客服热线:400-065-0970 | APP下载
| 微信公众号1
搜索

拍拉新闻 《自愈之旅》中英文连载 2

时间:2015.06.14 01:06 221 0 0

《自愈之旅》中英文连载 2

 

 

第一部  医行天下 

    和尚认定我与中医有缘,吾命即通医达道,就建议我沿着自己前世修道的地方去云游,最好沿途住庙,大概的路线是武当山、长阳中武当、鄂西、湘西、南岳衡山、北京白云观,他说我自然会在途中遇良缘。有人说,这种话岂不是天方夜谈,能当真吗?可是我岂只当真?我二话没说,抛下一切“重要的事”,背着行囊就上路了!

 

    第1章 学医奇缘

 

    我学医看似偶然,实为必然,因为有种命里注定的东西,不可说。可说部分,在此道来。释新德(乐后圣)对人的天命有一段精彩的论述,他说,神采的鸡不能同麻雀比飞,不能同鸭比游水,虽然它们都有翅膀,但它们的习性不一样,决定了它们生活方式的绝对不同。

    弄清楚自己,安身守命就是“知天命”。同命运抗争的结果就是自寻烦恼,天命决定任你抗争皆为徒劳,惟有识命而为。这里我们暂且不说天命注定正确与否,但人活着,做自己不喜欢的事,和自己不喜欢的人住在一起,当然烦恼,烦恼日久就会生病。子曰“四十而不惑,五十而知天命”,吾虽四十还在惑,然不到五十便知天命。估计孔圣人也会捻着胡子说:嘿嘿!孺子可教也!

 

    40岁踏入中医江湖

    40岁那年退休之后,我开始读书、写作、漫游。不知为什么,我一直向往一种古人的云游生活,就是像云一样,风把你吹到哪儿,你就飘到哪儿,随遇而安。所谓闲云野鹤是也!可惜如今古风不盛!云游的传统没了,只有旅游,衣食住行安排好了才敢游!江湖也变了,水被污染,连风气也变了,比如寺庙居然收门票!这可是千古未有!环顾四周,人人都在忙,经商和当官的尤甚,就像上了一种刹不住的“过山车”。忙人也有美好理想,有的希望在40岁退休,然后干自己喜欢的事,比如像陶渊明一样“采菊东篱下”,或周游世界,或办慈善事业等等。但这些理想有很多前提条件,比如赚足够的钱,有足够的时间等等。后来大家发现,有的忙人居然退休了,但一问原因则多为三个:一是住院;二是坐牢;三是死亡。我很庆幸,退休居然不是因为这三样。当然,退休并非仅仅意味着休息,而是更能如儿童一样随兴趣游戏了。云游就是一种游戏!身可游,心可游,亦可身心皆游。

    人问:家乡何在?答曰:此心安处,即是吾家!

    人问:你的职业是什么?答曰:不务正业!

 

    在一般人心目中,不挣钱的行业都算不务正业。我退休后做的第一件不务正业的事,是跟友人胡野碧合作写了一部小说《股色股香》。两人写书有个好处,就是在人们问起书中主人公令人眼花缭乱的男欢女爱时,我们都可以说:那是他干的!野碧说这本小说是对自己“上半生”的总结,结果朋友们嘲笑说我们写的是“下半身”的故事。我只好笑曰,那是在用形而下之器,讲形而上之道!方便法门而已!话音未落,新的游戏就出现了。人生的一切其实都在那根若隐若现的因果链条上。正是这不务正业产生的《股色股香》,引领我走上了一条更加“不务正业”之游戏,那就是很多人嚷嚷着要取消的中医江湖。人的一生皆在演戏。端看谁演得好!

    写完小说后,我越来越象一朵闲云,只等风起而动。直觉告诉我,我的第二部小说肯定与中医相关。所以我的行为在一步步靠近中医,不懂医如何写医?我知道在中国搞中医很难,其难度一般人很难想象。但正因如此艰难中医才有戏,戏精彩是因为情节曲折。民间的中医高人,不少在“非法行医”;而中医庸人,大多在合法行医,能不精彩乎?于是有门路的高人们便一个个出国了。在我和李安导演及朋友们策划2008年北京奥运会开闭幕式期间,两个出国远游的中医高人都回国与我相聚。于是我们海阔天空地神侃,我的中医云游就从与中医的神侃出发。理需讲,但道只能行。神侃的结果,就是开始云游“中医江湖”。然而我云游的第一站不在国内,而是澳洲。

