YMAA Chapter 2: A day in the life...

A Typical Weekday at the YMAA Retreat Center:

Up at 5:45 AM for a quick sip of green tea, always at the ready at a moment’s notice, thanks to a handy hot water dispenser, good self-straining teapots, and lots of teas to choose from…

…and maybe a handful of nuts or a bit of apple or pear (on the advice of Master Yang; “to keep the stomach busy and quiet during meditation") from the “snack bar” that’s open 24/7…

Mostly nuts, fruits, bread, peanut & almond butters, you know, typical snack stuff. (Yes, those are tiny dried fishes.)

…then it’s off to the octagonal gazebo, built especially for this purpose, for an hour of group qigong meditation beginning precisely at 6:00 AM. (These days it’s pitch dark when we begin, and only slightly less so an hour later, when we finish up.)

                                                                      This is what the floor of the meditation gazebo looks
                                                                      like, when it's not covered in with mats, cushions,
                                                                      and blankets. In the dark.

After meditation it’s back to the main house, where the indoor training studio is located, for 45 minutes of moving qigong; most often White Crane, but other styles too, as appropriate for special conditions. 

The main studio... ...and library/music corner.

Breakfast follows; the resident students (The Boys) usually head up to their dorm for this, but occasionally Master Yang –who cooks for all the guests- will invite them to stay, and cooks up a big breakfast of eggs, sausage, sautéed tomatoes and/or potatoes, and of course, rice. Almost always rice, with every meal, a habit I might just take away from here. After breakfast dishes are done, there’s a quiet period until 9:00 AM, when two hours of Taijiquan practice begins, which includes specialized qigong exercised designed especially for taijiquan, form correction, push-hands work, and taiji ball practice.

Zach doing an unauthorized "taiji cat" exercise.

At 11:00, I take the stage; I’ve been offering hour-long music lessons six days a week since I arrived. These have been pretty guitar centric -how that came to be is a story in itself, and I’ll write more about that in upcoming chapters- but I see to it that beginner’s level theory & piano are part of every lesson too.

After this, lunch at noon; again, Master Yang cooks for and dines with the guests while The Boys head up the hill to their residence; each of them is expected in rotation as “chef for the day”. (Though again, if guests are few and food is plentiful, we all dine together, something I especially enjoy.) The kitchen is again restored to “clean and ready” mode –everyone pitches in here- and then it’s quiet time again, for individual meditation, reading, tending to small domestic issues, whatever. At 2:30, the long afternoon conditioning and training begins. For the boys, this means donning a special weight training vest (designed to carry up to 80 one pound metal cylinders) for a hike down Yang Mountain (no one actually calls it that, I just made it up) to Salmon Creek, only to turn around a run –yes, run, back up. And by “up”, I mean 800 vertical feet over a little more than 1/2 mile, an average grade of …. whatever- I’m to lazy to make the calculation. But it’s pretty damned steep, if you ask me.

And silly me: I forgot; they don’t actually immediately turn right around and start that run from hell when the reach the creek. No, first, they each gather up 300 egg-ish sized rocks, worn smooth by the creek, and whip them at top speed at small log-targets about 15 meters away.


Pitching practice, essentially, except they throw half of their rocks (150) rocks with one hand, and half with the other. The goal is 200 with each hand, so they’re not quite there yet. But, since they’ve each committed to a ten year training program, they have some time to work on it. Now, as grueling as gathering and chucking 300 rocks every day may seem, Master Yang has actually softened up some to accommodate the general squishiness of 21st century America’s notion of “fitness”; they get to take their vests off for this throwing practice. But it’s back on for the run up the mountain. (Yes, I said run.)*

As a guest, I have the choice to participate in as much or as little of this training as I please. So I generally skip this bit, though I did prove –one more than one occasion- that I’m still a force to be reckoned with when it comes to whipping small hard objects on target (a necessary self-defense skill one develops naturally growing up and going to public school in a snowy northern climate, the natural habitat of predacious flying snowballs.) Instead, I usually join Master Yang, along with any other guests wishing to tag along, in a walk along the same route, thankfully unburdened by additional weight, and occasionally stopping to refresh ourselves with a handful of fresh huckleberries, which grow in great abundance on these second growth slopes of the coastal range.                      

And in interest of full disclosure, I will admit that I in fact skip most of the conditioning drills that comprise these afternoon session, which include (after recovering from the weighted mountain run): jumping up onto brick walls, over railings, and over a short stick held in one’s own hands, like a short, stiff jump rope; upper body conditioning on bars, rings & ropes; various tortures with long staffs & cinder blocks, often while standing on top of two standard red building bricks stacked end on end.

Patrick "3 Brick" Manrioquez. (That's three bricks end-to-end he's qigoning on. Radical.

Most of this occurs in this covered outdoor training pavilion located near the dorm, and continues until 6:00 PM, when everyone gathers at the main house again for a half hour of reaction time training –basically blocking punches- and finally, a 30 minute question and answer/lecture session conducted by Master Yang. These are fascinating, featuring Master Yang holding forth on topics that range from very precise technical questions about the effect of weather on meditation breathing, or a particular hand position for a wrist lock, to first-hand stories about the effects of the Japanese occupation of Taiwan, and stern lectures about keeping order in the communal dorm.

At 7:00 PM the training day officially ends, and dinner is prepared. Master Yang cooks, and again, sometimes invites the boys to stay for dinner with the guests, using that occasion for lessons in the proper preparation of traditional Chinese dishes. Otherwise the students fend for themselves –in their fully stocked and equipped communal dormitory kitchen.

The food Master Yang prepares is fabulous; home cooked Chinese and other international dishes, at least three per meal, made with fresh vegetables from the center’s organic garden & greenhouse.

On his cardiologist’s recommendation, Master Yang takes one modest glass of red wine with dinner. By the time dishes are done and order restored to the kitchen area, it’s 8-8:30, and everyone pretty much heads off to their rooms, often right into bed.

Saturday's are pretty much the same as any other weekday, until the afternoon session; then, instead of conditioning, it's chores, which range from chopping firewood to cleaning the residences- whatever needs doing.  Sunday is the only real day of rest in the week, and even then trips into town for provisions are common, though communal dinners at a local Chinese buffet (always Dr. Yang's treat, at restaurants he has personally vetted and approved) are a nice fringe benefit.

Lather, rinse, repeat.