One Year

On May 31st, 2009, I ended my old life in San Francisco and started my new life here at the center. This week marks the passage of one year. This will be a particularly lengthy (even by my prolific standards!) dissertation processing my reflections on this time.

It's amazing to me that it's even been that long. Time has taken on a strange, paradoxical quality here. The year feels like it passed in the blink of an eye, yet it seems much more time than one year elapsed. I have reflected much on this dichotomy. Part of its cause is the fact that I'm doing such an insane number of things with my time. I'm fulfilling the responsibilities of a formerly full time job (though I do so in 100 hours a month give or take, including the 2 drives to San Francisco and back). The official training curriculum is 9.5 hours per day of mandatory training (or chores, or Saturday, and Sunday is free). I spend an additional 20 or 30 minutes most days practicing handstands, which I very much enjoy for its own sake, for the physical benefits, and out of aspiration to excel at it one day. I started learning Guitar since I've been here, and practice pretty consistently 30-45 minutes a day. Music is also something I find great enjoyment in and aspire to master in the distant future. I also love reading and intellectual stimulation. I listen to educational progressive news/political podcasts daily, and try to read 20 or 30 minutes a day if I can. I've been much better about that recently than in the past.

That already is a substantial amount of time invested in either working or skill development, before I even begin to address my social needs. I am intensely social; I love people and am extremely open and appreciative of all kinds of connections. The superficial friendships and acquaintances I had before I came here have all filtered themselves out, and I'm left with just a few close friends who are worth making time to chat with regularly. On top of that, a relationship has evolved between me and a girl I've known since we were 13, with whom I've been in love every time we've interacted over the years. We got back in touch for the first time since the beginning of high school last year. When I impulsively visited her in Buffalo last summer, expecting nothing, we reconnected intensely as adults. The timing was bad, however, and we didn't speak for a while after I came home. We started speaking again this year and have grown exceptionally close, contacting each other nearly every night. She will be visiting me here in California in 5 days, and plans to move to San Francisco over the summer, opening up a door to explore the amazing potential of our connection in a substantial, meaningful way.

I have no idea how I manage to fit so many things in my life, but after a year, it feels pretty natural. The fullness of my plate in that respect is what I think contributes to my sense that so much more time passes than actually does.

On the other hand, our training is intensely internally focused. Before here, I lived very much in my head. I read a lot of fiction, played a lot of video games, watched a lot of movies. My mind was always somewhere else. The training we go through forces one to be fully present - deeply aware of one's mind and body. It brings me into myself in a way I've never experienced before. Time loses its meaning in that state, and months melt off the calendar faster than I can comprehend.

Without a doubt, this was the most intense, shitty, and best year of my life. I've written at length about some of the hardships I've experienced here in previous posts. Despite random fluctuations, there has definitely been an upward trend my experience. The physical factors, which initially contributed to most of my misery, are steadily improving. Between the new technique schedule, which is less draining than body conditioning, and gradual physical adaptation, I haven't been plagued by the soul crushing, demoralizing fatigue I felt earlier in the year. I have days with more energy and tired days, but overall, it's been much better.

There are always new challenges to be met, however. The most difficult aspect now I think is the social aspect - the bizarre, unique social dynamic of the center itself, and the limitations on my external socialization imposed by such isolation and demanding training.

I touched on this a couple posts ago, when I wrote of my relationship with Shifu. It is quite difficult to be treated like an ignorant child after living independently for 5 years, being financially independent, completing my 4 year college degree by age 19, and working a professional career for 3 years. I can't seem to do much right here. At first, I'd get yelled at frequently for little absent minded mistakes - leaving a light on, leaving my belongings somewhere, not fully closing a door. As I said, my mind was always somewhere else before I came here, and I cared little for such things. I make those msitakes much less often now, but there are always new things to be criticized for. The vast majority of the things Shifu says to us are critical, judgmental, and humiliating in some way. No matter what you did or didn't do, he finds a way to look at it that belittles you. It's not malicious of course, it's to help us grow.

Still, I have no love for that. My parents did not have that style, and I think there are better ways to help a person grow, but its part of the life here and there's no escaping it. I've learned to accept it, do my best to change my habits, and laugh it off.

Before going on, I'd like to point out that during his visit, Master Gao (Shifu's Taiji teacher from 50 years ago) lectured Shifu at length about how wrong it is for him to treat his disciples as well as he does. It's all a matter of perspective, haha! Traditional Chinese culture is pretty authoritarian, especially so in martial arts society. Shifu related this conversation to us, and said that he would rather treat us like sons and earn respect from the heart than simply demand it with power. For all the shit he gives us, I have much love, respect, and appreciation for that!

As the leader, this attitude on his part sets the tone for the center. Shifu really stepped up his criticism towards the end of last semester. He would randomly launch into these comically absurd tirades about how lazy, ignorant, etc people were for the smallest things. We were taken aback by the sudden introduction of these attacks, and there wasn't much we could do but laugh. We started imitating him and making the same absurd criticisms of each other, for everything.

This compounded our natural tendencies to joke around and tease each other. I've come to realize what a civilizing influence women play on men, by watching the content of our interactions degenerate to the lowest common denominator. We have serious conversations at times, but for the most part, we just tease the hell out of each other and make really crude and vulgar jokes. We are all so different, and we are going through such an intense and difficult experience together. I guess the superficiality of that kind of joking is nice when everything else is so serious, and its a way of interacting without being emotionally open or vulnerable. Not everyone is comfortable with that, especially towards other men.