 

    澳洲:云游的第一站

    友人郭碧松在英国开中医门诊十几年,近几年经常被邀请去澳洲治疗和讲学。我们无论在哪里见面,话题永远离不开中医。她见我闲人一个,只想云游,就问我有没有兴趣考察海外中医,顺便云游澳洲。当然,她知道我对中医心仪已久。我与碧松有长达20多年的友谊。20世纪80年代初我还在上大学时,碧松就和我有了“项目合作”:她教我气功,我教她英文。后来我去美国留学和工作,她去英国行医和教学。我们一直保持紧密联系,每次我去英国,都必去她的诊所。她去澳洲讲中医和气功,我也正想重温气功,于是我们一拍即合,就随她一起去了澳洲。

    我们先后去了悉尼、墨尔本、帕斯、黄金海岸等地。每去一地都由当地开中医诊所的老外接待,于是我有机会见到各式各样的中医诊所和外国中医。他们多数毕业于澳洲的中医学院、学校,其中许多人既习医又练气功,既用针也用药,有的还专门到中国学过易经和风水,每个当地中医都有自己稳定的客户群。中医虽然还不是当地的主流医学,但显然已经有了相当的群众基础。无疑,中医在这里的趋势是越来越火。当地人崇尚自然,这正是他们与中医契合的原因。还有比中医更自然的医吗?我云游澳洲的最后一站是黄金海岸,没想到这里成了令我印象最深的地方,不仅因为其漫长而优美的海岸线,更因为那里有个将中医与大海结合得近乎神奇的老外,当然,他也是个中医。

 

    澳洲冲浪道人:洋中医沃利

    第一次见到了沃利,是在黄金海岸的机场。他是个满面微笑的英俊白人,大约50多岁,帅得如同电影明星。除了那双目光炯炯的眼睛,他最引人注目的是披在肩上的白发和穿在脚上的圆口布鞋。这样的组合,令人联想起武侠电影中的侠客与山中修炼的道人。 

 

《自愈之旅》中英文连载 <wbr>2

 

   “你真像个中国的道人。”我笑着对他说。“我的学生也这么说我。”他说。原来除了行医,他还教太极拳和八卦掌。因为知道墨尔本的中医师沃维克从练太极拳开始而过渡到针灸师和风水先生的先例,我对老外习武又习医已不感奇怪。但我没想到他还能教太极拳和八卦掌,说明他的水平不一般。不过沃维克毕竟来过几次中国,沃利压根儿就没来过一次中国,这种人怎么能学好中国的绝技呢?我问他太极和八卦跟谁学的,他说是跟一位英国高手,而且整整跟他学了15年。用中国话来说,他是那位英国师父的嫡传弟子。那英国人又是跟谁学的呢?我追问。他说是在中国跟太极拳的正宗传人学的,我这才松了口气:总算根正。

    当晚他正好有教太极拳的课,我表示想跟他前往观摩,他欣然同意。当晚来的各种肤色的人大约有七八个,大多是年轻人,个个学得认真仔细,毫不含糊。除了大学上体育课学过一点太极拳,这是我第二次接触太极拳,后来我回到北京后学了一阵太极拳,就是受这次澳洲太极拳教学的刺激。一年多以后,30多个来自世界各国的中医师跟着我去湘西大山里观摩民间中医时,沃利也在其中,这是后话。

    从行中医的正业到教太极拳的副业,都是中国人引以为傲的传统绝活,可此公居然还从未到过中国,这是否就是人们常说的神交?或曰对“海内存知己,天涯若比邻”的精彩诠释?我问他去过哪些国家?他说年轻的时候去过邻国新西兰和印尼,都是为了冲浪,因为他那时是个冲浪高手,澳洲冲浪的海滩都被他冲遍了,他的一个冲浪伙伴还成了世界冠军。我暗想,他冲浪的样子才像个澳洲人。他说直到最近几年才去过较远的国家,比如意大利、日本和南非。我说到那些地方肯定不是为了冲浪吧?他说都是被人请去讲授和表演太极拳。原来他出远门都是为了弘扬中国的传统功夫。他已年逾50,我就问他现在是否还在冲浪。

