Nagual Time

Discipline and Simplicity in the Year of the Water Dragon

2012-01-22T11:35:00.001-08:00

The Chinese New Year is upon us again. After much thought and consideration, I have decided to participate in the 100 Day Challenge again this year. It has been a very good thing for me the last couple of years. I have been able to finish training goals I had started but could never quite bring to fruition. Taking the time to work on a single skill every day, for 100 days, will take one's game to the next level.

This year in general my focus is on simplicity. I want to contain my practice a bit so that I can better focus on certain skills that I feel are necessary. I have already begun this, but the 100 Day Challenge allows me to narrow my overall focus to certain skills. This year I will be working on Zhan Zhuang, standing meditation. Since that is already a crucial part of my practice, one could say I'm not setting the bar very high. But, on the other hand, it's not always a process of learning a new skill. It's also a process of instilling discipline. While I do practice standing often, I'm not always as diligent as I could be, especially on the days when time is short. And since I have a day job that is not Taiji, I have to make time to practice. Most of the time that's not so hard. And I always find some time to practice. However, on the more challenging days, I may only do the form or sitting meditation, or just a little dynamic Qigong together with aerobic, weight-bearing, or martial training and never get to standing at all. For the next 100 days, at least, I will find time every day for at least some standing.

Concurrently, I am going to re-read Warriors of Stillness, one of the best books I have ever read on the discipline and practice of standing meditation. Also, to instill discipline, I will keep a record in my journal of my practice, insights, challenges.

The crucial and important thing about the 100 Day Challenge, is it's not simply a New Year's resolution. It's a practice. For those of us who are already practicing, it is, or should be, an adjustment to our practice. Since it is life, I expect some changes, some challenges, some new insights to arise by the time it's all over. In the meantime, let's saddle up and take a ride.

What Did I Learn in 2011?

2011-12-30T13:42:00.000-08:00

I feel compelled, as I often do at the end of the year, to reflect on the previous year and review what I learned. The problem I usually have is that of short-term/long-term memory. Recent events are more cogent for me. But alas, I will do my best.

In general terms:
I learned I'm not as diligent at writing as I used to be. And i just can't seem to get much better, or more diligent.

I've learned to let go--rather, I've gotten better at it.

I've learned I need to work on getting beyond duality and the ego.

I've learned to appreciate Qigong and sitting meditation a lot more.

In specific terms:
I learned the Yang LuChan Taiji form.

I made significant improvements in my understanding of and abilities in I Liq Chaun and appreciate the depth of the art much more.

To that end, I have increased my appreciation of my primary art, Chen-Hunyuan Taiji much much more--specifically the importance of nurturing.

I have improved my Chin Na and sparring skills

I have learned that I don't fit in well with many Tai Chi groups and organizations, and I am quite content with that realization.

I have learned the the Yang LuChan Taiji form is the best Qigong I have ever experienced. I have every good reason to simplify my practice--but I won't be dropping that. It's just that powerful.

To that end, I have learned I am better off being multi-dimensional and not sticking too rigidly to any one system. I just operate better that way--always have.

I have come to appreciate my religious beliefs and realize I need my faith community.

To that end, I have come back around to really valuing silence and simplicity.

Further, I realize the internal need to slow down.

In the past year my Taiji skills have improved. I have trained and practiced a lot.

I have increased my time in meditation and can feel the gains.

A teacher I really looked up to and appreciated passed away.

My mom passed away, and I am still hurting from that. I feel the need to spend some time alone--possibly a retreat.

In the coming year (The Dragon):

For the past couple of years I have participated in The One Hundred Day Challenge on the Chinese New Year. I'm not sure I'm up to that this year--not sure I want to. But the jury is still out on that.

I am going to spend more time on the healing arts and meditation this year. Following the Chen-Hunyuan tradition, I am placing a higher priority on nurturing and contemplation. As far as my art goes, I will be working more on depth and less on width or breadth. I am also going to engage in the art of subtraction, or practical simplicity; live more through less. And that's about as far as I will go in terms of resolutions or predictions.

I do expect 2012 to be good, to be different. And that's enough for anyone.

And the Knees Have It

2011-12-16T11:29:00.000-08:00

I have been having trouble with one of my knees lately, which has directed me in a different direction with my training--at least till this heals and/or passes. In any case, the shift in focus has highlighted some areas of my training that need more attention. The first of these, and the most important, is meditation. The latest slow-down has given me the opportunity to notice how much more I should meditate. I do meditate on a regular basis, and meditation is a core aspect of the Taiji/Qigong classes I teach. However, time is short, life is busy, and I don't get enough long sessions on the Zafu.

I have, over the last two years, increased my practice of Qigong and Taiji form. And the benefits have been enormous. However, there is no substitute for sitting. And, as I have said numerous times before, nothing is more important than waking up. Nothing. So, with a little pain comes insight. I'll take it however I get it.

It appears this latest injury may take a little more time than I expected for healing. In the meantime, I am cutting out any boxing, heavy push hands, the Pao Cui (Erlu), Hao Chuan, and any fajin practice. I'm going to use the time to work on meditation and investigate various healing modalities. Ahh, the joy of getting old.

The Ever-Narrowing Path

2011-10-07T13:21:00.000-07:00

Do not go by revelation

Do not go by tradition

Do not go by hearsay

Do not go on the authority of sacred texts

Do not go on the grounds of pure logic

Do not go by a view that seems rational

Do not go by reflecting on mere appearances

Do not go along with a considered view because you agree with it

Do not go along on the grounds that the person is competent

Do not go along because [thinking] 'the recluse is our teacher

The Buddha (Kalama Sutta)

Right from the beginning here, I realize this post may bother a few folks, probably some people I care about quite a lot. So, right from the beginning I want to say that is not my intention, but I do understand how that may be a consequence. What I truly hope is that something here speaks to everyone who reads this.

I got the title, "The Ever-Narrowing Path" from a conversation with my friend, Paul Read, about how unfortunate it is that in the martial arts world in general, and the Taiji world in particular, so many people are caught up in such superficial concepts as lineage, and "the way it's supposed to be done", and our style vs. your style, and this family as opposed to that family, and interpreting history, short form vs. long form, and martial vs health, and traditional vs contemporary, and on and on.... I do think it is a natural thing to want to understand one's art. Good research would have you discuss with those who have been at it a while, read books on the topic, see what your teacher and your lineage has to say about things, and see what other teachers and lineages have to say. But at the same time, I think it is counterproductive to rely solely on what your teacher and lineage have to say. Not that they may mislead you, or that they may be wrong. My point is that in Taiji, as in all things, we need to get to a point where we think for ourselves--even if our thoughts are different or in direct opposition to our teacher/lineage/system.

It is downright discouraging to me to see very talented and knowledgeable people openly belittling others to, apparently, only boost themselves or their "system". It's even more discouraging that when I bring up an unusual idea or concept to another Taiji player, to see them defer totally, 100%, to their teacher or system, especially when another teacher or system has a different, but legitimate answer. Of course we should always trust our teachers and the system. But at the same time we should allow ourselves the right to think outside the box. We must remember that this is a human art. And humans are fallible. Taiji was not handed down by the gods, then diluted by devious humans along the way. It was invented by humans, has been practiced and modified by humans, and will continue to be practiced and modified by humans. I believe we should give our teachers the full respect they deserve. But at the same time, we should be bold enough to wander outside the temple every now and again.

In my opinion, one of the best things to happen to modern martial arts was Bruce Lee's Jeet Kune Do. JKD is not a new style, it is a different approach, a style of no style. Lee said that style imprisons us because combat is not limited to style. It was Lee's intention to free his followers from styles, patterns, and doctrines. Unfortunately, almost 40 years after his death, most martial artists have not taken his advice. This is especially true in the Taiji world. I recently read somewhere on an internet forum where a young student, new to Taiji and taking both Yang and Chen style classes from different schools was almost to the point of quitting altogether because each of the respective schools spent so much time demeaning the other.

When I'm faced with these arguments, and my friends' certainties that they, and only they, are following the one true path, I am reminded of the words of the founder of Quakerism, George Fox. When confronted with religious arguments based on the bible and the Church's traditions and beliefs, he replied: "The bible says this, and the Church says that. I ask you, what can you say?" To my argumentative friends in the Taiji world, I ask you a similar question. You say, "the classics say this, your teacher says that; according to history, Taiji should be (whatever); our founder Chen-Yang-Wu-Hao-Whomever said we should...." I ask you, what do you say? Instead of rumbling around, quoting the classics, arguing over history, who invented Taiji in what village on whatever mountaintop, etc... Look into yourself. See what Taiji really says to you. Try another form, another style. Really try it. Practice your slow form fast, with fajin. Practice your fast form slow, in small frame with extra emphasis on Song. Whatever. I'm not asking for a re-invention of Taiji, here. I'm just hoping that maybe we can all get along and think for ourselves at the same time. In an art that has so much to offer, it's a shame to see the artists imprisoned by dogmatism.

Knowing....

2011-07-15T06:13:00.000-07:00

"If scientific analysis were conclusively to demonstrate certain claims in Buddhism to be false, then we must accept the findings of science and abandon those claims." The Dalai Lama, XIV

I have a friend, a theologically-liberal Christian, who said she was speaking with a more evangelical fellow who pointed out in the Bible the very verse that specified why he knew, the source of his certainty. She said the ironic thing about it was that this very same verse was one she used to specify her need for the eternal search, why she always questioned the Universe and found any personal sense of certainty resistant to words. If I extrapolate that experience, I find the same thing happening throughout the philosophical areas of my life. There are parties and schools of thought, often at odds with one another, in every endeavor. I don't think there is anything necessarily wrong with that. In fact, I think there is something very right with that, because it shows that we are human, that we have the faculties of critical thought, and that we use them to individualize the things that are important to us. What does bother me are the self-righteous, the ones who know (whatever it is they know), because what they typically know is that they are right and everyone else is accordingly wrong.

Don't misunderstand. I also have my personal philosophies, my unique style, or styles. And there are other philosophies, schools-of-thought, styles, that I don't like or agree with. However, I am trying in my later life to not publicly criticize those whose philosophies are different from mine. I certainly can't improve myself, my art, or my philosophy by demonstrating how wrong others are. I am, rather, trying to approach things with an empty cup, so that perhaps I may learn something. By taking this approach I am indeed learning new and interesting things. And, as you may imagine, I am meeting a good deal of confusion as they run together, and a lot of resistance from those who think one should find a box and stay in it. As far as confusion, that is OK; confusion is good. It's a reason to examine my practices and look closely at my life and my art. As far as the resistance--so what? I've never fit very well into any parenthetical references. There is certainly no sense in beginning now.

For my friends and acquaintances who love their certainty, their partisanship, their hard-fast denominational allegiance. Bless you. Honestly. I am doing what works for me, because I found after trying many years that I just don't conform to anything very well. And I am pleased if you are doing what works for you. I am not criticizing partisanship, I'm just saying it's not for me.

Now, let's go practice whatever it is we practice.

Finding One's Place in Space and Time

2011-06-03T10:32:00.000-07:00

Taiji is a mindfulness practice. But what exactly are we being mindful of? It is of course our movement, the execution, correct execution even, of the form, push hands, or Qigong. And it's stillness, awareness of our structure, our bodies, our breath, the qualities of peng and sung. And if we examine these experiences we generally notice that awareness of one is quite different than awareness of the other. But perhaps a deeper experience of Taiji is to look for Wuji in movement, and Taiji in stillness.

Try noticing your physical structure, spinal alignment, peng and sung qualities, and breath while doing the form, or better yet, while engaged in push hands. It is easier, relatively speaking, to maintain awareness of these qualities in stillness than in movement, mainly because we spend so much of our awareness in form on getting the movement right. This speaks to the benefit of Taiji form, and the importance of going beyond mere memorization of the choreography. Once we learn form with our mind, we begin to learn it with our bodies so that we can perform without so much mental effort. However, that doesn't let our mind off the hook. It's at this point that we go deeper in our experience and understanding of form. At this level of understanding we become aware of the small details. We start looking for the qualities we find in stillness, we ensure silk reeling, relaxation and expansion (sung and peng), and structural alignment are present, and we monitor our breathing and move so as to lead with Yi, and direct Qi from the dantien.

From here we also look to become aware of these qualities in push hands, thus expanding our awareness outside of form into a free form application, and adding the task of being mindful of our partner and his/her qualities as well. This is a lot, a major undertaking. But this is one of many reasons why Taiji is a life-long learning process, an eternal means with no end in sight.

Getting to Know Yang LuChan

2011-05-06T12:43:00.000-07:00

Once again, I challenged myself to the Chinese New Year One Hundred Day Challenge. The idea behind The Challenge is to work on something, basically anything, every day for one hundred days beginning on the first day of the Chinese New Year. I put myself to the test last year and worked on the Chen Style Er Lu, second routine, or otherwise known as the Pau Cui (Cannon Fist) form. Admittedly, it is a shame to have to make an arbitrary excuse for training, but for me it works. The idea is to focus on this one subject, every day, for one hundred days. Before doing it last year I had worked on the Er Lu for years, here and there, when I could, when I could get my teacher to focus on it, when something else wasn't capturing my attention. But I never learned the form correctly all the way through. Utilizing the One Hundred Day Challenge as an impetus gave me the discipline to make it fall into place.

This year I did the same thing but turned my attention to the Old Yang Form, that of Yang LuChan. The greatest proponent for this style of Taiji in the modern age has been Erle Montaigue. Erle died a week before the Chinese New Year. So, in a nod of respect to Erle, and as preparation for the upcoming WTBA, Eastern USA Mini Camp, set for May 13--15, I took on LuChan's form. Consequently, the one hundred days will be over the day before the camp. So doing this has even more meaning for me.

Much like my previous experience with the Er Lu, I had never really given the YLC form my complete attention. I had learned it partially via video, and again had some instruction in the Small Frame approach from Erle at last year's WTBA event. Not long after that event I contacted Erle about learning the complete form, at which point he directed me to his "Taiji to the Max" series. This is a series of eight videos, in minute detail, describing this form complete, including all the martial applications, dim mak, and the Hao Chuan. The Hao Chuan is a nearly extinct style of practicing Taiji, with the ending of nearly every posture whipping at a fa-jing pace. Hao Chuan is translated as "loose boxing."

Of course a lot of Taijiquan history is debatable and disputed, like most history is, especially considering the lack of consistent record keeping methods. So there are some unknowns and some speculation, and various accounts of early Taiji practitioners. But, the way I understand it is Yang LuChan was a practitioner of Changchuan, or Long Fist Kung Fu, who studied the art that became known as Tajijquan from Chen Chang Hsing in Chen Village. He also apparently learned what was known as Great Pole Boxing, a system based on Qi Disruption Forms and the Original Thirteen Postures, separately. From there he combined all his previous knowledge with what he learned at Chen Village and invented his own system, known as Hao Chuan (Loose Boxing). Hao Chuan is faster than most Tajij forms, with jumps, kicks, and explosive fa-jing punches. Every application has a dim mak strike included. This is not your grandmother's Yang Tai Chi. This is pre-Yang Cheng Fu, before it was even called Tajijquan, and before it was made accessible to the masses. Of course the form doesn't have to be performed at the Hao Chuan level, but that is its highest expression.

Since the first day of the Chinese New Year, 2011, the Year of the Rabbit, I have been working on this form, and gaining profound appreciation of Erle Montaigue and of course, Yang LuChan. I do know the form all the way through, but not quite at the Hao Chuan level just yet. I also practice it at the Small Frame level, and find that to be extremely rewarding. As I have noted before, I find much knowledge in the practice of Taiji form. If we approach form with an empty cup, we learn something new every time. So it is with the YLC form. And while I can see the similarities with Chen style, much more so than contemporary Yang, it is still a very different approach to Tajiquan. A very deep, very powerful, intelligent, healing, martially effective approach to Taijiquan.

As of the writing of this post, I have one week left in my one hundred days. It has been very informative. I now know the YLC form. I feel that the challenge has been a success. Now, I have many years of challenge ahead to learn it at the Hao Chuan level, at the Small Frame level, to learn it well, so that it's second nature, so that it becomes a part of me, of who I am. That is, after all, what Taiji is about, isn't it?

Being Unified, Aware, Present

2011-03-29T13:31:00.000-07:00

At the recent I Liq Chuan Workshop with Sifu Sam Chin, he repeatedly emphasized the need to be present, to react to whatever the given situation dictates based on current reality and not some pre-planned choreographed scenario. This is the essence of I Liq Chuan. Of course to do this appropriately the practitioner must be unified. While that's easy enough to say or write or discuss, it's something else altogether to do. It's all the more difficult and confusing when we see it as not something we learn to do, but more as learning to be. But we aren't just attempting to be, as we've always been, which is mostly not mindful and not unified, but rather to be unified, aware, and present. And this is something that takes many, many moons to master.

Unification, in the solo sense, unifying the self, is based on the concept of moving naturally, which most of us rarely do. Note, that is naturally not normally. Normal movement is the way most of us move, but it is not natural movement. Natural movement is the way our bodies are supposed to work, they way they were designed to work, and the way they work most efficiently. We just have to train them accordingly. To accomplish this, I Liq Chuan has a system of training that includes, among other things, what is known as the thirteen points and the five qualities. It's not necessarily that these things are new to the Neijia world, they are found in most if not all internal arts. But this art defines them well and incorporates them into a methodology for learning and training that is not only concerned with physical movement, but mindfulness as well. And that is substantial.

The thirteen points are physical aspects that we should pay attention to. They are as follows:

1. Center of Gravity--center of the feet

2. Perineum pointing down to the balance beam line

3. Tan Tien--suction and condense

4. Ming Mien--project and expand

5. Crown--suspended

6.Sternum--suction and condense

7. Kwa--maintain the energy in the center of hip joints

8. Drop shoulders over the hips

9. Tuck the ribs

10. Nine solid and one empty on the feet

11. Elbows wrapping down

12. Knees pointing to the big toes

13. Balance of Yin/Yang

The five qualities of movement:

1. Absorb/Project

2. Open/Close

3. Condense/Expand

4. Concave/Convex

5. The Three Dimensional Planes (Frontal, Horizontal, Sagittal)

While some readers may not recognize all these terms, as written, most practitioners of the Internal Arts will recognize most of these concepts as they are applied. The thirteen points are for the most part the basics of good Zhan Zhuang, but applied to moving as well. The five qualities are concerned with movement and interaction with a partner. I'm not going to go into detail on these with this posting, but will continue and look at them in depth in the future.

The I Liq Chuan system is designed so that the practitioner learns first to unify him/herself, then unify with a training partner. The thirteen points and five qualities are fundamental to this, and to training the body to move naturally in all situations. An awesome task, but a worthy one just the same. I have been working with this system, albeit very part time, for some time now. I have a very long way to go, due in part to the small amount of time I have dedicated to learning the system. The nearest study group is over an hour away, and it's sometimes difficult to make a class that doesn't conflict with other commitments. In any case, I have been increasing the level of training time I spend with I Liq Chuan over the past year. And it's been paying off. I hope to spend even more time from here on. I am starting to integrate the teaching methods into my Taiji classes. Many of the concepts are the same and teaching something requires one to know it well.

But I Liq Chuan is not Taiji. Granted there are many similarities, but this is a powerful martial art in its own right. It is one of the most impressive systems I have ever seen. While it may take many years of training to become competent, I am looking forward to giving it what I can. I guess time will tell.

