Tai chi is super duper so there....

It’s easy to complain about tai chi, (as you’ll know if you’ve been following my blog….) but despite my whinings, I feel it’s time to give this art its due. Which other art would have allowed me to explore martial questions without requiring a smart uniform and the bending of my stubborn will to that of an almighty “sensei”? I’ve never been particularly good at hierarchy. When I tried Judo at the age of thirteen, I was used merely as a test-dummy for those larger and more bellicose than myself, and I think that turned me off the martial arts for a long while.


Whilst tai chi has its pedants and its fanatics, it is an art which is growing still: there’s plenty of room for innovation, and each new generation gets to figure out anew just what tai chi means to them.

I love (and at times, hate) the fact that tai chi to most people just looks like some nutty hippy dance-thing, and that people find it ridiculous, because it means I know something they don’t about the effectiveness, precision and intent of the art. No-one is likely to say “You do tai chi: reckon you’re a bit tough then?”…and that’s the great thing, you don’t have to think of yourself as tough. You can just be, as Ian calls it, “the grey man”, and melt into the martial background. I love that the teachers who brought tai chi within my reach were and are hardy and earthy, real people: you’ll find no ethereal snake-oil merchants in our lineage. We’re not training to be killers; but neither are we training to be saints.

I like to play, and tai chi gives me, a thirty one year-old man, the excuse to play for hours every week, to mess about with swords, spears, body mechanics and wildly imagined scenarios of every kind. It’s a game, it’s a craft and it’s an art. It is driven by the highest aspirations, yet is completely everyday and ordinary. There are many worse ways to spend your time, that’s for sure.

Hurrah then, for tai chi chuan.



Next time: back to the customary bemoaning and beefing...

Get off your land!

So it seems that the Man will soon be charging us for the use of the ground, and the very air that we breathe. If you check out the link below, you'll see that a London Council is charging fitness
trainers a fee for the use of public park space. This could be bad news for any of you tai chi teachers out there who prefer the Great Outdoors, because great money-making ideas like this tend to spread like wildfire to other councils keen to appear "frugal"...
I love the tone of the beginning of the article, which envisages personal trainers as some kind of wealthy parasite, cackling as Joe Public  forks money out of his threadbare pockets with a pained,confused look: "HAHAHA! WE DON'T PAY BUSINESS RATES SUCKERRRS!HA!" These blackhearted instructors are the new bankers, in my opinion, and are not to be trusted. As our American cousins say... Sheesh.

 
 


http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-england-london-13195576

A New Movement

Tai chi chuan is a fighting method: a way of movement in the face of conflict. It isn’t limited to fixed step Pushing Hands, which in itself is training for a mere microsecond’s worth of confrontation, when the adversary first makes contact. It isn’t contained in competition sparring, which has some of the adrenaline and force of a “real” situation, but which lacks the surprise, versatility, openness and the brevity of most likely real situations. Sparring is the “death ground” alluded to in the Sun Tzu, where we have no option but to go toe-to-toe. According to Sun-Tzu, it is to be avoided. Good to do whilst one is young and full of fire, and then good to stop doing. The method of tai chi certainly isn’t contained in the “push the Master in a particular way and he sends you sailing through the air” scenario which abounds in the tai chi world. Absorbing and sinking is good, but try it against a punch, a kick, or a combination of the above. Something more will be needed, namely movement, flowing, thinking-in-all angles movement. Evasion is required, then control of the opponent, then disrupting his balance whether by striking, pulling, sweeping or throwing. To achieve this, listening skills will be needed. Structure will be needed, to make contact without collapsing. The feet really will need to move through the “eight gates” and the hands will need to be able to work together, to work separately, be coordinated with the feet, and apply torque to shock the opponent. It won’t be enough to work on one plane of movement. High and low are needed. Different ranges appear, and sometimes you’ll have no choice but to cover up and take a hit, but all the while moving, brushing past, so as to force the opponent to change angles. Even as he hits you, it’s possible for him to hurt himself if you can manage simultaneous attack and defence.

I say all this because one never reads it, never really hears about it in the tai chi world. Handforms, chi gung, tame Pushing Hands: all these get plenty of press. But the amount of people who assert that tai chi is standing in one place slowly gyrating arms with someone, or feeling for their “centre“, or assert that tai chi is stretching and turning for health far outnumber those who ask how does it really work? Merely copying drills won’t do it. Learning all the applications of the form won’t do it. However much Handform you do, that certainly won’t do it. That’s not to say that these things don’t have worth, and aren’t enjoyable. But aren’t you curious when Four Directions is used? Does it work as it is, “off the peg” as it were? Do any of the fixed or moving drills? Or do they need adapting, breaking down or reversing even? What is Reeling Silk for? Defence against punches, or grabs, or what? What is the link between applications and drills? What is the worth of Fixed Step given that your typical assailant may not be fixed in place as he attacks? What is the difference between a fist and an open hand? What really constitutes a “fight”? Why might “natural” or “subtle” movement be better in a conflict in terms of the law? How does the Handform link in to all this?