   “当然!”他毫不犹豫地回答。我对他立刻充满了景仰,并笑着问:“你能教我冲浪吗?”“当然!你肯定也会喜欢的。”他的回答依旧简单明了。我立刻心驰神往!因为我早就对冲浪充满好奇,心想能在海上巨澜波涛中潇洒游走实在是件神奇的事。

    沃利的家坐落在一个森林密布的山腰上,是个三层的楼房。我很喜欢长久地坐在那个巨大的走廊阳台上,一边读书,一边远观起伏的山峦,近看飞来觅食的鸟儿。阳台上放着喂鸟的食盆,所以这儿的野鸟都跟家养的一样,习惯于上阳台上觅食。偶尔还能看到附近的林子里有成群的袋鼠活动。气功培训结束之后,沃利专门腾出两天时间陪我们玩。我们在原始森林中漫步,在瀑布垂落的清潭中游水嬉戏,并在交谈中渐渐了解彼此的生命轨迹。

    沃利的一生基本上在昆士兰州度过,他13岁就开始自谋生路,生活艰辛,但自由、快乐。在成为中医针灸师之前,他干过拾垃圾、挤奶、电工、矿工、搬运工、油漆工等十几种工作,他是我见到的干过工种最多的人。“生活使你不得不成为多面手,”他笑着说。本来他已经被一个师范学院录取,上学的前一天,他跟一个朋友去看了一个越南华侨的中医治疗,又听他讲了老子的《道德经》,顿时认为这就是他人生的追求,当即改变主意,弃师范而学中医。学中医的过程中他接触到阴阳五行和武术,于是对中国传统的东西越学越来劲,从硬武功学到太极拳,又从太极拳学到八卦掌。谈到各自青年时代的流浪,我们居然发现了共同喜欢的作家:赫尔曼·黑塞和纪德,两个在文明河流的东西方之间摆渡的人。他很激动,为发现了一个东方的知音,便跑上楼抱出纪德的全部作品让我一一过目。我告诉他,中国的户籍制度现在宽松一些了,所以我才有机会重新审视、比较东方和西方,让思想和身体浪迹天涯,现在才能和他坐在一起。夜幕降临后,我还发现他是个水准不错的吉他手。他自弹自唱,像个披头士时代充满理想和骚动的青年。

    第三天一大早,我就穿好游泳裤,激动地跟着沃利扑向了卡拉宾海滩。这是黄金海岸最好的冲浪地之一,驱车十分钟即抵达。当冲浪板被放到地上时,我才发现上面印的是阴阳太极图。我调侃说,“原来你连冲浪时都忘不了阴阳之道,真像个海上道士!”他笑着说,“中国的八仙过海,不就是得道高人在海上各显神通吗?澳洲道士过海的神通肯定是冲浪吧!”就这样,在沃利的教练下,我开始了生平的首次冲浪。初学的冲浪者都站不起来,但趴在上面被巨浪冲向海滩也极为惬意,那是一种不断在身体与海浪中寻求平衡的运动,既令人野性勃发,征服欲雄起,又让人不得不潜心寻求平衡。此平衡之理与中医的阴阳之道完全一致。在巨浪中才冲了几个来回,我就知道自己上了瘾,如同我初次在美国科罗拉多滑雪就立刻上瘾那样。难怪沃利说:冲浪是个令人上瘾的运动,而且一旦上瘾很难戒掉。所以在澳洲,很多老板雇佣人时会先问他是否是冲浪者。如果是,则敬而远之,因为冲浪者成天想的就是冲浪,下班后和上班前可能会先扑向海滩,难以专心工作。

    我不好意思让他老陪我练,就让他也显显身手,我也见见世面。他会心一笑,推着冲浪板向不断掀起的巨浪深处划去。我漫步走向浅滩,回首时已经见不到他的影子,只见许多年轻的男男女女在冲浪嬉戏。我凝神眺望了好一会儿,远处色彩斑斓的冲浪者在蓝色的海与白色的浪花中漂浮、交织,却始终不见沃利的其身影。就在我想放弃搜寻的刹那,只见一个白发飘飘的冲浪者突然以一种溜冰般的速度滑入我的视野。我立刻被当时这副充满动感的画面惊呆了:只见沃利穿着黑色冲浪服稳稳站立于冲浪板上,板在涌动的浪坡上切线飞走,一排比他人高得多的巨浪在他身后如影随形,动荡悠长,仿佛马上要把他覆盖、淹没。蓝天白云之下,滔滔巨澜之间,那个道人的身躯在冲浪板上以动求衡,他的白发凌空飞扬……

