Martial Biking

By Julius Anastasio

Julius is a Level 3 (Orange) student at Wu Dao

Anyone who has navigated the streets of Boston by bike can recount how harrowing an experience it can be. A few days ago I was biking home from Kung Fu class during rush hour. Zipping by the adjacent gridlocked cars, a passenger-side door opened into the bike lane, catching my handlebars and sending me into the air.

The next thing I knew, I found myself kneeling on the ground, about 10 feet in front of my bike. After being thrown from my bike, I had unconsciously tucked into a dive roll, and had landed unscathed, sunglasses still on, the take-home container of leftovers in my backpack unopened.

I got up immediately and brushed myself off. Being the martial arts nerd I am, I was actually disappointed in how I had reacted (hitting the ground in stride would have looked SO much cooler). The passenger who had opened the door asked if I was alright, glancing over at my bent, sorry-looking bike. “I’m fine,” I said as I tried to bang the handlebars of my bike into some ride-able state. A woman who has witnessed the accident from the sidewalk asked me “Are you alright? That was quite a display of acrobatics.”

I replied with another quick “I’m fine, thanks,” as I got back onto my crooked bike seat just in time to catch the next green light. I rode the rest of the way home contemplating the events that had just occurred, particularly how useless the tune-up I had just gotten the day before was at this point.

Reflecting on the accident made me appreciate how lucky I am to have practiced martial arts for the majority of my life. Living in our current society, the chances that I will have to fight for my life aren’t very great. Accidents and falls, however, are much more likely. My years of martial arts training have conditioned me to internalize many movements, allowing my body to react unconsciously and automatically to protect myself in unexpected dangerous situations such as a bicycle accident.

We don’t always consider the beneficial side-effects of our Kung Fu training. We have a tendency to focus on the height of our sidekicks, the deepness of our horse stances, or the fluidity of a form. While Kung Fu does give way to these more concrete accomplishments, it also allows you to internalize those movements and become a part of you. Sometimes it takes real-life situations to make us to understand the true extent of what we are accomplishing in the countless hours we devote to training.

Iron Palm Kung Fu

Retold by Sissi Liu

The following is a folk tale told by Shifu Shi De Cheng during his Summer 2008 trip to Wu Dao. It is stories like these that inspired him to train in Kung Fu as a child.

Long long ago, there was a young man who was weak and thin. He was constantly being picked on by other young men of his village. One day, after hearing stories about the mystical Kung Fu warrior monk in the mountain, he decided to set out to learn Kung Fu from the monk. With few belongings, he hiked far far away and into the mountain where the monks lived.

Upon arriving at the temple, he discovered the old monk. After several days, he got up the courage to approach the monk, and asked, "Shifu, will you accept me as your disciple?" The monk rejected.

The young man did not give up. Over the course of months, he voluntarily performed chores and begged the monk to accept him. The monk finally did.

The young man was ecstatic. He asked the monk, " Shifu, what will you teach me today? The other young men in the village are constantly hassling me. I need skills to protect myself."

The monk replied, "You see that boulder by the tree? Just gently pat it with the front and back of the hands."

The young man was in utter disbelief. However, he accepted Shifu's instructions and began patting the boulder.

The young man persisted day after day to pat the boulder. A month went by, he became impatient, and reasoned to himself, "I came all this way just to pat a boulder?"

He went to the monk and urged, "Shifu, I have been patting the boulder for a month. When are you going to teach me some real Kung Fu?"

Shifu said, "Be patient. You need to pat the boulder."

The young man went back to his boulder.

A year passed, the young man got up the courage to ask Shifu again, "Shifu, don't you think I'm ready to learn Kung Fu?"

Shifu replied, "You have to go pat the boulder some more."

Another two years went by, the young man decided that it was time to press his case again. He pleaded with the monk, "Shifu, please, teach me some Kung Fu."

Shifu turned to him and said, "It's time for you to leave now. You better go."

Confounded by the response, the young man, despaired. He wrapped up his belongings and descended the mountain.

Upon returning to the village, the villagers came to meet the returning "Kung Fu master." They said, "You have returned! We heard you found a great Kung Fu monk as your master. You must show us some of your skills!"

The young man, feeling total embarrassment, replied, "In all honesty, I did find a master but I didn't learn anything."

The villagers were incredulous. "You were gone for years. How can you say that you didn't learn anything? You are just being modest. You must be hiding your Kung Fu skills."

All the villagers became convinced that the young man had acquired Kung Fu secrets. The news spread. More and more people came from near and far to meet this young Kung Fu master whose skills were inconceivably powerful that they certainly could not be demonstrated.

Being hassled by such constant inquiries, the young man became truly frustrated with his utter lack of skills and others' impression of him. One day, he returned home, pursued by a mob of villagers and visitors. He sat down at the dining room table, surrounded by the crowd of people, pressing him to show them his skills. No longer able to contain his frustration, he stood up and exclaimed, "I really didn't learn anything!" and slammed his palms down on the thick solid wood table. There was a loud "crash" as the table broke in half and fell to the floor.

Everyone was silent. The young man had in fact conditioned his palms into iron weapons.