Category: Training

I am the book; the book is me

Posted on By Serena

Ever since I got back from my April 2017 trip to visit my Sifus in Toronto — and then opened my Kungfu school — I had the idea that I would write a practice diary and give it to my sifus as a gift to let them know I was still training every day.

The fact is, we can’t spend more time together and don’t keep in touch because of the diametric difference in time and distance.

Then I broke my hand and couldn’t practice and had to give up my school. It’s now six months later and my hand is basically okay — it will take another month or two to get really better — but at least I can start practicing again.

The funny thing is, I didn’t practice as much as I wanted, this last six months. I mean, I had health problems — serious health problems, an accident, some kidney stones, I fell, I had repetitive stress injuries. Things like that. It’s been hard.

I still have the moleskin desk diary I bought to record my progress. It’s empty. I’ve thought about all the things I would write in it many times. But the truth is it will probably remain empty, forever. What is the point of such a book? I am the book. If I am lucky enough to spend time with my sifus again I will show them the book — me. That’s all that really matters in the end. And I feel completely inadequate in every way.

Such a difficult road

I know the deal. I know the rules of the game. How is it possible to get to there from here? It doesn’t seem possible. Forty minutes of that. An hour of this. A form, another form, a form and a form. Another style. I know all the important exercises, all the important routines. If not, then what remains is surely recoverable from what I know. I’m not saying I know everything, but to say that at this point I do not know what to do is a mistake. I know what I need to do.

But it feels so empty, it feels so difficult, how can it really work? How can it get me to where I want to go?

Once more I plunge into that hopeless darkness. This time I pray that I have the courage to continue. I’ve had accidents — broken bones, impact shocks from accidents, falls, stress injuries. Is this my last chance? Or is it too late for that? Either way I still have to wait 20 years to know for sure. Why does this feel like starting over? It’s not supposed to be like starting over.

It was supposed to be easier than this.

Wu Style Six Stages

Posted on By Serena

At 14:00, the following is said: ‘Tai Chi has six stages. Form, stance, will, chi, power and spirit.’

I like this way of explaining progress in Taijiquan and I find it to gel nicely with what I was taught in the other three major styles. I find it has a particular emphasis for beginners which is helpful. I think this formula should become more well known especially because of that — it helps beginners see not only where they should go, but helps them see where they are now. Thus it is accessible and thus more useful than some other formulas, for beginners.

形 勢 意 氣 勁 神

Here is my explanation of each word in the formula.

形 (xíng) – Shape (form)

First the beginner must learn the form. This means the person knows the basic long form and can execute the movements to a certain degree of flavor with a minimum of aji. In short, the beginner is able to practice the form on his own for his own benefit.

勢 (shì) – Stance (power; force; tendancy)

In this stage the player is no longer a true beginner but knows the form well and works on understanding the form a bit better. This can take many forms. Perhaps they do a little standing meditation or qigong to accelerate form development. Perhaps they work on breathing. Perhaps they learn settling or posing techniques from their instructor. In any case, from the tendancy to do the movements over and over comes a familiarity, a second level, where the student becomes extremely comfortable in the form and begins to express that familiarity in various ways.

意 (yì) – Will (mind; intention, attention)

When the student begins to pay attention to his body naturally (since he no longer needs to consciously remember how to do the form step by step) he may focus on the internal sensations he gets. How this is done is a matter of taste and style but I am of the school that they should be observed but not touched, other than to stay relaxed and serene (i.e. ‘attention’ to the inner workings). This is what it means to put your mind on your movements and to think about your body and to use your mind during practice. During this stage the player may begin to notice sensations of qi, but they will only be glimpses and shadows until the player can reach the next stage.

氣 (qì) – Chi (gas)

Sun Jian-Yun’s lecture on Nuturing the Small is a great way of understanding this stage. Once the player has begun to put his mind on the movements this is the ‘collecting’ and ‘merging’ stage. In this stage one can use the mind to increase density.

勁 (jìn) – Power (strong, unyielding, tough, powerful)

Practicing properly in-line with qigong development will lead to the stage of various jins. It is then possible to accquire ting jin, etc.

神 (shén) – Spirit (refined martial spirit)

Once one practices with, learns, accquires and then forgets the various jins, another level is reached where jins are no longer an important mechanic. From this stage you can explore the true skills and mechanics in Taijiquan.