Many people, of course, are asking these questions and really mining the rich seams of tai chi chuan. Their voices, by and large, are silent. But please, if you have any light to shed on the real questions of tai chi, it would be excellent to hear about your work, compare notes and see if we can move this art along a little. I personally am ready for some new movement.

The Technique of No-technique

 There are those kung- fu wisdom snippets about "technique of no-technique" or "fighting without fighting" and I have never regarded them as more than fortune-cookie nonsense. But they come near to some of the work we've been doing in our Friday night sessions of late.

We've been attempting to boil the syllabus down into essentials, based on honest enquiry and our own experiences of a martial kind. What is tai chi, when you take away the cultural trappings, the philosophies and the mythologies? We have by no means arrived at an answer yet, nor do I suppose we ever will; at least nothing that can be formulated neatly, concisely or even verbally.

It isn't about striking. That doesn't mean there isn't percussion, but it's part of the moving, part of the evasion, part of taking or destroying the oponent's balance. It's not fixing in one place and attacking, then moving on. It's not really grappling, though again this may happen.

As Western boxers have known for years, you fight with your feet, and this is nothing necessarily to do with sweeping or kicking, though those might appear. There's nothing formulaic about it. The recent Sherlock Holmes film, in which Sherlock pre-plans how exactly he will strike and defeat his opponent five "moves" in advance, is how many people perhaps envisage the process of the martial arts. This is because we are taught discrete "techniques": he does this, so you do that. Tai chi chuan is as guilty of this as any other art. But the trouble is that, instead of reacting to what's hapening, we attempt to shoehorn various techniques in to the proceeedings to show what we have learnt, and to please the teacher. But the martial arts is only about reacting to exactly what is happening, not defeating someone according to some pre-ordained "style" "school" or "technique". So we are cutting away technique, to see what we are left with. We are ditching the flow-chart and heading out into open water. I'll let you know how it's going.

What I did on my holidays

The usual "if you couldn't give a monkey's about Buddhism change channels now" warning applies...

If you've read much of what I write, you'll know that I don't have much truck with much of what passes for "spirituality" around these parts. So it was with some trepidation that I made my way to Gaia House in Devon for a three day retreat with two teachers, Vinny Ferraro and Noah Levine.

Being a Zen practitioner, I was expecting this retreat to be...well, a bit lame. A bit hippy-ish maybe. But I'd been curious about Gaia House for a while, and at the moment I am on a bit of a  personal rumspringa , which is an Amish thing where youngsters venture out into the world to see if they want to become full-on Amish or not. Only I'm doing it with Zen, if you get my meaning, by trying out other teachings.

These two rip-roaring teachers,along with my fellow participants, treated me to a weekend-and-a-bit of the most inspiring, useful and goddamned heartfelt practice I've ever done.
My Zen practice has become a little stale, you see, which is no-one's fault but my own.It's become rather a chore, whilst at the same time I'm reaching a point with it where the expectation is that I commit to some degree. Like one of my heroes, Alan Watts, "temperamentally I'm not a joiner". So I have been wrestling with the idea of commitment.

Whilst I'm still not sure about pledging my allegiance, what has been made clear to me is that Buddhist practice is a thing of real value, and real sustenance.

If you don't know anything about these two guys, check out Noah's books "Dharma Punx" and "Against the Stream" as well as a new one that I have yet to read called "The Heart of the Revolution." Vinny apparently has been involved in an MTV production called "If Only You Knew Me" which I've yet to see. Both of them led mixed-up lives as youngsters, getting involved in petty crime and drug misadventures of all kinds. You get the feeling that their involvement with Buddhism is a survival thing, a literal matter of life and death rather than some shallow spiritual trip. You might expect, given their pasts, for them to be somewhat spikey, but I have to say that rarely have I met anyone so open-hearted and kind-natured as these two. Their passion for the teachings, and their black humour and outlook really opened my eyes to what Dharma practice can be: never has "loving-kindness" seemed so cool (!).

Now and then, it's great to take a step outside what you know and see what's on offer.

Buddhist ramblings over and out.

