A New Challenge (7)

Reading time: 8 minutes

Image mobile phone: qimono – Edit: Erik Stout

The month offline was an extraordinary experience, because the absence of internet as a source of information, communication and distraction was duly missed for the first few days. Despite the airplane mode, the reaching arm movement to the mobile was still fully present at the beginning and I was almost shaking at the realization that online was temporarily off-limits.

By cutting off the connection with the Netherlands, it becomes very clear that I am currently in China. Despite the fact that we only encounter Chinese people here, the internet still gives a kind of ‘home’ feeling with the idea that I am only on vacation here – while this experience is more like the old-fashioned draft. It’s interesting to notice that while being young I was very much opposed to military service, but now, apparently, I am ready to undergo somewhat of a similar experience.[1]

Draft, by the way, because the master is very enthusiastic (some would say: fanatical) in his trainings. Very skilled in various martial arts, he likes to get the best out of his students and that means pushing our limits, both physically and mentally. As an eighteen-year-old draftee I would have pretty much been in trouble the whole time, but now I find it awesome to be able to come here and train hard even though I’m by far the oldest student.

By not having contact with the home front, the feeling of walking around in a movie has become much more vivid, because for the first time I’m staying outside of the Netherlands for more than three months. In addition, the two masters are very similar to Buddhist monks: they are incredibly skilled in their martial arts, have exactly the same daily routine and never complain about anything – at least, not as far as I can tell;[2] they are strict but fair to their students, are happy when they see progression but they always do their own training out of sight; before we start our first training at 6:00 in the morning, they have already finished their first.

Training is going beyond expectations. It’s a tough program but fascinating to experience that balance, strength and mobility are observably changing. After the insurmountable stumbling from the beginning, something resembling gracefulness now seems to be emerging, especially when it comes to transferring body weight in combination with pelvic turns from one leg to the other and movements performed on one leg. The constant repetition also means that an increase in the art of sensing is cultivated, so that sensing what I need goes better and better.

One example is that my knees are starting to play up with the practice of the current tai chi form. After examination, it appears that the strength in my upper legs needs to be increased somewhat, but in particular the mobility in my hips needs to be increased in order to be able to perform certain postures safely and without knee damage. That means back to the old-fashioned hip-openers and maybe even there’s the possibility of a split, and that on my age!

Not only physically is there better understanding of what I need, but also mentally. The month offline gives razor-sharp insights into the moments when I look for distractions in the mobile phone, which mostly are those moments when I get stuck in writing. I love writing articles for this website – as long as it flows! If it doesn't flow and I feel to be sitting staring motionless at the screen for too long, the reaching arm towards the mobile is often already a fact before I know it. With the elimination of that possibility, there is finally room to put into practice a wise lesson from Joseph Campbell: keep staring at the blank page until the words come up and don't give in to distracting behaviour. If we go through the frustration, the words will eventually bubble up as sunshine appears after the rain clouds move away. After trying this trick for almost a month, I can say with confidence that it works wonderfully indeed. Not always comfortable, but effective and ultimately incredibly satisfying.

The bottom line is that for me, paradoxically, restrictions are liberating. The desire to learn tai chi takes shape by learning it specifically in China, so that the focus can be placed on it. The desire to write takes shape by using almost all the time outside of training to reflect, read and write.[3] Absence of distractions or the feeling that a continuous appeal is being made on me bring peace, relaxation and space to recognize old patterns and attachments and lovingly let go where necessary.

In his book Psychoanalysis and Zen Buddhism, Erich Fromm States: “A unique aspect of birth is that the umbilical cord is cut and the child begins his first activity: breathing. Any severing of primary ties from that point on is only possible insofar as this severing is accompanied by authentic activity.” There is awareness that I still have primary ties to break; a spiritual umbilical cord that needs to be cut. In addition, by specifically going to learn tai chi and starting this website as a stage for my stories, I have two authentic activities that can be focused on. As forms of expression, they can take the place of previously old and unserviceable patterns and attachments - the spiritual umbilical cord.

An old attachment manifests itself, for example, in my difficulty with changing living environments. That may sound a bit crazy, coming from China knowing that I left pretty much everything behind and even emigrated before the law, but still such a change remains difficult for me. For example, there is the expectation that no new students would show up until the end of February or the beginning of March. Against that expectation, the number of students has doubled within the last two weeks, so that we are now with six. After four months in my own room, I now share one with a fellow student.

