Episode 6: Thunderstorms..

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Asia » China » Beijing » Daxing
August 9th 2011
Published: September 3rd 2011
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 Video Playlist:

1: 1 21 secs
2: 2 65 secs
3: 3 4 secs
4: 4 52 secs
5: 6 98 secs
6: 10 5 secs
7: 11 33 secs
8: 14 71 secs
An August thunderstorm

As we near the end of training for the day, the typhoon that caused minor chaos in Japan and the Philippines finally approaches our abode.

Remembering what you do in the event of a thunderstorm, I headed for high ground climbing the ladder to get on the roof. The wind was whipping up. The tall thin trees were being swept to aside. Bent over, I wondered if they might snap but they were supple and flexible just like the way of the Tao and the ideal martial arts technique. I climbed down from the roof. The rain started up. I stood out in the rain.

A friend of mine once told me she was suspicious of people who are afraid of thunderstorms - what had they done wrong to have so much to fear from above?

Dave got out his shower gel and had a shower. I regretted having a shower earlier.

Kicking the inch of warm water around with my bare feet, I stood in a pair of shorts and a raincoat. Everyone else had gone inside. I don’t really care if they thought I was a bit mad. You never get thunder and lightening as good as this in England. I loved every second of it. Its not mad to enjoy nature’s wrath. What IS mad is to fight & destroy nature.

A jolt went from cloud to cloud right above us and let out an instant high pitch screeching crackle that made me jump.

When the centre of the electric storm moved away from overhead I practised some more staff before eventually retreating inside.

Electric blue bolts, pink, purple and orange flashes. We lit a candle in the room so that we could still see the colours from the comfort of indoors.

Shifu said you shouldn’t do Chi Kung during a thunderstorm. That night filled me with a chi that made up for the lack of natural countryside or parks around.

A July thunderstorm

A storm is brewing.
I practise staff form in our Master’s courtyard
His grandson’s old man eyes follow the staff
8 months old yet studious of my movements.

The sky flashes.
The staff cuts through
The humid evening air as thick as brew.
The sky rumbles.
The heavens open.
I change my clothes and carry on training.


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