The Martial Effectiveness of Wuji

2011-02-19T05:58:00.000-08:00

To depict the ultimate principles of the universal laws of no truth and no untruth state, the mind should be observed with awareness.

To adapt to the vicissitude of time and to no present and no unpresent state, its force should be harmonized with awareness.

The Art of I Liq Chuan

Much attention is given to the concept of Wuji as a component of Qigong and meditation and the practice of Taiji. Wuji may be one of the most important, yet least considered aspect of Neija. Beyond the spiritual and health benefits, Wuji has important martial implications. The above noted quote, from the art of I Liq Chuan, summarizes the ideal martial state. We need to be balanced and aware, to observe the mind with awareness and to harmonize force with this same awareness. This describes the power and function of the state of Wuji. In Zhan Zhuang, which we also call Wuji meditation, we reside in primordial stillness, a state of balance preceding the birth of Taiji. Of course, with movement Yin and Yang are birthed into existence and we are put into a position of seeking balance. But we needn't seek very far, because the previous state of Wuji is a state of balance. To take it further, we need remember that movement is born of stillness, but there is always a little stillness in movement and movement in stillness, a little Yin in Yang, and a little Yang in Yin. Therein are the martial benefits of Wuji; finding Yin and or Yang when we need it, and always seeking balance.

The postural alignments and techniques of Zhan Zhuang, the Fifteen Basic Exercises of I Liq Chuan, or the basic principles and practices of Qigong and Silk Reeling should stay with us as we transition into Form practice, Push Hands, Chi Sau, Trapping, or other two person drills, and as we further transition into free sparring or grappling, and of course actual self defense. The point is that we want a state of balance. Wuji practices give us a feel for balance that we can take into interpersonal interactions. If we should find ourselves off balance, we adjust back to the feel of Wuji. Thus, these foundational practices have deep roots and broad applications.

Experimental embodied exercises can and do support the concept of power in structure. The process of tilting the pelvis forward and filling the mingmen are empowering. It is similar to the latent energy in a drawn bow. In this posture we operate from a position of power. Our movements are more efficient, as our bodies are unified. At the same time we are loading the bow, to be released through the issuance of fa jin.

Additionally, there is much to be gained martially from mindfulness. Wuji Qigong is a form of meditation, and we experience the myriad benefits of meditation in these practices. Among these is getting beyond conditioning and the habits of mind. This plays exceptionally well in martial situations, as conditioning and mental habits are counterproductive to martial effectiveness. Instead the martial artist should strive to be aware and present in the moment to deal with what happens as it happens. Push hands and other sensitivity drills emphasize listening as potent martial skill. To effectively 'listen' to our training partners we must be aware, present, and balanced, both internally and externally. We strive to know our attacker, to feel our own latent energy, and to be aware enough to utilize it when needed. In a nutshell, effective action in motion is premised and developed by effective awareness in stillness.

As we put it all together we find no separation between movement and stillness. It's all the same, as evidenced by awareness. This is the true state of Wuji.

The Real Deal

2011-01-31T15:38:00.001-08:00

Erle Montaigue, 1949--2011

The martial arts world lost a real giant last week. Erle Montaigue passed away on Wednesday, January 26th. He was a genuine Master of Taijiquan, yet he refused to accept any such titles. His friends and students span the globe. I feel fortunate to have had the opportunity to train with and get to know him before he left this plane.

Sincerity is a big thing for me. And if he was anything at all, Erle Montaigue was sincere. When I was composing this post my initial thoughts were of that sincerity. And I had to resist the temptation to compare him to some of the shysters I have met in my martial arts experiences. I considered relating some of those experience here, but changed my mind as that would serve no good in the end. Rather than disparage those who easily disparage themselves, I decided to focus on the positive. Getting to know Erle and to learn the system he taught has been a big positive for me.

Although he was one of the most talented martial artists on the planet, Erle was a very humble and unassuming man. As I noted, he insisted that he not be called "Master" or "Sifu" or "Sensei", or any other title that would place him above anyone else. Rather, he treated all his students, even the newest newbie beginner, as an equal. He taught and practiced in his street clothes. He has the largest offering of Taiji training videos known to mankind, most of which were recorded in his old barn or his back yard, with kids and dogs and chickens running around, clothes hanging on the line in the background, and his loyal friends and students all playing a crucial part in the lessons, and all as humble and as unassuming as he.

I am a bit of a latecomer to the WTBA world. But still, Erle treated me as if I had been around forever. We conversed several times via email or Facebook about Taiji and/or music, and I had the opportunity to train with him and Eli (his son) last May in Maryland. Each time, he spoke to me as if he had known me for years. But at the same time, he must have known a million people--easily. His students come from all over the world, and he apparently treated each and every one with the same level of mutual respect and admiration.

He will be missed. But, that being what it is, we must all carry on. Eli is now running the WTBA without Erle. But he will always be with us in spirit. I personally still have a long way to go in that system. But there are tons of videos to reference, lots of willing and qualified teachers, and opportunities to continue. The WTBA-USA will be gathering again this May in Pennsylvania. It should be a good time. Eli will be leading the training. And I feel quite certain the old teacher will still get a few lessons in after all.

I think it is a shame to lose such a treasure. But at the same time, I feel honored to have had the opportunity to have met and trained with him, and am thrilled to still have opportunities to continue in his system. Erle Montaigue was, without a doubt, the real deal.

The Nonverbal Attributes of Taiji

2011-01-16T06:44:00.000-08:00

A central component of most Taiji practices is the Taiji form. And although there are various forms in the wide world of Taijiquan, they all convey the energies and principles of Taiji in such a way that we can practice, learn, and improve even if we practice alone. As we begin to understand our particular form, it should begin to speak to us, to teach. Accordingly, it should speak to those observing the form as well. This is one of the nonverbal attributes of Taiji.

Often the messages of Taiji are understood, but are not necessarily conducive to ordinary language. Of course we need teachers, and the imparted wisdom of those more familiar with, or with varying perspectives on our tradition. We could never start upon our paths, or follow them intelligently without informed guidance. But our teachers are not always with us. And typically, as we progress we move figuratively, and often literally, further from our teachers. We often don't have easy or frequent access to them. But we still have the need to learn, to progress. Therein is the beauty of Taiji's nonverbal attributes. We can still learn, we just have to teach ourselves to listen the right way.

The nonverbal attributes are not limited to the Taiji form. I have found much wisdom, strength, and knowledge inherent in Zhan Zhuang practice. As a matter of fact, as I mature in my Taiji practice, I am finding much more information in the simple practice of standing. Often, in various Qigong and Taiji forms, we will stop and hold a position. At that moment I can feel the latent power of Zhan Zhuang waiting to express, and concurrently to speak, to teach. Sharing that feeling is hard, because one can only feel it to understand it.

I did not begin my Taiji training with this knowledge, waiting for it to manifest. Rather, it just happened. Eventually, I caught on and started to listen. Of course, mindfulness, openness, and equanimity are essential for this type of listening. We need to be present, to reside in our bodies, and to receive the message(es) with discernment.

A further, and perhaps easier to understand nonverbal attribute is the listening of push hands. In this case we are still listening to our own bodies. In fact, for martial competence it is crucial that we listen to our own bodies in any partner practices. But, in following the tenets of push hands practice, we are also listening to our partners. The goals of this listening are manifold. We are listening for advantage, or for understanding those with whom we are engaged; we are listening so that we can instruct our partners, or others; and we are listening so that we can nurture our training partners as we nurture ourselves. None of these goals are obtainable without listening to the nonverbal attribute of push hands.

Considering the nonverbal attributes of Taiji broadens our practice. Further, it offers depth. And it opens the possibilities for knowledge way beyond what we may have thought possible. That is a good thing--the way it should be.

What is Enlightenment?

2010-11-24T05:51:00.000-08:00

Below is an article by Buddhist teacher and author Jack Kornfield on the many varieties of enlightenment. Original article here.

ENLIGHTENMENTS
By Jack Kornfield
On a meditation retreat several years ago, late one evening after the Dharma talk, a woman raised her hand and asked one last question: “Is enlightenment just a myth?” When we teachers went back to our evening meeting, we asked each other this question. We exchanged stories about the creative freedom of Ajahn Chah, the enormous field of metta around Dipa Ma, the joyous laughter of Poonja, and of our own awakenings. Of course there is enlightenment.
But the word enlightenment is used in different ways, and that can be confusing. Is Zen, Tibetan, Hindu or Theravada enlightenment the same? What is the difference between an enlightenment experience and full enlightenment? What do enlightened people look like?

APPROACHES TO ENLIGHTENMENT
Early on in my practice in Asia, I was forced to deal with these questions quite directly. My teachers, Ajahn Chah in Thailand and Mahasi Sayadaw in Burma, were both considered among the most enlightened masters of Theravada Buddhism. While they both described the goal of practice as free-dom from greed, hatred and delusion, they didn’t agree about how to attain enlightenment, nor how it is experienced. I started my monastic training practicing in community with Ajahn Chah. Then I went to study in a monastery of Mahasi Sayadaw, where the path of liberation focuses entirely on long silent meditation retreats.
In the Mahasi system, you sit and walk for weeks in the retreat context and continuously note the arising of breath, thought, feelings and sensations over and over until the mindfulness is so refined there is nothing but instantaneous arising and passing. You pass through stages of luminosity, joy, fear and the dissolution of all you took to be solid. The mind becomes unmoving, resting in a place of stillness and equanimity, transparent to all experience, thoughts and fears, longings and love. Out of this there comes a dropping away of identity with anything in this world, an opening to the unconditioned beyond mind and body; you enter into the stream of liberation. As taught by Mahasi Sayadaw, this first taste of stream-entry to enlightenment requires purification and strong concentration leading to an experience of cessation that begins to uproot greed, hatred and delusion.
When I returned to practice in Ajahn Chah’s community following more than a year of silent Mahasi retreat, I recounted all of these experiences—dissolving my body into light, profound insights into emptiness, hours of vast stillness and freedom. Ajahn Chah understood and appreciated them from his own deep wisdom. Then he smiled and said, “Well, something else to let go of.” His approach to enlightenment was not based on having any particular meditation experience, no matter how profound. As Ajahn Chah described them, meditative states are not important in themselves. Meditation is a way to quiet the mind so you can practice all day long wherever you are; see when there is grasping or aversion, clinging or suffering; and then let it go. What’s left is enlightenment, always found here and now, a release of identification with the changing conditions of the world, a resting in awareness. This involves a simple yet profound shift of identity from the myriad, ever-changing conditioned states to the unconditioned consciousness—the awareness which knows them all. In Ajahn Chah’s approach, release from entanglement in greed, hatred and delusion does not happen through retreat, concentration and cessation but from this profound shift in identity.
How can we understand these seemingly different approaches to enlightenment? The Buddhist texts contain some of the same contrasting descriptions. In many texts, nirvana is described in the language of negation, and as in the approach taught by Mahasi Sayadaw, enlightenment is presented as the end of suffering through the putting out of the fires of craving, the uprooting of all forms of clinging. The elimination of suffering is practiced by purification and concentration, by confronting the forces of greed and hate and overcoming them. When the Buddha was asked, “Do you teach annihilation? Is nirvana the end of things as we know them?” he responded, “I teach only one form of annihilation: the extinction of greed, the extinction of hatred, the extinction of delusion. This I call nirvana.”
There is in the texts, as well, a more positive way of understanding enlightenment. Here nirvana is described as the highest happiness; as peace, freedom, purity, stillness; and as the unconditioned, the timeless, the undying. In this understanding, as in Ajahn Chah’s approach, liberation comes through a shift of identity—a release from attachment to the changing conditions of the world, a resting in consciousness itself, the deathless.
In this understanding, liberation is a shift of identity from taking anything as “self.” Asked, “How is it that one is not to be seen by the king of death?” the Buddha responded, “For one who takes nothing whatsoever as I or me or mine, such a one is freed from the snares of the king of death.” In just this way, Ajahn Chah instructed us to rest in awareness and not identify with any experience as I or mine.
I found a similar practice in Bombay with Sri Nisargadatta, a master of Advaita. His teachings about enlightenment demanded a shift from identifying with any experience to resting in consciousness wherever you are. His focus was not about annihilation of greed and hate. In fact, when asked if he ever got impatient, Nisargadatta joyfully explained, “I see, hear and taste as you do, feel hunger and thirst; if lunch is not served on time, even impatience will arise. All this I perceive quite clearly, but somehow I am not in it. There is awareness of it all and a sense of immense distance. Impatience arises; hunger arises. Even when illness and death of this body arise, they have nothing to do with who I am.” This is enlightenment as a shift in identity.
So here we have different visions of enlightenment. On the one hand, we have the liberation from greed, hatred and delusion attained through powerful concentration and purification, emphasized by many masters from Mahasi and Sunlun Sayadaw to Rinzai Zen. On the other hand, we have the shift of identity reflected in the teachings of Ajahn Chah, Buddhadasa, Soto Zen and Dzogchen. And there are many other approaches; if you practice Pure Land Buddhism, which is the most widespread tradition in China, the approach to enlightenment involves devotion and surrender, being carried by the Buddha’s “grace.”
To understand these differences, it is wisest to speak of enlightenment with the plural s—as enlightenments. It’s the same way with God. There are so many forms: Jehovah, Allah, Brahma, Jesus, Kali and so forth. As soon as followers say they know the one true God, conflict arises. Similarly, if you speak of enlightenment as one thing, conflict arises and you miss the truth.
We know that the Buddha taught many different approaches to enlightenment, all as skillful means to release grasping of the limited sense of self and return to the inherent purity of consciousness. Similarly, we will discover that the teachings on enlightened consciousness include many dimensions. When you actually experience consciousness free of identification with changing conditions, liberated from greed and hate, you find it multifaceted, like a mandala or a jewel, a crystal with many sides. Through one facet, the enlightened heart shines as luminous clarity, through another as perfect peace, through another as boundless compassion. Consciousness is timeless, ever-present, completely empty and full of all things. But when a teacher or tradition emphasizes only one of these qualities over the others, it is easy to be confused, as if true enlightenment can be tasted in only one way. Like the particle-and-wave nature of light, enlightenment consciousness is experienced in a myriad of beautiful ways.

GATEWAYS TO ENLIGHTENMENT
So what practices lead to these enlightenments? Most centrally, Buddhism uses the liberating practices of mindfulness and lovingkindness. These are supported by the practice of virtue, which frees us from being caught in reactive energies that would cause harm to ourself or others. Added to this are practices of composure, or concentration, where we learn to quiet the mind; and practices of wisdom, which can see clearly how all things arise and pass, how they cannot be possessed. Through these practices come purification and healing and the arising of profound compassion. Gradually, there is a shift of identity from being the person who is caught in suffering, to liberation. Releasing the sense of self and all the changing conditions of the world brings stream-entry, the first stage of enlightenment.
The most common gates to stream-entry in the Theravada tradition are the gateway of impermanence, the gateway of suffering and the gateway of selflessness. When we open through the gateway of impermanence, we see more and more deeply how every experience is born and dies, how every moment is new. In one monastery where I practiced, we were trained to experience how all of life is vibration. Through long hours of refined concentration, we came to sense all the sounds and sights, the breath, the procession of thoughts—everything we took to be ourself—as a field of changing energy. Experience shimmered, dissolving moment by moment. Then we shifted our attention from the vibrations to restin the spacious heart of awareness. I and other, inside and outside—everything dropped away and we came to know the vast stillness beyond all change. This is enlightenment through the gate of impermanence.
Sometimes we enter enlightenment through the gate of suffering. We sit in the fire of human experience, and instead of running from it, we awaken through it. In the Fire Sermon, the Buddha declares, “All is burning. The eye, the nose, the tongue, the body, the mind, the world is burning. With what is it burning? It is burning with the fires of greed, of hatred and of delusion.” Through the gate of suffering we face the fires of desire, hate, war, racism and fear. We open to dissatisfaction, grief and loss. We accept the inherent suffering in life and we are released. We discover that suffering is not “our” pain, it is “the” pain—the pain of the world. A profound dispassion arises, compassion fills the heart, and we find liberation.
My friend Salam, a Palestinian journalist and activist, passed through the gate of suffering when brutally beaten in Israeli prisons. This kind of suffering happens on every side in war. When I first met Salam in San Francisco, he was being honored for his hospice service. I asked him what brought him to this work. “One time I died,” Salam told me. Kicked by a guard, he lay on the floor of the jail with blood coming out of his mouth, and his consciousness floated out of his body. Suddenly, he felt so peaceful—a kind of bliss—as he saw he wasn’t that body. “I was so much more: I was the boot and the guard, the goat calling outside the walls of the police station. I was all of it,” Salam told me. “When I got out of jail, I couldn’t take sides anymore. I married a Jewish woman and had Jewish-Palestinian children. That is my answer.” Salam explains, “Now I sit with people who are dying because they are afraid and I can hold their hands and reassure them that it’s perfectly safe.” He awakened through the gate of suffering.
Sometimes we awaken through the gate of selflessness. The experience of selflessness can happen in the simplest ways. In walking meditation, we notice with every step the unbidden arising of thoughts, feelings, sensations, only to observe them disappear. To whom do they belong? Where do they go? Back into the void, which is where yesterday went, as well as our childhood, Socrates, Genghis Khan and the builders of the pyramids.
As we let go of clinging, we feel the tentative selflessness of things. Sometimes boundaries dissolve, and we can’t separate ourself from the plum tree, the birdsong or the morning traffic. The whole sense of self becomes empty experience arising in consciousness. More and more deeply, we realize the joy of “no self, no problem.” We taste enlightenment through the gate of selflessness and emptiness.
There are many other gates: the gates of compassion, of purity, of surrender, of love. There is also what is called the “gateless gate.” One teacher describes it this way: “I would go for months of retreat training, and nothing spectacular would happen, no great experiences. Yet somehow everything changed. What most transformed me were the endless hours of mindfulness and compassion, giving a caring attention to what I was doing. I discovered how I automatically tighten and grasp, and with that realization I started to let go, to open to an appreciation of whatever was present. I found an ease. I gave up striving. I became less serious, less concerned with myself. My kindness deepened. I experienced a profound freedom, simply the fruit of being present over and over.” This was her gateless gate.

