's body and posture made me more mindful of my own (yes, even on the ground posture is important). For the first time there were new elements at my command to use for solving the physical Rubik’s cube that is applying a submission. I feel my kung fu training has added to my understanding of the body and its mechanics, and my own body in particular.

The second thing that struck me was that kung fu has really taught me to stick my techniques. When I found myself in a position to sink a choke or arm bar, I would mentally and physically execute the move in the same way I would a punch or a kick – aiming for correct body posture, utilizing my whole body in the technique rather than (for example) just hauling like hell on an arm or a leg with my limbs. I felt myself commit the whole of my being to each submission. It was a novel, and surprisingly natural, application of what we train.

Another advantage of my training was that it taught me to fight while I was tired. I could not match my opponent in a prolonged test of strength, nor rely on bullying my way into techniques. My plan, then, was to launch a rapid series of light attacks and pick the one that got through Nate's defenses to apply my strength to. When I did get a window to apply a choke or an arm bar though, I found that I was often still tired, and here is where our training really paid off; kung fu has helped me cultivate the ability to dig deep, even when I think nothing is left, simply because I have to.

The final aspect of my training that I feel impacted my fighting that night was my attitude. Even though I was tired and at a serious disadvantage, I kept my focus and didn't allow myself to give up. I knew what I needed to do strategically to win, and I did just that. It may seem simple, but think about the number of times you have known what needed to be done, but for whatever reason, that thing does not get done. Kung fu has sharpened my ability to do what is necessary, especially when it is not the easiest thing to do.

At the end of the night- after about an hour of grappling, I had three victories under my belt (two arm bars and a choke) and no losses. It was an exhausting ordeal, but I am glad I did it. There is no better feeling in the world than understanding that what you have put your time and energy (and blood, and sweat, and tears...) into has paid off.

Train, Drink, Eat. (Repeat)

By Liesbeth Van Den Berg

Liesbeth is a third level student at Wu Dao

Our taxi driver whisks us from the grey and depressing train station of Zhengzhou to the dusty outskirts of Dengfeng. We pass by a good number of temples, and admire the Songshan Mountains, before turning left into a gated driveway, onto the sprawling grounds of Xiao Long Wushu School. Boys of all sizes (and the odd girl) litter the square, all wearing the red and black school uniforms. The only adults in sight are the occasional tourists who stay in the hotel by the same name, the same hotel that Shifu Shi de Cheng calls headquarters for his own semi-independent shaolin kung fu school.

Xiao Long Wushu School has about 4000 students, ranging from about 5 to maybe 14 years old. The boys all live here. During training, the kids are subjected to military-style discipline. Can't quite do that split? No problem, the instructor will push you down into one until you start crying (Not all of them, of course, but we happened to train next to a particularly mean and grumpy instructor. It was hard to watch). In contrast, in between training hours, the kids just roam around the premises completely unsupervised. They pee everywhere, also in buildings, litter the grounds, crowd and elbow their way into the dining hall and totally trash it, tossing food they do not like on the floor. When one of the younger ones is crying, there is no adult around to check on him, he just has to tough it out. Only the physical aspects of kung fu are taught, it appears. On checking the school's website, I read the children are taught Buddhology as part of their academic curriculum, but applying this to everyday life is too big a leap for the kids (and staff!).

Shifu travels a lot, but during the summer months he teaches, mostly (if not solely) his European and American students. Some are from schools he visits every year, some are his disciples, and others flock here because of Shifu’s reputation as an excellent martial artist and teacher.

We receive a warm welcome in Shifu’s personal quarters, where he pours us tea, and brings us up-to-date on training-related issues. Classes are two hours each, twice a day, from 8:30 to 10:30 AM, then again from 4 to 6 PM. The training is rigorous and fast-paced, but we manage to keep up, mostly. Classes are held outside on the square in front of the hotel. It's been around 90 and humid, so we are usually drenched within 5 minutes. We start with stationary warm-up, go for a run, do some more warm-ups, stretch. Then it's ALL ji ben gong, all 20 drills (there are 18 official ones, but Shifu added two of his own) for the last half hour. I am an orange belt at Wu Dao, and my 8-year-old son is also a student there. We are only familiar with a couple of the “easier” drills. Then there is my husband, who has never practiced kung fu at all! The inevitable fumbling and panting aside, we learn incredibly fast. Shifu’s instructors Kai Li and Wei Chong are very patient with us.

