THE SEARCH FOR KUNGFU

Long before I knew what Shaolin truly was, I was already searching for it.

As a child growing up in London during the 1990s, I became obsessed with martial arts. At first, I didn’t have the language to explain why. I simply knew that whenever I watched a martial arts movie, a cartoon hero, or opened the pages of a kung fu comic, something inside me came alive. While other children wanted to be footballers, astronauts, or pop stars, I dreamed of becoming a kung fu warrior.

Mj's Drawings from 2004

The first martial arts film that truly changed my life was Dragon: The Bruce Lee Story. Watching Jason Scott Lee portray Bruce Lee introduced me not only to Chinese martial arts but to an entirely different way of thinking. Bruce Lee wasn’t simply a fighter. He spoke about discipline, self-expression, personal growth, and philosophy. For the first time, I saw martial arts presented as something far greater than violence. It was a path.

That discovery led me down a rabbit hole.

Soon I was consuming everything I could find. Bruce Lee’s films became essential viewing. The opening scenes of Enter the Dragon, with its mysterious temple setting and disciplined martial artists, fascinated me. Then came Jet Li’s Shaolin films, The 36th Chamber of Shaolin, Shaolin vs Wu Tang, and countless other kung fu classics. Again and again, the same images appeared: temples hidden in the mountains, monks performing incredible feats, masters passing on ancient wisdom, and students enduring impossible training to transform themselves.

One word kept appearing.

Shaolin.

I didn’t fully understand what Shaolin was. I couldn’t have pointed to it on a map. I didn’t know its history or significance. But even as a young boy, I felt drawn to it. The idea of Shaolin seemed to sit behind everything that inspired me.

My fascination extended far beyond movies. The cartoons and comics I loved reinforced the same dream. Dragon Ballintroduced me to Goku, a martial artist whose entire life revolved around training, self-improvement, adventure, and becoming stronger in both body and spirit. Iron Fist Chinmi became my personal bible, teaching lessons of perseverance, courage, and kung fu philosophy through its pages. Thundercats, superheroes, action figures, comics, and martial arts magazines all fed the same imagination.

Every story pointed toward a life of adventure, discipline, and mastery.

Seeing my passion, my great-grandfather became my greatest supporter.

Together we began a search across London for the kung fu I had seen in the movies.

Almost every week became an adventure.

We wandered through Chinatown, explored Covent Garden, searched hidden streets and community centres, and followed rumours of mysterious martial arts schools tucked away above shops or hidden in church halls. Somehow, through his own research and determination, my grandfather would always manage to find another club, another instructor, another lead.

Each time I arrived with excitement and anticipation.

Each time I expected to find what I had seen on screen.

Yet the reality was always different.

The schools focused on self-defence. They taught anti-bullying strategies, practical fighting skills, discipline, and personal protection. These were valuable lessons, but they weren’t what I was searching for. I wanted to learn the spinning kicks, animal styles, acrobatics, forms, and seemingly magical skills I had seen in films and cartoons. I wanted the adventure. I wanted the philosophy. I wanted the mystery.

Most importantly, I wanted to find the source.

Looking back now, I realise I wasn’t really searching for martial arts classes at all.

I was searching for Shaolin.

I simply didn’t know it yet.

The images of temples, monks, and ancient traditions continued to appear in everything I loved. Each movie, comic, and television programme added another piece to a puzzle I could not yet see clearly. The name Shaolin echoed through my childhood like a distant call.

For years it remained just out of reach.

Then, at the age of eleven, fate intervened.

An article in The Guardian introduced me to a group known as the Shaolin Warrior Monks and their stage production, The Wheel of Life. What happened next would change the course of my life forever.

The search was over.

The journey was about to begin.