“When the student is ready the teacher will appear.” – Kung-Fu saying
Photo of Ria G. Rombaoa
I started writing almost by accident.
As a few of you know, my profession is that of a Registered Acupuncturist (Traditional Chinese Medicine Practitioner). What this entails is me placing sterile, once-use-only needles into my patients to help their bodies remember to heal. There’s a lot of downtime between placing the needles and cashing the patient out – even when I’m running two rooms back to back – because a 20 minute rest is needed for the needles to do their job.
When I began in this field, I had a lot of questions and worries. Sometimes I felt, while sitting in my clinic alone, that starting a small business was the wrong thing to do. I was very blessed, however, to have some people to ‘talk’ to. I use the world ‘talk’ loosely as ‘emails’ were written back and forth on more than a weekly basis. I also use the world ‘emails’ loosely because they were more like novels.
I was writing – a lot. After a few years in practice I started following a blog by a Kung-Fu practitioner Suki Gosal. I wanted to start my own, and since I was writing so much, I figured I could handle it. A short time after, Suki asked me if I’d like to join forces with him. At the time, I had joined Suki and two other writers and thus began my journey.
After those first years in practice I got a rhythm down and between patients, or when they were resting with their needles in, I would write. I started reaching out to other writers, bloggers and martial artists. I set up interviews, wrote guest blog posts and articles, and exchanged ideas. I decided that writing would be another hat, so I put it on and worked hard to get published in a reputable martial arts magazine.
It is said in Kung-Fu that, “When the student is ready the teacher will appear.” I believe this to be true of other things, like how I found writing – or more likely – how writing found me. It snuck up on me and when I least expected it and became a part of me.
I’d never considered myself an artist. I was always jealous of how my children, still in the single digits, could draw better than me. How my wife could look at a room and remake it in her head, then put it to paper. How others could dance, skateboard and play chess. I always wanted that.
If you are a human being, you have art inside of you waiting to come out. Your art might not look like art in the strictest sense, but it is: art with numbers as a mathematician, art with music as a pianist, art with movement as a martial artist, art with colour as a painter, art with wood as a homebuilder, art with nature as a landscaper.
I’m going to keep treating patients, punching heavy bags and writing to see where it takes me. Will you come along? Let’s create art together.