 

 

 

 

    中国人心目中的白发道人多为身怀绝技,浪迹于深山丛林的老者,在海上如此逍遥的似乎罕见。尽管我们也有“八仙过海”的故事,可是那些神通都太抽象,不如冲浪这么具体可见。我相信这白发冲浪者就是庄子所讲的许多故事的一个现代版。难道庄子本人和他讲的故事还不够神奇和飘逸吗?两天后,当沃利第二次带我去冲浪时,我居然成功地在冲浪板上站立了一次。他面对激动不已的我笑嘻嘻地说,“这感觉是不是不亚于驾驭一个床上的女人?”吾曰:“善哉!所言极是!”我们的笑声即刻与海涛声形成了一种交响。

    落笔至此,刚好收到沃利的电子邮件。他叙述了自从我离开他家之后的生活,家常般朴实,一如他的一贯风格。他说是大海和中医才使他在这个疯狂的世界里保持了一种平衡。最后他写道:“生活其实不是一个终点站,而是一场循环无端的旅行,就跟太极图显示的一样。”那时我脑子里立刻浮现出一个奇妙的意象:晨风中,一个50多岁的白人、针灸师兼太极拳教练,脚踩印有阴阳太极图的冲浪板,在碧蓝的大海上‘与浪共舞’!冲浪板在他脚下扬起一道道流线型的浪花。

    难道这就是未来的中医?未来的道士、和尚?我把自己也想象成一个黑发的冲浪道人,脚踏巨浪,胡须飘荡,然而旁边嬉戏的冲浪者却多是白发飘逸,还有金发、褐发、黄发……

 

 

 Part I  Journey to Self-Healing

 

        The Monk asserted, “You are destined to learn and practice Chinese medicine, through which you will manifest the Tao.” He advised me to follow my spiritual pursuit in the previous life, and best of all, stay at temples and monasteries along the way. Places on my itinerary were to include Mt. Wudang, Mt. Zhongwudang, western Hubei province, western Hunan province, and Baiyun Taoist Temple (White Clouds Temple) in Beijing. And he assured me that I would have magical encounters on the way.

 

       “How could you possibly take such nonsense seriously?” you may wonder. Well, I not only took it seriously, I actually dropped all “important matters” and started off with my backpack right away.

 

Chapter I  Legendary Encounters

 

       My learning Chinese medicine can seem a chance decision. Somehow, for me, it is the inevitable. Destiny, I guess. Cannot express it exactly in words. The part that I can say is laid out here in this book.

 

        My mentor and friend Shi Xin De (also called Yue Hou Sheng,) is a monk, and he has a brilliant take on a man’s destiny — a lively chicken cannot compare with a sparrow in flying, nor can it swim better than a duck, despite the fact that all of them have wings. Their differences in nature determine their absolutely different ways of life.

 

       Knowing who you are and being true to it is to know your “destiny”. Going against your destiny is to ask for trouble, and it will all be vain effort. One has to know his destiny and act accordingly.

 

     Here, let us not argue about whether believing in “destiny” is sensible or not. Man naturally gets vexed when doing things or living with someone he doesn’t like. In that case, he will get sick with the passage of time.

 

     Confucius once said, “At forty I was no longer confused, and at fifty I knew my destiny”. Although I was still somewhat confused at forty, before fifty I already knew my destiny. Were Confucius to know this, he would smilingly comb his beard and say, “Umm...Good boy!”

  

         Starting to Learn Chinese Medicine at Forty

        At forty, I withdrew from the financial world and began reading, writing and roaming around. Almost unknowing to myself, I have always longed for the wanderer’s lifestyle of ancient people: Just like clouds, floating wherever you are blown and adapting to whatever circumstances you are in. What great freedom! Pity it is a bygone past, and this tradition is lost. Now there is only tourism. Many travel only when everything is pre-arranged.

 

      Time has changed. Now, the world is polluted, and even common practices are abandoned. For instance, now people need to buy tickets to visit temples and monasteries, something never heard of in millennia. As I look around, I see everyone busy-ing themselves, businessmen and government officials in particular. Seems like everyone is riding on a non-stop roller coaster. The busy people also have beautiful dreams. Some hope to do what they like when they retire at forty, say, live a more natural life, travel around the world, or start a charity. But these dreams have many preconditions — they need to earn enough money, have enough time, blah, blah, blah.

