Earlier this week I co-hosted Markstravaganza, a martial arts party in the park to practice with my old training buddies, the Marks. One of the Marks, Dr. Mark, moved to California years ago, so we don’t see him very often. Back in the day, he was one of the people I trained with the most in Mo Duk Pai kung fu — he and I had a similar voracious hunger for training, so we ran stairs and did sprints and punished ourselves with endless burpees for the sake of self-improvement. He was also my ride to class for many years, and he would drive us there in his black BMW convertible–almost always with the top up, even on sunny days.
Once Dr. Mark and I got to brown belt, Lawyer Mark started training with us too. He was a little ahead of us in the ranking, and we loved training with him. Soon the three of us were training together every Friday morning. The three of us would go to our martial arts school, the Academy of Kung Fu, and have the place to ourselves. I would put on music and we’d warm up, then we’d jump into whatever we wanted to work on. We sometimes practiced forms or curriculum, but more often we would practice partner exercises: push hands, multi-mans, knife defense drills. And then we’d always do some sort of terribly brutal CrossFit workout at the end.
I loved those Friday mornings. Since those practices existed outside of the structure of regular class, we had the freedom to explore what interested us. We would check in with each other to see if anyone wanted to work on anything in particular, and then we’d follow whatever curiosity or interest someone proposed. None of us was in charge, and I have to say, we did a great job of sharing leadership, working together, and keeping the spirit of play alive.
We were kung fu explorers, looking to learn more just by loosening up, playing, trying things. Personally, I was looking for moments of kung fu magic. Magic to me meant those moments when my body moved without me thinking, when some deep internal instinct in me would come out and do the perfect offensive or defensive move without conscious thought. When the art would express through me instead of me doing the art.
I found many moments of kung fu magic on those mornings with the Marks. They were always just as excited about those moments as I was. The attitude was, “Wow, that was cool, let’s try to do it again!” We became better martial artists together because of those mornings. Our teacher, Sifu Kyle, said to me, “Those practices you are doing on Friday mornings, they’re making a difference in your training. It’s great that you’re doing that.” I loved hearing that my teacher noticed we were getting better.
We kept those trainings going for a while, perhaps a year or two. They ended when I was about six months pregnant with my son. I stopped training in Mo Duk Pai soon after that– the sleep deprivation that came along with having a new baby sapped my energy, and the heavy contact level at our school was no longer safe for my wobbly postpartum body. The Marks continued to train and both earned their black belts, then their second degree black belts. I felt sad to leave Mo Duk Pai, but I ended up finding a new teacher and system that was a better fit for me. My new system is full of internal arts magic and safer for my body–no heavy contact. But my new system is small and the practitioners are spread out– our teacher lives a ten-hour drive away and I see her in person once a year.
Fast-forward to now, my son is ten years old. Over those ten years I’ve often felt lost as a martial artist. For many years I didn’t have the community of a traditional school to support me. I felt a bit like a ronin, a wanderer, a lost martial soul. I sought new community but couldn’t find one where I fit in. But then the loveliest thing happened. I reconnected with an old Mo Duk Pai training buddy, Sifu Michael, who is now a black belt with his own school. He invited me to teach in his school, and I’m now back in the Mo Duk Pai fold. Even though I no longer train in that art, my Mo Duk Pai friendships have persisted. The years of training bound us together deeply.
And so this year’s Markstravaganza felt a bit like a homecoming for me. The Marks and a bunch of our kung fu friends and I gathered once again in the spirit of friendship, play, and martial exploration. One Mark led a drill, I shared practices from my new art, and the other Mark, along with our other wonderful training buddies, took it all in. I felt a sense of belonging with this group that I haven’t felt in a long time. It turns out, even though I felt martially lost for a long time, I never lost my kung fu friends. They are around, and when we get back together, we once again have the opportunity to create kung fu magic together. I am so grateful for our friendship and community.
Michelle Folk Johnson 