Beginning
It was a long way to this bench, which was placed under the trees
in front of the buildings for the visitors of Shaolin Monastery.
Just opposite the monumental entrance area, with a direct view to
the temple door, an impressive view. This is where I wanted to
go, now I was sitting right in front of it, the world famous
martial arts monastery, the center of so many kung fu movies with
flying monks, incredible technique and almost superhuman
performance, free from pain, the Buddhist martial artists thus
within reach.
Now, at the destination of my journey, the courage left me, the
doubts returned, unmistakably my annoying ego announced itself,
criticized my entire decision. Rainer, what are you doing here,
how stupid are you, how did you get this completely stupid idea,
you in the Shaolin temple, martial arts from the monks you want
to learn, they tear me apart in the air, against such fighting
machines you have no chance. So, or so similarly, my ego turned
its capers, searched further for reasons, why I should better
leave again. I pulled my head in further and further.
Around me, an infinite number of tourists, most of them Chinese,
gathered under colored flags, huge groups of travelers, always
following a guide, each blaring into a megaphone,
incomprehensible sounds, unfamiliar smells, I suddenly wanted to
cry, I was suddenly really scared. Probably also of my own
courage. How did I get here, what was I doing there?
But if I am already once there, then I could look at least the
monastery once, before I would drive in any case with pulled in
tail then again home. The laborious journey would not have been
worthwhile otherwise in the remotest, and a few pictures could
make yes also, as said, if I am already once there, the moment of
the disgrace then at least savor, so that I can always remember
the disgrace.
With leaden limbs I got up and dragged myself to the entrance,
where the crowds were, cultural tourists armed with tickets and
umbrellas, the Shaolin Temple was and is an attraction even among
the Chinese themselves, attracting millions of onlookers every
year. I stood in line to purchase a ticket. As I stood there so
quietly, this immense awe gripped me again, the Shaolin Temple
China, located in the sacred mountain Song Shan, the cradle of
Kung Fu.
This is where I wanted to go, now I was standing at the door, my
pants full, my courage chilled, Rainer, how did you come up with
this idea?
Today I know: This way was my karma!
To travel well is better than to arrive
- Buddha - honorary name of Siddharta Gautama - 560 to 480
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