 

        Some people have indeed stopped their “busy-ness”. When asked why, the reason can be one of the following: hospitalized, imprisoned or dead. I am very lucky, for I retired not for any of these reasons. But again, retirement is not just about rest. I could explore my own interest and play the life game better, just like a child. Roving is a game. My body and mind could drift in the world.

 

        “Where is your hometown?” people ask me.

 

        “My home is wherever my heart belongs.”

 

          “What do you do?”

 

          “Idle around.” 

 

       In many people’s eyes, getting involved in a non-lucrative industry is no wise decision. The first unwise thing I did after retirement from the financial world was to co-author Sex and Stocks with my friend Hu Yebi. The best thing about co-authoring the novel is this: When our readers ask about the colourful sex life of the protagonist, we could point to each other and say, “He did it.” Hu said it was a summary of his “first half of life”, but our friends joked that we wrote a story of the “lower part of body”.

 

       To that, I laughed and replied, “We were trying to describe manifestations of the metaphysical Tao through a physical tool. Just a convenient way into the Tao.”

 

      Soon, a new game started. The non-decent fiction Sex and Stocks led me to an even wilder game — Chinese medicine that many in China loud-speak of abandoning. Well, everything in a man’s life is a link in the causal chain, visible or not. It’s all a game. Who is a good actor, and who is not?

 

      After finishing the novel, I was more and more like an idle cloud awaiting the wind’s call. I knew intuitively that my second book would be about Chinese medicine. So I gradually approached it, for how would I be able to write about Chinese medicine without actually grasping it?

 

       I know what a daunting task it is to practice Chinese medicine in its place of origin, more challenging than people generally assume. But just because of this difficulty, there is still hope for Chinese medicine. A good play needs to have a dramatic plot, doesn’t it? Many folk masters, not granted a doctor’s license, are practicing Chinese medicine “illegally”; whereas most quack doctors are protected by law. Isn’t it a wonderful play? As a result of this, many masters found a way to practice Chinese medicine in other countries. Two such masters came back to visit me when I was working in Director Ang Lee’s team on the concept proposal for the opening and closing ceremonies of the Beijing 2008 Olympic Games. We chatted on and on, and my journey to learn Chinese medicine thus started. My first stop was not somewhere in China, but in Australia.

 

      My friend Guo Bisong has been running a Traditional Chinese Medicine (TCM) clinic in Britain for over a decade. In recent years, she has often been invited to treat patients and give lectures in Australia. Whenever we meet, Chinese medicine is always a central topic. Seeing me idle around, she asked whether I would like to travel a bit in Australia and do a field study of Chinese medicine practiced overseas. You see, she knew me.

 

      Our friendship has lasted for over two decades. In the early 1980s when I was still a university student, we already had a “joint venture” — she taught me Qi Gong and I taught her English. Later on, I went to the U.S. for further study and work, and she settled in the U.K. to practice and teach Chinese medicine. We have always kept in close contact. Each time I went to Britain, I would visit her clinic. Now that she was invited to teach Chinese medicine and Qi Gong in Australia, and I was thinking of resuming Qi Gongpractice, why not just do it?

 

      We visited Sydney, Melbourne, Perth and Gold Coast. Wherever we went, we were received by foreign doctors running local TCM clinics. I was thus exposed to every kind of TCM clinic and foreign TCM doctor, most of whom graduated from TCM colleges in Australia. Many of them also practice Qi Gong, use both acupuncture and medicine, and some have specially traveled to China to learn The Book of Changes and Feng Shui(Geomancy). Each TCM doctor has a stable local client base. Although Chinese medicine is still not a mainstream choice, apparently many people now opt for it. No doubt it will become increasingly popular, for Australians love nature and natural therapies. Can there be more natural therapies than Chinese medicine?

 

       My last stop in Australia was the Gold Coast. Never had I imagined that it were to impress me the most, not just its long, beautiful coastline, but also my encounter with a foreigner who so magically unifies his passions for Chinese medicine and the sea. Of course, he is also a TCM doctor.

 

       Surfing Taoist Wally Simpson

       I first met Wally Simpson at the airport of Gold Coast. He was a white man over 50. Beaming and handsome, like a movie star. He had a pair of shining eyes. What impressed me most was his long white hair hanging on the shoulders and the cloth shoes with a round opening at the front. This reminded me of Kungfu masters in martial arts movies and Taoists deep in mountains.