The second hour is reserved for open training. Most students practice their forms, but we do ji ben gong only, for obvious reasons. We decide to try and tackle one to three ji ben gong drills every day, depending on the degree of complexity, doing them over and over again. At first we have trouble just to remember so many new moves, but after about three days, the choreography becomes familiar, and we start to work on implementing each drill correctly. We feel pretty good about ourselves after day one, not being too sore or out of breath. Another day later, however, sore muscles have us vegetating in our hotel room all day, alternating between taking naps and watching the Olympics on tv. The many sightseeing trips we had planned on taking in between morning and afternoon classes never happen: our minds and bodies beg for rest and relaxation, and apart from that, all we can think and talk about is our next training session. In speaking with our fellow students, we hear they all spend their days the same way. When the soreness finally subsides after about three days, torn ligaments in our thighs start rearing their ugly heads. Flying kicks and sweeps, anyone?

Shifu usually teaches the t’ai chi students the first hour, then comes around to instruct everyone during open training. Most of our fellow students practice their staff, sword, double-sword, and fan forms. A good number of people return here regularly, sometimes staying for six months or longer. It’s a fun group of people, very motivated and inspiring. Of course it’s easy to find things to talk about, as we are all here because we love kung fu!

Three days into our training, Shifu decides to take us on a trip to the Shaolin Monastery, where he lived for many years. A fellow student describes the monastery as “Chinese Disneyland” because of the large amounts of tourists it attracts. It also has gift shops, and a theater where Shaolin “shows” are being performed, a mix of martial arts and acrobatics. When we arrive at the monastery at 5 in the morning, we are lucky enough to see only monks on their morning run. I had heard and read many negative recommendations about the monastery (too busy, many new-ish buildings), but I have to say: standing in the deserted courtyard at sunrise, in the company of Shifu, listening to the drums and chanting of the morning prayers, I feel very much at peace, and grateful for this experience.

Afterwards we hike through the forest, up the many steep steps to the top of one of the beautifully green mountains, where Bodhidharma meditated for nine years in a remote cave. Shifu tells us he used to have to run up these steps (about a 45-minute climb) every morning as part of his training! It’s a rare blue-sky day, and the only thought that manages to get through the songs of the cicadas, is that there is no place I would rather be.

Kung Fu Reflections

By Scott Cranton
Scott is a fourth level student at Wu Dao

I've been at Wu Dao for a little more than three years mostly doing Shaolin Kung Fu. I previously studied Praying Mantis / Wah Lum for 5 years, and Shotokan Karate for 2-3 years. When I was young, I also did some Kempo Karate and Judo. I stopped doing martial arts for a long gap (15+ years), but when I signed my three kids up for classes at Wu Dao, it only took watching a few of their classes for me to realize I needed to sign myself up too...

I fell in love with Kung Fu as a kid watching Bruce Lee and other Kung Fu movies on TV. I loved the animal forms, and the power and grace of the movements; I wanted to do that. My parents signed me up for the nearby martial arts schools - Kempo Karate and Judo - and I got more serious in my late teenage years, and early twenties. I enjoyed the other styles I tried, always finding challenges and no shortage of hard work, but, until I found Kung Fu, it always felt like just exercise; punching and kicking and such. Kung Fu felt like the martial arts I knew from the movies with its grace and power.

Classes at Wu Dao are great as they combine physical and mental challenges in a welcoming environment that is accepting of all physical abilities while challenging each individual to push themselves for more. Every class has just enough structure to help you shake off a stressful work day with challenging strength and flexibility training. Most classes have flex time, with instructors available, to let you dig into what's going to help you get to the next level, be that a new technique, form, weapon, sparring, etc. It's also fun to train with so many others who share my same interest and passion. After finishing a grueling couple hours of class, it's not unusual for a peer to say "wow, that was a tough class; how about we run through that a couple more time or wrap the day with 300 sit-ups.” It’s fun to work with others who are equally "crazy" about Kung Fu.

At most other martial arts schools I've gone too, I've seen a focus on quantity over quality. I've learned dozens of forms and weapons, and gotten belt promotions because I put my time in. It was fun for a while to learn all these different things, but eventually I realized I didn't know how to use the forms and weapons I learned in real life situations; I could only go through the motions. What's the point of learning a fighting art if you can’t actually fight with it? At Wu Dao, the focus is on quality where we go deep into fewer things to help students really understand, and apply, a technique. That helps me understand how to get my body to move the way I want it too.

