Yiqiao Huang, Grade 11
UWC Changshu
It was an ordinary Monday in February 2022. I just came back from watching the sunrise in Yushan Academy, a traditional style building complex on the UWC CSC campus, and was walking towards the canteen. Suddenly, everyone was heading towards their dormitories – classes suspended, Nucleic Acid Test (NAT) completed every day, campus under close-loop management, Suzhou turning into medium risk area…
Then there were three months of online classes. At first, I felt bored, but later I found that I had a lot of spare time. To fill the void in my heart, I crammed my schedule and finally collapsed in bed every night. My head grew messy, but it gave me an impulse to try adding Traditional Chinese Medicine (TCM) practices to my morning routines. They are a set of body exercises/practices that TCM adopted from Taoism, aiming for a smoother flow of the positive energy in the body to rid of bad energy. I had received perplexed looks for this, but I didn’t mind because I was sensing the real happiness of “delayed satisfaction” that comes from good energy flow in the body.
The challenge of running my TCM club returned after I organized a community event, aiming to share the benefits of the TCM practices I persevered in for nearly three years. Less than 15 people came in total. After the event, I had some contradictory feelings: should I keep up my niche hobbies? I recalled all my niches since childhood: I liked historical fiction in primary school instead of manga, listened to world ballads in middle school instead of rock and roll, learned Guzheng (a traditional Chinese instrument) instead of hip-hop (like more of my school friends), and now, I’m delving into TCM as many of my peers learn how to wear make-up…
A few years before, I recognized that what brings me the most void is not within the niches themselves, but my expectations for others, including understanding and support, and when things do not go as I expect, the disappointment is more severe than being denied itself. I have learned not to place. A desire to “fit in” struck again. I can also understand the attraction of trends, and I maintain an open attitude, but in my opinion, this more spiritual and cultural precipitation attracts me because they withstood the test of time. I also hoped that others will understand my pursuit of “non-mainstream” things in the same way, but most of the time I receive only puzzlement, or, even in my primary school, exclusion.
The different side my peers at UWC showed me is that even if they do not comprehend my point of view, they still respect my choice. People came to try out to show support, then some expressed their authentic feelings and quitted halfway but gave me valuable advice to improve qualities of activities. With this group of people who remained, we explored different concepts of “health” from a TCM perspective and self-cultivation.
As TCM brought us a new perspective of looking at the human body as a whole and noticing the immaterial and complementary perspective of things (such as yin and yang), I found this contemplation about my passion a blessing in disguise. I learned to accept my differences from others and know my interests are valid. Perhaps most important of all, we knew when to listen to the needs of our bodies and take breaks, which proved helpful in academic stresses.
From then on, lockdown did not seem to bother upon my mind that often. Self-cultivation allowed me to converse with myself and make adjustments. Just as others at the school supported me through my self-doubt, I shall continue to guide others to take care of their wellbeing, spreading the benefits of my practices to others.
Then there were three months of online classes. At first, I felt bored, but later I found that I had a lot of spare time. To fill the void in my heart, I crammed my schedule and finally collapsed in bed every night. My head grew messy, but it gave me an impulse to try adding Traditional Chinese Medicine (TCM) practices to my morning routines. They are a set of body exercises/practices that TCM adopted from Taoism, aiming for a smoother flow of the positive energy in the body to rid of bad energy. I had received perplexed looks for this, but I didn’t mind because I was sensing the real happiness of “delayed satisfaction” that comes from good energy flow in the body.
The challenge of running my TCM club returned after I organized a community event, aiming to share the benefits of the TCM practices I persevered in for nearly three years. Less than 15 people came in total. After the event, I had some contradictory feelings: should I keep up my niche hobbies? I recalled all my niches since childhood: I liked historical fiction in primary school instead of manga, listened to world ballads in middle school instead of rock and roll, learned Guzheng (a traditional Chinese instrument) instead of hip-hop (like more of my school friends), and now, I’m delving into TCM as many of my peers learn how to wear make-up…
A few years before, I recognized that what brings me the most void is not within the niches themselves, but my expectations for others, including understanding and support, and when things do not go as I expect, the disappointment is more severe than being denied itself. I have learned not to place. A desire to “fit in” struck again. I can also understand the attraction of trends, and I maintain an open attitude, but in my opinion, this more spiritual and cultural precipitation attracts me because they withstood the test of time. I also hoped that others will understand my pursuit of “non-mainstream” things in the same way, but most of the time I receive only puzzlement, or, even in my primary school, exclusion.
The different side my peers at UWC showed me is that even if they do not comprehend my point of view, they still respect my choice. People came to try out to show support, then some expressed their authentic feelings and quitted halfway but gave me valuable advice to improve qualities of activities. With this group of people who remained, we explored different concepts of “health” from a TCM perspective and self-cultivation.
As TCM brought us a new perspective of looking at the human body as a whole and noticing the immaterial and complementary perspective of things (such as yin and yang), I found this contemplation about my passion a blessing in disguise. I learned to accept my differences from others and know my interests are valid. Perhaps most important of all, we knew when to listen to the needs of our bodies and take breaks, which proved helpful in academic stresses.
From then on, lockdown did not seem to bother upon my mind that often. Self-cultivation allowed me to converse with myself and make adjustments. Just as others at the school supported me through my self-doubt, I shall continue to guide others to take care of their wellbeing, spreading the benefits of my practices to others.
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