In 2016 the world was to change in ways we could not predict. The day after the election people came to classes, but no one could talk. Eyes were red and swollen, bodies exhausted and dehydrated. I simply put a white sign on the wall that said, “May Peace Prevail on Earth.” I taught in silence that day, we all breathed in and breathed out our shock and grief. The rage hit a few days later; everyone wanted to talk. I had to shut it down fast and we all agreed to commit our dojo as a safe space; no political conversation allowed. Instead we continued to use our practices to move our energy to keep flowing and simply share breath, sweat and time together.

We were very bonded then. The year had been a good year with stability and strong training. Another group of Moons travelled to the Village. Nicholas, Nikkie, Linda, and Greg travelled there for the first time. It was Nina’s second; Laura, Mary’s and Doug’s third. Gary & Kathy from Portland joined as did and Betty Dong & Robert Singer from AZ. I decided to make a go of the leadership role myself, which worked out just fine. We were all so comfortable together by then.

As always, the training was excellent even with the stifling heat. We trained with several of CXX’s Chinese students and had a great time on the floor with them. We did dodge the black flies that year though because we stayed in CZQ’s dorm down the road, where my Taijiquan sister Svetlana from Yakut, Russia was also staying and we enjoyed getting to know each other. The Village had changed a great deal by then but not all of it was bad. We had a lot of fun shopping in the new stores along the main street and prowling around the enhanced “Village Experience.”

And so, as we approached the end of the year, we had a true dojo, a place to train and a refuge of community. It had been over two decades in the making. Unfortunately, we also had a very bad neighbor. Our landlord had unwittingly rented the other side of our duplexed building to a studio who taught classes with blaring music and microphones used to shout out cues. There was no soundproofing between the shared wall. We tried to reach a compromise with the studio owner, but it was not possible. We both felt entitled to our decibel preferences and the gulf between us was too wide.

The landlord did his best to fix the situation. Legally our studio was in the right, but the other owner had invested a great deal of money in her studio. She had every intention and the financial resources to fight the legal action the landlord and I were considering taking. Actually, I have to say, she was truly nasty. The landlord put in sound proofing for me as a last-ditch attempt to remedy his error.  Before he did, we all wrote sentiments on the shared wall, another way I suppose of dealing with our combined political grief and the trauma of feeling invaded by these new stubborn neighbors. David & Davidine gave a strong seminar that year’s end and added to the wall the famous axiom, “Learn Diligently, Train Bitterly.” It was to be their last seminar at the Moon on Market Street.

When 2017 rolled in, the beginning of the end loomed into view. The sound proofing didn’t work well; while probably worse for the teachers than for the students, every class was stressful. Our rent was due to rise again; a new lease was on the horizon with even greater increases. Seattle itself was becoming such an expensive crowded city that many of my students just could not make it across town to classes. Some of the students who were infused into the bedrock of our school decided it was time to move out of the area. Several of my long-time students died. Our foundation was shifting, and it was increasingly difficult to bring new students in because everyone was just so busy trying to keep up with Seattle. And that sound was a big issue. I was beginning to feel like the frog in the boiling pot of water.

I spent several months in 2017 looking at options and finally decided I likely needed to let the Moon on Market Street go.  I was beginning to sort out what that meant when my mother was unexpectedly diagnosed with lung cancer. I left the school in my students’ and teachers’ hands and flew off to Colorado to be with her. She died six weeks later. I will always be deeply grateful for my students, who handled everything so well under such extreme circumstances. It allowed me sacred time when I did not have to think about a thing and only be with my mother.

When I returned I needed to proceed with an exit strategy. It was a difficult time for me and probably for the students too, but also a relief to finally make that decision. I knew if I continued down this road, my health would suffer. For me, I had seen this situation now over so many years, people coming to classes to restore themselves after running their bodies and their minds into the ground. I knew that was me now. I had to take care of myself before I got into the type of trouble that would be hard to get out of. I do believe my students understood, they saw it coming.

I stopped taking new students because I could not predict what was to be and I did not feel it was fair to recruit for new students. I offered a “lease end” rate and dug in with the crew at hand. A few newbies did make their way in, even though I warned them the future was ambiguous. They seemed undeterred and actually remain at the Moon to this day. It was a spectacular year of training. We were all sharply focused and committed to seeing this transition process through. Everyone stepped up not just in their training, but also in their support for the unknown.

An unexpected bright spot for emerged for our Luohan program. After years of searching for a new teacher or group for us, a connection I had been cultivating for several years clicked. I had been emailing off and on with Luis Pedreros, who lived in Santiago Chile. One of his students had contacted me via Facebook for some help getting in touch with CZQ. They knew my relationship with the family because of all my posts. Ricardo said, “I see you all train Luohan! We do too, come down sometime.” Ricardo put me in touch with Luis.

Luis had long standing connections with the Chen Family. He, along with a man named Howard Choy had helped CXW immigrate to Australia in the 80’s. As fate would have it, Luis also played a significant role in the life of a man named Chan Yong Fa, the lineage holder and fifth generation direct descendent of Chan Heung, the founder of Choy Li Fut Kung Fu. CYF also immigrated from China to Australia at approximately the same time as CXW with Luis’s (and Howard Choy’s) help.

The Luohan Qigong is the inner Qigong system of Choy Li Fut. It had been kept close to the family for centuries until CYF decided to open it. Luis therefore had been studying this system, along with Chen Taijiquan, since the very early years of these lineage holders coming out of China. Gaspar Garcia had also studied many years with Chan Yong Fa, being instrumental in propagating the system in Europe. The connection was perfect.

After several attempts to organize a workshop with everyone’s busy schedules, the time had come. Senior Qigong students Laura, Larry, Lisa, Nina and I got on a plane December 31, 2017 and landed in Santiago Chile in 2018. Luis worked with us privately for many hours and we had a workshop. The training was exactly what I thought it would be: generous and compelling. We also met Raul & Marcel Toutin, who have the largest Choy Li Fut South America and similarly studied with CYF for decades. Raul taught Laura, Nina and I the Luohan Pole.

We had a marvelous ten days there and were treated like family, not only enjoying strong training, but plenty of BBQ and even a Pisco Sour (or three)! Luis remains very busy, but this meeting has allowed new relationships with the Luohan lineage to seed with the current top lineage teachers, Sifu Lane Louie in Australia and his top student Sifu German Bermuda in Argentina. We look forward to further study with them after the world opens again.