The funny thing is that at first I find it difficult to exchange ‘my’ room and move in with fellow student and martial artist Emile, only to find out that the situation has improved enormously, particularly for writing. Now I can work at a real desk, where I used to work on top of a cabinet with drawers. In addition, the air conditioning unit is almost twice as large as in ‘my’ room, so the room heats up much faster. Moreover, it’s actually a lot of fun to share the room and get to know each other, so again my fear of change was based on nothing.

Incidentally us students now consist of a really interesting assemblage of people, and psychologists would be happy to observe and analyse our current setting as an experiment. There are the two Chinese masters with their (for us) at times inimitable behaviour; then there are two young men in their twenties from Jordan and Turkey respectively, three peeps in their thirties (including a lady) from France, Greece and England, and yours truly almost-not-in-his-forties-anymore from the lowlands of Holland. Everyone has their own story and sometimes that clicks just fine, other times not at all. Some make contact easily, others less. Nevertheless, by far the biggest amount of time we train and live together without problems. I continue to find that fascinating, that in the end our similarities seem to outnumber our differences by miles.

The biggest similarity here, of course, is that we all want to learn martial arts. However, we’re still in a winter wonderland up here; every night there is light to moderate frost and during the day around freezing point with generally a lot of sun. Almost all morning trainings we spend in the frost, but if there is no wind, it is fine to train outside and also training while it snows can take place. It is remarkable, however, that I have not yet suffered from cold or flu symptoms at all, even though we train almost every day outside. With too much wind or precipitation, we train indoors, but cold or snowfall just means training outside. To be honest, as long as we are moving, it is actually quite pleasant to be outside despite the cold. Moreover, now that the sun rises again earlier, we are treated almost every morning to a horizon that colors like the rainbow just before dawn. Such spontaneous presents always bring a big smile to my face.

By the way, we do reverse cold showers here. Instead of taking a cold shower and then drying off in a normal temperature bathroom, here we take a hot shower in a bathroom in which it is practically freezing and icicles hang from the ceiling. Extraordinary experience and I don't know if Wim Hof agrees with this, but it is always interesting to look at a method from the opposite side.

So I enjoy this beautiful environment. Often I take a hike to one of the two mountain peaks and meditate at the waterfall or in the cave of the Taoist Immortals in the mountain behind the temple. New paths are discovered every time and a few weeks ago fellow student Eva and I unexpectedly ended up at the large statue of Lao Tzu. Of course we took a look inside and there it seems like we ended up on another planet. As elegant as the golden statue is on the outside, so raw and immense is the stone and steel skeleton on the inside. In addition, while the sun shines there is a lot of wind that howls like twenty packs of wolves through all the holes and openings in the foundation. Enchanting and somewhat intimidating experience.

Snow, for me, remains a fairy-tale phenomenon in the sense that it provides a certain kind of silence and serenity. In order to be able to continue training outdoors, I exchanged a few trainings for shoveling snow; wonderfully meditative in such an enchanting environment. That's why I took the trouble to film a bit of it and provide it with rustic music: if you feel the need for moving images but have grown tired of the eternal fireplace or aquarium, this winter version may provide a welcome change.

Finally, since the beginning of last year, a seed has been germinating in my mind with regard to creating a place where people can experience a change of perception through various performing arts such as acting, dance, music, drawing/painting or writing (preferably a place where people can also stay overnight). This desire arose from the observation that many of us have difficulty in expressing ourselves. Because of this inability, emotions and frustrations have a tendency to pin themselves in our bodies and minds, causing stress and potentially lead up to physical and/or mental disease. Becoming acquainted with the phenomenon of expression and finding out how it can liberate us from the illusion that we’re ‘trapped’ inside our body, brings equilibrium, peace and health. By introducing different forms of expression in a safe environment, the goal is to increase self-knowledge and self-confidence, so that we can navigate through our turbulent world with more relaxation and fun.

Part of this desire is to investigate into the possibility of planning work visits after my training in China ends (probably around September/October 2024) to organizations or companies that use performing arts to enable people to undergo a transformative experience.

Does the above description ring a bell for you? Then my question, dear reader, is whether you want to put me in contact with the person, organization or company in question. Location does not matter, at the moment I am still able to travel anywhere and I will gladly use that to enlarge my knowledge and experience.

I look forward to comments and thank you so much in advance for thinking along with me,
Jolly greetings,
Erik Stout

[1] Unfortunately my year of birth was one of the last to be drafted in the early nineties. The story about how I escaped conscription by tricking the medical examination is a story for another time.

[2] Unless we let the air conditioning unit blow warm air into our room outside the designated times.

[3] Writing is an important form of expression for me. In the upcoming blog post The Healing Power of Expression 2 I will go into depth about how that came about and what it does and means for me.