EXPRESSIONS OF ENLIGHTENMENT
Whatever our gate to enlightenment, the first real taste, stream-entry, is followed by many more tastes as we learn to stabilize, deepen and embody this wisdom in our own unique life. What does it look like? The facets of enlightenment express themselves marvelously in our teachers. Each manifests enlightenment with his or her own flavors.
Dipa Ma, a wonderful grandmother in Calcutta, was one of the great masters of our tradition. A tiny person with a powerfully trained mind, Dipa Ma expressed enlightenment as love. She devotedly instructed her students in mindfulness and lovingkindness and then she hugged them—putting her hands on their head, face and shoulders, whispering metta phrases. They got drunk on love. Like Dipa Ma, Ammachi, a Hindu teacher from South India, manifests enlightenment as the “hugging guru.” She goes into a trance, and all night long she holds people; she might take as many as 2,000 people onto her lap and hug them. This is enlightenment as love.
For Zen Master Suzuki Roshi enlightenment was expressed by being just where you are. A woman told Suzuki Roshi she found it difficult to mix Zen practice with the demands of being a householder: “I feel I am trying to climb a ladder, but for every step upward I slip backward two steps.” “Forget the ladder,” Suzuki Roshi told her. “When you awaken, everything is right here on the ground.” He explained how the desire to gain anything means you miss the reality of the present. “When you realize the truth that everything changes and find your composure in it, there you find yourself in nirvana.” Asked further about enlightenment, Suzuki Roshi said, “Strictly speaking there are no enlightened beings; there is only enlightened activity.” If you think you are enlightened, that is not it. The goal is to let go of being anyone special and meet each moment with beginner’s mind.
Mahasi Sayadaw, the Burmese master, expressed enlightenment as emptiness. Watching him on his visits to America, we saw that he rarely laughed or judged. Instead, he exuded a quiet equanimity. Events and conversations would happen around him while he remained still. He was like space—transparent, nobody there. This is enlightenment as emptiness.
For Ajahn Jumnien, a Thai forest master, awakening is not only empty; it’s full. His robe is covered in hundreds of sacred medallions, and he employs dozens of skillful means to teach—guided meditations, sacred chants, mantras, chakra and energy practices, forest medicines, animal stories and shamanic rituals. His Dharma is all-hours, nonstop, full of life and joy. There’s a sense of abundance in him, and happiness just pours out like a fountain. He expresses enlightenment as fullness.
Thich Nhat Hanh expresses enlightenment as mindfulness. When he comes to teach at Spirit Rock, 3,000 people sit meditatively on the hillside and eat their apples mindfully in preparation for his arrival. A bell is rung, and he walks slowly and deliberately up the road—so mindfully that everyone sighs, “Ahhh.” The consciousness of 3,000 people is transformed just seeing this man walk, each step the whole universe. As we watch, we drop into the reality of the eternal present. This is where we awaken. Enlightenment as mindfulness.
The Dalai Lama expresses enlightenment as compassionate blessing. For instance, once at the end of his stay at a San Francisco hotel, he asked the management to bring out all the employees. This meant the people who chop vegetables in the kitchen, who clean the carpets late at night, who make the beds. The big circular driveway filled with all those who made this hotel work but who were usually unrecognized. One by one, he looked at each one with full presence, took each person’s hand, and said, “Thank you,” moving unhurriedly just to make sure that he connected with each one fully. The Dalai Lama personifies enlightenment as compassionate blessing.
Ajahn Chah’s manifestation was the laughter of wisdom. Whether with generals or ministers, farmers or cooks, he would say, “When I see how much people are struggling, I look at them with great sympathy and ask, ‘Are you suffering? Ahhh, you must be very attached. Why not let go?’” His teachings were deep and straight to the point. He’d say, “If you let go a little, you’ll be a little happy. If you let go a lot, you’ll be a lot happy. If you let go completely, you’ll be completely happy.” He saw suffering, its cause, and that freedom is possible in any moment. He expressed enlightenment as wisdom.
When people read these stories, they might ask, “How do they relate to me? I want these enlightenments. How do I get them? What should I do?” The jewel of enlightenment invites us to awaken through many skillful means. Mahasi Sayadaw would say, “To find emptiness, note every single moment until what you think to be the world dissolves, and you will come to know freedom.” Ajahn Chah would say, “Just let go, and become the awareness, be the one who knows.” Dipa Ma would say, “Love no matter what.” Thich Nhat Hanh would say, “Rest in mindfulness, this moment, the eternal present.” Ajahn Jumnien would say, “Be happy for no cause.” Suzuki Roshi would say, “Just be exactly where you are. Instead of waiting for the bus, realize you are on the bus.”
So, is enlightenment a myth? No. It is not far away. It is freedom here and now, to be tasted whenever you open to it. In my role as a teacher, I have the privilege of seeing the blessing of enlightenments awaken in so many meditators who come to Dharma practice and become transformed through its many expressions. As their initial tension and struggle with life, doubt and distress subsides, I watch their bodies ease, their faces soften, their Dharma vision open, their hearts blossom. Some touch what Buddhadasa called “everyday nirvana.” Others come to know a deep purity of mind and to experience a taste of liberation directly.
The Buddha declares, “If it were not possible to free the heart from entanglement, I would not teach you to do so. Just because it is possible to free the heart, there arise the teachings of the Dharma of liberation, offered openhandedly for the welfare of all beings.”
Aim for nothing less.

Jack Kornfield trained as a Buddhist monk in the monasteries of Thailand, India and Burma. He has taught meditation internationally since 1974 and is a founding teacher of the Insight Meditation Society and Spirit Rock Meditation Center. He is author of many books, including the new title The Buddha Is Still Teaching.
© 2010 Inquiring Mind

The Gift of Small Frame

2010-09-19T10:59:00.000-07:00

At the WTBA USA Workshop, earlier this year, I was properly introduced to the small frame version of Yang Taiji by Erle Montaigue. I have been working on it ever since, and I am finally beginning to glimpse the enormity of this gift. I have a long way to go with this, and it is one of my Winter training goals. But even the small breakthrough that I have witnessed is powerful beyond description. And it is, like many internal practices, difficult to describe.

Being primarily a Chen-Hunyuan practitioner, my movements are big and expansive by design. When doing any of my forms, the martial intent is clear in my mind. The moves should be crisp and the intention clear and unambiguous to an outside observer. That is how it should be. However, over time the Taiji practitioner should concentrate more the internal movement and less on the external. As that happens the moves aren't so clear and unambiguous to the outside observer. But they are extremely powerful and moving to the practitioner. Many of us have witnessed a Master performing his form and wondered why it seemed so vague and indirect. That is because his intention was internal and the external movement is a mere reflection of the internal action.

As I have progressed in my Taiji training I have often felt as if I am backing up. It seems the more I learn, the less I know. I feel as if I am in a constant state of 'just beginning'. This is a potent example of that. Doing form at the small frame level is an incredible tool for accumulating internal power. And it is incredibly difficult. However, even to the degree that I understand it and am able to practice it, it has been extremely rewarding. That, I guess, is the trade-off for being an eternal beginner. The thrill of newfound treasure is constantly recurring.

Chen Zhonghua and his Chen Style Taijiquan Practical Method

2010-09-17T11:40:00.000-07:00

Shang Lee has a wonderful blog entitled The Journey Within. He has interpreted a text written by Sun Zhonghua, a 19th generation Chen Style Master and a 2nd generation Hunyuan Style Master, on the Practical Method Chen Taiji of Chen Zhonghua. Not only do I recommend Shang's blog, but I highly recommend this article. It is a great introduction to a true Taiji Master.

The article, in 4 parts, can be found here.

"This is a translation and my interpretation of the text written by Sun Zhonghua. He is the 19^th generation master of Chen Style Taijiquan and a 2^nd generation master of Hunyuan Tai Ji. I hope I did it justice with my translation, and didn’t lose the spirit he is trying to convey. I have to split it in parts as this is a long article and it’ll probably take me some time to translate. Also, I’m savouring the text. It’s great reading it the second time round. Hope you enjoy it. You can find the full text here if you can read Chinese. You can find other parts here: Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 |

Foreword:

People train in martial arts for a variety of reasons, but if there is someone who is in love with martial arts to the point of addiction, this must be caused by a rare gene in his DNA. The evolution of this gene would most likely come from hunting and the battles that the previous generations have to fight, where those instincts are then secretly passed on to these “martial art addicts”. History has shown that even with the ban on martial arts or the downplay of martial arts to give way to a more “civilized” way of learning, all did not manage to suppress this rare gene from being passed down through the generations.

There are plenty of different martial arts, and Tai Ji Quan is one of them. It has a rich content, focusing both on health and self-defense. All you need to train in Tai Ji is a bit of space. There are no special requirements on how tall you are or how heavy you are. Because of this lack of special requirements, there are now plenty of people choosing this over other forms of martial art, one estimate of practitioners numbering 200 million people!

Now that the benefits of health and general well-being is being recognized in Tai Ji, the application and self-defense part of Tai Ji is largely neglected. There is nothing wrong with this being a personal choice, but do not think that your personal choice of ignoring Tai Ji applications makes what you are learning is Tai Ji. By removing applications from Tai Ji, Tai Ji becomes fake Tai Ji, it losses its intrinsic nature. Just like how you would say that a dance is not a dance because it doesn’t look like dancing. Moreover, if you don’t understand the application, the external movements will be wrong. This can only lead to one conclusion – we are not inheriting and passing on Tai Ji as a complete cultural artifact, instead we are stripping the spirit of Tai Ji from the art, mutating it, and allowing it to be passed on only in name. I’m not trying to be an alarmist, but this inevitable outcome has given me sleepless nights. Whenever I am giving a talk, I always urge my audiences, “To pass on and expand on the real Tai Ji, anyone who is interested and has the necessary conditions to learn the martial aspects of Tai Ji, please devote as much time and effort into it as you can.”

Continued in Part 2…"

Taiji is Qigong is not Taiji

2010-08-30T14:11:00.000-07:00

I am often faced with the question, 'What is the difference between Tai Chi and Qigong?' It should be a simple question with a simple answer, something like, 'Taiji is a complete martial art; Qigong is an art within itself, and a component of Taiji.' However, thanks primarily to a long history of misinformation, and dilution of the art, there are lots of things that are taught as Taiji, that are more properly Qigong, and sometimes not even that. I am personally a big fan of Qigong. I often only practice Qigong in my personal sessions, and recommend that everyone who practices these arts spends ample time with the nurturing of Qigong. However, Taiji and Qigong are not the same thing. Trying to equate them only does a disservice to us all.

As noted above, Qigong is a component of Taiji, a crucial component, without which Taiji would be just another martial art. Many of the principles of Taiji are shared with the art of Qigong. In fact one could easily practice Qigong and not ever practice Taiji, and many, many folks do. But one can't properly practice Taiji without practicing Qigong. Qigong is the underlying essence of Taiji. However, there is much more to Taiji than what is found in the practice of Qigong. Taiji is a complete martial art with forms based on combat applications, two-person exercises and drills, and at a certain level should be taught complete with Chin Na, Dim Mak, combat throws, and other martial exercises such as San Shou, Sticky Hands, weapons, and other self defense components.

As is obvious from the above, it's the martial aspect of Taiji that differentiates it. But that does not make Taiji any less of a healing art that Qigong. Quite the contrary. There is much healing energy to be found in Taiji forms. Most forms work to activate the twelve meridians. At a certain level the practitioner should be generating movement from the dantien, which works to circulate Qi throughout the body. And in some systems we learn the forms at the small frame level, which is concerned with internal movement. These movements are small and subtle to the observer, but internally powerful and stimulating to the practitioner. There is also healing energy exchanged in partner exercises, and a general sharing of energy in group form work. But the key in any Taiji system is keeping to Taiji principles. The people who developed this art were extremely intelligent and informed. There are many things happening at any one time in the execution of Taiji.

I often see where some people try to differentiate between "Tai Chi for Health" and "Martial Taijiquan". I don't agree with that approach, nor think it is necessary. The practice of Taiji, in it's entirety, as a complete martial art, as it was intended to be practiced, is a healing art. There is no need to water it down, and create other categories. That does not mean that sixty eight year old grandmothers should be expected to make some of the kicks in the Chen system, or play heavy push hands like twenty-somethings. Everyone can and should learn and practice within their limitations and abilities. But sixty eight year old grandmothers can still do demanding forms, play push hands, and learn the components of self defense as long as the teacher works with them at their level (as one should with any and all students). However, on that note, I will acknowledge there are people who have no interest in martial arts, nor many of the other components of Taiji who can and still want to benefit from the healing capacity of Taiji. We already have an art for them. It's called Qigong. And yes, you can even add parts of the Taiji form, or complete forms, to your Qigong practices. That's OK. Taiji form is Qigong (among other things). I not only practice Qigong in and of itself, I teach it and recommend it to anyone with or without health challenges.

Many people, maybe most people, are drawn to Taiji for health reasons. I know I was. And that is as it should be, I suppose. In my case, I am a big supporter of Taiji for health. However, I practice Taiji as a martial art and reap the healing benefits at the same time. I also practice Qigong as Qigong. I realize that at some level this is only semantics, but I still think it is important. I think it is necessary that we keep our definitions correct for the sake of the art and for the future of the art. And maybe there is no short easy answer to the question after all.

Taking the Plunge

2010-08-04T09:26:00.000-07:00

After some time of indecision and general gnashing of teeth, I've made the decision to take the plunge and start teaching Taiji classes. So far it's off to a great start. I am offering two classes at two different locations in basic Chen Hunyuan Taiji. We are taking it slow and focusing a lot on Qigong and basic fundamentals to establish good practice. In keeping with the lineage, I am presenting Taiji as being composed of three basic components: Qigong, Taiji form, and Push-hands.

Specifically, Qigong includes static postures: sitting, lying, and standing meditation, and dynamic movements designed to build gong. For beginning classes, I am teaching a twelve movement short form distilled from the Hunyuan 48. In time I may add a form from another system, or move on to the 48.

I am introducing the concept of Push-hands right from the beginning. We are taking it slow to ensure everyone understands the concepts, but we are moving along in an integral fashion just the same. I am also peppering in little doses of self-defense concepts along the way. In time, I should be able to have balanced classes exploring traditional Taijiquan as it should be.

It is early to judge how effective this will be, but it is starting out to be quite fun. It is my intention to offer specific workshops in the future on Qigong, Push-hands, Self-defense, and various Neijia concepts depending on interests.

Once again, my Taiji world is expanding.

Notes from Taiji Camp: The Art of Smiling, The Science of Motown

2010-06-19T10:35:00.000-07:00

I just returned from Yang Yang's Summer Taiji Camp in Blowing Rock, NC. I feel obligated to report on my experiences, but after rummaging through my notes, scanning my poor memory, and buzzing around my home and office with this amazing residual energy, I'm not sure I'm up to relating the depth of my experience. I feel as if I have just had an amazing experience that is beyond words. But on the other hand, the core of that experience was being in the presence of a man who expertly takes the mysterious, the complicated, and the subtle and makes them not only understandable but easily within grasp of us all, regardless of our backgrounds or levels of experience. So in keeping with that spirit, I'll give it a shot.

Taiji Camp ranges over a six day period, Friday evening through Wednesday morning, with four full days and two partial days of training. I have been learning and practicing this system for six years now, but this is my first camp experience. It will not be my last.

"The lessons learned in Taiji are applicable to everyday life, and the way in which you live your life will affect your progress in the art." Yang Yang.

I arrived relatively early on Friday evening, so I had plenty of time to get settled, meet a few folks, and observe as everyone else came together. I noticed quite quickly the fraternal, or better, familial, atmosphere. I felt as if I were at a sort of family reunion. By breakfast of the next day I already felt a part of the family. It was quickly apparent to me that this was going to be more than a couple of days of martial arts training. I was in the presence of people close to one another, who shared not only a lineage, but a philosophy, an approach not only to the martial arts or to health maintenance, but to life in general and the world at large. That is the kind of art this is. It is more than what you do; it becomes a part of who you are: a living art in the literal sense.

"The change of hardness and softness does not happen just on the physical level. It is more important for a student to apply this principle with Yi." Feng Qhiqiang.

Chen-Style Xinyi Hunyuan Taiji was created by Grandmaster Feng Zhiqiang, a synthesis of Xinyi Liuhe Quan, Qigong, and Chen-Style Taiji. As noted on Grandmaster Feng's website, the fundamental principal of Hunyuan Taiji is that "while designed for health and self-defense, it focuses on health; while alternating movements with stillness, it emphasizes stillness; and while simultaneously training the internal and the external, it gives priority to the internal". While this may seem an odd or obscure approach to those outside the system, it is in fact a very efficient and effective approach to Taijiquan. And understanding that statement is the key to understanding Dr. Yang's approach and the experience of his Summer Taiji Camp. Giving priority to the internal and to stillness leads to effective movement, health, and martial ability.

"I'm not afraid of someone who does a thousand forms; I'm concerned with the person that knows one form very well." Traditional Chinese Martial Arts Saying.

The thing that makes Master Yang stand out is his ability to expand one's knowledge of Taiji through simplification. He breaks down the form to its most fundamental elements so that it is easy to comprehend the intention, but he never compromises the original Taiji principles. Once you understand the intention and the underlying principles, you understand the form; Taiji becomes accessible. Additionally, and what I found to be most impressive, he demystifies the sayings we have all heard or read in the classics but find obscure and ambiguous. Concepts like "nurturing true power in Wuji"; "Move the Qi with Yi"; "Executing movement with your Dantien"; "Nurturing your partner through Push Hands". While this may be obscure on the pages of a book, it all comes out and is clarified through Yang's training regimen.

"If you practice brute strength it will break, if you practice Qi it will be stiff, if you practice Yi it will flow smoothly." Traditional Chinese Martial Arts Saying.

Each day of camp began with Wuji standing meditation, Qigong and sitting meditation, and each day ended with sitting meditation. During the day we alternated between form practice, push hands, and lying Qigong. Lying Qigong, a variation of Wuji, is more than a mid-training excuse for lying down or taking a nap. It is a subtle, active, relaxing, and extremely beneficial Qigong practice. Not only does Lying Qigong lead to relaxation, it is training in moving Qi through the body with Yi, intention. In fact, the concept of giving priority to the internal is more than philosophy with Dr. Yang, it is the practice. The majority of questions on form, application, or push hands addressed to Dr. Yang over the camp were referred back to Wuji. It appears the answer to most Taiji questions are ultimately found in Qigong. The classical conception of Taijiquan has it that Wuji is the mother of Taiji. Again, with Dr. Yang these are more than mere words, they are the rule of efficient practice. If your form or push hands are lacking, you should check your Standing Pole or San Ti stance. But this philosophy could lead one to wonder. The foundation of most martial arts practice is technique, and the rule of efficient practice in many systems is constant repetition of technique and fighting skills. Not so with Taiji, at least in the Hunyuan lineage. So, how does that work?

"Thus the external becomes concentrated in the internal, and the internal expresses itself externally." The Yang Family Forty Chapters.

I once, quite absentmindedly, parked my truck on a slight hill in neutral, and forgot to pull the parking brake. As I got out and began to walk away I noticed it beginning to roll ever so slightly. In keeping with my absentminded nature on that particular day I went to the front of the truck to stop it from moving. Since the decline was slight and it barely moved before I caught it, I was able to stop the motion quite easily. I soon realized my folly and went around and opened the door, jumped in, and pulled the brake. But that's not my point. My point is that for a brief moment I held the truck in place. As I noted, the decline was slight and it's a small Toyota truck, so there was no real danger. But standing there holding the front of that truck I could feel the potential energy. The Earth, in its rotation around the Sun, creates a gravitational pull that worked on the weight of my truck. Left alone, given the slope of that decline, my little truck would have accelerated to the point that should I again put my hands on the front I would have experienced much more than potential energy. I would have been victim to actualized energy, derived from the forces of nature, enough to roll over me, or move me off my spot. This potential energy that I felt on my truck that day is the same energy I felt whenever I played push hands with any of Master Yang's senior students. It is there, it exists. And when I, as I will often foolishly do, pushed a little too much into that potential, it quite quickly became actualized, in a fraction of a second, and moved me off my spot. Every senior student that I played push hands with expressed this same energy, regardless of age, gender, physical size. With every one I felt the same thing: potential, natural energy not unlike what I felt on the hood of my truck. In the case of Master Yang, to paraphrase one of those same senior students, it's like laying hands on a nuclear reactor. But here is the key to the whole system: this power is not accumulated through hour upon hour of push hands, fa jin, or sparring practice each week. Quite the opposite, it is accumulated through Wuji and Qigong, giving priority to the internal. Of course a certain amount of time is necessary for martial training in any system. But in keeping with Dr. Yang's training regimen, giving ultimate priority to Wuji and nurture leads to an unbelievable store of energy, ensuring much martial power if and when needed, a healthy body, and an awakened nature.

