Reminiscing Shaolin重游少林寺憶往昔

龍安志

Though it was over 30 years ago， I still remember the first time I came here. In 1981， I was a student at Nankai University in Tianjin. It was late August， and together with some classmates， we began our journey with a long train ride to Luoyang. A rickety bus up a long， winding dirt road， mud-soaked from summer rains， brought us the rest of the way to a legendary temple called Shaolin at the sacred Mount Songshan.

Having grown up in America with the television series “Kung Fu” starring David Caradinne， and as a practicing martial artist immersed in Bruce Lee books and movies， arrival at the gate of the iconic Shaolin Temple was both personal and powerful. Clouds drifted above misty waters like an unmistakably classic Chinese painting. What we would find inside would further awaken the mind， suspended still in a dreamlike astonishment.

Climbing the steps past ancient steles， we arrived at the Great Hall， the ultimate training room for Shaolins martial arts monks. There was hardly anything in the room， only a rack of ancient rusted martial arts weapons leaning confidently against the wall. I never forgot the haunting power of this room， marked by large indentations in the stone floor from years of monks practicing their martial arts.

Those imprints in stone， worn over centuries by monks repeatedly practicing the same kung fu forms in unison to work towards achieving their perfection， revealed a lot to me about a value called perseverance. It is a task requiring what we in the West call “blood， sweat and tears.” Perseverance represents the reason for Chinas economic success over these past four decades. One must devote time and patience to achieve a goal.

At the entrance to Shaolin， Master De Yang greets me. A quiet， humble monk， De Yang is one of the 31st lineage holders of Shaolin. He points to stone tablets， steles raised over decades and even centuries by martial arts associations from all over the world recognizing Shaolin Temple as the source of their own lineage. There are even carvings and records cast in iron on ancient bells， and writings on the stone tablets recalling earlier times when Japanese monks came to Shaolin to study kung fu， the origin of karate， even a thousand years ago. Climbing the stairs 38 years later， once again I am in the Grand Hall where the monks of past centuries practiced martial arts. “This is the source of kung fu，” explains Master De Yang pointing to the almost surreal indentations in the stone floor.

In another hallway Master De Yang shows me a mural dating back to the Ming Dynasty， with an array of monks practicing different kung fu styles on the grounds of Shaolin. “Shaolin has been recognized as the source of kung fu by many schools from karate， aikido and even Ninjitsu，” explains De Yang.

“But there is a common misunderstanding in the world，” he adds. “Many people think kung fu is about fighting. Actually， it is about self-cultivation. Making yourself a better person. Real kung fu practitioners follow a strict code of self-conduct and discipline. Kung fu is to cultivate the body， mind and spirit. However， in history there have been exceptional situations， the stories become legends and even movies.”

He then pointed to another mural of Shaolin monks riding horses to protect the emperor during the Tang Dynasty when their martial arts skills were sought by the emperor as a last ditch effort to save the dynasty from invaders. The monks agreed and the Tang survived and thrived. The movie “Shaolin Monastery” is based on the story recorded in this mural.

I was then received by Abbot Shi Yongxin himself， who had just returned the night before from New York City， where he had presented a call for world peace before the United Nations General Assembly.

My return to Shaolin after nearly four decades made me think about the inter-connected matrix of all things. During ancient times， Shaolin monks were called out from their meditation and practices to save the nation. Maybe they are being called out once again—only this time， to help save the world.

雖已是30多年前的事了，我至今仍記得第一次到這里來的情景。1981年，我是天津南開大學的一名學生。那年8月下旬，我和幾位同學搭乘長途列車前往洛陽，開始了我們的旅行。我們坐上一輛搖搖晃晃的公交車，汽車駛過一條漫長又曲折的土路，夏季的雨水把路面弄得泥濘不堪。我們終于到達神圣的嵩山，來到了頗具傳奇色彩的少林寺。

從小在美國看著由大衛·卡拉丁主演的《功夫》系列電視劇長大，而且我自己也是習武者，癡迷于有關李小龍的書和電影，所以那時親臨具有代表意義的少林寺，站在門口，真是感到既親切又充滿力量。水面霧氣彌漫，上方飄過朵朵白云，這景象像極了一幅中國傳統水墨畫。進到寺內，看到的一切更是讓人心曠神怡，觀者仿佛身處夢境，驚異不已。

經過一個個古老的石碑，拾階而上，我們來到了大殿，這里是少林寺武僧的主要訓練場所。殿里空蕩蕩的，只有一排生銹的古代兵器雄赳赳地靠墻而立。僧人們經年累月在此練武，在石質地面上留下了巨大凹痕。大殿有種氣勢讓我至今難忘。

幾個世紀以來，僧人們一起反復練習相同的武術招式，力爭至善，石質地面上的那一道道印記向我生動展現了一種寶貴品質，這便是堅韌。用我們西方人的話說，這是一項需要付出“血汗和淚水”的任務。過去40年，中國經濟成就輝煌，其根本原因就是堅韌。一個人要想實現某項目標，就必須付出時間與耐心。

在少林寺門前迎接我的是德揚大師。這位僧人話不多，謙遜有禮，是少林寺第31代傳承人之一。德揚大師指給我看那些石碑，它們是幾十年甚至幾百年間由世界各地的武術協會樹立在此的。這些武術協會都認少林寺為各自派系的發源地。寺里古老鐵鐘上所鑄的圖案、記載及一些石碑上刻的文字，向人們講述著早在一千年前日本僧人來少林寺修習武術的故事，日本空手道便由中國功夫發展而來。如今，時隔38年，登上一段臺階，我又走進了過去千百年來僧人們習武的大殿。“中國功夫就是這樣練成的。”德揚大師指著石質地面上那一道道讓人覺得不可思議的凹痕說道。

在另一個大殿的走廊，德揚大師向我展示了一幅創作于明朝的壁畫，畫的是一群在少林寺庭院中練習著不同武術招式的僧人。德揚大師解釋說：“包括空手道、合氣道，甚至忍術在內的許多武術派別都認為，武術誕生于少林。”

他接著說道：“但世上普遍存在一種誤解，許多人認為習武就是打斗。而事實上，它是修身養性，提升個人境界。真正的習武者奉行嚴格的行為準則，嚴以律己。武術能強身健體、修養心神。然而，歷史上也有一些例外情況，它們成了傳奇故事，甚至被改編成電影，搬上了銀幕。”

德揚大師又指向另一幅壁畫，是僧人們騎馬護駕的場景。唐朝時期，侵略者進犯，朝廷岌岌可危，皇帝請求僧人們用武術保衛江山，做最后一搏。僧人們答應了皇帝的請求，唐王朝轉危為安，得以延續并繁榮發展。電影《少林寺》就是根據這幅壁畫的內容改編拍攝的。

少林寺方丈釋永信也親自接待了我，他剛去紐約參加了聯合國大會，在會上發表演說呼吁世界和平，前一天晚上才回來。

時隔近40年重游少林，讓我不禁想到萬物之間總有千絲萬縷的聯系。古時，少林寺僧人們被召集起來，中斷修行，保衛國家;當下，他們也許再次被召喚，而這次的使命是：拯救世界。