Beginning
It was a long way to this bench, which was placed under the trees in front of the buildings for the visitors of Shaolin Monastery. Just opposite the monumental entrance area, with a direct view to the temple door, an impressive view. This is where I wanted to go, now I was sitting right in front of it, the world famous martial arts monastery, the center of so many kung fu movies with flying monks, incredible technique and almost superhuman performance, free from pain, the Buddhist martial artists thus within reach.
Now, at the destination of my journey, the courage left me, the doubts returned, unmistakably my annoying ego announced itself, criticized my entire decision. Rainer, what are you doing here, how stupid are you, how did you get this completely stupid idea, you in the Shaolin temple, martial arts from the monks you want to learn, they tear me apart in the air, against such fighting machines you have no chance. So, or so similarly, my ego turned its capers, searched further for reasons, why I should better leave again. I pulled my head in further and further.
Around me, an infinite number of tourists, most of them Chinese, gathered under colored flags, huge groups of travelers, always following a guide, each blaring into a megaphone, incomprehensible sounds, unfamiliar smells, I suddenly wanted to cry, I was suddenly really scared. Probably also of my own courage. How did I get here, what was I doing there?
But if I am already once there, then I could look at least the monastery once, before I would drive in any case with pulled in tail then again home. The laborious journey would not have been worthwhile otherwise in the remotest, and a few pictures could make yes also, as said, if I am already once there, the moment of the disgrace then at least savor, so that I can always remember the disgrace.
With leaden limbs I got up and dragged myself to the entrance, where the crowds were, cultural tourists armed with tickets and umbrellas, the Shaolin Temple was and is an attraction even among the Chinese themselves, attracting millions of onlookers every year. I stood in line to purchase a ticket. As I stood there so quietly, this immense awe gripped me again, the Shaolin Temple China, located in the sacred mountain Song Shan, the cradle of Kung Fu.
This is where I wanted to go, now I was standing at the door, my pants full, my courage chilled, Rainer, how did you come up with this idea?
Today I know: This way was my karma!

To travel well is better than to arrive
- Buddha - honorary name of Siddharta Gautama - 560 to 480

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