Over the past few years I've grown into the habit of taking days to focus mainly on my Taiji practice. I began the habit in China, where I lived without my family for nine months. Most of the time I taught, wrote, studied, and practiced Taiji.
Though the art of Taiji stresses relaxing and sinking, it also requires strength, energy, and focus. Strength is redefined though and not based on muscle exertion. Strength is based on the integration of correct posture, momentum, and knowledge of ones center in relationship to the body's movements. Working out everyday, I grew accustomed to my mid-day naps and with the practice the days always a strange feeling of having exerted myself fully, though it was different from the usual post-workout energy.
Though one can study Taiji a lifetime and there is a community, I tend towards a more isolated path. Some of that comes from my family and my conditions; but part of it is the art of Taiji. One stands alone upon the earth. Ones relationship with gravity is personal. The alignment of ones body, the degree of relaxation, the unity with the principles require as much attention as reading. When practicing Taiji one has to always be aware of feeling. In the beginning stages, I imagined that tension was feeling and that my exertion gave rise to a feeling that indicated how much strength I was using. I ran for years and even before that played soccer. For many years I practiced boxing. Taiji is an internal martial arts, and the idea of inner work can contrast with the popular idea of working out. When working out we imagine release. We feel as if we are getting rid of excess energy. Taiji's goal is to be effortless at one with energy and to release none without conscious intent. Taiji defines the practitioner's feelings of release without intent as waste.
It is possible to exert oneself with complete relazations, though the difficulty and the alignment of the body required to do so are demanding. One thinks of Taoism when one talks about Taiji. Words about it, seem like just words. One cannot discuss it without being clear about what words fail to convey. In this way, and in line with Taoism, one begins to understand the pitfalls of mind. When I teach my students at the University I often speak of mind in a way that mimics Bhuddist's thought-mind is elusive and difficult to tame. A Taiji practice helps one understand the connection between mind and body required to effectively practice something. It is not unique to Taiji. Boxers, and athletes have it. All of us to some degree utilize a connection between mind and body ( and to some degree spirit) in our everyday lives. What may make Taiji different is the degree of knowledge handed down from within the construct of Chinese culture and the many levels one can travel within the system towards higher states of unity. Some may doubt this, and that is cool. Taiji does not require conversion, but more so practice, a teacher, and the student's attentiveness in the practice.
It will be hard for Westerner's to imagine how integrated the Chinese system of philosophy and martial arts practice is. If one has watched a few movies, they know that many martial arts movements are wrapped in metaphor, mimic animal movements, and are woven into tails of sacred mountains, nature, along with rivalries and conflicts. It takes some of the imagination of the West to connect with such tales. The connections may seem odd and outlandish at times, though they almost always inspire some form of reverence. The conclusion that it is some deep stuff is not limited to the West. To work within the system and practice and contemplate its nuances gives rise to different states of consciousness and awareness.
Ones practice is always changing leading one further into the unknown, where the known one receives does not bolster the ego, but seems to destroy it. One is less confident about anything learned before in the face of each change. Learning is deconstructed. It is often hard to imagine that one ever knew what they knew. Though I don't understand fractal, the little I understand makes me want to call it fractal learning. Each level of new understanding seems to contain the same detail and complexity one perceived on the beginning levels, though ones understanding is radically different. I might also add, that the sense of accomplishment appears to dissolve to. Though one is occupied and engaged, the idea of results can easily become less specific, more muddled. One learns to follow the instructions and measure the changes based on feeling-the very thing we are taught not to trust. This aspect of the importance of feeling, may be in the end, what truly engages and fulfills those who practice often. For we are taught to not trust our feelings and view them as the opposite of the mind's rational. In this regard, Taiji learning teaches one that learning is somehow a union of feeling that is partially the result of mind's intent and work within the system. If one reads the Tao many times, this confusing concept will become clearer. Last, I must say, argument does not suffice and neither does explanation. Consistent practice is required to engage the material.
Recently a Facebook friend who is also an acupuncturist shared with me a series of meridian points to incorporate into my Taiji practice. The points he gave me: hui yin, da zhui, lao gong, ba hui, yong quan, guan yuan are embedded in the diagram above. Readers can look them up separately if they like. If one finds it overwhelming, its alright. Being overwhelmed and convinced of ones lack of knowledge is one of the best aspects of Taiji study. I am sure practitioner's of Ifa, Jazz, ancient Khemet, Western medicine, and IT all feel the same. The beauty of these systems teach humility through practice. One cannot practice and imagine they know everything. The systems mentioned above are not the only ones that demand a constant humility. Western science with its quest towards discovery and innovation demand the same.
With that said, my friends simple suggestions and instructions served as a gateway to a new mode in my practice. In some ways, I feel behind. I have studied for many years and am aware of energy, but not clear on the channels or specifics of points and the integration, but on the other hand, the integration of the concepts, the use of mind to focus on the points dramatically changed the flow of energy, the sense of wholeness. I've grown used to that feeling of being uprooted by the introduction of new concepts. There's no doubt it will occur for the rest of my life.
A Taiji practice develops in one energy awareness, and the meridian system is all about energy flowing in the body and the way in which its use, blockages, and flow contribute to health. Acupuncturists understand the systems of meridians and how those energy channels relate to overall health. Correct posture in Taiji develops energy awareness in sync with the meridians. A serious practitioner can combine knowledge of the two systems towards healing and better health.