"Whoa-oa-oa! I feel good, I knew that I would, now..." James Brown

Still, I knew there was a secret to Dr. Yang's Taiji; a trick of sorts. There is always a secret. And I found Yang's. It's the smile. Dr. Yang is always smiling. It appears he is always happy. And it's contagious, because everybody else was always smiling too, including me. I can honestly say this was six days of the most fun I've had in a long time. But just in case, just to ensure that everybody kept on smiling, Dr. Yang pulled out another secret trick. At the end of each training day, before supper, when everybody's legs were turning to Jello from all the Taiji form, and everybody's minds were turning to mush from trying to remember all the new moves, and everybody's backs were turning into Rice Krispies from all the push hands, when enough is enough, Dr, Yang breaks out the boom box, puts on some classic Motown, and everybody dances. Yes, everybody. Even if you are physically, mentally, and spiritually exhausted, James Brown has a way of making it all better. By the time the song is over, everyone has a great big smile and is ready for more. It just doesn't get any better.

(1) All quotes taken from Taijiquan: The Art of Nurturing, The Science of Power. Yang Yang; 2005; Zhenwu, Publications, except the last which is taken from the song I Got You (I Feel Good) by James Brown, King Records, 1965.

Book Review: Taijiquan: The Art of Nurturing, The Science of Power

2010-05-31T14:01:00.000-07:00

In preparation for Yang Yang's Summer Taiji Camp, I decided to re-read his book, Taijiquan: The Art of Nurturing, The Science of Power. It is a good read for someone interested in the complete art of Taiji. By complete art, I mean not just bits and pieces, as is often the case, at least in the West. According to Yang, Taiji is a martial art, a healing art, a spiritual practice, and a physical regimen. Yang, a disciple of Grandmaster Feng Zhiqiang, finds it odd that there is even a discussion in America as to whether Taiji is a healing or a martial art. The practice of Taijiquan, if one follows a complete curriculum, leads to martial skill and good health concurrently. Attempting to separate the two leads to something that is not balanced, and not Taijiquan.

For Yang, Taiji has three integral components: Qigong; Taiji Form; Push Hands. Of course there is much to each of these individual categories, but they do form the basis of correct Taiji practice. In the Chen Hunyuan System, which Yang teaches, Qigong includes moving and static practices. Of these, the static practices are the most important in building gong, the foundation of Taiji. Static Qigong is basically sitting and standing Wuji meditation. Form of course varies depending on the school, or style one is practicing, but should be composed of the eight forces and five steps noted in the classics, and typical of all Taijiquan. The Taiji form is moving, choreographed Qigong, and it is key to combat applications. Finally, Yang covers push hands. For Yang, push hands is a training tool. It is a tool for learning to fight efficiently--among other things--but it is not fighting. Push hands is a very important partner exercise, and done correctly benefits each partner. Push hands was not intended to be a competitive venture. Yang does not broach this subject here, but the implication is clear.

For Yang, as with Grandmaster Feng, nurturing is primary in the art of Taijiquan. We begin by nurturing ourselves, through meditation and Qigong exercises, which builds gong and provides us with the foundation necessary to practice Taiji. In push hands practice we nurture ourselves and our training partners. There is much to this concept of nurture as an indispensable component of Taiji practice. To be able to function at our highest level, we must attend to our basic needs first. Everything else follows from there. Early in the book Yang quotes the classical Song of Real Meaning to make his point: "With your whole being, develop your life"(1). That kind of says it all.

Most important for Western readers, Yang demystifies Taijiquan and presents hard solid scientific evidence for what is and is not possible. Yang has a Phd. in Kinesiology, and wrote his dissertation on the practical benefits of Taiji practice. There is no magic or superpowers implicit here, no throwing anyone across the room with intention only, or some mysterious Qi power. This is the art we experience explained in a logical fashion that makes a lot of sense. He does not devote a lot of time to the martial application of Taijiquan, but he doesn't overlook it or disregard it either. All-in-all it is a balanced explication.

I realize this is a short summary of an excellent book. But better than reading my review, buy the book. I highly recommend it for any serious practitioner of Taijiquan, regardless of style. It presents a complete holistic view of this wonderful art in a sane no-nonsense manner.

(1) Taijiquan: The Art of Nurturing, The Science of Power. Yang Yang; 2005; Zhenwu Publications.

Reflections on the 2010 WTBA USA East Coast Workshop

2010-05-15T10:24:00.000-07:00

I attended the 2010 WTBA Workshop in Salisbury, MD. May 8th and 9th. It was amazing, to say the least. I should note this was billed as the WTBA USA Workshop. I prefer to refer to it as the East Coast Workshop because Eli Montaigue will be presenting another workshop in Montana in September of this year.

The workshop was very well attended. There were several students and assorted martial artists from across the globe. In addition to WTBA founder, Erle Montaigue, his son and current head of the WTBA, Eli Montaigue was there; UK Chief Instructor, Nasser Butt; USA Chief Instructor, Al Krych; Canada Chief Instructor, Josephine Anderson; and Workshop host and Maryland WTBA Representative, Brian Alexander. I must say I have never been in the presence of so many talented martial artists at one time. There was no shortage of high caliber instruction and competent assistance.

This was my first workshop with Erle; in fact it was my first WTBA event ever, as there are no active WTBA groups in my immediate area--yet. My exposure to this system has been via books and videos to this point. Apparently the turnout was so great that this is now going to become an annual event. Needless to say I am already planning on next year's event.

The focus of this workshop was the Yang Lu'chan form, or Old Yang form, at the small frame level; The River, a Wudang Dim Mak Cornerstone Form; and Combat Push Hands. Although the majority of the information was new to me, the most challenging aspect was the small frame approach to the form. I learned the first third of this from via video, but not at this level. The movements of small frame are subtle and all but incomprehensible to the observer. We did not spend as much time with this as Erle had intended, or as I personally would have liked. But it was enough to pique my interest. I definitely see this as a future challenge, an addition to my ever-expanding list.

The Wudang Dim Mak Cornerstone forms are predecessors to Taiji and Bagua, but contain noticeable elements of each and lots of Fa Jin. As I have been practicing a Chen style for some time now, Fa Jin is not foreign to me, and not as challenging as it is to some contemporary Yang stylists. This, for me, is one of the more comfortable things about this system. Legend has it that Yang Lu'chan learned Taiji from the Chen family (or along with the Chen family, if you prefer that version). So it follows that his Taiji would be more similar to Chen style than the contemporary Yang versions that dominate the Taiji world. I have always found the contemporary Yang system to be awkward and lacking, thus my attraction to Chen. This system does not have that awkward feel--for many reasons. Although the Wudang forms predate Taiji, and are not a part of Yang-style Taiji, per se, they are a part of the WTBA curriculum. There are four forms, each representing a natural element. We learned The River or Water Form, complete. This is a good fighting form. I like it--a lot. We went over it enough that I retained all the basic moves in memory. Erle has added an overview/outline of the form to his website, which helps to clarify. I will have to work on this for some time to polish it and get it right, but it has definitely become a part of my regular practice.

The WTBA version of Combat Push Hands is also new to me, but not so totally foreign that I had trouble comprehending the intention. It is beyond a doubt a different approach to push hands than I am accustomed to, but the fundamentals are there. I have already shared this with my regular Taiji group and we are integrating it into our training routine. Push Hands is an important practice to me and this system gives me another level of approach. Compared to most common styles of Push Hands, WTBA Push Hands is more direct, faster, and closer to free fighting than most approaches. With the free-style Push Hands that I am accustomed to it is easy to enter and transition to grappling. This is a noticeable trait in Chen Village Push Hands. With the WTBA system, any such attempt at entering should be cut off with a strike. Of course that limits the strategies, but makes those available all the more potent. Again, I am impressed. This system will not supersede my other training methods, but it will be a potent addition.

In summary, I have found a new training regiment. Since injuring my leg in Aikido a few months back, I have not been doing any cross-training. I decided after that accident to focus my training on Taiji. Now I have found an acceptable cross-training system. I will be integrating the WTBA system into my existing--primarily Chen Hunyuan--system. Hopefully I will be able to get together with some of the other workshop attendees for training before next year's event. In any case, I have much new material with which to work, and new challenges to address. My Taiji world has expanded.

Taiji and Grappling

2010-04-20T15:51:00.000-07:00

Where does Grappling fit in with today's Taiji?

I was going to explore the question, 'Is there a place for grappling in Taiji?' But before I could write the first word I was reminded of all the places where grappling is found throughout Taiji. A breakdown of the Chen forms reveals numerous throws and locks. And a recently televised Chen Taijiquan tournament, shows the reliance on grappling in sport applications. In fact, the concept of zou found in the Taiji Classics, is translated as "overcoming the strong and the hard by the gentle and soft way"(1), which is the same as Ju in Japanese, as in The Gentle Way: Judo, or The Gentle Art: Jujitsu. So there is indeed much of grappling in Taiji.

This shouldn't come as a surprise. Taijiquan is a complete martial art. It has kicks, punches, Dim Mak, grappling, chokes, Chin Na. It was devised as a method of self defense for life and death situations. We often see explications of punches, kicks and armbars taken out of the form. But we rarely--at least in the West--see much instruction or discussion of the grappling side of Taijiquan. Some highly noted exceptions are Erle Montaigue, who addresses grappling, as well as any other conceivable martial application in his teachings; and Tim Cartmell, who integrates Brazilian Jiu Jitsu with his Tai Chi curriculum.

I want to emphasize that I am exploring the relationship between grappling and Taiji. There is a lot I don't know. As always, I welcome comments and insight into this subject. Because I have studied Japanese grappling arts and Taiji, I have an interest in the relationship between the two, historically and practically. I believe there is much martial benefit to be gained from grappling in a controlled and rule-based situation, as one would find in a dojo. Besides being a good aerobic workout, it teaches one how to move, relax, breathe, and anticipate the actions and reactions of one's partner. If done correctly it is a good way to spar using full energy in a relatively safe manner. However, if we keep within the boundaries of Taiji, I can see how it is easy to transition from disciplined movement to all-out wrestling, which at some point is no longer Taiji.

It is my understanding that the creators of Taijiquan preferred to not go to the ground. It is of course preferable to send one's attacker there, just be sure and not join him. There is much wisdom in that. To that end, I think Taiji throws and Chin Na should be drilled so that practitioners know how and when to use them effectively. In a life-threatening situation Dim Mak is generally in order. But there are times when control techniques are appropriate. And there is always the very real possibility that anyone could be attacked and find themselves on the ground with their attacker. Again, knowledge of Dim Mak is valuable in life threatening situations, but for the occasional drunk or unruly brother-in-law, knowing a little groundwork could be valuable.

I guess in the final analysis it all boils down to what the individual Taiji player wishes to do. As I have noted before, there are numerous variations of this art. Looking at it historically and realistically, we should give grappling some deep consideration. Not only because it is part of the overall curriculum, but because it is practical for any and all martial artists.

(1) Jou, Tsung Hwa. The Dao of Taijiquan: Way to Rejuvenation. pp178.

Acceptable Ambiguity and Controlled Folly

2010-03-23T08:13:00.000-07:00

At the core of existence is chaos. The things we see and know in our lives appear to be solid, they appear to be the way we perceive them to be. But a closer examination, at the quantum level, reveals what appears to be a chaotic situation. At the quantum level things are not at all as solid and as rational as we think they are. Even though we don't live at the quantum level, we can't deny what science has discovered. And we should assume there is even more yet to our world than we apparently know. A close examination of the writings of Eastern mystics and seers reveals an intrinsic understanding of many of these principles, and indeed some of what rational Western minds have written off in the past, are now understandable in light of quantum science. Ultimately we can surmise the world is not the way it appears. After spending a certain amount of time practicing mindfulness and considering existence from a different perspective, a certain amount of acceptable ambiguity sets in. Things just no longer make sense in the traditional way, via rational science or popular religion. We get to a point where things can't be rationalized and explicated verbally. The world doesn't totally make sense, and that is totally acceptable. At this point we see the interconnectedness and relative unimportance of everything. We also find that discussing it with those who don't understand is useless, and with those who do unnecessary. And we see the folly in the world around us.

In A Separate Reality, Don Juan tries to explain this to Carlos, who of course insists on understanding things verbally. When I first read this book over thirty years ago I was fascinated with almost everything about it, but could understand very little of it in concrete terms. I suspended understanding so I could move on. Of course I still have to do that with much of subject matter, because I am not a Yaqui Brujo. I have not experienced all of the things Don Juan is trying to teach Castaneda, so I can't really understand it all. However, I have grown in my own weird way over the last thirty years, so a lot of what is covered in Castaneda's writings is understandable to me. Perhaps not in the way Don Juan intended, but through my own universalist perspective it resonates. It most definitely means more to me now than it did thirty years ago. Through my practices I have come to understand consciousness, energy, the Universe, and the interconnectedness of everything in a much different way than I did before. Most of these understandings did not come through analytical thought, or rhetorical explication alone. Reason and rhetoric played a part, but the clincher, the real understanding part has come through doing--or not doing; through experience, whether that experience be sitting meditation or exchanging energy with a martial arts partner. I know I've had the experiences, I know they taught me, I know what they taught me, but I can never explain so that another gets it the same way I did. The only way to learn at that level is through experience.

Don Juan also introduces the concept of controlled folly in A Separate Reality. As this acceptable ambiguity sets in, we realize that things have changed for us. We can't go on living the way we have before. Our minds may struggle with the tension between the new understanding and the old comfort, but our bodies know. We can no longer be content pretending things matter that we know in our hearts do not. Chief among the things that don't matter is convincing others. We can reach a place of live and let live. But we still live in the world. We may act on unimportant things anyway. We may need to go through the motions of social life to move along and live our lives in a strategic manner. We do this through controlled folly. We know it's ultimately folly, but it serves our larger purpose. The thing that does matter is living an intentional life, in a purposeful and strategic manner.

I write. That is what I do. Granted, it may be controlled folly but it is ultimately a part of my strategic life because I learn through my writing just as I learn through my Taiji form. The more I learn the more I progress. Ultimately I am only progressing to my death, but the knowledge of my death, in a bow of respect to Don Juan, is what tempers my life. Knowing that death is just over my left shoulder stalking me always, is the impetus for impeccability, my reason for following the way of the warrior. And that is why it matters, even though it doesn't.

Exploring Qigong V: Walking Qigong

2010-03-14T11:23:00.000-07:00

Walking Qigong is a very potent form for healing, and is one of the first Qigong methods I learned. Walking Qigong is fairly easy to do. It is good physical exercise, good moving meditation, and good inner alchemy induction. Like most things Qigong, there is no one way to do it. There are endless variations and approaches. But the reason this is a common situation in Qigong is that the combination of movement and mindful intention is the biggest part of the process. Granted there are specific forms and routines that excite and stimulate different meridians, and that address different physiological functions. But, in general, we are working with a peaceful present mind, a moving body, and a healing intention. So the best way to approach Walking Qigong is to do it. Of course one needs to attend to the Three Intentful Corrections, and practice slow and intentionally. But there is no need for arguing over minute details or the number of angels on the head of a pin.

The most famous method of Walking Qigong is Guo Lin Qigong, which was developed in the 1970's for healing cancer. This is a specific form and instruction is recommended for doing this form as intended. However, general Walking Qigong focuses on slow intentful walking. One should practice breathing in time with one's steps, so that one inhales on a right step (for example), and exhales on a left. At the same time the practitioner can move the arms in a rhythmic manner, keeping time with the steps and breathing. For example one can raise the left arm as the right foot steps, and make a big vertical circle as the step is completed. Then as the left foot begins to move forward, the right hand should be in motion to do the same thing on that side in time with the stepping and breathing. A possible variation would be to move both hands gently to the side on which the foot is stepping forward, as in the video above.

Walking Qigong, while a healing form, is a walking meditation. The practitioner should focus on the breath, relax, and perhaps incorporate a mantra or an affirmation. The result for the practitioner is a sense of peaceful wholeness. If one does the research, countless examples of healing and cancer recovery are linked to Qigong. It is possible that this one simple exercise contains the secret to health and longevity. I know I am a believer. It is and has been a part of my routine, and will continue to be.

Will the Real Taiji Players Please Stand?

2010-03-06T08:34:00.000-08:00

How many Taiji Players does it take to screw in a light bulb? One hundred. One to screw in the bulb and ninety nine to say, "that's not how we do it."

Let me get to my thesis right off the bat, with due respect and regards to my friends, associates, teachers, and mentors: There is no objective, real, true Taiji, to the exclusion of others.

Through the miracle that is the internet, we all have the opportunity to learn, teach, debate, and share knowledge. And overall I think that is great. However, through forums, and Facebook groups, and blogs, etc... we have all engaged in the "that's not how we do it" verbal exercise. I am as guilty as anyone. And I think that's OK, to a degree. We each need our own objective definition for our own version of Taiji. But like most things in this world, Taiji is subjective. That's what makes it such an interesting and appealing art. However, I think that once we step off into this idea that 'what I'm doing is real, and what you're doing is crap' we ultimately limit ourselves and a do a great disservice to Taijiquan.

Taijiquan is a potent, deadly, devastating Martial Art. At the same time it is a great choreographed from of Qigong, with unbelievable healing powers. It is a mindfulness practice as potent as sitting meditation. It is good overall exercise. It is a beautiful aesthetic art. And there are numerous other definitions that I'm not bringing to mind right now. For some of us, it is all of these things. For some it is only a few, or only one. That's OK. That's great. But if it is only one or a couple of these things for one, that doesn't nullify the other categories for other players.

There are some martial Taiji players whose art is as deadly and effective as any martial art on the face of the planet. At the same time, there are senior citizens doing simple, slow forms in the public parks and nursing homes of world who are proactively addressing their health and adding precious years to their lives. There are competition players, yes even MMA competitors, who add to their art through the practice of Taiji. At the same time there are spiritual-minded people who count Taiji as another meditation practice, another vehicle to Nirvana, or whatever their spiritual goal. The list goes on. And they are all Taiji players, and any and all of their Taiji is as real as any of the others.

I do think that there really are some practices that may be called Taiji that really aren't. But this is because they do not follow established Taiji principles and practices that follow across all forms styles and applications. The Classics are fairly clear on what constitutes Taijiquan. I don't want to go down that path in this entry. Suffice it to say for this post, if we are following the teachings of the Classics and the major schools it is Taiji. Yang Yang, whose system is my primary, has developed an eight movement form for senior citizens and new students based on the Chen Hunyuan System. It is a very simplified form and is extremely different than the original Chen forms. However, it is based on the thirteen movements: the eight forces (peng/lu/ji/an/lie/zhou/kao), and the five directions (advance, retreat, left, right, and central equilibrium). It is probably fair to say that most who learn and practice this art will never get to the point of doing San Shou, Double Push Hands, or Fajin. They may never use their Taiji as self defense, or even think about self defense at all. But that doesn't mean they aren't doing Taiji. At the same time, there are young Chen players whose advanced Push Hands is as potent as any Jujitsu, and whose sparring skills as skillful as any Karateka. But that doesn't mean they aren't doing Taiji either. It's just not the same Taiji as the folks at the nursing home, or in the park, or wherever.

