130-The daily training - Buddhism in daily life

The daily training


The days followed each other, getting up every morning at five
o'clock, first we went to the morning service, the monks
meditated, sang the O mi to Fo, prayed, went into themselves, I
was more a silent observer, absorbed the impressions. At that
time of day it was bitterly cold, the bones and joints ached from
sitting. The meditation cushion was more like an anthill, sitting
still was torture for me.


After that we always went to the temple canteen, a large room
with a huge pot of rice and a smaller pot of vegetables (in
sauce) hanging over the fire, we warmed up together with the
other monks at large tables (similar to beer benches), then we
went to our (now it was our) hermitage, did the morning toilet,
drank woo long tea, started talking, with computers, hands and
feet, but communication worked well between us.


Then the training began, every day with fixed rituals, always
first the "warm-ups", after which I was already hopelessly
served, but giving up was out of the question, I had made it this
far, now I wanted to continue, by no means cross the flag.


Almost all exercises took place in positions just above the
ground, for untrained observers it doesn't look really strenuous,
but those who have held such positions before know how difficult
this can be for a normal Central European.


From such a position, Shi Yan Zi then repeatedly shot upwards as
fast as an arrow, came into an attack position, was in "no time
at all" right in front of my nose, just a moment ago he was still
on the ground, now he was literally floating above the earth, I
was deeply impressed.


More and more my legs burned, especially my thighs, which had to
carry my considerable weight (at that time about 90 kg), holding
the unusual positions, the movements were absolutely unfamiliar
to me, looked (at first glance) also strange, then made sense in
the movement sequence. But it is just a difference whether a
trained fighter practices, or whether an affluent European thinks
to have to give here the temple fighter. Constant repetitions of
only a few, always the same exercises, the muscles burned, the
strength decreased, a seemingly endless drudgery, so I had not
imagined, rather hoped for the "magic pill", actually I no longer
know what I had really hoped for.


But now here I was, pulled through, no matter what the cost.
Constant shifts of body weight (just above the ground) from one
leg to the other, the leg with the weight bent wide, the buttocks
on the ground, the other leg stretched out in a half splits, so I
practiced hour after hour.


Again and again the monk ordered a break, he smiled, surely he
thought his piece about the condition of the Westerners. To get
up again from the position on the ground was incredibly
effortful, I also had the elegance of an elephant, with Yan Zi it
all looked so much easier. But things were looking up, after a
few days I got used to the strain, my legs were burning like
fire, but I didn't even notice it anymore.


I was proud, I was in the Shaolin Temple, I was training here, I
was part of the community, I had made it this far. Eight hours of
training every day, four in the morning, then several hours of
lunch break, then another four hours of training, that's how the
days passed.


There didn't seem to be any other exercises, although I saw the
monks in the courtyard practicing all kinds of movements, my
master barking his orders to himself, "Yī'èrsānsì" (one, two,
three, four), over and over again, hour after hour, day after
day, the whole thing had something very meditative. Always during
the breaks there was the beloved tea, now sometimes "Mòlìhuā-Chá"
(jasmine tea), also a delicacy.