Urban Ascent

Have you ever woken up and realized you've gotten old before you even had the chance to notice? When I was younger, I always thought I'd make something of myself—that my life would be different. Eventually.

But eventually never came. Now here I am—32 years old—sitting in a cubicle I've long outgrown, staring at a screen that never seems to change. Just like my life. Another day, another meaningless spreadsheet destined to vanish into the void of this company's forgotten servers—along with the rest of my "contributions." Funny how quickly you can become invisible without even realizing it.

It's not like my personal life is any better. Just like my career, relationships always felt like a chore, something I kept putting off. And unlike the perpetually growing pile of laundry in the bathroom—constantly reminding me to buy more shirts—there's no visual reminder of just how much time I've let slip through my fingers.

But life has a way of catching up with you, doesn't it? Sometimes, the most unexpected thing can shake you awake. For me, it wasn't a new job or some life-altering decision. It was a web novel.

This probably won't shock anyone, but I spend a lot of time consuming media—books, manga, TV shows, movies—anything to keep me distracted from thinking too hard about where my life's at. Or, more accurately, where it isn't.

Lately, I've gotten hooked on Chinese cultivation web novels. And, of course, I did what I always do—hyper-fixated on the concept. One story, in particular, really grabbed me. It was about this 18-year-old college kid who, after being randomly added to some chat group, stumbles into the world of cultivation.

Naturally, he thought it was just a role-playing chat—people pretending cultivation was real. I mean, come on. Anyone with a brain knows that stuff's pure fantasy, right? If it were real, there'd be proof online by now. After all, everyone's glued to their phones 24/7—you'd at least expect a few videos to trend.

But you know how it goes. Sometimes that little voice in the back of your head whispers, But what if it is real? Sure, it's probably not. But you're alone, no one's watching, and hey—you already enjoy the novels, so why not indulge in a little meditation and play along? So, that's exactly what he did.

And that's exactly what I did.

This has to be one of the most meta realizations I've ever had—a realization based on a character in a novel having a realization. So, partly out of boredom and partly out of a deep, hidden desire for it to be real, I talked myself into meditating.

But here's the thing—these novels never really explain how to "circulate your chi," or whatever. So I guess I'm just winging it. After awkwardly shoving the coffee table a few feet into the kitchen, I plopped down in the "criss-cross applesauce" position—something I hadn't done since, well, who knows when.

I close my eyes and try to focus on my breathing, but all I can think about is how much my ass hurts from sitting on this cheap, ten-year-old carpet. Sigh. I should've just stayed on the couch. Whatever. Let's see if I can just zone out and "feel" the chi—actually—mana in the air. It's not like it matters what I call it. It's not like it's real anyway.

What exactly does mana feel like? Is it the air on my skin? Should I be sensing some hidden current? It's always described as being connected to breathing, so I guess it's like air, right? But if your "Dantian"—no, let's just call it your Core—if that isn't real in a physical sense, then it's not really about breathing, is it? It's more about the concept behind it. The Intent.

Whoa... why did that just give me chills?

To breathe without breathing. The idea of it, the framework. Absorption? No—more like intake? Gather. That's it. It's the Intent to Gather. This energy around me. This Mana. It's about willpower, I'm contending with reality, trying to reshape it, no matter how small, into something different then it already is.

The air feels thick—rich. Is this mana? It moves in a steady, cyclical flow, drawing power inward with each breath, then exhaling... weakness? It's almost like I'm being cleansed, impurities forced out of my body, the way CO2 is exhaled to make room for oxygen. Is this what it feels like for my core to finally get the energy it's been craving, after holding its breath for so long?

It feels so natural, yet foreign. How could something as fundamental to life as breathing be something you have to learn? Have I ever really been breathing until now? Focus. I can't get distracted—there's something I'm supposed to do with this mana, right? I'm supposed to circulate it.

But where? Into my lungs and out to my limbs? Aren't you supposed to use this mana to refine your entire body? So how does it reach all the organs? Wait... didn't they talk about minor and major cycles in those novels?

Maybe the "minor cycle" means focusing on each part of the body separately, and the "major cycle" is when you've completed them all. Limbs, torso, head—starting from the core, let it flow throughout my entire torso. It feels warm—the kind of heat you feel after working out—but just where I've circulated the mana so far. Wait, is it moving back on its own? Huh, it is—slowly, just like the tide. The "water" I've sent away steadily flows back, building up momentum before finally crashing into my core.