Though the art of Taiji stresses relaxing and sinking, it also requires strength, energy, and focus. Strength is redefined though and not based on muscle exertion. Strength is based on the integration of correct posture, momentum, and knowledge of ones center in relationship to the body's movements. Working out everyday, I grew accustomed to my mid-day naps and with the practice the days always a strange feeling of having exerted myself fully, though it was different from the usual post-workout energy.
Though one can study Taiji a lifetime and there is a community, I tend towards a more isolated path. Some of that comes from my family and my conditions; but part of it is the art of Taiji. One stands alone upon the earth. Ones relationship with gravity is personal. The alignment of ones body, the degree of relaxation, the unity with the principles require as much attention as reading. When practicing Taiji one has to always be aware of feeling. In the beginning stages, I imagined that tension was feeling and that my exertion gave rise to a feeling that indicated how much strength I was using. I ran for years and even before that played soccer. For many years I practiced boxing. Taiji is an internal martial arts, and the idea of inner work can contrast with the popular idea of working out. When working out we imagine release. We feel as if we are getting rid of excess energy. Taiji's goal is to be effortless at one with energy and to release none without conscious intent. Taiji defines the practitioner's feelings of release without intent as waste.
It is possible to exert oneself with complete relazations, though the difficulty and the alignment of the body required to do so are demanding. One thinks of Taoism when one talks about Taiji. Words about it, seem like just words. One cannot discuss it without being clear about what words fail to convey. In this way, and in line with Taoism, one begins to understand the pitfalls of mind. When I teach my students at the University I often speak of mind in a way that mimics Bhuddist's thought-mind is elusive and difficult to tame. A Taiji practice helps one understand the connection between mind and body required to effectively practice something. It is not unique to Taiji. Boxers, and athletes have it. All of us to some degree utilize a connection between mind and body ( and to some degree spirit) in our everyday lives. What may make Taiji different is the degree of knowledge handed down from within the construct of Chinese culture and the many levels one can travel within the system towards higher states of unity. Some may doubt this, and that is cool. Taiji does not require conversion, but more so practice, a teacher, and the student's attentiveness in the practice.
It will be hard for Westerner's to imagine how integrated the Chinese system of philosophy and martial arts practice is. If one has watched a few movies, they know that many martial arts movements are wrapped in metaphor, mimic animal movements, and are woven into tails of sacred mountains, nature, along with rivalries and conflicts. It takes some of the imagination of the West to connect with such tales. The connections may seem odd and outlandish at times, though they almost always inspire some form of reverence. The conclusion that it is some deep stuff is not limited to the West. To work within the system and practice and contemplate its nuances gives rise to different states of consciousness and awareness.
Ones practice is always changing leading one further into the unknown, where the known one receives does not bolster the ego, but seems to destroy it. One is less confident about anything learned before in the face of each change. Learning is deconstructed. It is often hard to imagine that one ever knew what they knew. Though I don't understand fractal, the little I understand makes me want to call it fractal learning. Each level of new understanding seems to contain the same detail and complexity one perceived on the beginning levels, though ones understanding is radically different. I might also add, that the sense of accomplishment appears to dissolve to. Though one is occupied and engaged, the idea of results can easily become less specific, more muddled. One learns to follow the instructions and measure the changes based on feeling-the very thing we are taught not to trust. This aspect of the importance of feeling, may be in the end, what truly engages and fulfills those who practice often. For we are taught to not trust our feelings and view them as the opposite of the mind's rational. In this regard, Taiji learning teaches one that learning is somehow a union of feeling that is partially the result of mind's intent and work within the system. If one reads the Tao many times, this confusing concept will become clearer. Last, I must say, argument does not suffice and neither does explanation. Consistent practice is required to engage the material.
Recently a Facebook friend who is also an acupuncturist shared with me a series of meridian points to incorporate into my Taiji practice. The points he gave me: hui yin, da zhui, lao gong, ba hui, yong quan, guan yuan are embedded in the diagram above. Readers can look them up separately if they like. If one finds it overwhelming, its alright. Being overwhelmed and convinced of ones lack of knowledge is one of the best aspects of Taiji study. I am sure practitioner's of Ifa, Jazz, ancient Khemet, Western medicine, and IT all feel the same. The beauty of these systems teach humility through practice. One cannot practice and imagine they know everything. The systems mentioned above are not the only ones that demand a constant humility. Western science with its quest towards discovery and innovation demand the same.
With that said, my friends simple suggestions and instructions served as a gateway to a new mode in my practice. In some ways, I feel behind. I have studied for many years and am aware of energy, but not clear on the channels or specifics of points and the integration, but on the other hand, the integration of the concepts, the use of mind to focus on the points dramatically changed the flow of energy, the sense of wholeness. I've grown used to that feeling of being uprooted by the introduction of new concepts. There's no doubt it will occur for the rest of my life.
A Taiji practice develops in one energy awareness, and the meridian system is all about energy flowing in the body and the way in which its use, blockages, and flow contribute to health. Acupuncturists understand the systems of meridians and how those energy channels relate to overall health. Correct posture in Taiji develops energy awareness in sync with the meridians. A serious practitioner can combine knowledge of the two systems towards healing and better health.