Even though I want a martial arts style to teach me how to fight, I hope to never have to really use it. I've only been in one real street fight in my life, and hope to never have another. That said, I do enjoy sparring with my peers, and if I'm going to spend many, many hours working on a technique or form, I want to actually be able to use it while sparring. For me it's about doing something that helps push me to do things I never thought I could do, and through that to learn more about myself. I gain health, a deeper connection with myself, and a sense of well being. This has many practical benefits such as being able to do more physical activities with my kids, and helping in my sales job by my having more confidence when I’m engaging with others. The training has also helped me correct a number of issues I've had with a trick knee, and some other strength issues, and it has improved my overall quality of life. Plus, there is nothing better than, after a hard day at work struggling to remain professional with customers and peers, having the stress release of a hard work out (i.e. hitting things).

The most memorable part of Wu Dao has been the rare opportunities to work with Shifu Shi De Cheng, a real Shaolin Monk! He's the nicest, most talented, and deadliest person I've ever met. Always smiling, he patiently trains us in Kung Fu that feels like it's been taught for a thousand years at the Shaolin Temple. When he shows us the applications of the techniques, you know you're learning a real fighting art. But when Shifu demonstrates a technique on me, I realize that this smiling little monk can completely and effortlessly wipe the floor with me despite the 6 inches and 60 pounds I have over him.

Wu Dao continues to be a great school for my kids and myself. I really enjoy the hard, practical workouts, learning skills that could help me fight, and more importantly help me understand myself better. You can't ask for more than great teachers, a great facility, and great people.

Internal Arts Workshops with Master Huang (Part 2)

By Walther Chen

Walther is an advanced student and an assistant instructor at Wu Dao

In June, Wu Dao was fortunate to have Master Wei-Lun Wang visit for a series of weekend seminars. He is accomplished in all the internal styles (tai chi, xing yi, and bagua zhang), as well as the art of Liuhebafa which brings all the internal styles into one elegant practice. 

In the first part of the story, I recounted how Master Huang was teaching the Yang 108 form. This time, I will continue with the second part of the weekend’s workshop. In this part, we were treated to an overview of qigong and all three internal arts. Master Huang began with some basic Qigong, including sections of Golden Lotus Qigong. It was quite difficult for most, as it required the strength and structure to be able to hold positions for many minutes at a time. We were once again treated to some excellent imagery, as Master Huang encouraged us to imagine putting our thumbs up our nostrils during one exercise.

Master Huang introduced Tai Chi as “like water.” While its force can come out like a whip, the essential character of Tai Chi is of flowing through, penetrating through the opponent’s defenses through whatever weaknesses are detected. To illustrate his point, students paired up to practice a drill: the boat in water. One partner crossed arms over the chest (forming a “boat”), and then the other partner would try to tip the boat over. To do so in a tai chi manner was to be extremely sensitive to the weaknesses in the boat’s balance. When Master Huang demonstrated, he followed so well it was as if he didn’t use force at all. After the drill was over, he asked “What does the boat need to do in order to fight back?” Of course, the answer was to become water.

In the Xingyi and Bagua sections, we were introduced to one basic movement for each style. Through his explanations, we were able to grasp the essential feel of each style. Xingyi strikes like lightning. In Xingyi, all attacks move straight forward in a straight line, and attacks are generated from the centerline of the body. The idea is to crush through the opponent, whether there is a weakness at the point of contact or not. Bagua twists and turns around the opponent like a tornado. Much of the footwork is a circular step first to evade, and then a linear step to close on the opponent and deliver an attack.

It was interesting that in the two hours of xingyi and bagua, we learned very few movements, but practiced each movement multiple times to get the feel of the style. The focus was clearly on depth and not breadth. And even while teaching choreography, Master Huang didn’t miss a chance to remind us about the very basic connections and structure that must be felt within the body.

".. Knowing is not enough; we must apply."