Thoughts

I think that it is interesting that in any such formula as this the basic assumption is that it is the result of doing the long form and push hands over time. Yes, you build on each level, but ultimately it is the result of long form practice.

Disclaimer

This is just my personal take on it. I don’t do Wu style, but I would sincerely love to learn. I’ve probably made some errors in interpretation compared to how the Wu family teaches this.

Diary of a Failure (Part 2)

Posted on By Serena

Almost “Getting it”

It was ten years ago today that my friend finally discovered his own Qi. Good for him. He had a quantum breakthrough understanding of his martial arts. That is good. But several strange things happened over the ensuing years which bothered me. He would complain of strange injuries he would get from forms and pushing hands. He would pull a muscle in his hand while kicking. He would have an inexplicable problem with his hand or arm joints in push hands. In hindsight I view this as a sort of “chi sickness”. My theory is that he was involved in too many arts. He probably picked something up, some sort of general understanding, but it was not deep enough and his familiarity with tai chi (etc.) simply was not there. Many key points of internal and neijia training were simply not there or were very unclear. For example, I remember once when we discussed the importance of forms. He did not understand the concept of why the form was so important. I recall reading the Tao Te Ching, chapters 9, 10, 11, 13, 14, 17, and many others, speak of the way to practice Tai Chi. But somehow he did not seem to have learned these lessons, or lacked a teacher who was able to explain them — either in simple terms or from the classics. As a result, he had many troublesome points of understanding. Yet he worked so hard. I wondered, if it would be enough for him. But, the point here is that the basic understanding of theory doesn’t seem to have been taught to him.

No respect for Kung Fu

In retrospect I think I can sum up many of his problems from pulling one idea out of the part 1 post. He had very little respect for traditional ways. In Dai Family Xingyiquan there is a saying, “Three years of standing, and two years of walking”. This refers to the incredible amounts of time required to train the internal shenfa and come to properly express it in taolu. My friend would always say that was bullshit. That kind of attitude never sat well with me. I always felt we should respect the old masters — we owe it to ourselves to try and follow their guidance since we do not know enough yet ourselves. Some things cannot be rushed, and often even when one feels he is making progress, he is not. Sometimes it comes in waves and doesn’t mater what you know or what you trained. It is in those moments I myself have realized that the only thing that mattered is that I was training for a certain length of time, at a certain intensity. Hard work over time. That was the only factor. But before such a realization it always seemed so important what I was training. Perhaps it is a combination of both. One cannot leave out the kung fu or getting it is impossible.

For me, personally, I am scared that if I put in the hard work it will be fruitless. This is because I am older now and if I fail in this try I only will have one more chance, at best. It is different for me than for someone younger. Perhaps being younger my friend had a more careless attitude. Perhaps this youthful reckless carelessness was the culprit. At least, a contributor. For me, to have youth again would be a great comfort because I would have time to devote myself to a wrong path out of love for my sifus — should for any reason I make a mistake in my understanding of their teaching — and would have more time to correct myself.

The Fall

Looking back I can identify the first major fall he took. He began filling in the blanks. Once it became acceptable to him to make judgements about how past masters trained, and the time and effort they put into their kungfu, it became also acceptable to start making things up about how internal arts worked and how they were supposed to function. Since he could apparently “feel his qi”, this made him an expert on almost everything, and he closed himself off from future learning.

I remember one event in particular when we were discussing how jing and shen was taught in taijiquan and he told me that you absolutely must be taught the specific visualizations for the particular series of jings at every stage of the tai chi form. This, obviously, is rubbish to anyone who knows taijiquan at a higher level. There are no such visualizations which are required for anything. There are visualizations, but they are not always specific and not always required. They likely come from other arts like xingyi and were added in later — I’d always known this to be bleed-over from other arts and qigong sets. But he believed it and felt that any tai chi that didn’t have visualizations of jing and so forth was a waste of time. He also didn’t believe in practicing the form for more than one hour a day. It was difficult to talk to him at this point because he was more interested in just spewing out whatever came into his head about tai chi and internal martial arts. It was already too late to reach him. I wasn’t skilled enough to show him either. This was my failing, a failing I one day hope to recover from. It will be a difficult task. One of the things he began doing shortly before the end is criticizing multi-decade Tai Chi lineage holders for how they practiced. I knew then it would not be too long before he gave up. He had lost his connection to the source. Maybe he would land safely in xingyi — maybe he would catch some Dai family and it would shake him up a little. I didn’t know, but I had hope.

