Symmetry, simplicity and possibility

It’s now 16 years since I wrote my first blog, back in the summer of 2007 (and nearly 25 years since I started Wing Tsun Kung Fu). The topic was that of the 3 Star Poles (called Saam Sing Chong in Cantonese) – specially designed wooden stakes that are used for developing your kicking prowess. Whilst the blog no longer exists – having disappeared into the ether when my server inexplicably lost my whole website in 2015 – this memory remains etched inside of me as if it was yesterday.

One reason I remember writing that blog post so vividly is that it was pretty emotive for me. There was none of this training in the country and, having only ever seen them in Grandmaster Leung Ting’s book Wing Tsun Kuen, it seemed an impossible, mystical dream that I would ever even try them. So to have not only learnt them, but have poles of my own was quite a poignant moment.

However, another reason that this stayed so close to my heart is that it was my father’s old friend Rupert (sadly now passed away) who helped make this happen. I look back with so much affection at how Rupert helped me do this out of the goodness of his heart and using the old school forestry techniques he had perfected. Together we curated the whole process from start to finish – from cutting down the tree, to measuring it into lengths, to stripping the bark, to preparing the ground, digging the holes and embedding the poles.

The tree selected was a hardwood that gave the dual need of being tough enough but also needing to be cleared – and in this case it was a maple that had a beautiful red colour once the bark was removed. So for nearly two days we toiled to gets these into the ground. Well, to be precise – I toiled (as the ground, being an ancient glacier river bed, was fill of stones, and like concrete after the first part of the top soil removed). Rupert, however, used his techniques so expertly that he was able to continue almost effortlessly. In a perfect illustration of wisdom of his ‘Kung Fu’ (meaning a skill acquired by hard work) he used his knowledge and skills wisely compared to my physical enthusiasm, which meant I suffered for a few days afterwards whereas he, even though he was in his mid 60’s, just continued his work as normal.

These poles lasted quite a few years – until they eventually broke from the repeated kicking (I was pretty enthusiastic about developing my kicks…).

Fast forward 16 years and now we have 3 sets of these poles – so that not just me, but my students can train them with me. While not hand crafted by me this time, it remains a magical experience to practise one of the rarest methods in Wing Tsun.

And that perhaps, is one of the things that I admire most about Wing Tsun – there is a symmetry, simplicity and possibility that permeates you when you train. When it touches you, the impossible truly happens…