In the summer of 1968, I traveled to Taiwan from Japan in search of the Internal arts Ba Gua master Wang Shu Jin, who was widely considered to be one of the best empty-hand fighters in Asia. I tracked down Wang’s class, which met at the amphitheater shell in the park at five-thirty in the morning.

Meeting in the Park

Wang Shu Jin

There were many people in the park at that hour, doing all sorts of things, including Shaolin Gung fu, Karate, Tai Chi, and badminton. Some individuals hung from branches of trees to stretch themselves, some just strolled, others played saxophones.

I was absorbed in this surreal scene, pondering the meeting of ancient China with the twentieth century, when a massive man in white pajamas came waddling down the street carrying two bird cages.

It was Wang Shu Jin, a rotund senior citizen supporting 250 to 300 pounds on his 5-foot, 8-inch Frame.

Wang’s Challenge

I was nineteen then, a recognized young karate champion, and had brought with me a traditional gift of respect for Wang: a substantial amount of high-quality ginseng.

At our initial meeting, Wang did not hesitate to express his low regard for karate, telling me in no uncertain terms that, "karate is only fit for fighting old women and children."

In our ensuing sparring, Wang defeated me thoroughly on every occasion, tapping me lightly at will all over my body to demonstrate his easy circumvention of my defenses.

Wang Tests My Sincerity to Learn

Following my enlightening, if disconcerting, initial exposure to Wang’s abilities, I wanted nothing more than to study his ba gua. Wang decided to test my sincerity.

He gruffly ordered me to assume the ba gua chang Posture called Wild Goose Leaves the Flock and maintain it until further notice. This static posture calls for one leg to be raised to waist height as the torso is coiled to one side, and both arms are extended.

I assumed the posture. I collapsed several times and each time Wang’s assistant immediately drenched me with a bucket of cold water and ordered me to resume the posture.

After two hours, a smiling Wang agreed to accept me as his student.

What was Wang testing? Was it my commitment, ability to endure hardship, sincerity, or craziness (that is, passion for the Martial Arts)?

Perhaps it was all of these.

Wang’s Fighting Skills

Wang’s fighting skills were astounding. Wang commonly took on full-contact, no-holds-barred challenges from the best fighters in Japan and Southeast Asia, and always won.

When into his eighties, he could beat the toughest young men.

Wang Was a Human Oven

On cold practice days when there would be snow on the ground, his students would stand around him to warm their hands, as if he were a stove—a testament to his amazing level of chi development.

It was from Wang that I first learned how to use chi to create a high level of health and vitality. He also showed me how to use chi to generate power for fighting.

Ba Gua and Health

He also showed me that ba gua was important for health. Many of Wang’s students were in their fifties and had begun to study ba gua with no previous martial arts experience.

They came to Wang because they had started to become impotent or were suffering from chronic diseases.

After practicing ba gua, their impotence was reversed and their health, reflexes, and clarity of mind improved markedly. Their chronic illnesses either vanished completely or lessened.

Did I Lose My Liver?

One day, Wang asked me if I could feel my liver. “No." I said, “Can you?” “Did you sell it?” he asked. “If you did, I hope you got a good price.”

It was the first time I understood that the ability to feel deeply inside my body meant that eventually I would be able to feel all my internal organs and, with my chi, affect them.

Later, during my training as a Chi Gung doctor, I would use the ability to feel the chi in the internal organs of others so that I could heal them.

Wang’s Teaching Method

Wang’s teaching was mostly by example and relatively nonspecific. His main concern was whether or not you could manifest power, or chi. This teaching method gave few precise details about exactly how one was to accomplish this replication.

Wang’s basic advice was to practice. He would recommend repetitively practicing certain moves for hours and hours on end. "Practice," he would say, "and skill will come naturally." I took him at his word.