In today’s interview, we delve into the transformative power of ancient Eastern practices with Paul Lara, a seasoned practitioner and dedicated teacher. Discover how meditation, QiGong, and Tai Chi have shaped Paul’s life, from his early days as a stressed-out psychology student to his current role as a guiding force in the Toronto community.
How did meditation serve as a turning point for you during your time as a stressed-out psychology student?
I would say right away it opened up my perspective. Patterning our thinking across various dynamics, limits how it is we receive information. From day one, meditation offered me a fuller experience. It introduced me into ways of perceiving beyond my normalcy. At the same time, it taught me to ground myself, and begin to use my energy more efficiently. More feeling. Less focus on thinking.
What was it about QiGong that hooked you when you first started practicing it in the Czech Republic?
I was thirsty for it. I was just starting with Yoga at the time, but I couldn’t understand the teacher. I followed along best I could. Then I met my first QiGong teacher, who eventually became my mentor. A relationship that still exists to this day. I was hooked by the very first thing he said to me. Which was, QiGong is designed so that when you die, everything in you dies at the same time. Not from individual organ failure, not from any imbalance in the body. But where everything dies as one. That was all I needed to hear.
I was in my early 20’s at the time. Having a background in Karate, I was amazed with the strength and internal balance that QiGong afforded. Magical memories of those times…
How did your experiences in Japan studying Zazen, Reiki, and QiGong influence your personal and spiritual development?
Often times we tend to complicate what does not need to be complicated. I’ve seen this in myself, and I see it in many people around me. My time in Japan was challenging, because all three of my teachers there had a similar approach. One of simplicity. Without knowing each other, or any mixing of the curriculums, I found that underlying connection throughout.
Japan, much like most of Asia, is deeply influenced with Confucian principles. Structure, community, and purpose. Knowing myself, knowing what is being asked of me, gives me a much more clear direction. It’s weird to think of my time there like that, or in this way. But it’s true. Less complicated, more simplified.
Can you describe what it was like training Kung Fu under Master Zhang Yu Fei in China and how it shaped your approach to discipline?
To be honest, he wasn’t nice to me or welcoming with me for the first year. But once I earned my way in, so to speak, the level of depth I was given access to changed everything. Coming from a hard line himself, Master Zhang Yu Fei, was demanding. He used to make fun of me, thus breaking my ego and previous sense of accomplishment. He taught me how to be honest with myself. I can’t tell you how much this improved my life. That honesty, and going back to the word discipline, was how I truly learned to care for myself.
He would always ask for more, and only once, no, twice, did he compliment me on my practice. When I would do one hour of standing meditation, he would then ask for two hours. It was brutal. Physically and mentally, those were difficult but very rewarding years of my life. Master Zhang taught me how to be more objective and honest with my practice.
And this is what I bring to my students here in Toronto. An honest approach with objective, measurable results.
How has your practice evolved from the intense training in Asia to your current life in Toronto balancing family and daily life?
It’s still intense. Ha ha. But in different ways. Back then I had to ability to practice 5 to 6 hours a day. Like I said, it was difficult, but it was also glorious. Here in Toronto with kids, a mortgage, a business, the challenges have changed in shape. In some ways looking back at those times, was much easier than what I’m doing now. I still practice on my own. I give myself 1.5 to 2 hours every morning, but then I go to work like everyone else. That being said, I teach the same things. So I meditate, do QiGong, Reiki and Tai Chi all day long. Just in a different capacity than before. The responsibility and the consistency required in this position, keep me getting out of bed every morning, ready to fight the good fight.
In China, it was all about the fundamentals. These days in Toronto, it’s more about the application. In some ways, it’s easier to do what you’re told. The challenge of forging your own path is a practice all by itself. One that I consider, what it is to truly be alive.
What does freedom mean to you, and how have practices like Tai Chi, Meditation, and QiGong helped you achieve it?
In a basic sense, I speak of naturalness. To me, this is true freedom. Free from my conditioning, my insecurities, and my learned mind. Freedom allows me to put all of that to the side so that my heart is able to just do its thing. Free from other people’s ideas, even free from myself.
It’s still my focus and my passion. In a world of massive mental grooming and follow the leader, my practice continues to help me free myself from the group.