As I said, I am as guilty of categorization and apparent exclusion as anyone. And for that I apologize to any who got the impression that I am coming from this point of view. I am not. I am just as happy playing hard push hands/sticky hands, San Shou, or grappling as I am doing the Yang short form and Zhan Zhuang in the park. For me Taijiquan is a martial art, a healing art, a vehicle for mindfulness, a tool for learning about myself, complete exercise, practical Taoism, self defense, etc... There are folks who practice in ways that I don't and use Taiji for things that I don't and may never. But I don't think their Taiji is any more or less real than mine. It's all Taiji and its all good.

My Interview on Meditation How

2010-03-02T14:33:00.000-08:00

Benjamin Dean, who has one of the neatest blogs on Zen Poetry at short-zen-poems.com, also has a blog on Meditation instruction. He just interviewed me for a series he is doing on different meditators and meditation styles. While I enjoyed the interview and am glad to contribute, I have to admit the conversation ended up drifting into unexpected areas. Such is the power of communication and vocalized thought.

Here is a link to the interview. Enjoy.

Exploring Qigong IV Continued: More on Standing.

2010-02-28T06:22:00.000-08:00

The following is an article by Afshin Mokhtari, an acupuncturist in San Mateo, CA. Afshin offered this as a reply to my last entry on Qigong and I am so impressed I want to share it on this space. This is a very concise explication on the art of standing. The complete article can be accessed on Afshin's website here. In fact, I recommend his website in general. There are some very good articles on Chinese Medicine and healthy lifestyle choices.

And, thanks Afshin!

How to do Standing Qigong

By AFSHIN | Published: JANUARY 29, 2010

In this article I introduce you to one of the most all-around beneficial exercises that you can do. It is a form of qi gong called Standing pole, or just “standing” practice. I’ll give you some background about why its so good for you, and tell you how you can start practicing today!

Standing practice (Zhan Zhuang in mandarin) benefits the whole body. It is effective for the treatment of illness and the development of overall health and fitness, suitable for people of all ages and physical constitution. It is a form of qi gong where the only movement is the natural movement of breathing. To an outsider it looks like you’re practicing to be a statue! Its not really physically demanding, but what makes it hard is cultivating the patience it takes be relaxed and content while doing it, and also the focus it takes to be actively maintaining good posture. It is a complete practice in itself, but also considered a foundational exercise for internal martial arts such as taiji (tai-chi). When done consistently over weeks and months, it provides something that no amount of muscularly oriented exercise can give. Speaking generally, standing practice develops relaxation, focus, and integrated body-mind awareness.

How does it work? From the Western physiological perspective, research has found that the benefits of qi gong come from its effect on the cerebral cortex. As life goes on and we’re faced with various stresses, our bodies build artificial actions and reflexes in response. Such tensions are not easy to get rid of and over time we unconsciously physically hold these stress patterns, to our own detriment. Qi gongs in general give the cerebral cortex a chance to relax and let the body-mind unwind from these chronic stress patterns. When you relax with good posture, all the internal organs settle while all metabolic functions increase, and then the body goes into healing mode.

Master Shou-Yu Liang doing his standing practice

From the traditional Chinese medical perspective, free and unobstructed flow of blood and qi around the body is one of the most important elements in the development and maintenance of health. Standing practice trains you to become conscious of the stress patterns you hold and to let them go, thus freeing up the flow. We achieve this with good posture, relaxed breathing, and a calm mind. Its much more than just a power-nap!

Sounds good… but how do we achieve these things? Learn the following guidelines, practice daily, and cultivate patience. The first time, just try it for 30 seconds. As the days go on, you should increase the time you spend. With consistent practice, you’ll start noticing your imbalances.

1. Stand with your feet a shoulder width apart, toes pointing forward, either parallel, or turned slightly outward.

2. Dont stand so straight that you’re locking your knees. Make sure they’re unlocked. Also do not get into a low martial arts horse-stance, you can be standing almost straight up; take a look at the picture above.

3. Let your hands hang loosely by your sides .

There are many standing practice variations where your hands & posture can be in a variety of positions. They’re harder and develop more than what we’re doing here, so for now just let them hang down. For reference, you can see the picture on the right of Mr.Chen Xiao Wang doing a version of standing endearingly referred to as tree-hugging.

4. drop your shoulders

Imagine that, like a puppet, your whole body is hanging, suspended from your head. A string holds your head from a point at the top of your skull, directly in line with the tips of your ears. Feel yourself sinking down, relaxing, as you hang from the string. But dont droop, you want to be relaxed, not limp.

5. Breathe calmly and naturally through the nose. There is no special breathing in this exercise. When relaxed, your breathing should be down in your belly instead of your chest.

6. Look forward and slightly downward, so that chin is not pushed forward

7. Release any tension in your neck. This takes time, at first see if you can tune in to it and you’ll learn how to relax it over time.

8. Relax your hips and belly. Again, relaxed but not limp. Very important also that your lower back is relaxed so that it expands and contracts a little as you breathe. Don’t try to force this, learn to unlock your back if its locked.

9. Straighten your spine, let the bottom of your spine unfold downward so that neither your belly nor your bottom is sticking out.

Different people have different challenges with respect to the above list. Over time you’ll find which problems you tend to exhibit.

A classic description of the posture you’re trying to achieve: “Your center lies 2-4 inches below your navel, one third of the way into your body. It is in line with the suspension point at the top of your head. From below your kneecaps, your roots extend downward. From your knees upward you rise like a tree, resting calmly between the earth and the sky. Your weight is evenly distributed between your left and right feet. These roots sink deep into the earth. The weight of your body rests in the middle of the soles of your feet.”

Rome was not built in a day, and like any skill, this qi gong requires practice and patience. Striving and straining for results will only bring disappointment and tension. This exercise is subtle, and it takes time for you to tune in to yourself. Do not practice when you are full of food, over-tired, over-hungry, or full of alcohol. Its best to pick a practice schedule and stick to it. Wear loose clothes and maybe warm up and stretch a little before, remember the goal is to relax.

During the early stages of practice, you may feel a number of physical reactions, some of them unpleasant! Your hands may tingle or get numb, you might have itches, pain, trembling, and so on. These are the body’s reactions to the unaccustomed use of muscles, physiological changes in metabolism and circulation, and tension release. You will especially start to notice imbalances between your right and left sides. Stay calm and persevere, shake out any tensions you build up. It takes time and some discomfort to work through your chronic tensions. But dont hurt yourself either – be careful if your knees or back start to hurt, these are clues that your posture is not good, make sure you’re not leaning.

Practice daily. Its better to do 5 minutes a day every day than trying to do half an hour once a week. Shoot for 10 minutes in the morning and evening by the end of your first month of practice. If your going to the bathroom schedule is not regular, you’ll find that consistent morning standing practice will help that! Afshin Mokhtari

Exploring Qigong IV: Stillness in Movement in Stillness

2010-02-21T12:22:00.000-08:00

Bu jing bu jian dong zhi qi

If you don't have quiet or tranquility, you will never see the miracle of moving.

While it is hard to categorize and compartmentalize something as fluid and recondite as Qigong, I will divide it into two categories, if for no other reason than to help better explain the various approaches. We can consider Qigong as being either static or moving. As we proceed I will explain my reservations in using these definitions.

Static Qigong is typically standing meditation and or seated meditation. There is an advanced practice of Wujigong that is lying Qigong, practiced flat of one's back. But for now we will consider sitting and standing practice. For some practitioners static Qigong is the totality of their practice. Zhan Zhuang, or standing meditation, is a key practice in Qigong and many internal martial arts. Zhan Zhuang can be conceptualized as the foundation of Qigong and Taiji. While standing we are to focus on body structure and alignment, breathing, and calming the mind--the Three Intentful Corrections. However, rather than proceeding from there into movement, the practice is to hold the posture and focus on the intention. Rather than performing movements that address, or direct Qi to where it is needed, Zhan Zhuang works to settle the mind and body and let the Qi settle where it is needed naturally. Zhan Zhuang is a very simple practice, and yet is extremely powerful, and more complex than it appears.

Sitting Qigong is much the same practice as Zhuan Zhuang, but is practiced in a sitting position. In addition to the mindfulness practice of sitting meditation, focus on reverse breathing and Qigong posture are emphasized as in standing and moving practices. Sitting Qigong can be practiced in a simple cross-legged position, lotus position, or seiza position. Any and all of these positions are beneficial practices and each has a structural component that is unique and has unique benefits.

Once the foundational practices, or Three Intentful Corrections are understood and implemented, movement can be approached. Static Qigong is Wuji practice. Wuji is the void, stillness. Once movement happens, Yin and Yang separate and Wuji becomes Taiji. However, if you look at the Taiji symbol, there is a little Yin in Yang, and a little Yang in Yin. Accordingly, there is always a little movement in stillness and stillness in movement. In fact, this is what we should aim for. And this is where my reservations lie in categorization. I consider Qigong to be both static and dynamic practice at all times. We are dynamic when we are static and static when dynamic. Even if we only practice static Qigong, there is movement. Our minds are active and Qi is moving through our bodies. If we begin and end our moving Qigong sessions with static practice we will transition from Wuji to Taiji and back to Wuji, therefore following Taoist cosmology. Eventually we find it is all the same. It's all Qigong.

Challenges for Now

2010-02-19T05:06:00.001-08:00

Rick at Cook Ding's Kitchen has issued his annual Lenten Challenge. Also, the good folks at The Magic Tortoise Taijiquan School have issued their 100 day challenge for the Chinese New Year. My Taiji school is informally participating in the 100 day challenge. The goal for the Lenten Challenge is to focus on something, not necessarily Martial Arts, but some skill, every day of Lent. The goal of the 100 day challenge is to find a seemingly unattainable goal and try to master it in 100 days.

I have committed to the 100 day challenge. By default, since the first half of the 100 days is Lent, I will be participating in both. My challenge is to finally learn, complete, the Er Lu, or Pao Cui--the second routine in the Chen tradition of Taijiquan. I have been slowly working on it, amongst several other things, for the last two years. I have gotten 2/3 of the way over two years. So I don't have a terrible amount to do. But on the other hand, it has taken me two years to get 2/3 down. I not only want to learn it, but I want to learn it with my body so that it comes naturally. So it is do-able, but still a challenge. The 100 day challenge asks that you reach your goal in 100 days. The Lenten Challenge asks that you practice every day of Lent. So as to keep with the Lenten challenge, I am going to try to work on this form every day till Easter. That will give me a big boost in the 100 day challenge. Pao Cui every day for 40 days. That is a challenge in itself, given the rest of life still happens all around me.

I recommend these challenges to any and all. It is a great way to focus and accomplish.

Exploring Qigong III: The Three Intentful Corrections

2010-02-04T12:31:00.000-08:00

The Three Intentful Corrections are the foundation of and starting point for Qigong practice. My inspiration and source for this entry is Roger Jahnke's The Healing Promise of Qi(1). My information is derived from Jahnke except where otherwise noted. If you haven't read this book and are in any way interested in Qigong, I highly recommend it. It is a prominent resident of my personal library, and I am rewarded every time I return to it. In it Jahnke quotes the basic and most important rule for practicing Qigong and Taiji: "Mind the body and the breath, and then clear the mind to distill the Heavenly elixir within." This single statement summarizes the whole complex practice of Qigong. It is all premised on the Three Intentful Corrections:

>Adjust and regulate the body posture and movement

>Adjust and regulate the breath

>Adjust and regulate consciousness

Posture

In the last entry we defined the four critical points in the body's geography: The Dantian and the Mingmen on the horizontal plane. The Ba Hui point on the top of our heads, and the Huiyin point directly opposite in the vertical plane. Proper Qigong posture works by aligning these points. Essentially what we want to do is straighten our spines by aligning the vertical axis. This is accomplished by what Grandmaster Cai Song Fang calls "the tuck and suck method"(2), wherein we suck in our bellies and expand our mingmen. We do this by sucking and tucking and tilting back our pelvis cavity. At the same time slightly tuck the chin so that is feels as if there is a string attached to the top of your head pulling you upwards. This action straightens out the normally swayed spine. Grandmaster Cai says there is a difference between the natural state of posture and the normal state of posture. In this case the natural is not the norm. The norm for most humans is the swayed back and pot belly. The muscle group associated with this is the iliopsos muscles. These are instrumental in walking and sexual activity. Consequently, the 'normal' posture for most people results in a situation of impaired iliopsoatic function and dysfunctional walking and sexual activity. The suck and tuck method, by tilting the pelvis back and straightening the spine, reverses the common posture of sway back with the guts spilling out the front and the buttocks sticking out the back. It thus restores functionality to the iliopsos, obdurator, and abdominal muscles which are intimately connected to the diaphragm and the breath. A good way to visualize this is to imagine the imaginary string pulling the top of your head up, and imagine the pelvic cavity to be a fruit bowl. Tip the bowl back to prevent anything from spilling out the front. At the same time imagine a line through your body from the top of your head down through the Huiyin point and into the ground. Consequently the horizontal line between the Dantian and the Mingmen will align naturally. This serves to align the three Dantians with heaven and earth, and makes room in the chest cavity for the lungs to operate with less pressure and/or obstruction, therefore making breathing easier.

Breath

Breath is the key to life. It is synonymous with the concept of Qi. It is the gateway to focus and the tool of mindfulness. It is the key to mastering Qigong. It is the easiest of the Three Intentful Corrections to adjust, because we are always breathing. We just may not always be aware of it. You can bring your awareness to your breath at any time. Breath serves as a mantra for meditation. In deep meditation our breath becomes very shallow, often to the point of seeming no breath at all. In Qigong breath serves the same mantric purpose, helping to focus the mind. But it is more. It also serves to move Qi and to relax the body. Breath brings health into the body and dispels toxins out. Many Qigong practices focus on an in-breath for one motion, followed by an out-breath for the next in a rhythmic pattern. At advanced levels we practice pre-natal, or reverse breathing. In reverse breathing the abdomen is contracted upon inhalation and expanded during exhalation. This is the way our bodies functioned when we were in the womb breathing through the umbilical cord. Normal breathing operates so that we expand our abdomen during inhalation,and contract in on the exhalation. Reverse breathing is very therapeutic on many levels. However, one should work with an experienced teacher when approaching this practice. On a basic level, all practitioners focus on their breath and use it to regulate their pace and to focus. As in meditation, focusing on the breath in Qigong makes it easier to adjust and regulate the consciousness.

Consciousness

Qigong is a form of meditation. Static, orWuji Qigong is meditation. Dynamic Qigong and Taiji are moving meditations. The same rules of mediation apply to Qigong. The more focused the mind, the deeper the experience. A focused Qigong mind is open to healing and enlightenment. Jahnke defines three states of Qigong mind: Conditioned Mind; Focused Mind; Clarified Mind. Conditioned mind is the everyday, distracted, monkey mind we live with for most of our existence. By managing what the mind is doing, focusing on the breath and the body, and ignoring monkey mind we begin to experience focused mind. Clarified mind is approaching enlightenment. This is full engagement with the light, off the plane of conditioning. This is the same as any enlightened experience in Zen, Yoga, or any contemplative acts. Suffice it to say that Qigong is as much a vessel to this experience as anything. And the mind is where we reside. A focused mind is a powerful force. As our practice deepens we find that we can contribute to our healing and our physical well-being through our minds in concert with our breath and bodies.

Eventually the Three Intentful Corrections become one, as they are infinitely interconnected. Each serves to enhance the other, bringing about the Taiji state of balance and tranquility. And this is what we strive for. This is where we find health, material well-being, tranquility, and transcendence. And once there we find that we have always been there, and will have to return again, because living is just not the same anymore.

(1) Roger Jahnke. The Healing Power of Qi: Creating Extraordinary Wellness Through Qigong and Tai Chi. Contemporary Books, 2002.

(2) Jan Diepersloot. Warriors of Stillness: Meditative Traditions in the Chinese Martial Arts; Volume 1, Qigong of the Center, Essence of Tijiquan: The Teachings of Grandmaster Cai Song Fang. Jan Diepersloot, 1995

Exploring Qigong II: Clarification

2010-02-01T08:03:00.000-08:00

As I delve in the art of Qigong I want to clarify some of the terms and concepts we use in association with the art. I think this helps to better understand what we are looking at and what we are doing. I find it beneficial to revisit definitions and basic concepts from time to time. It helps me to clarify what I'm doing, and to ensure I'm keeping everything in place and in proper perspective. I hope to cover most of the terms and concepts we use in the practice of Qigong. I will probably leave some out or take some for granted. But hopefully I can review the basics.

Gong

The gong of Qigong and Gong Fu, or Chi Kung and Kung Fu if you will, is the same thing. Gong is essential foundation, it is the essence of the essentials. According to Yang Yang, gong "is not technique--it is the root from which the flower of technique can grow.(1)" The practice of Qigong and of Taiji is the process of accumulating gong. The accumulation of gong, according to Yang refers to "constant improvements in balance, coordination, agility, and power through the accretion and replenishment of Qi.(2)" Qi is the vital energy that not only flows through our bodies, but through all of creation. Qigong is the process of cultivating Qi, of consciously and intentionally working the foundation and the essence. The ancient formula, according to Jahnke is "Practice + Intention = Inner Harmony = Qi Flow = Health and Longevity.(3)" Qi is the stuff, gong is the conscious intention.

Dantian

Dantian is defined as the Elixir Field. It is the area of the body where the cultivation of Qi is carried out. On a basic level, we define the dantian as the Qihai point, or CV6 along the Conception Vessel meridian. This area is approximately two inches below the navel. Qihai is translated as 'sea of Qi'. This is the area often referred to in Taji as the dantian. However, the art of Qigong recognizes three dantians. The first, the Earth Dantian, is the lower dantian, the one we have located. The second dantian is the Heart Dantian, located in our chest area roughly in the area of our hearts and is associated with the Chinese concept of Xin, or Heart/Mind. The third dantian is the Heaven Dantian, located just below the Bai Hui point, or GV20 on the Governing Vessel meridian. It is just below the soft spot on the top of your head and the area just behind your eyes. It is also associated with the third eye. In a balanced state the Qi of heaven flows toward earth and the Qi of earth flows toward heaven and merge at the Heart Dantian, thus achieving a Taji state, or fully balanced Yin-Yang state of being(4).

CV1: Huiyin and GV4: Mingmen

Huiyin, or CV1 on the Conception Vessel Meridian is located between the legs and between the genitals and the anus. Mingmen, or GV4 on the Governing Vessel Meridian, is known as the Gate of Life. It is located between the second and third lumbar vertebra. Personal geography is important in Qigong. CV1, Huiyin is directly opposite the Bai Hui point on the top of the head in the vertical axis. Mingmen is directly opposite the lower dantian on the horizontal axis. Utilizing the proper body alignment, the intersection of these two axes is the Wuji Point, or Wuji Center. It is what we usually mean when we discuss our "center".