 《自愈之旅》中英文连载 <wbr>2

 

       “You are so like a Chinese Taoist.” I grinned.

 

       “My students say the same about me.” he said.

 

        In addition to treating patients, Wally also taught Tai Chi and Bagua Zhang (Eight Trigrams Palm, a genre of Chinese Kungfu). I knew Warwick, a TCM doctor in Melbourne who first started to practice Tai Chi, and went on to become an acupuncturist and Feng Shui (Geomancy) expert. Seeing a foreigner practice Kungfu and Chinese medicine was no surprise for me. Yet being able to teach Tai Chi and Bagua Zhang was something extraordinary. Warwick had been to China several times, whereas Wally had not been to China even once. How could he grasp the essence of these uniquely Chinese stuffs?

 

       “From whom did you learn them?” I asked.

 

       “From a British master, for a total of 15 years.” came his reply.

 

        In the words of a Chinese, he is a formal disciple of his British master. “From whom did your British master learn them?” I dug deeper.

 

       “From an heir of Tai Chi in China.”

 

        I then sighed with relief — Good, it was genuine Kungfu.

 

       He was to teach Tai Chi that evening. I wanted to go along and he readily agreed. About eight students of different skin colours came, mostly young people, and each followed him to the minute detail. This was my second contact with Tai Chi (I learned some at PE classes in university). After this visit, I went back to Beijing and practiced Tai Chi for a while. More than a year later, 30-plus TCM doctors from around the world (including Wally) followed me deep into mountains in western Hunan province to observe how a folk master treated patients. Well, that is another story.

 

       Me meeting an Australian TCM doctor and part-time Tai Chi instructor who have never been to China, both of which revered Chinese traditions, is there a “spiritual bond” between us? Isn’t it a wonderful manifestation of the adage that “a bosom friend afar brings a distant land near”?

 

       “What countries have you been to?” I asked.

 

       “When I was young, I had been to neighboring New Zealand and Indonesia to surf. Back then, I was quite a good surfer, and had been to all surfing places in Australia. One of my friends even went on to become a world champion.” recalled Wally.

 

       I thought to myself, he did look more like an Australian when surfing.

 

       He continued, “In recent years, I’ve been to more distant lands, to Italy, Japan and South Africa.”

 

      “Not for surfing, I guess?” I asked.

 

      “Invited to perform and teach Tai Chi.”

 

       So he, an Australian, was traveling long distances to promote traditional ChineseKungfu.

 

       “Are you still surfing at this age?” I asked.

 

       “Of course.” He replied without hesitation.

 

        I was instantly filled with admiration for him. So I smilingly asked, “Can you teach me?”

 

       “Of course. And you will like it.” His reply was simple and clear.

 

       Now my heart and mind were yearning for it. I had long been curious about surfing. Riding the tides would be great fun.

 

       Wally’s three-storeyed home stood on a hillside in a dense forest. I liked to sit long hours at the huge balcony, reading, and watching rolling hills in the distance and wild birds that flew near for food. There was a dish of food on the balcony. The wild birds were almost domesticated. Occasionally kangaroos would appear in the nearby woods. After teaching Qi Gong classes, Wally spent two days with us. We strolled in the forest, swam in clear waters down a waterfall, and got to know each other better.

 

       Wally had spent much of his life in Queensland. At 13, he began to make his own living. Despite the hardships, he was free and happy. Before becoming an acupuncturist, he had done over a dozen jobs, as a garbage collector, milking man, electrician, miner, porter, painter, etc. As far as I know, he certainly has the most “job” experience. “Life makes me a versatile man.” He said with a smile.

 

       He had already been admitted into a teachers’ college. Then, on the day before he went to college, he followed a friend to see a Vietnamese doctor (a Chinese descendant) using Chinese therapies to treat patients. Later on he listened to a lecture on Tao Te Ching authored by ancient Chinese Taoist Lao Tzu. He instantly knew what would be the pursuit of his life. So he changed his mind and turned to learning Chinese medicine. During this process, he got to know Yin-Yang, Five Primary Elements (metal, wood, water, fire and earth, held by the ancients to compose the physical universe and later used in traditional Chinese medicine to explain various physiological and pathological phenomena) and Kungfu. He got increasingly fascinated by Chinese traditions and went on from external Kungfu to Tai Chi, and to Bagua Zhang.

