About Me
I’m Johnny C, and I’ve lived a life less ordinary by most accounts. I’ve been characterized by others as a product of China, the Philippines, and the United States; am a Gen-Xer, Third Culture Kid, bookworm, music addict, traveler, gamer, writer, dog lover, and a host of other things I probably will remember later that aren’t totally essential to list down.
Most of my life, I’ve spent trying to figure out just who I am and where I fit into the grand scheme of things. Whether it was me being a slacker as people called me and my peers growing up due to our obsession with popular culture or trying to be a model student and eventually trying to save the world, I found that happiness wasn’t a fish that I could catch so easily by trying to be so many things.
Then one day, I realized a very simple insight that embraced “non-being” and “non-doing”, also known as a core concept in Daoism, wu wei.
When it was described to me at first, I read it like any lazy know-it-all and assumed I knew it.
Boy, was I wrong.
How I ended up really appreciating wu wei was from practicing Dao, which in turn happened because I began doing internal martial arts—specifically Tai Chi (more formally known as Taijiquan) and Xin Yi, the latter being my specialty. It eventually got me exploring qigong (also spelled chi kung) for my health, then exploring diet, then devouring the philosophy and sitting on it or walking around pondering it, talking with others directly and indirectly about it, and eventually being one with it, as cliché as that sounds, but it actually worked and makes sense when you actually do it!
Really now, instead of looking at my life and the traumas I suffered from an abusive family or the depression that I endured from time to time from moving around in several countries growing up, instead of trying to acquire prestige through academic and professional achievements, material possessions, financial success, attempting to build a body that resembled something on the cover of GQ or Men’s Health and Fitness magazines, I can look at my life through the lens of simply being me, which I wounld’t have achieved without the cosmic perspective of realizing Dao.
Now before I go on, no, I am absolutely not enlightened, not a master, a guru, or anything special. I’m just me, and I found a way to appreciate and cultivate me instead of trying to fit all that I am into multiple boxes (kind of a gruesome image, too).
When I began practicing qigong and internal martial arts, my dad had died and he suffered greatly due to poor health, habits, and life choices. I swore I would never go the way he did, and at the same time, I also vowed that I would help people as best as I can. Initially, I tried to do a lot of work in international development in the NGO and nonprofit field, and it took me to places like East Timor, Sri Lanka, and Cambodia. When my final contract at a children’s hospital ended, I decided it was time to practice more internal arts since I didn’t really like yoga too much, and figured at least teaching a little Tai Chi on the side could be some supplementary income between contracts.
In a little over a year, I went from going between contracts in different NGOs and countries to pretty much helping people with my Dao-inspired skillset for teaching internal martial arts and qigong, offering ear acupuncture, offering counseling and coaching as part of my work with student in internal arts studies, and just living in a state of openness as opposed to my prior state of confusion and denial.
These days, I teach people how to meditate, how to improve their health, and develop internal power to do things like fajin, or emit power, all primarily from Daoist influence, but not necessarily exclusively so because of other things I’ve studied to expand this niche of helping people. I’ve studied Vedic mantra chanting, metaphysical and occult studies from Agrippa to Crowley, physical culture from individuals like The Great Samson, Charles Atlas, and Maxick, and yet I also enjoy playing my Nintendo and PlayStation, listening to 90s rock music, cuddling my dogs and cats that were rescued off the streets of Manila, and reading sci-fi and fantasy alongside literature and philosophy. And as odd as this eclectic mix may sound, it helps me relate to my students and peers without trying to be anything or anyone else but me.
I wasn’t interested in opening a yoga studio and getting a tattoo of Om Mani Padme Hum like some of my friends did, but hey, more power to them even if I am critical of it often. I practice Dao to be myself, get paid to be myself, and to help people find ways to incorporate Dao into their lives, whether it is coaching to look at them through that framework and my perspective, counseling them because a lot of catharsis comes when they study internal arts and meditation, and allow them to decide who they want to be, especially friends in their late 40s who realize that they want to be like Goro Majima when they grow up or more importantly, freeing people from the idea that they need to do something or be something to win the battle of relevance in the 21st century.
The battle of relevance for me is something I lost long ago, and it brought me a lot of relief, because one of the basic concepts of Daoism, De, or the virtue of simplicity and all things small and insignificant, I stopped caring about being famous or “worthy”. Like an old Saturday Morning Cartoon or after school special, I found I was all right with myself without needing to fill a checklist of achievements (though that doesn’t stop me from improving still).
De was like wu wei for me: not needing to give a crap about most things because what is essential can’t be seen with the eyes. So instead of trying to look good to people who aren’t even paying attention or worrying about those judging me who ultimately don’t care, I focused on what really mattered and that led to feeling good about myself (most of the time) and what I do and have, and it really doesn’t take a lot.
So here I am teaching people qigong or internal martial arts, writing about life, the universe, and everything, counseling, coaching, and spreading general mirth while having fun. I saved money by living simply, and I discovered things that made me a lot happier than the distorted lens by which I initially looked at the world (though I still can’t stand a lot of modern music or fashion).
Come as you are, as you were, as I want you to be, as a friend—or go. I’m just happy to have you read through that and use that to decide if you want me to be one of your friends in discovering Dao or even one of your teachers for practicing and living Dao (but of course still a friend too).