Wuji and Taiji

Wuji means void or nothingness, stillness, or no extreme. Taiji means grand extremes, or Yin and Yang. Wuji is the mother of Taiji. Yang says that in Wuji, "there is no differentiation between yin and yang. It is neither this nor that--it is no thing (nothing)(5)." Qigong meditation is often referred to as Wuji meditation. It is static Qigong. Once movement happens, yin and yang separate from within Wuji to create Taiji. The Wuji point described above is our center. When we meditate on this point we sense the movement of Qi through the body. The Wuji point is a spiritual point of focus, a biological point of Qi generation, and a structural reference point for posture and balance.

The Three Treasures

The Three Treasures are Shen, Qi, and Jing. Shen is spirit and is associated with the spritual realm of our existence. Qi is essential energy or the life force and is associated with with our minds or our heart/minds. Jing is our essence and is associated with earth, and reproduction. There is much that can be said about The Three Treasures. It is a basic concept that builds upon itself and can be quite intricate in the end. I don't expect to reference this concept in my exploration of Qigong any more than what I have defined here. But for the advanced practitioner there is much to learn and to benefit from.

I hope this serves as a decent primer for the following posts on the subject of Qigong. I am sure I haven't covered all the components of Qigong, but I hope I have covered enough so that any further explanations can be dealt with in text. Typically, the more I look at this subject and consider the art, the more I learn, and the more I am reminded I need to learn. But in the end the best way to learn is to let the art teach you. Just do it.

Works Cited:

(1), (2), (5) Yang Yang. Taijiquan: The Art of Nurturing, The Science of Power. Zhenwu Publications, 2005.

(3), (4) Roger Jahnke. The Healing Power of Qi: Creating Extraordinary Wellness Through Qigong and Tai Chi. Contemporary Books, 2002.

Exploring Qigong

2010-01-30T13:52:00.000-08:00

This is the first of in-depth series of entries exploring Qigong. For those of us practicing the Internal Martial Arts, Qigong serves as a foundation. However, I want to clarify what Qigong is, at least to some degree. Qigong is not Taiji. Although we often write Taiji as Tai Chi, that does not signify that Tai Chi is another form of Qigong. Taiji is translated as grand extreme. Therefore, Taijiquan is also known as grand extreme boxing, or grand extreme fist. The grand extreme of Taiji is yin and yang. Quan is translated as boxing or fist. So, Taijiquan is a martial art based on the extremes of slow and fast. The popular Yang styles of Taiji that are slow and meditative that most people are familiar with are fairly recent modifications of Taijiquan. True Taijiquan of the Chen variety, or the original Yang style of Yang Luchuan have a mix of slow meditative movements and rapid fast discharges of energy know as fajing. In its original intent the slow of Taijiquan compliments the fast, and vice versa. Taijiquan was primarily developed as a martial art. That being said, it is also a healing art and a meditative art, among many other things. But, my point here is that Tai Chi is not just another form of Qigong. It is much more. But given that, Qigong is a part of what Taiji is, and is not only a foundation for Taijiquan, but a foundation for many martial arts, and an art in and of itself.

Qigong may be the most complete natural healing art known to man. And while it may be mysterious to many, it is actually quite simple and very effective. The types and forms of Qigong range from static sitting and standing meditation to very intricate choreographed forms, and yes even Taiji when practiced with healing intention. Ironically, the simplest Qigong, standing meditation, can be the hardest, especially for beginners. But it can also be the most rewarding once one is comfortable with it. Conversely, the more complicated forms can also be very enjoyable to the more experienced practitioner, but are probably no more effective for healing than the simple movement forms. The key to Qigong is not necessarily in the complexity or simplicity of the various approaches as much as it is in the intention and deliberate practice.

While Qigong has been often presented as something mysterious, mystical, or possibly dubious, it is in reality a very practical and effective healing art grounded in Traditional Chinese Medicine, and subjected to Evidence Based Trials in the West that have proven its efficacy to the skeptical Western mind. Qigong is physical exercise, breath control, meditation, and Qi management techniques all rolled up in one system. Beyond the medical field of application, Qigong has spiritual applications or forms, practices that enhance martial training, and techniques that serve to assist the elderly and physically challenged with balance and coordination.

While Qigong is a part of a total training system for me and many others, it is a system in and of itself. There are people who only train in Qigong, who only practice Qigong, and people who daily use Qigong as a tool to heal others. It is a very broad and very deep system. And one that is worthy of serious attention and study

On the Injured Reserve

2010-01-29T09:33:00.000-08:00

So I find myself on the bench. The injured reserve list. I pulled a muscle in my calf last week and it has sidelined me for a while at least. It is not bad enough that I need surgery, but it is bad enough that I can't walk normally without a lot of pain. I can't walk abnormally without a little pain. So after mentally wrestling with myself and subduing my ego, I have decided to take it easy, easy, easy lest I mess myself up good. This means no unnecessary movement, like Taiji. After the first couple of days I did try some simple Qigong, and very soft wave hands and repulse monkey. But it just isn't meant to be. I have more pain than I thought I would, which is a great indicator that it's time to sit for a while. So I am reduced to sitting meditation, homeopathics, grape juice and those martial arts books that I can't resist buying but never have time to read because I spend all my spare time practicing.

There is in this a lesson and a blessing in disguise, as in all things. And I have time to discern that. In the meantime I can catch up on some reading and practice sitting. Which are both things I need to do. I have been experiencing a lot of personal change over the last six months, and I'm sure that process is far from over. So I can use this time to reflect and consider where I want to take my training from here. Once I can start moving again I will be doing more Qigong, which is something else I feel I never get enough of. So, at the very least I have time to catch up on some reading, practice sitting, and begin more Qigong practices. Well, maybe this isn't so bad after all.

The Impotence of Words

2010-01-16T09:12:00.000-08:00

I made substantial progress in my training this past week. I should leave it at that and end this post right here. Because the progress I made is not very explicable. The progress was internal, and like all things internal, external words never do justice. Specifically Monday night's Aikido class and Wednesday morning Taiji were instructive. I crossed a point, hit a new plateau. Although in each case the point was different, it essentially is the same thing. At least part of the process was in my ability to leave my self, my ego, at home and give in to the movement. Of course that is what we strive for, and I can say I have made progress over the years. But this week was different. The change was substantial and noticeable. Rather than being me moving, I felt I transcended dualism and became the movement. And it stayed with me. It was noticeable Thursday as I plowed through the general insanity of the work-day-world. It was noticeable last night in Aikido class and when I did my Chen 48 form this morning. It is noticeable right now as I pull words together and try to explain the inexplicable. The change was arrived at through training and it applies to my art as I continue to train. But further, it carries over into my world. And that is the benefit we strive for: not only to be more in tune with our art, but to be more in tune with our world. If the nature of the godhead is change, then perhaps it is therefore divine to change. As we change our world changes to accommodate us and so follows our further experiences till we are no longer who we once were. And that is just the beginning of the path.

Ordinary Moments

2010-01-10T09:44:00.000-08:00

The extraordinary moments of life are what make up our existence as we are doing other things and waiting for "enlightenment". I had a rather routine doctor's appointment the other day, just a quick check, in and out--or so I thought. It was in the mid-afternoon of a typically busy day. Not that I mind busy days. Busy is good for me. Busy works for my personality. I strive on movement and action.

Anyway, on this particular busy day I had a deadline to meet with my accountant, and customers and vendors who insisted on lighting up my phone lines. As I was driving to my appointment I got two calls on my cell phone about issues that needed immediate attention. I started the process over the phone and promised each of them that I wouldn't be long at my appointment and would get right back to them as soon as I was back in my office.

I checked in as usual and was led back to a treatment room in typical fashion. What wasn't typical was that my doctor was also having a busy day and I had to wait a bit before he saw me. He is usually very punctual. As I was sitting alone in this treatment room with no reading material besides Teen Life and Dermatology Today, I started going over in my head all the things personal and professional that were happening in my life. I noticed a very cheap painting on the wall opposite me of a small pond with lilly pads and what appeared to be lotus flowers. Then it hit me. That was my mindfulness bell.

For a little perspective you need to realize that twenty plus years ago I would have been crawling the walls by this point. I would have likely been pacing the floor, impatiently asking nobody in particular: "Where the hell is he?...Don't you realize I need to be___(fill in the blank)...I don't have time for this...etc, etc, etc...." In my self-important, professional, careerist world, I didn't have time for meaningless distractions, and (God forbid) downtime. Thankfully I have grown, if but only a little. My mindfulness bell--in this case a cheap painting in a doctor's office--brought me back to my center, or somewhere in that general vicinity. Anyway, I took the hint, closed my eyes, and took full advantage of this (once meaningless) distraction and God-given downtime. It wasn't necessarily a Satori moment, or earth-shattering by any means; but then again, maybe it was and I missed it.

The mindfulness bell is used in the Zen tradition as a random reminder to re-focus, to bring our minds away from our fanciful thoughts, worries, and mental fantasies and back to the moment of existence. Thich Nhat Hanh recommends that we use everyday items and events as mindfulness bells. Things such as traffic lights. So every time you stop at a traffic light use it as a reminder to shift your thoughts to now, and away from whatever fantasy or worry you may have been engaging. Mindfulness is more than what we practice in our moments of silent meditation. The process, the act of being present, can be brought out of meditation and into all our activities. As Thay says, when you wash dishes, wash dishes.

Of course this takes massive discipline and much intentional practice. In my case, I was focused for a bit and that moment of silence provided much needed balance in the middle of a hectic day. But typically I was back in my head and slaying all kinds of mental dragons before I made it back to my office. But at least I am aware of the process and am able to occasionally catch myself and take advantage of a break in the action. And I know I have truly grown. What was once a neurotic inconvenience is now an opportunity to transform the ordinary into extraordinary. My work, my growth, has just begun.

Equanimity

2010-01-02T07:02:00.000-08:00

"If one tries to befriend an enemy for a moment, he becomes your friend.
The same thing occurs when one treats a friend as an enemy.
Therefore, by understanding the impermanence of temporal relations,
Wise ones are never attached to food, clothing or reputation, nor to friends or enemies."

The Buddha

In an earlier post, I discussed to some degree our moral responsibilities as martial artists. Later I came across similar discussions here, and again here on Ikigaiway. All of this has led me to further thinking on this subject specifically in relation to the execution of the arts I am studying. If we follow our arts far enough we can learn plenty of techniques useful in the task of defending ourselves, and/or neutralizing a given attacker or opponent. And, as I noted, some of these techniques can not only immobilize but possibly cause serious harm and even death to a potential attacker. While this may be something that must happen to protect oneself or the life of others, it certainly isn't something any balanced person should ever desire and something we should strive to prevent. On the other hand, I have found numerous references to peace in the writings of O'Sensei, and in the various thoughts of Taiji practitioners and writers. But the actual practice of peace in the face of conflict is a very illusive subject.

In his very first entry in The Art of Peace, O'Sensei says to "Work on yourself and your appointed task in the Art of Peace." But he doesn't say how. I mean, sure he goes on to recommend that one should "Foster peace in your own life and then apply the Art to all that you encounter." But again, how? The sticky point here is not in how to live a peaceful life per se, but how our training as martial artists lends itself to that. Jesus and The Buddha, among others, taught to love one's enemy. But how does that happen, especially in a martial context? From what well of inspiration is that strength brought forth? In Buddhism with an Attitude, B. Alan Wallace writes that loving one's enemy doesn't mean to love the person you hate, but to love those who hate you. In what may at first appear ironic to those outside, the practice of Budo can lead the practitioner to just this attitude.

O'Sensei says the purpose of training is to "tighten up the slack, toughen the body, and polish the spirit." And it is this polishing of the spirit that we are addressing. Following the teaching of Grandmaster Feng, Yang Yang recommends that our foremost intention in the practice of Taijiquan is nurturing. In his book, Taijiquan: The Art of Nurturing, The Science of Power, Yang states that Grandmaster's Feng's first principle of Taijiquan practice is xujing: empty and tranquil mind and spirit. Grandmaster Feng teaches that xujing is the essence and ultimate goal of Taijiquan. Xujing leads to tranquility and heightened awareness. Xujing can obviously be arrived at through meditation and form practice. The key, as in all mindfulness practice, is to take it further into the larger world. In this case we do that through training. If we follow Grandmaster Feng's example and make xujing the essence and ultimate goal of our practice it will eventually become a part of our beings. Xujing can and should lead one to a state of equanimity. In Buddhist terminology, equanimity means the ability to remain balanced and centered in the middle of whatever may be happening. This in turn can lead to a compassionate state of mind, and discernment in dangerous or potentially dangerous situations.

The practice of push hands can be very instrumental in developing equanimity. One of the hardest things to overcome for newcomers to push hands practice is the tendency to stiffen up and resist the violation of their personal space. And rightfully so. We have a natural inborn tendency to protect ourselves, and the violation of our personal space sets this in motion. Overcoming this discomfort is a major breakthrough in training. In order to relax, to abandon oneself, and to apply the techniques of sticking, following, and listening, one needs a tranquil state of mind. The practice of our various forms or katas, Wuji and Zhan Zhuang meditation practices, Qigong, and various Ki exercises help to develop, or nurture xujing. And it is an ongoing process. This is why we train, why we constantly train, why we continue to train, and if we are true to our intentions, why we will always train.

Of course we need to be comfortable and confident as well. Which is why we need to go beyond form and push hands training. Even with a tranquil mind we need to know that within us we have the ability to defend ourselves. Equanimity implies balance, equal parts Yin and Yang. Knowing how to deliver a well-timed Dim Mak knock out punch is incomplete knowledge without the peace of mind to also know when to not. Accordingly, being well-versed in slow meditative and healthy Taiji forms, or the dance of interactive Budo techniques and knowing little or nothing about the martial applications behind them, much less having the ability to use them, or the intention to fully carry them out is equally incomplete. Equanimity is balance, equal parts Yin and Yang, and an appropriate goal of training.

Me and My Bad Left Knee

2009-12-19T10:07:00.000-08:00

I thought about going in the army. I thought about going overseas.
I wouldn't have trouble with a piss test; only problem is my bad left knee.

The Drive-By Truckers, "Never Gonna Change"

More than one inspirational thinker has noted that pain, or the fear of pain, leads to motivation then action. I feel qualified to attest to this as a truism. I was off and on with martial arts as a young man, mostly off. I always wanted to, but for one reason or another never committed to serious training. Then as I was approaching thirty I came down with a rare form of arthritis, or rather rheumatism, that sidelined me for a while and ended a military career. It also motivated me over time to be more self-reliant and open-minded in terms of health and healing. This eventually led me to Bhuddhist thought, which led to Qigong, which led to Taiji, which led back to other martial arts. Now, some twenty years after the first onset of my arthritis troubles, I am training fairly hard for a 49 year old and have no intention of stopping my study of the martial arts. I am however, still stuck with arthritis. But the symptoms are much less severe and the episodes are further apart. The occasion is rare that I am totally sidelined or stopped because of it. Even then my greatest challenge is my left knee.

I am sure that sometime in my younger days I damaged my left knee and it just festered, waiting for an excuse to misbehave. Somehow, between jumping and falling out of trees, motorcycle wrecks, football, fighting, and general boyish activity I planted a bad seed. Arthritis became that excuse to misbehave. But that bad knee has also become my motivation. It did mess me up pretty bad a couple of years ago. I had been practicing Judo and Aikido at the time, but twisted it or hyper-extended it (I'm not sure what really happened) at work, and that put me on ice for about six months. I was still able to do limited slow Taiji work with a brace, but overall I had to take it easy. But I have insisted it would not stop me.

I have worked intentionally on leg strengthening exercises with the idea that as long as it's functional enough to support me through normal day-to-day activity, it should be able to support extra-normal (no-to-light impact) activity as well as long as I build the muscles around it accordingly. So in my individual training I have focused on squats, the Shaolin horse stance, the Warrior II pose, bicycle riding, and Zhan Zhuang Standing Pole. This has worked to a large degree. I had a setback about six months ago when I pulled a hamstring on the same leg. This has caused strain to be exerted on both the knee and hip joints in that leg as the hamstring itself heals. But overall my leg muscles on both legs are quite developed now, at least consistent with if not beyond the strength needed for normal Taji and Aikido training.

I feel as if I'm winning this battle, at least for now. I am able to do the low stances and moves in the Chen Taiji that I study, as well as the Suwari Waza in Aikikai Aikido. In fact, my Aikido Sensei insists this training will in itself work to heal my knee. I don't know. But I do know it helps in the long run as it works to strengthen the surrounding muscles in a unique way. I am still wearing a brace on that knee most of the time when I train. My hamstring still bothers me some, which aggravates the knee. And the old arthritis visits all my joints ever so often. But I am confident in one thing: I am much healthier, mind body and soul, practicing my arts than I would be without them. That much I know. Perhaps this pain is a blessing afterall.

Doing by Not Doing

2009-12-12T12:51:00.000-08:00

I was preparing some documents last week at work and had a bit of martial insight. As this work was rather monotonous I allowed my mind to wander as I waded through it. In effect, it required a lot of typing of the same thing over and over on several documents. I am a fairly fast typist, but not the most error-free. Anyway, as I progressed I began to notice that my speed increased and my errors decreased. At least they did until I became conscious of it. Once I paid attention to what I was doing, started thinking about what I was doing rather than simply doing it, I began to make mistakes. This project was big enough that it took me a couple of hours to complete. So I couldn't resist the temptation for mental experimentation. I purposefully blurred my thoughts so that I proceeded mindlessly so to speak. As I did this my errors decreased again. I ended up working in a sort of auto-pilot mode. But as soon as I mentally noted this, or thought about it, I slipped back into mistakes.

I couldn't help but compare this to my martial arts training. As we train over time our bodies learn the moves and techniques to the point that we can complete them without thinking. In fact, once our bodies know, it becomes counter-productive to think too much. I am not however promoting day dreaming. That is even more counter-productive. The goal is to focus by being centered and being totally aware of our bodies. In the language of Tajiquan, we should transfer our consciousness from our mind or head to our dantien and then proceed utilizing the body's knowledge. This is another example how our martial training draws on mindfulness practice for guidance. The key to meditation is to focus on breathing or a mantra. As this proceeds our minds relax and drop all the external noise to focus on the present moment. This practice means one thing when our bodies are still. It means something else when they are moving and possibly engaging with another. This process leads to allowing the body to do what it knows without interference from monkey mind.

This is so much easier to say, or write about than it is to learn and practice. But on the other hand, nothing could be easier. It is just simply another facet of a complete training regime. Focusing on the mental aspect of training not only leads to better health, but better budo.

Our Martial Responsibilities

2009-11-01T11:10:00.000-08:00

What are our responsibilities as martial artists? One never knows how he/she will react if actually attacked or accosted. In the classical martial arts so much of our training is toward skills not directly related to combat. There are combat systems that strip down the techniques to the essential necessary for fighting or self defense. But the classical systems are more rounded and aim for higher ends than just simply the ability to fight well. However, they are still martial arts and any self-described martial artist should feel comfortable with the prospect of defending him/herself. But, what then are our responsibilities to that end?