It's fun for what it is, but at times, I grow tired of that being the majority of my social interaction. I want to develop emotionally and socially in addition to everything else I am getting out of this training. I don't want to emerge from the mountains in 8 years an alienated hermit, incapable of being happy and thriving in society.

Increased interactions with outsiders in the last month (between my normal working trips to SF and now the community Taiji/Shaolin classes sunday mornings) have assured me that won't happen, though. I also realized an unexpected benefit from such a one dimensional social environment. Deprivation of something you love is miserable, but when you get it, you gain an appreciation for it on a much deeper level than before. Being around outside people is amazing to me now. Exchanging warm words with people who are emotionally open, discuss serious and personal topics, openly show respect and admiration for me, and freely give me love is intensely more enjoyable to me after living without it for a year. I hope I never lose this new enhanced sense of appreciation for normal, healthy connection. It was well worth the suffering of deprivation!

Beyond that, the training itself has changed me in ways that make it much easier to connect. When Shifu talks about iron shirt conditioning (conditioning the torso by striking the skin progressively harder so you can be hit and not feel pain or suffer damage), he says there are external approaches and internal approaches. You can directly condition the skin by external striking, or slowly condition it internally by practicing qigong that builds up internal energy. Internal training takes longer, but can be stronger and less risky healthy wise, he says. Both methods accomplish the same end result, though.

I think the same thing applies to one's character. You can develop yourself socially and emotionally by living in society, having experiences, and learning from them (the external method). You can also endure an intense inner journey like the path I am on. This experience increases self awareness and presence, develops patience, will, and endurance, and facilitates extensive reflection on self and life. I don't notice that much on a daily basis, but on the occasion I do interact with outsiders, I realize how much this internal cultivation has enhanced my social and emotional development. I feel much more present, confident, empowered, and able to give and receive love and connection than at any previous time in my life.

I am able to engage and accept a much larger range of experiences. My experience here taught me that sometimes, the most valuable things in life are also the most painful and challenging, and that I am strong enough to endure steep costs to reap great benefits. I feel much more patient with people, and much less inclined to allow little things (or big things, for that matter) to bother me. Also, the meditative aspects of the training make my experience of emotion and energy in myself and others much more intense. I feel people in a way I can't verbalize.

The reflection of self and life mentioned above has been more absorbing, lately. Doing something this hard, entailing this much sacrifice, really forces me to examine my beliefs about what imbues life with meaning.

Shifu mentioned in a lecture recently that in his opinion, 5% of the population are pioneers who do something original that has a revolutionary impact on society. 15% are followers, who wait for the pioneers to act and then jump on the bandwagon. The remaining 80% wallow in apathy. He said the goal of this training is to take us to a level of proficiency in martial arts that puts us in a position to be pioneers, and that is what makes life meaningful.

I don't agree much. How could only 5% of the population have a meaningful life? Defining your meaning by the impact you have on society as a whole is pretty self defeating; it would be impossible for every human on this earth to revolutionize life on this planet. Is there no meaning to be found in love, in relationships, in friendships, in community, in family? Granted, modern society undermines all of those social institutions, so they are not as fulfilling as they could be, but still.

In the moments when I feel closest to the girl I mentioned at the beginning of this post, life without that level of love and connection seems pretty meaningless. The time I've spent with the adults and kids at our community class has also been so immensely enjoyable and fulfilling; those relationships surely make my life more meaningful and enjoyable.

I realized recently that I considered 'meaning' and 'enjoyment' in life to be synonymous, but this is untrue. While anything enjoyable can be meaningful and enriching, many things that are meaningful and enriching are not enjoyable. Not only was this year so challenging, but what did I have to show for it? The skills I'm trying to learn are incredibly deep and complicated, and having only begin all of these journeys within the last year, I suck. At everything. Taiji/shaolin, meditation, hand balancing, music - these skills take years to develop, and the beginning stages are frustratingly difficult. Progress yields to my relentless efforts at a glacial pace.

I know these activities will be much more enjoyable in a few years when I'm better at them, but that doesn't make them any less meaningful now. Having the experience of learning, of forcing myself to overcome my frustration, resistance, and internal barriers to doing this has been the most enriching, developmentally productive, and insightful experience of my life.

With that said, I couldn't consider my life meaningful with only that, without genuine, warm, supportive social connection. And certainly not without love in its many forms. However, the kind of self cultivation and mastery of art and skill I'm pursuing here is also very important, and I couldn't imagine life without that. So much so to the point that I'm willing to make such a huge social sacrifice for so many years to pursue cultivation on a level not possible otherwise.

It's easy to get caught up in the daily grind of training, in the enormity and intensity of life here - losing sight of the big picture of what this all means and why I'm doing such a crazy thing. At the community class this morning, I led a Taijiquan class of about 15 adults for the first time since I started training, without anyone else helping to teach. It felt fantastic, and made me realize how one day in the future, the two greatest sources of meaning for me will be one. Once mastery of art is achieved, the act of passing the knowledge on to others facilitates a unique and enjoyable social connection, and groups of people coming together to learn form community and friendship.

I came here because I wanted life's work that was meaningful, that constantly spurs my personal development, and that contributes something truly valuable to society. I saw in our Taiji students an appreciation and desire for what they were learning, and a genuine enjoyment of the practice. That, combined with the potential for personal transformation that I've experienced as a result of my learning, helps to assure me that if I follow through with all this, that vision will one day be fulfilled.

To what I imagine must be a scant few readers who actually read this entire post, thanks. Your readership and comments mean a lot to me and make me feel less alone here =)