 

       When it came to our rambling, youthful days, we found that we both liked the works of Hermann Hesse and Andre Gide, two men treading the waters of eastern and western civilizations. Wally was so thrilled to find a soul mate from the East that he ran upstairs and brought down all of Andre Gide’s works. I told him that thanks to a loosened household registration system in China, I was able to re-read about and compare the East and the West, to allow my mind and body to roam all over the world, and to sit down and chat with him.

 

       After nightfall, I had another discovery — Wally was also a terrific guitarist. He played and sang along, like a Beatles man, idealistic and turbulent.   

 

       Early morning on the third day, I put on my swimming trunks and headed for the beach with Wally. This was one of the best surfing sites along the Gold Coast, just ten minutes’ drive from where he lived. When he put down his surfing board, I found there was a Yin-Yang Tai Chi Diagram on it.

 

      “So you cannot forget about Yin-Yang even when you surf? What a marine Taoist!” I joked.

 

       He laughed and said, “In China, there’s the legend of Eight Immortals Crossing the Sea. Isn’t it about some enlightened masters using their magical powers to do it? For an Australian Taoist like myself, the way to cross the sea is definitely surfing.”

 

       With Wally instructing and guiding me, I began to surf, first-ever experience in my life. Normally, a beginner could hardly stand on the board. But lying on it and being washed to the beach was already quite something to me.

 

       Surfing is a sport that requires constant balancing of the body in the waves. It arouses your desire to conquer and you also have to balance yourself. This balance is consistent with the law of Yin-Yang interactions in Chinese medicine.

 

       After riding on the high tides for several rounds, I knew I had already fallen in love with the sport, just like how I had felt when I first tried skiing in Colorado. No wonder Wally said surfing was an addictive sport, hard to quit once you fall for it. In Australia, many employers, when interviewing someone, will ask whether he is a surfer. If the reply is affirmative, they will very likely leave him alone. For surfing is always on his mind, and he will rush to the beach before and after work. How could he possibly concentrate on his work?

 

      I could not bear to have him always accompany me in my surfing practice, so I pleaded with him to show me his surfing stunt. He gave me a knowing smile and pushed the board deep into the surging waves. I strolled to shallow waters, and when I looked back, he was not in sight any more. There were many young men and women surfing and having fun. I gazed for a good while, but only saw colourful surfers, blue sea and white waters. Just when I was about to give up my search, a surfer with fluttering white hair suddenly glided back into my vision at the speed of a skater. I was stunned by this dynamic scene — There was Wally, standing firmly on the board in his black surfing suit, riding on roaring waves in a tangential route, with a much higher long wave closely following him, as if it would fall unto him or swallow him at any moment. Under the blue sky and white clouds, and amid the surging waves, the Taoist was balancing himself on the board, with his white hair flowing in the air.

 

 

 

 

 

       For a Chinese, the image of a white-haired Taoist is someone with unique talents deep in the mountains or jungles. Such a free, surfing Taoist is a rare sight. We know the tale The Eight Immortals Crossing the Sea, but their magical powers can seem too abstract for us, not as visible as surfing. I believe this white-haired surfer is a modern version of the kind of Taoists described by Chuang-tzu, an ancient Chinese Taoist. Aren’t Chuang-tzu and the stories he wrote mystical and graceful enough?

 

      Two days later, Wally took me to surf again. I stood on the board once. Cool!

 

       Seeing me so exhilarated, Wally grinned and said, “Nothing less than riding on a woman in bed, uh?”

 

       I replied, “Well, that is correct!”

 

      Immediately, we could hear a symphony of our laughter and the sounds of waves flowing in the air.

 

      While writing down these words, I just received an email from Wally. He wrote about his life after I left, very simple, his usual style. He said that the sea and Chinese medicine gave him a certain balance in this crazy world. He ended with these words, “Life has no destination. It is a cyclic, endless journey, just as is revealed in the Tai Chi Diagram.” A wonderful image emerged in my mind: In the morning breeze, an over 50-year-old white man, acupuncturist and Tai Chi instructor riding on a board with Yin-Yang Tai ChiDiagram, “dancing” with the waves in the blue sea, with streamlined white waters along the route. 

 

      Will this be the future image of a TCM doctor? A future Taoist or monk? I then pictured myself a black-haired Taoist surfing on high waves, with my beard floating in the air. All around me are surfers with colourful hairs, white, blond, brown, yellow...

      


我要收藏

0 个赞

分享到

请先登录才可以进行评论