Spiritual Tai Chi II : this time it's internal

This is one of those topics that I just can't enough of. Recently,we had a beginner come and try out the class who had left ninjitsu and come to tai chi for the "healing and spiritual side of things." Though I didn't say anything at the time (it's best for me not to get started on this subject...oops), I always want to know what exactly  is meant by this word which haunts tai chi like an exorcism-resistant poltergeist. I wonder if (and it's a big wonder) people just mean they want to feel what they are doing? Is it that other martial arts tend to numb people to their own bodily sensations? Certainly, those teachers who promote the spiritual angle do seem to do a lot of standing still and feeling their qua or whatever. Inevitably, demonstrations of qi involve standing still and paying attention to the body...Have I cracked it?Is it that simple? No-one ever says "oh, I want to learn magic." This, I think, would be more honest. It's not that I don't think that nothing myterious or inexplicable exists, but I am tempted always to think "so what"? Does it make your life better? Does it make anyone else's life better? This is what interests me. I don't like to weigh in with the Zen quotes, but this one I can't resist:

"When Bankei was preaching at Ryumon temple, a Shinshu priest, who believed in salvation through the repetition of the name of the Buddha of Love, was jealous of his large audience and wanted to debate with him.



Bankei was in the midst of a talk when the priest appeared but the fellow made such a disturbance that Bankei stopped his discourse and asked about the noise.

‘The founder of our sect,' boasted the priest, ‘had such miraculous powers that he held a brush in his hand on one bank of the river, his attendant held up a paper on the other bank, and the teacher wrote the holy name of Amida through the air.

Can you do such a wonderful thing?'

Bankei replied lightly: 'Perhaps your fox can perform that trick, but that is not the manner of Zen. My miracle is that when I feel hungry I eat, and when I feel thirsty I drink.'

This from an interview with Luke Shepherd, a tai chi teacher, on the Tai Chi Union For Great Britain website:

http://www.taichiunion.com/meet/lukeshepard.php

What are your views on competition?






"Did you say contemplation or competition? Theoretically, competition could be valuable to test one’s level, if seeking to ascertain if internal practice is truly taking place. Unfortunately, all competitions are judged by external methods i.e. the first to step outside the lines. This may be achieved with either exquisite internal skill or with brute force with no differentiation being made in the points scored. When I see a school has won competitions, I am rarely impressed, as I have no way of knowing if subtle jins are being trained and refined or if the competitors are relying on well co-ordinated contraction and timing to off balance their partner.


I hear of people winning medals after 5-7 years training. Unless they are exceptionally gifted it must be obvious that with this limited training they are using external strength and contracting forces to overpower their opponents. Is this what the classics ask us to train?


To develop stretched elastic forces takes many years of internal mind and body training. To be able to co-ordinate these internal changes (without reverting back to external contracting ie muscular habits) with the timing of one’s partner takes many more years. To empty one’s mind of any idea of pushing and to allow the partner’s force to passively stretch the body takes further training and faith in the deepening process. Will we gain deeper understanding through encouraging the winning of medals – whatever force is used to obtain them?"



First of all, let me make it clear that Mr Shepherd has some twenty years experience over me, and that I have no wish to question his skill, or his commitment to good tai chi chuan.

But I have to take strong exception to many of the points raised above.

 To suggest that “physical” accomplishment can somehow be trumped by something vague and insubstantial is wrong. These words "internal" and "external" make real problems, because they create the illusion that there are somehow two "worlds" in which we practise. The first is the seemingly distasteful, crude and amateurish "physical" world of "well co-ordinated contraction and timing", basically muscles, bones, sinews, leverage, range, timing and intent. Then there's the other world of subtlety, refinement, exquisite skill, and...what exactly? This thinking demonstrates a real Cartesian duality which ill reflects reality. This kind of thinking leads people to tai chi thinking that there is some kind of “power” or “energy” that they should be training. The truth is much simpler: use the body. Use your common sense. Try things out. Lose a lot.

To train skill is to use the muscles, and to use force. Certainly, one can learn to refine the way the force is applied, but if you aren't strong enough to withstand a bit of heave-ho, then you haven't even covered the basics. I will be frank here. To say that you are working “internally”, but are unable to display or enact that work is a good way of doing nothing but pretending that you are. Winning is winning, whether by force or by guile. As martial artists, we are looking to survive conflict by whatever means are pragmatic, and this applies to competitions as well.

I understand. Saying that you have learnt good leverage and balance does not sound very romantic, or glamorous. Understanding range, timing and movement doesn't appear very grand; in all likelihood, it won't attract many new acolytes. But that is what tai chi chuan consists of. Make no mistake. I'm not reducing tai chi chuan to "just" or “merely” the physical: what I'm saying is that the wonderful quality of tai chi is trained through our physicality, not through our concepts. "I am more refined: I should win" is a concept often clung to by tai chi practitioners, even as they are being flung about like ragdolls by uncouth barbarians.

The training and refining of subtle jin is the same as the training of well-coordinated contraction and timing; if there is no ability to attack and defend, whether the opponent uses "external strength" or not, then there is no tai chi ability. Full stop.

Thanks to Mr Shepherd for his comments, and if he should read this, I hope no offense has been caused.