A well-executed Dim-Mak strike or a combat throw on a hard surface could very well end in serious damage or death to the attacker. Do we, as the potential defender, bear any responsibility for the safety and well-being of a person who is attacking us? I think the answer is, like most things in life, ambiguously yes and no. Please keep in mind that my answers are based on my own personal philosophy of life and morality; and that I think such philosophies and thoughts are by default subjective. So, this is just my perspective.

As an Aikidoist I believe in O-Sensei's ideal of caring for our attacker as a fellow human being, and therefore doing just enough to control the situation and try to avoid harming said attacker. But as someone who has experienced bullies, and sandlot fights and barroom brawls, I also believe that ideal has to be taken with a grain of salt. All life is sacred and should be protected. That does include the life of our attacker. But it also includes our own lives and the lives of our friends and loved ones. As martial artists we have responsibilities to protect our own lives, the lives of those close to us, and IF POSSIBLE the lives of those who attack us. But, in keeping with the tenets of Natural Law, once another person has taken aggressive action against us, they have compromised and jeopardized their own rights.

Training should, among other things, work to address how we handle attackers and how we respond under stress. Ideally we should know and automatically react with the correct response. I don't know if anyone really reaches this ideal state. But it is a part of what we should train for. The injunction to relax and control our responses is difficult, but crucial to being a well-rounded martial artist. I believe that if a person is truly aiming for this end, then he/she is justified in whatever reaction occurs if they are attacked. Again, Natural Law basically trumps here. If a person violates your space or your person, you have the right to react in whatever manner you find necessary at the time. For it will not have been you that transgressed, but the attacker. All you are doing is protecting your space and your person.

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2009-10-21T05:34:00.000-07:00

Xingyi Quan Wang Xiangzhai

Relax, Just Relax

2009-10-04T11:23:00.000-07:00

I guess this is my greatest challenge: relaxing. I would have not thought that was the case, and often (far too often) I forget. But it is. Relaxing is at the absolute core of the arts I study. I imagine it is at the core of most martial arts, most meditative traditions, most sensible approaches to living. But it still seems to be a giant challenge. And I'm not really sure why. I think in part it is counter intuitive. When we are working on something that takes concentration, we put everything into it--maybe too much. Since I have been working on this and trying to be mindful I notice it happens more often on new techniques and applications, and/or if I am tired and not paying attention. When trying something new or difficult, I want it all to work out. So I try. When I try I often tense up, especially around the shoulders. I think more than anything it is bad habit, but deeply ingrained just the same.

Another challenge is trying to muscle my way through a technique instead of letting the technique itself do the work. That also happens subconsciously because that is how I have always done things. In fact I do understand the concept of structure and Aiki, blending with a partner's energy. But it is easier said than done, and I have to consciously make myself do it, which inevitably leads to muscling because I am doing the technique rather than working through a technique that is in itself doing it. I have been practicing Taiji long enough now that I can often catch myself as long as I am mindful and focused, and adjust without too much difficulty or without totally losing it all. With Aikido I'm just not there yet. And it often feels as if I will never be there. I am sure that is one of the reasons it takes so long to make rank.

I am working with the premise that practice eventually makes perfect, or at least works some of the kinks out. I believe I can make it work eventually, as long as I quit trying so hard. Now is that a Koan or what?

Shi Yan Lei's Dharma of Fighting

2009-09-22T11:43:00.001-07:00

A recent article in Kung Fu Magazine on the Dharma of Fighting gets right to one of the main tenets of this blog: the use of various martial art practices as tools of mindfulness. In the article Shi Yan Lei explains how he found his Kung Fu practices as better tools for focusing than the meditation techniques commonly practiced in his Chan Monastery. To quote the Push Hands Master, Herman Kauz, "It's not about fighting." It's about self actualization through the practice of being in the moment. So often we forget how fast and fleeting a moment is, and how quickly it is replaced by yet another moment, and then another again... The mantras and breathing exercises of meditation disciplines are aimed at giving us a focus to keep monkey mind at bay. The forms, katas, and qigongs of the martial arts can serve the same purpose. The resulting mindfulness, combined with the release of endorphins and the freeing of Qi flow, results in definite steps towards transformation and personal growth. And like all things in life, these are but steps on an infinite pathway. This pathway takes us where we want to be, but at the same time there is no final destination. Striving is arriving.

Is it Autumn Already?

2009-09-01T15:02:00.000-07:00

Here it is Sept 1 and the weather here in the North Carolina Piedmont is cool, approx. 59 Deg. F this morning. Mother Nature has a calendar. On one hand I hate to see the summer go. On the other, I welcome and enjoy the change of season, every change, every season. Why not? This is what we have. Better to love it and be present, than to decry it and be elsewhere in mind.

It was a good summer for Budo. The park wherein we practice morning Taiji reflects the changes. During the spring we did our "Tree Qigong", where we exchange energy with select trees. It was so successful we carried it on into the summer. We use it for our opening practice as a way to warm up, loosen up, and connect with the environment. Long about July, as I was standing under a Hickory practicing Zhan Zhuang, I heard a racket above. Mr. Squirrel was just above my head and not in the least impressed with me borrowing energy from his tree. And he was telling me about it. I have to say it interrupted my silence and brought out a laugh. I had to move on to another tree before I was accosted. A couple of weeks later and it was Mr. Squirrel and his Squirrely friends who were accosted, as a pair of hawks decided to use our section of the park as their hunting ground. They antagonized the squirrels for a half hour or so before moving on. I never did see them catch one, but they certainly tried. As much as I value the quiet and meditative park setting, I had to give in to distraction and view this show.

Several times over the summer we were forced to find another spot as our usual shelter was occupied by one or two homeless citizens as we arrived. No problem. We can easily move to another location, or practice in the grass. Nothing as serious as choosing a place to bed down for the night. One morning I found the picnic bench occupied by a small brown Praying Mantis. I arrived earlier than my partners so I sat on the bench and observed this Northern Kung Fu Master. He was in no mood for me. He arranged himself at a 45 degree angle, showed me his fists and silently waited for me to make the next move. I kept my patience and my peace. After the others arrived I stood up and we began our transition into the Chen Hunyaun 45 movement form. The wise old teacher was not impressed. I looked back over to the bench to see he was long gone, off to more exciting adventures I'm sure.

Things have been equally interesting for my nighttime Aikido classes. We lost our space at the YWCA, which turned out to be a blessing. We now share a full and regular dojo space with another Aikido school. We have a much larger space, permanent mats, changing rooms, and weapons. What we don't have there is an air conditioner. I think that is a good thing, much to the chagrin of my fellow students. It makes the workout that much more challenging and healthful. However, our first day on the mat in the new dojo I pulled a hamstring. Sensei was demonstrating Yokomenuchi Shihonage with me as Uke. As I went into a forward roll upon being thrown my foot caught in his hakama and my body went one way while my leg stayed put. It has been problematic all summer. It is getting better, slowly.

I have taken advantage of the slow economy and practiced martial arts as absolutely much as possible. On average I have made at least 3, sometimes 4 Taiji classes a week, and 2, sometimes 3 Aikido classes. Additionally I have worked fairly hard on conditioning and riding the bicycle. I believe I am in much better shape now than I was at the beginning of summer, and I hope my Budo has improved accordingly. I now look forward to Fall and whatever may be ahead.

The Kalama Sutta

2009-08-15T11:59:00.000-07:00

The Kalama Sutta teaching comes to me through the I Liq Chuan Association. It comes to all of us from The Buddha. It is, I think, one of the most important teachings I have come across. In short the the Buddha teaches here to not believe religious or spiritual teachings just because certain teachers or scriptures claim them to be true, but to rely always on one's own experience. This is important because mindfulness practices are premised on experience. One may be instructed on technique, which may or may not be helpful. But eventually what rings most true to us are the things we experience directly. Further, mindfulness is all experience, all the time.

This carries over to the Internal Martial Arts as we are focused on awareness, sensitivity, and centering. They are not effective otherwise. That is also why they are never quite mastered. Quite like enlightenment, true awareness is something we are always striving for, experiencing over and over again. There simply is no end, there is only continual being.

Going into Combat

2009-06-21T10:09:00.000-07:00

Some time back a young rambunctious hard stylist asked me if I had ever used Taiji in a fight. While I am a big proponent of self defense, it is not my primary reason for practicing martial arts. I simply answered no. But in my mind I thought, yes. I have used Taiji and Aikido in fights, I do daily. I fight arthritis, hypoglycemia, carcinogens in our environment, the effects of a reckless young life, the creeping effects of approaching old age, the seeds of violence in us all, self-doubt, the metaphorical devil in all his tempting manifestations. Budo/Kung Fu is a disciplined system of self-improvement, self-actualization. It is in a word a fight. It is easier to have a gluttonous, lazy, spiritually empty life. Or is it? Actually I think following a disciplined system is far easier and more rewarding in the long run than the alternative.

This reflects a split in the martial arts community, and the misunderstanding that many non-martial artists have. There is a difference between Bujitsu and Budo. These are Japanese terms, the former is martial art the latter is martial way. The do in Budo is derived from the Chinese Dao, or Way. This gives it a spiritual connotation. In the Chinese Internal Martial Arts, this is taken for granted. Internal Kung Fu is grounded in Qigong, Traditional Chinese Medicine, Buddhism, Daoism, and the combat arts. The way of the warrior is a complete discipline encompassing much more than the ability to fight. In our modern society these other aspects take on a more important function, as the need for combat is not what it was in ancient times. Consequently, the health and spiritual aspects leave the practitioner with a more peaceful orientation further to the original intent of the arts. The more people there are with peaceful orientations, the more peace there is in the world. The defining of all martial arts as combat arts premised on violence is misplaced and unfortunate. O-Sensei maintained that Aikido is the ultimate art of peace. From the outside that may be confusing. But once one has practiced for some time the definition makes sense. It accordingly applies to many of the “do” arts of Asia, those premised on The Dao.

In Memory

2009-05-18T09:55:00.000-07:00

A friend of mine, a Taiji sister, just passed away. It is a sad event. Little more than a year ago she was practicing Taiji 4-6 times a week and was notably strong for her age. Around that time she embarked on a missionary trip to Africa and was required to take a round or two of immunizations. Almost immediately upon returning she began having problems with strength and balance. The medical officials floated several potential culprits, including a reaction to the immunizations. While we may never really know, I am afraid the latter is a good possibility. Although I am told the doctors rescinded that diagnosis before long.

In any case, my friend went downhill fast. She continued coming to Taiji class and meetings in the park as long as she could. But before long she was in a wheelchair. The last time I saw her she came to class and sat through our form practice, doing the hand movements from her seat. But she was in good spirits. She was reading Roger Jahnke, and Thich Nhat Hahn, and looking to the future. But she never returned to Taiji functions.

I got an email from her some two months before she passed. Actually she dictated it to a friend as she no longer had control of most of her body at that point. She said she had limited movement in her hands and neck, but was confined to bed for 22.5 hours a day. In her message she thanked me for my patience in our Taiji practices together, and she expounded on all her blessings. She was thankful for the opportunity to learn patience in her condition, for the good people around her, and for the time to reflect on the importance of spending time with loved ones. Instead of decrying the whole experience she determined it was heart-opening.

I never heard from her again. Two months later I received news she had passed from this life. There are several things about this that are remarkable for me. One, of course, is again another reminder of how quickly time flies and how soon life is over. Another thing, for me at least, is the insanity of western medicine--especially immunizations. Another frightening thing about this is our limited control in the sequences of our lives. I am engaged in healthful and mindful practices because I want to ensure I have some control over how my life unfolds. But we must remember, as Don Juan told Castenada(1), death is always just over our shoulder. This does not mean we should tremble in its presence. On the contrary, it means we should live our lives as impeccably as possible, and never, ever take a single moment for granted.

1. Castenada, Carlos. A Separate Reality; Further Conversations with Don Juan. Washington Square Press.

Reflections on WTCQD

2009-04-26T11:13:00.000-07:00

Saturday April 25th: World Tai Chi and Qigong Day. I made my cup of tea and stepped out into a beautiful North Carolina Spring day. There was only one soundtrack worthy of my ride across Forsyth County, from east to west, to where this year’s celebration was being held: Terrapin Station. The cracking one note wah-wahs of Estimated Prophet set the perfect mood as I dropped my windows and put my Solara into the wind. There is indeed something magical about Carolina this time of year. The grass is greener and the sky bluer than any other place on earth. The grazing milk cows that lined my route obviously take it for granted. But I don’t. I know better. I’ve spent springtime in other parts of the country. And while it is gratefully accepted and enjoyed everywhere, it just isn’t as visually striking as it is here. After 3-4 months of dull gray colors the effluence of life is all the more striking.

Reflecting on the beauty of the day and my intention, I thought about how already, all around the world, people were practicing Tai Chi/Qigong just as Dancing in the Streets started up. What a positive twist on a Motown classic.

Sunrise was in full swing as I began approaching Winston Salem, and I again reflected on what it is all about:

“He hums, there are drums, four winds, rising suns,
We are singing and playing, I her him saying.

I remember breezes from winds inside your body
Keep me high, like I told you, Ill sing to them this story and know why¹.”

Tai Chi is such a multifaceted art. It is an extremely effective martial art, while at the same time is the ultimate art of peace. Taiji actualizes many of the stated goals of the meditative arts. Master Jou says, Taiji can “become a revelation showing the relationship between time and space, creating a gate through which the four-dimensional world can be entered²” Consequently Qigong alone or as a component of Taiji practice is a spiritual and a healing art. Both of these systems are rooted in Taoist spiritual practices and TCM. And like many things of mystical nature they have to be experienced to be full appreciated. Words just don’t do them justice.

The title track of my cruising CD was wrapping up as I pulled into the park and the players started coming in from all corners,

“Sullen wings of fortune beat like rain.
You’re back in terrapin for good or ill again, for good or ill again³”

As we began to gather the energy started flowing over. Younger players began going through the motions of their forms, while the elders maintained the peace that marks their presence. Old friends and acquaintances struck up conversations while new friends spoke in generalities and the quieter among us found seats and observed. But rest was not the order of the day, not this day. Not that Taiji and Qigong are tiring or exhausting. Quite the contrary, they are rejuvenating.

We began by centering ourselves and acquiring good Taiji postures. We all participated in some simple Qigong practices while we synchronized with ourselves and the rest of the world. This in and of itself was worth the trip and the energy was phenomenal. As the day proceeded we took turns experiencing different forms, techniques, and practices as presented by the different schools and teachers participating. It was all very enlightening and refreshing. There was a noticeable level of energy and goodwill permeating our area. If it were quantifiable I am sure it could power the city, or perhaps end the war; would that it worked that way.

All-in-all I call this year’s WTCQD a success. Personally I saw old friends and teachers, fellow practitioners, and met new friends. As I write this, some 24 hours later, I am still charged with an abundance of Qi. If you’ve been there, you know what I mean. If not, I invite you to try it. Again, words just don’t do it justice.

Terrapin Station The Grateful Dead. 1977. Arista Records
Jou, Tsung Hwa. The Dao of Taijiquan; Way to Rejuvenation. 2001, The Tai Chi Foundation. Pp. 135.
Terrapin Station The Grateful Dead. 1977. Arista Records

The Tao of the Sun

2009-04-24T08:20:00.000-07:00

Spring has indeed sprung and summer is close at hand. This means more, much more, outdoor activities. I officially kicked it off with a good long bicycle ride yesterday in the 80 Deg F sunshine. Tomorrow I do Tai Chi Day in 90+.

Thank you God for sunshine, and all that follows from it.

Where would we be without it?

World Tai Chi and Qigong Day, Apr. 25th

2009-04-22T10:48:00.000-07:00

Arpil 25th, 2009 is World Tai Chi and Qigong Day. It starts at 10:00am, wherever you are in the world, and last until at least 12:00 noon. The idea behind the celebration is for everyone in the world who is participating to engage in Tai Chi and/or Qigong during the designated time and therefore contribute to a continuous wave of peaceful healing energy that will simultaneously spread across the globe as participants in each time zone begin the process. This is a great opportunity to participate in a world-wide experiment in peace, to interact and have fellowship with Taiji players in your community, and to learn more about these wonderful, dynamic, and infinitely varied arts. As more and more Westerners are introduced to these arts we also find a concurrently growing number of medical studies and trials--in Western clinical environments--confirming what many Asians have known for centuries: These are powerful healing arts. What's more these are self-empowering arts. They provide a framework whereby we may actively engage in our own healing process, and contribute to our self-actualization.

It is my intention to attend the celebration in my community and report my experience back here. It is my desire that these arts "catch on" with more people as I believe they are truly remarkable and contribute to healthier individuals and a more peaceful world.

Under The Blade

2009-03-01T12:50:00.000-08:00

Under The Blade

As I was learning the ukemi for sankyo and nikkyo my Sensei passed on an important and universal insight: “In Aikido we go under the blade.” Typically when we are on the receiving end of joint locks, or most localized pain, we tend to stiffen and instinctually attempt to get away. However, if we try to fight a joint lock it only gets worse. The proper response is to stay soft and go with it, to relax into the hold as much as possible. This helps Tori/Nage to better learn his side of the kata, and keeps Uke from being injured.

The lesson for training is obvious. I have found joint locks easier to tolerate and training to be safer as I relax. This of course applies to other holds, throws, and grappling applications. A crucial component of Internal Martial Arts training is learning to be soft. A common mistake in the early stages of learning is attempting to power through applications, to use strength instead of technique and proper form. The key to Asian Martial Arts is to be smarter rather than simply stronger, to correctly use your partner’s energy against him rather than overpowering him. On the flip side of this Uke should also resist the temptation to resort to strength. In the processes of free sparring and combat the roles of Uke and Tori are dynamic. Intelligent relaxation is crucial for everyone.

I can remember first attempting to body surf in the Atlantic on a fairly rough-water day. As the waves began to break I was no longer swimming and had lost all control to the power of the ocean. Instinctively I stiffened and tried to right myself to ensure a smooth landing. The wave promptly stood me on my head and crashed down on top of me. I ended up with a headache, a nose full of salt water and trunks full of sand. After a few more attempts and few more crashes I learned to relax and let the wave carry me along. The result of course was an enjoyable ride and a smooth landing on the beach.

The practical and metaphorical lessons for life outside the dojo, or off the beach, are also obvious. Life has a way of seemingly spinning out of control. We often feel as if we are blown or carried by greater forces, as if we are at their mercy. We do well to relax into such situations. In fact we do well to relax into all of life, to use the greater forces of life to our advantage. Buddhism teaches that we go with all the situations of life, even the painful ones. We cannot resist any of the changes we are presented with. It is obviously better to experience them for what they are as calmly as possible.

The Gong of Walking

2009-01-24T08:40:00.000-08:00

My “personal growth” schedule is filled to the max. I have way more opportunities than I do time to take advantage of them. But somewhere between the loftier goals of martial competence and glimpses of enlightenment, it pays to slow down and enjoy the moment. Indeed, it is my belief that the moment itself is the goal. It ironically gets lost in the steps to fulfillment.

Last week I went out on a Monday morning to do Taiji in the park. It was cold and a national holiday, so I was the only one who showed up. That’s not a totally unusual occurrence since there are only 3-4 of us who do this regularly anyway. So I took advantage of the opportunity and worked on a couple of forms and Qi Gong by myself. It was a nice morning, even if it was cold. So I decided to further my opportunity and walk a while. The city park where we practice has a nice walking trail and is adjacent to a greenway along a creek. In short, it is a great place for walking in the city.

