This is a statement that sounds a bit abstract at first, but becomes more and more interesting the more you think about it.
In Chanrou's world, you'll encounter teachers and students from all over the world—German, English, Portuguese, Japanese, and Chinese. But something amazing happens: even without a common language, people can still practice together, learn together, and be deeply moved by the same movements.
So a teacher said: Learning graceful movements has nothing to do with what language you speak. Because the movements themselves are a language.
This statement contains the deepest truth about learning through the body.
We are too used to learning through "language".
In modern education, learning is almost synonymous with language.
Teachers explain using language, we understand using language, we memorize using language, and we retell using language. From childhood to adulthood, we are trained to learn using the language center of our brains—if we understand, remember, and can speak it, we consider it learned.
This method is very effective for learning knowledge. However, it has a fundamental limitation when it comes to physical learning.
Because the wisdom of the body is not stored in language.
The body has its own language
Think of a baby.
He couldn't speak any language yet, but he learned to roll over, crawl, stand, and walk. He learned all these extremely complex motor skills without any language.
How did he learn? By feeling, by trying, by direct physical experience. He didn't need anyone to explain the "mechanical principles of weight transfer" to him; his body found that balance through countless attempts.
This illustrates one point: the body has a learning system independent of language. It learns through sensation, through experience, through direct bodily experience—not through language.
Chanrou awakened this very system.
Juliu's famous quote: Experience Creation Theory
Juliu Horvath, the founder of Chanrou, once said something very insightful:
"Theory does not create experience; experience creates theory."
This statement reverses our usual learning order.
Our usual order is: first understand the theory (in language), then experience it. First, understand the principles the teacher explains, then try to do it with your body.
But Juliu says the opposite: experience comes first, then theory has meaning. You must first truly feel something in your body before the theory about it, the explanation in words, truly "comes alive."
Before you truly feel what it's like to "initiate action from the seed center," any verbal explanation of the seed center is merely an abstract concept. Only when your body suddenly feels it—at that moment—do you truly "understand," and that understanding doesn't require language.
Why is language sometimes an obstacle?
This is the most counterintuitive part: when learning about the body, language is sometimes not just insufficient, it can even become an obstacle.
When you use your brain's language center to analyze a movement—"How high should my arm be raised?" "How much force should I use in my core?"—you are activating a cognitive, analytical circuit. This circuit is slow, and it interferes with the body's instinctive, fluid coordination.
Have you ever had this experience: something you used to do very naturally, you suddenly find yourself doing it worse once you start "thinking" about how to do it? This is because language and analysis interfere with the body's instincts.
Chanrou's teaching often helps you "bypass" language—through imagery, touch, and rhythm, to directly communicate with the body's sensory system, rather than through the brain's language center.
This is why Chanrou uses "imagery" instead of "commands".
If you pay attention to Teacher Chanrou's guided language, you will notice a characteristic: they rarely use precise anatomical instructions, but instead make extensive use of imagery.
It's not about "contracting your transverse abdominis," but rather "imagining your navel gently moving towards your spine." It's not about "extending your spine axially," but rather "imagining a line on the top of your head gently lifting you upwards." It's not about "activating your hip external rotators," but rather "imagining your thighs spiraling outwards."
Why use imagery?
Because imagery is the bridge between language and the body. A good image doesn't require your brain to analyze; it directly evokes a physical sensation. "Flowing like ocean waves"—you don't need to understand the physics of ocean waves; your body knows what that feels like.
Imagery is a language that can bypass analysis and directly engage with the body. It is part of the "language of action."
Actions are a language that can be "read".
To return to the initial statement: the action itself is a language.
This sentence also has another layer of meaning.
An experienced teacher like Chanrou can "read" a lot just by watching you move—where you are tense, where you are compensating, where you are not participating, what your state is like today, and what kind of history your body carries.
These messages are not told to him by words, but rather "spoken" by your body through actions.
Similarly, when a teacher demonstrates an action with his body or guides your body with his hands, he is also "speaking" with actions—conveying a message that language cannot convey, directly entering your body.
At this level, communication between teachers and students does not require a shared language. A German teacher and a Taiwanese student can engage in a profound, untranslated dialogue through actions, touch, and shared rhythms.
What does this mean for learners?
Understanding this will change the way you learn from Chanrou.
Don't rush to "understand" every action with your brain. Sometimes, understanding comes after experiencing it—let your body feel and try it first, and that "understanding" will emerge on its own at some point.
Don't feel like you haven't learned something just because you can't express it. The body's learning often defies verbal expression. You might achieve a deep integration but be completely unable to articulate what it is—that's okay, your body remembers.
Put down the analysis and focus on feeling. When you find yourself desperately analyzing an action with your brain, try to stop and return to simple feeling—let the imagery guide you, let your breath guide you, and let your body find its own way.
A form of communication older than language
Humans have had language for only tens of thousands of years. But they have been communicating and learning through movement for millions of years.
Before the advent of language, our ancestors learned from each other through actions—how to hunt, how to make tools, how to dance, and how to live in a group. Actions are one of the oldest forms of human language.
Chanrou, in a way, is reconnecting with this ancient way of communication. It reminds us that learning doesn't necessarily have to be through language, understanding doesn't necessarily require being able to speak, and profound communication doesn't necessarily require a shared vocabulary.
Sometimes, a single action, a touch, a shared breath or rhythm can convey things that language can never truly express.
Therefore, if you encounter moments in the process of learning Chanrou that are "indescribable, but your body understands"—
That's not because you didn't study well enough.
That's when you started to understand the language of movement.