Missing the point

My friend began to miss the point. Why was he doing the form? What was it supposed to do, exactly, Why train sword? Why do push hands? It’s just wrestling right? Look at all these people pushing and shoving. This is the way to get what works? Soon he became so disillusioned he had to take a break. I didn’t see him for about a month. When he came back he confided something in me which I will never forget. He told me he didn’t really get it. He told me he didn’t really understand the internal arts. That whenever he got frustrated in push hands against someone who was far above him in skill he would try to win with external techniques — roughing it up a bit so to speak. But strangely, this admission was not an admission of sorrow, regret, or guilt. He had embraced it. He felt he had found the secret. I could not believe how far he had fallen.

There is another thing that struck me about him. Throughout all of this time he would give a running commentary about why people didn’t get internal arts, how they didn’t have a good teacher, weren’t introspective enough, how certain people were no good because of x y or z, how Western people could never understand kungfu and why, and so on. But all of it applied to him. Read another way it was almost a confession. I began to feel sorry for him. If only he would listen to me. I could teach him everything. It was so simple. So easy. All he had to do was trust me. But he had already made his decision, and it was not my place to speak up. I could tell in his heart he was preparing the way for him to admit he did not believe that IMA were even real. And then quit. Probably for BJJ.

The Reprise

My friend surprised me. He began an in-depth study of past masters. He read everything he could get his hands on. He talked with people. He went and met people. Through this he met a sifu he eventually baishi’d to a year or so later. He gave it one last shot. I was relieved. I thought this time, he would do the work, this time, he would listen to his teachers, this time would be different. But shortly after he had begun with his new teacher he began telling me many stories of Chen Man Ching’s secret teachings, secrets of the Yang family, Tai Chi secrets and so forth. Facepalm. Now he was being led down the garden path in an entirely new way. I knew if this continued, when he fell flat on his face he would finally break. This time he would feel lied to, defrauded, and perhaps rejected. Now that he had been let in on some lineage’s “secret” qigong (oh boy… eyerolls extreme…) there was no turning back. If he didn’t “get it”, then it must not exist. Or worse, that the Chinese would never teach their secrets to an outsider.

He really bit in hard. He reversed his position on science being applicable to CMA and qigong, he idolized past masters, and he searched for wisdom wherever he could find it. After all this time he had finally been taught the very basic push hands exercises for ting jin in a somewhat proper manner. No bullshit. But to him it was new, an eye opener. Perhaps because of this he was unable to accept it’s importance.

Some part of him just didn’t agree. Ultimately I think he decided deep in his heart he just didn’t “believe” — whatever that even means. And he said so. He was calm and cool about it. He confided to me my worst fears. All along, he thought the IMA and it’s training methods were complete bullshit. I asked him what he was doing baishi’d into a lineage that did all three major IMA. I’ll never forget his answer:

This (what we do in his school) is real Tai Chi, we don’t go in for any of that “secret” bullshit.

We use force as well as emptiness. It’s yin and yang. Not all yin like those other Tai Chi people. We spar in push hands and we spar using valid techniques from many CMA. (This was a repeat of the embrace of failure mentioned above.)

I was dumbstruck. In one fell swoop he threw out all the traditional training methods, all of the word formulas and songs, the concept of qi, proper relaxation, nurturing the small, mind intent, qigong, and so forth. And what did he replace it with?

Basically? Wrestling, shuai jiao, judo, I guess, in a word. Basically his practice was to mimic the external forms and go through the motions in push hands, until he felt some opening and then use hard, external force to apply technique. He would take moves directly out of shuai jiao or judo and use them with or without the opponent’s consent. He had no idea of “leader” and “follower”. He would just resist, and use the shock of it to distract (feint) and set up a throw. This was ‘fa jing’. He was at this point beyond reach and beyond help because although he had some experience with qi and sensitivity, his tai chi had become permanently corrupted by what he knew from other arts. In a sense he was unable to let go of his other knowledge and learn the tai chi way. He wanted to learn HIS way, which was picking and choosing whatever move, shape, form, or energy he could from everything he knew and putting it into push hands like it belonged there. He didn’t even understand the point of push hands. It was a total train wreck. About this time, we stopped talking. That was many years ago. I haven’t seen him now for many years.