Walking is a great practice for rejuvenation and focus. I’m not talking here of Zen walking, or Qi Gong walking, great practices in their own right. Nor am I talking about anaerobic walking, also a great practice. Rather, there is much to be gained from good old fashioned walking at one’s own pace.

Here I am walking with no destination in mind, no time limits, and no goal outside the act of walking itself. I slow down and notice the birds, the sound of the creek, the colors that are still available in the full gray of winter. My mind is settled by the presence of the moment. My body is energized by the activity. The demands of life fall away, at least for the moment. The only demand I recognize is the fact that I do have to go back to my car and the rest of the world eventually. But in the meantime….

Core Values

2008-12-05T13:12:00.000-08:00

My Alma Mater has for the last ten-plus years been re-defining itself, and hence establishing itself for bigger and better things. It has been an impressive transformation to witness. But without transgressing into the change itself I wanted rather to emphasize one of their chosen tactics. The school, a 120 year old Catholic University, is rooted in the Benedictine tradition. As part of their new 'mission and goals statement' they formulated their core values based on those of the Benedictines. Specifically, they are as follows:
Excellence; Community; Respect; Personal Development; Personal Stewardship; Integrity.

I have thought about how these apply to those of us interested in personal and spiritual growth. As an organization's core values they take a different meaning than those of an individual. This is what they mean to me individually:

Excellence: Seek excellence in all you do. Look for it in creation. Always strive to be better. Revere it and bless it wherever you encounter it.
Community: We all have different communities we are engaged in. These should be valued and nurtured as one values and nurtures oneself.
Respect: Respect all living things. Respect other people, their feelings, their property, their values, their culture.
Personal Development: This is the biggie. This is what this is all about. Personal development is mental, physical, and spiritual. And there are no lines dividing these categories.
Personal Stewardship: We have all been blessed to varying degrees. We should be thankful for our blessings and good stewards of our gifts. As we do these we open the door for more and greater blessings.
Integrity: There is an old Quaker saying, "let your yea be yea, and your no be no". This sums it up. I should be as good as my word and my word should be as good as I can be.

Primordial Qigong

2008-10-19T13:12:00.000-07:00

The Primordial Qigong form is one of the oldest Qigong practices known to man. It is believed to have been developed by Zhang San Feng, the creator of Taiji. I have been practicing this form for over four years now. It is one of the most powerful practices I know of and has been immensely beneficial to me. I learned it through my Taji school, the founders of which are associated with Michael Winn, likely this form’s biggest proponent. The Primordial is an inner elixir form. In other words it is an “Inner Alchemy” practice. Inner Alchemy is an advanced practice concerned with a spiritual medicine known as the golden elixir. The primordial Qigong is purported to act to reverse time in the practitioner, leading to a reversal in the aging process and a long life. Rather than leave the reader with the impression of mystical mystery I will here quote Roger Jahnke a Doctor of Oriental Medicine from his book The Healing Promise of Qi¹:

“This alchemical fire [the Qigong process] burns away the illusions of our conditioned life, self-sabotaging habits, and compulsions to reveal what the ancient life scientists called true reality (Quan Zhen) and the true person (Zhen Ren). At this point, in the highest levels of Qigong, pure spirit is revealed and the practitioner is considered an immortal or a fully realized being. In chemistry, in the purification of gold, fire is used to burn off all impurities. In Inner Alchemy, all of the complexities and conditioned factors of the self are refined in the fire of personal cultivation to reveal the pure gold of the essential nature.” Pp. 80

Jahnke describes the Primordial Qigong as a form of Wuji Qigong. Wuji is the mother of Taiji. Wuji can be translated as the void or abyss, or as no extreme, as opposed to Taiji, which is grand extreme. So in Wuji there is no Yin and Yang, no differentiation, just the void, all that there is but at the same time no thing. Hence Wuji is in essence spiritual. In the particular lineage of Chen style Taiji that I practice Wuji practice is fundamental, and primarily experienced through Zan Zhuang, standing meditation, and Da Zuo, sitting meditation. Additionally, I Liq Chuan, my other primary martial art, premised on Taji and Buddhist principles, places prime importance on Zan Zhuang, and is itself considered a moving meditation. So, while the Primordial Qigong is not formally a part of either of these two systems, it is complimentary and an appropriate addition to either or both systems.

As noted above this is a powerful practice. But it is much more than a physical exercise designed to stretch and strengthen muscles and ligaments. This is a spiritual practice and by extension a medical practice as well. But don’t take my word for it, try it. I recommend Jahnke’s book to anyone interested in a deeper understanding of Qigong, and Michael Winn’s approach to the Primordial form specifically. The only things you have to lose are time and possibly ill health and aging. You may gain more than you imagine.

1: The Healing Promise of Qi: Creating Extraordinary Wellness Through Qigong and Tai Chi. 2002. Roger Jahnke. Contemporary Books.

This is I Liq Chuan

2008-09-11T10:56:00.000-07:00

This is I Liq Chuan

I Liq Chuan is an internal martial art based on Taiji and Zen principles. It places a strong emphasis on awareness, which is of course preceded by mindfulness. I Liq Chuan in America is directed by Master Sam Chin. I have been studying this art for a couple of months now and just attended a workshop with Master Chin. It was amazing. I Liq Chuan does not focus on applications or choreographed martial simulations as much as it does skills and priniciples. Yet it has a much stronger martial focus than most Taiji schools, at least as we know them in America. I am finding this to be a great compliment to my Taiji studies. For the time being I can only devote a small amount of time to I Liq Chuan training, primarily because of logistics and distance. But I see this as real discovery for me. Stand by for more.

Judo Frustrations

2008-08-28T06:21:00.000-07:00

I tried to keep up with the Judo events in the recent Olympics, but it was difficult. I never did see where it was broadcast on television. If it was it must have been at 3:00 am. I did get some live video streaming from NBC.com and they had some replay videos available. But all-in-all it was difficult, unlike swimming, volleyball, or the Equestrian bouts. What I did get to see explains, at least to me, why it didn’t get much airplay. The rules structure of modern sport Judo, especially Olympic Judo, is choking the sport out. Judo provides some of the most intense and technical sparring of any martial arts-based sports, if allowed to play out. However, there is such an emphasis on minute rules, the points system, and the strategic advantage to working these in favor of all-out randori that the action continually stalls. Rather than the dynamic sport Dr. Kano envisioned, modern sport judo reminds me more of a baseball game. You calmly watch and wait for something, anything, to happen. And then as soon as it does it’s over. However, there is some hope. I read that the Olympic committee is considering a re-write of the rules to try and address these very issues. We can only hope that they do. Judo, the martial arts community, and the sports world at large would only benefit.

The Priorities of Taiji Practice

2008-08-21T12:42:00.000-07:00

Yang Yang, in his book Taijiquan: The Art of Nurture, The Science of Power says that the most important component of Taiji is nurturing, or acquiring gong. My first Qi Gong teacher, Master Yong Zhou, taught something very similar. Master Zhou’s English is limited so he never went into much detail. But what he did say was something to the extent that gathering Qi, read Qi Gong exercises, was good. Depleting Qi, through running or hard martial arts for example, was bad. Accordingly, I have read other writers and teachers in the internal arts claiming that the soft, nurturing exercises of Taiji form or Qi Gong were enough in themselves. Hence, the flabby shape often found in many Taiji practitioners. Further, it has been my experience that many Taiji teachers emphasize little to none of the martial side of the art. I am myself first and foremost concerned with nurturing, but I still believe the martial side of the art should be emphasized and developed and that some degree of physical conditioning is necessary, commensurate with the individual’s physical abilities and limitations. Thinking on this has led me to develop my own prioritized list.

My list is in terms of importance or priority, but I should say there is little room between the rankings and even the lowest is important to me and not to ever be disregarded.

1) Meditation

2) Qi Gong (including Taiji form)

3) Physical Conditioning

4) Advanced form and interactive (two person) work

5) Martial ability

Meditation: I attended a workshop with the Zen priest, Vietnam Veteran, and Peace Activist Claude Anshin Thomas a couple of years back. In discussing Zanzen, or meditation, he said “Why wouldn’t you? What is more important than waking up?” What indeed? My definition of meditation includes the Wuji Zhuang (standing meditation) and Da Zuo (sitting meditation) associated with Chen Style Taiji, along with Buddhist mindfulness practices and Christian contemplative prayer. In this regard I believe all roads lead to home, but the road is infinite. This is the most important practice, but it should always be practiced. Even enlightenment, once gained, has to be maintained.

Qi Gong: The practice of Qi Gong, including the Taiji form, constitutes the best part of what Yang refers to as nurturing. Meditation is of course part of this as well. In fact, Wuji meditation is considered to be sitting or standing static Qi Gong. While meditation is crucial for mental and spiritual health, Qi Gong encompasses the total being, mental/spiritual/physical. Qi Gong is the cornerstone of Traditional Chinese Medicine and is my personal prescription for health preventive maintenance. For me, Qi Gong precedes any other physical engagement, and time always can be and should be made for Qi Gong practice, just as it is made for bathing, brushing our teeth, or any other maintenance activities.

Physical Conditioning: While I think Qi Gong precedes physical conditioning, it does not supersede or replace it. As noted above, ones level of conditioning is determined by health and physical limitations. There are those who simply can’t do cardio-vascular exercise; for those who can it should be an important part of our routines. It is not necessary that one be able to compete in triathlons, but our strength and endurance levels should exceed our daily, normal activity requirements. In this, as in all things, moderation is key. Each person should have an idea as to how much external muscular strength and endurance they wish to build. But for me, physical conditioning is a key component of my health practice.

Advanced Form and Interactive Work: This is a broad category. I consider advanced form to be the more physically challenging forms, such as the Chen Second Routine Pao Chui, XingYi, or Karate Katas, as well as two person forms such as the Yang Style San Shou, Aikido, and I Liq Chuan. The last three also qualify as interactive work, as well as push hands, sticky hands, spinning hands, and Aikido interactive Ki exercises. The Pao Chui, and the forms of XingYi and I Liq Chuan are not as nurturing as the slower meditative Taiji forms. But they are crucially important to individual growth and the practice of the arts. Push Hands, Aikido, Yang San Shou, Sticky Hands, and Spinning Hands offer us the opportunity to help nurture our partners, develop interpersonal skills and compassion. This is a crucial component of the internal arts, and something that separates these practices from sparring, and true martial application. As noted above, the lines dividing these categories are weak and ambiguous, as I see these as advanced but very important aspects of the practice of internal martial arts.

Martial Ability: What I mean by martial ability is quite simply the ability to fight, or better, the ability to defend oneself, to handle an attacker in such a way to neutralize or stop the attack—preferably without causing harm to the attacker. We don’t live in the kind of world where the people who invented many of the ancient martial arts lived. Ours is a more peaceful world by a long shot. Most of us can and will go through the best part, if not possibly all, of our lives without a significant physical conflict. But that is not a 100% guarantee. The world is still a relatively dangerous place, or it can be. It is in everyone’s best interest to know how defend themselves. Note that I am talking about defense here. A true martial artist will avoid conflict if at all possible. My choice in following the internal martial arts means that the learning curve for martial ability is steep. The technique is true and efficient, but it takes many years to learn. I am comfortable with that. I have supplemented my training with techniques from other arts. I feel confident in my ability to defend myself, and in the possibility that I likely won’t ever have to. This component is for me like all the others, a way to personal growth and improvement. That is the utmost reason for any of it.

The Symptoms of Inner Peace

2008-07-20T10:27:00.000-07:00

The Symptoms of Inner Peace was written by Saskia Davis in 1984. It was recently published in the Winter, 2007 issue of the Peace Pilgrim Newsl etter.

Below is a copy, with regards to the author and Peace Pilgrim:

SYMPTOMS OF INNER PEACE

Be on the lookout for symptoms of inner peace. The hearts of a great many have already been exposed to inner peace and it is possible that people everywhere could come down with it in epidemic proportions. This could pose a serious threat to what has, up to now, been a fairly stable condition of conflict in the world.

Some signs and symptoms of inner peace:
A tendency to think and act spontaneously rather than on fears based on past experiences.
An unmistakable ability to enjoy each moment.
A loss of interest in judging other people.
A loss of interest in judging self.
A loss of interest in interpreting the actions of others.
A loss of interest in conflict.
A loss of the ability to worry. (This is a very serious symptom.)
Frequent, overwhelming episodes of appreciation.
Contented feelings of connectedness with others and nature.
Frequent attacks of smiling.
An increasing tendency to let things happen rather than make them happen.
An increased susceptibility to the love extended by others as well as the uncontrollable urge to extend it.

Would that we might all catch it

The Kata of Peace

2008-07-16T17:47:00.000-07:00

There is much confusion over the nature of martial arts. A first and uninformed look would render the perception that the martial arts are all and only about violence. But there are many of us who practice for peace. Granted, the early martial arts were developed for hand-to-hand combat, for soldiers, and for self defense in a dangerous and violent world. In many instances they are still practiced with these same fundamentals in mind. In many cases we supplement competition for combat so we can continue to practice hard and still live. However, as the martial arts developed, particularly in China, they took on aspects of the healing arts such as Qi Gong and TCM, and incorporated religious philosophy, primarily Taoism. Fundamental to Taoism is the concept of going with the flow, not forcing things to happen. In Chinese martial arts we have the concept of zou, ju in Japanese. Zou is yielding. The Taiji Classics define zou as overcoming the strong and hard the gentle and soft way. The Japanese art of Jujitsu is translated as the gentle art, or the art of yielding. Aikido, which takes this distinction a step further, is known as the art of peace. The goal of Aikido is the unification of the fundamental creative principle, ki (Qi, or Chi, in Chinese), of the universe, with that same principle in each person. Such a unification is the antithesis of conflict. Whereas conflict identifies separate individuals, subject and object, unification sees all as one. In such a state conflict is not possible. Aikido, which came to real fruition post World War II, seeks to provide the student with the discipline of martial training, and the goals of spiritual practice, without the conflict of combat or competition.

Many of the tenets of Aikido are found in the ancient art of Taijiquan. Taijiquan is translated as Grand Extreme Boxing. Taiji, or Grand Extreme, is also known as Yin and Yang. Yin and Yang are the two primary forces of the universe. They arise from Wuji, or the void. Taijiquan practice seeks to work with these two forces and with the primordial Wuji. The return to Wuji is accomplished through meditation and a state of mind that seeks to find the empty in the solid, action in non-action, stillness in movement, and movement in stillness. This is the ultimate goal of Tajiquan. Master Jou, Tsung Hwa says to “aim to be peaceful inside in order to affect the outside. Gradually, the outer movements will reflect inner direction and total awareness (1).” This is a high spiritual awareness that is realized through a combination of movement and meditation, or better, meditative movement. Through the movements of the Taiji form we find ourselves in rhythm with the pulse of nature, and consequently identification with all creation. Again this provides an absence of us and them, subject and object, the root causes of conflict within the individual. If we see ourselves as one with others it is hard to be in conflict.

As practitioners of peace we still must recognize the existence of violence; the violence of the world, and the violence that is within us. Anything less would be foolish and contrary to our goal: a peaceful existence, a peaceful world. The individual forms and interactive practices of the martial arts provide a way to accomplish this. The tenets of Tajiquan and Aikido, yielding and non-aggression, are not natural reactions in times of stress. These are learned behaviors. We each have this wonderful, yet complicated built-in system we know as “fight or flight”. In times of stress or conflict, fight or flight is automatic. Sometimes it is best. But ultimately it is best controlled. Jesus preached to turn the other cheek, but the Bible doesn’t say how hard that can be. It doesn’t have to, we all know. It is difficult. But turning the other cheek, or yielding, can be taught and learned. External conflict often arises from internal conflict. And we all experience some degree of internal conflict. Even if we aren’t experiencing internal conflict, we can run headlong into another’s internal conflict, manifested externally. Rather than fighting fire with fire, we can fight fire with water; we can extinguish the flames. Internal and external conflict can be diffused with the proper approach. But this takes more than blind faith. It takes action as well; at least for some of us. Some of us have to unlearn our fight of flight responses and re-learn better, saner approaches to the conflict we encounter within, and may encounter without. We need to know how to diffuse, how to yield, and how to bring it to a quick and peaceful ending if it gets out of hand. This is not easy. This is the Kata of Peace.

(1) The Dao of Tajiquan, Way To Rejuvenation; Jou, Tsung Hwa; Tai Chi Foundation, 2001; pp. 201.

The Irony of Simplicity

2008-07-03T16:22:00.000-07:00

The practice of simplicity should be, well, simple. And I guess in actuality it is. It's us, the people attempting the practice, who are complicated and inconsistent. I have been interested in simplicity as a personal and spiritual discipline for some time. I first considered it because it is a cornerstone of my primary belief system, Quakerism. As I investigated it and attempted application in my life I found other disciplines related to and reliant on simplicity, primarily Buddhism and political anarchism/individualism--in the vein of Thoreau. Understanding and living the tenets of Quakerism are challenge enough for anyone, especially a borderline ADD, pseudo-packrat, ex-soldier, ex-honky tonk hero. So I naturally had to expand my horizons and explore other related disciplines to fully understand and apply simplicity. Discipline somehow got lost in the process.

Actually, while I have my challenges with trying to fill my life with as many interests as there are hours in the day (thus complicating things), I have applied many of the tenets of simplicity as I understand them. From my studies of Taoism and Taijiquan I have applied the idea of yielding, going with the flow, to many areas of life. Instead of trying to lay out and follow ridiculous plans, I now rely more on faith and right-mindedness. And while I'm sure I need to work at it, I do try to make time for my family, and for adequate down time.

Researching simplicity has given me reason to remember that we work to live, and shouldn't live to work, and that life is short and should be savored. That has inspired me to do things that I have wanted to do but have resisted for all kind of ridiculous reasons, such as take a class every now and then--just for the sake of doing it, get in a band--or two, take up martial arts, ride my motorcycle more, start a blog--or two. And before I know it my practice of simplicity is not so simple any more.

I think the key is in being mindful and cautious with desire. In the meantime I need to clear some of the clutter off my desk and coffee table and reading table and dining room table and dresser and workshop..... Perhaps I don't get it at all.

Alpha

2008-06-30T16:28:00.000-07:00

This is a beginning of sorts. It is my first post on this blog. But all beginnings are but continuations of some other previous beginning, or a return to some previously entertained idea. Thought is not as linear as we may believe. While Western tradition presents it as so, with the "I think, therefore I am" orientation, Eastern thought is grounded in a more universal, infinite foundation; in a world of no real beginnings or endings. This is the philosophy behind the "Enso" of Zen thought. Taoism says that we come from "Wuji", or the void, and will always return. Rather than "I think, therefore I am", Eastern philosophy posits "I am, therefore I think."

I am, needless to say, intrigued by and interested in Eastern philosophy. I am sure that will manifest itself in this journal. However, I do not and can not discount Western philosophy. I have another blog at http://sysan.rodneyjowen.com/ that is concerned with reason, economics, and politics that reflects my firm belief in rational thought, individualism, and human possibility. While many will see a dichotomy, I see none. Personal philosophy is just that, personal. The philosopher's goal is to search for synchronicity. My findings to that end may show up in these entries. But more likely this will serve as a forum for my thoughts of a mystical nature.