By David Mandeix 
Dave is a Level 5(Blue) student at Wu Dao

If you know me, then you know I enjoy a good scrap. Mind you, it was not always this way- when I slunk through the doors of the Wu Guan 4 years ago I had loads of other martial arts experience under my belt (haha), but I was terrified of fighting. This is because I was bad at fighting. Despite years of training, my sparring did not resemble any of the traditional styles I had studied so much as it did a very timid, frantic form of kickboxing.

Last Friday, I was allowed to spar with the MMA group at another training facility, and I was very eager to try out some traditional Shaolin and Choy Lay Fut to see how it stacked up against a more modern (and arguably more popular at the moment) martial arts system.

While I like the mobility imparted by the MMA stance, I found myself returning to Leaning Stance (Gong Bu) for its solid base. I do not think people expect their opponent to fight forward like you do in Leaning Stance, and it imparts a decided advantage by really committing you to the fight. Let me just say, though, that if you are going to use Leaning Stance, it has to be SPOT ON. It’s a fantastically stable stance, but the knee has to be over the shoelace (where have we heard that before?) otherwise your front foot will get swept and you will get dumped on the mat. A couple of false starts in Leaning Stance helped me recognize flaws in my technique I thought I had previously polished out. You don’t make those mistakes twice.

Awesome news—I found opportunities to apply most of the Shi-Bah-Shi Ji Ben Gong in some form or another while I was fighting with a number of people. Moreover, the endless repetition of these moves we endure at Wu Dao meant that they were just as fast to execute as the oft-drilled 1-2-3-4 boxing combo.

One of the big winners that night was the hooking foot sweep that we see in a lot of the 18 basic exercises. Frequently, I could just stop or counter an attack using that. The Gong Bu Shei Xing clearing hand motion followed by a punch also seemed to catch a lot of people off guard, and was great for clearing out an opponent’s guard and following right up with a strike.

Another big winner was Shaolin’s side kick, which when chambered properly can be thrown from quite close in, and with loads of power from the coiled leg. This one seemed to surprise folks a lot, and it got a lot of use when I had to fight tall people who wanted to punch my face.

A really nice surprise was Pi Tui. A lot of times people don’t expect the rear arm uppercut, and if you can land that then the descending backfist afterwards is almost a sure thing. At this point most people aren't really paying attention to what your feet are doing, and so the outside crescent kick is almost always a big surprise. Bonus- when it got caught, my weight was coming down on the kick, and I was able to use it to help secure a grapple to counter an attempted throw. The emphasis we place on retracting a kick clearly has a very real and important application.

I don’t want to give the impression that I dished out Enter the Dragon Shaolin Master Style punishment here, though. I’ve still got a long way to go. I’m just happy that a lot of practice hours paid off for me in a very real way, and as a result I find that the emphasis of my training has shifted as well. Really, how often are we focusing on something seemingly insignificant (opening the foot, retracting the kick, etc.) and asking ourselves- “am I really going to use this?” or “will that really matter in a fight”? As it turns out: yes, and yes.

Keep training guys. It will pay off.

Internal Arts Workshops with Master Huang (Part 1)

By Walther Chen
Walther is an advanced student and an assistant instructor at Wu Dao

In June, Wu Dao was fortunate to have Master Wei-Lun Wang visit for a series of weekend seminars. He is accomplished in all the internal styles (Tai Ji Quan, Xing Yi, and Bagua Zhang), as well as the art of Liu He Ba Fa which brings all the internal styles into one elegant practice.

The weekend was divided into two parts. In the first, attendees had the opportunity to learn in-depth the choreography of the first two sections of the Yang 108 form. Master Huang had great emphasis on finding connection within the body and understanding the structure, intent, and feel of each movement. Some interesting connections he mentioned were elbows-kidney and palms-feet. Connecting the elbows and kidneys together helps to engage the elbow, allowing it to hang correctly. And connecting the palms to the feet can help to feel a connection and line of energy running all the way through the body. Not all of the theory was quite as esoteric. Master Huang reminded us that many Tai Ji Quan movements (like Wave Hands Like Clouds) are powered from inside to outside, and that the action of one hand may power the following action of other hand like in the movement “Turn and Chop.”

Master Huang was very expressive and very interested in trying to transmit the depth of Tai Ji. If you are interested in learning more about the deep connections of the body, and how those connections can improve your Tai Ji or Kung Fu, please join us next year when Master Huang returns for another set of workshops. (More on the second part of the workshop in next month’s newsletter).