But it feels different somehow. Is some of it missing? I guess it makes sense that this "circulation" would use some up. TINSTAFL—right? There's no such thing as a free lunch. Obviously, if I'm using mana to temper my body, I can't expect not to use any of it. Still, though, isn't it thicker too? It's almost imperceptible—not quite like the difference between honey and water—but it is different, right?

Well, I guess next I'll do the left arm—call me biased, I am a lefty after all. Slow exhale. I slowly push the mana into my arm—very slowly. It almost feels like something is in the way. It wasn't exactly easy pushing the mana around my torso, but it definitely wasn't as tough as this. Is it because my arm is smaller than my torso, or maybe just because it's farther away from my core? It's barely made it down to my elbow, and it feels like it's gotten twice as hard again.

Am I doing something wrong? It doesn't hurt, at least. I guess I just have to be patient. Seriously patient. It only took a minute to circulate the energy throughout my torso, but it took me three just to get it through one arm—and the farther away I got, the harder it was. I thought it was difficult getting the energy past my elbow, but once I got to my hand, it felt like I was squeezing toothpaste into each of my fingers.

Fuck, I'm already sweating and out of breath, like I just ran up three flights of stairs. Lol—or maybe two actually. I'm not exactly in fighting shape, am I? After sitting around all day at work, only to come home and sit around some more, I have all the stamina of a man twice my age. Actually—how old is that energetic old neighbor of mine? He's always going for walks with his dog first thing in the morning while I'm half-awake, dragging myself into my truck to drive to work. He could probably make it up three flights of stairs faster than I could. Sigh. I need to get back into shape.

I guess I should be thankful I'm here all alone. Imagine trying to explain to someone why you're out of breath from meditating. Just thinking about how embarrassing that would be is enough to make me break out in a cold sweat—if I weren't already sweating. Alright, enough feeling sorry for myself. My life has been so sedentary these past few years, I could put my cat to shame—at least he gets up to stretch.

I might as well do the right arm next. That's my mouse arm, after all. The righties of the world might not understand, but us lefties end up using our right hand for a lot of things you wouldn't expect. I'm old enough to remember when corded mice in the computer lab made it just about impossible to use them with your left hand. I continue thinking about unnecessary things as I imagine the mana being pumped from my core out to my fingers.

Slowly but surely, I finish the next minor cycle, accompanied by another round of sweating, as I try to get my breathing back under control and gather enough mana for the next cycle. Eventually, I completed them all—with just the head left to do.

3:26 PM—I started almost exactly at three, so that means between each cycle and the breaks I've been taking, it's taken me nearly half an hour, and I'm not even done yet. Talk about pathetic. There's no way I'm going to take more than 30 minutes to complete this. You have to draw an imaginary line in the sand somewhere. I might have let myself go, but that doesn't mean I've thrown away my pride. One minute on the torso, followed by a one-minute break. Three minutes on each limb, followed by three-minute breaks. I have four minutes left before my sudden self-imposed deadline.

Slap. Slap. The sound of me slapping my thighs to psych myself up practically reverberates through my nearly silent apartment. Okay, focus. Deep exhale. With my eyes closed, I hear the minute hand on the clock strike 3:27, and just like before, I imagine my core pumping out mana, this time directing it upwards into my head. Even in my rush, it's hard not to notice how insanely weird this feels. Before, I said it felt similar to when you're working out—your body heats up—or rather the specific body part I was focusing on did. Sure, my head's gotten hot before, but I can't say I ever remember the feeling of it "straining itself."

You might do squats with your legs or curl a dumbbell with your arms—but it's not as though I ever did neck lifts or something, right? It's almost impossible to describe this bizarre sensation of your head (muscles?) exerting themselves. Nonetheless, slowly but surely, I circulate the mana throughout my head, just like I did with my other extremities. Oddly, it's not even as difficult as my arms. It's actually quite easy, but at the same time, it's taking much longer than it did with my torso.

Do I actually have quite a long neck or something? Lol, as if. Maybe there's just a lot of empty space in my head it has to fill. But eventually, and seemingly without much effort, this cycle is completed too. As I glance up at the clock—3:29 PM—I can't help but feel a little proud. Setting everything else aside, I set a goal and achieved it. Not bad for something I was making up on the fly, right?