From what I remember he lost a lot of friends over his decision, actually. A lot of the more traditional people he hung out with began to stop talking to him. About this time he would start to go more and more back to judo, aikido, and finally MMA classes. He had made a strange decision, despite being baishi’d, to leave his lineage and study Judo and MMA. Hey whatever works. I am not calling him a traitor and I don’t think he made a mistake necessarily. I don’t want to paint it like that. But I did notice that after a while he stopped blogging and posting about his martial arts. He started blogging about other stuff. MMA, fitness. Playing musical instruments. Going out with friends. After a while like this the blog disappeared. I guess he took it down, didn’t see the point anymore.

Why did he Quit? Why didn’t he get it? Why couldn’t I help him? Am I a fool for believing? Did he know something I didn’t know?

Ultimately as I look back on his life and the things he was involved with I come to three very distinct conclusions about why he quit IMA after being so deeply involved with it. Why he felt it was useless. Why he made a switch.

  1. The culture of IMA, Tai Chi in particular, is not appealing. Frankly it is difficult to find good push hands partners. Many tai chi people do it for health. Etc. Not conductive to your average martial artist.
  2. He simply did not put in the required effort. Unfortunately this is more true than he and even I would like to believe. The fact is, money matters to a lot of people. And as it is said, it is dangerous to try and become stronger. If you fail, can you support your family? Not everyone can train six or even four hours a day. We have jobs and families. For some it is possible but they would rather play their videogames, have their guitar or their piano, or have their friday nights our with the boys. Some people just like drinking and smoking. Some people just don’t really want the kung fu. They would simply rather do something else.
  3. He did not specialize. Kungfu requires specialization and true honestly not just with oneself but a with a deep understanding of the theory and practice of the art. How much history did he know? How deeply did he understand Tai Chi (or any one of the literally 10 different arts he was interested in)?
  4. I was not good enough to demonstrate traditional skills and thus gain the credibility I needed to teach him the proper way. This is entirely my fault and a result of my own poor attitude and poor practice.

In the end I believe these were the three greatest contributions to his failure as an internal martial artist.

Within a year or so after getting involved with MMA he quit MMA and closed his blog. He doesn’t come around here anymore. I don’t even know if he lives in Taiwan anymore.

I wish I was strong enough to help him or to show him a better way. But I am not strong, I am just a beginner.

Diary of a Failure (Part 1)

Posted on By Serena

A certain friend of mine, who started on down a similar path of honest exploration and development in world of Chinese Internal Martial Arts, shall remain nameless.

He had studied under several people who should have otherwise known what they were doing.

It certainly seemed as if he was checking all the boxes. Doing all the forms. Pushing hands with all the right people.

But over the years, I began to notice a serious problem developing. And then came the end. He gave up Tai Chi and began practicing what might otherwise be called external martial arts.

Without getting into too many details I will record my general impression of what happened based my observations and conversations we had over the years.

Disclaimer

One, this post isn’t finished yet. Two, this is not about one person in particular. Three, the purpose is to shed light on my own failures in life. I wouldn’t call it autobiographical, but rather a cautionary tale. An Aesop’s Appledog’s Fable.

Did not recognize the value of learning more than one form of Taijiquan.

No biggie. But I noticed it. I personally know three different styles of Taijiquan and within that I know at least two different forms in each style. I can tell you that I have received incredible value in each style. When I initially went from Yang to Chen I thought I could leave Yang style behind forever, but I was wrong. I now see value in some of the moves that merit practice. Then when I learned Sun style I thought it was next to useless, but as I learned it I realized how valuable it was. I also have learned variations of several forms, especially in Chen style and moreso in Yang. I see incredible value in these experiences. However, this person did not at the time see any value in more than one or two long forms. I will also point out that this person showed a strange lack of awareness and appreciation for the history and development of Taijiquan as it was passed down through the Chens, Yangs, et cetera, through the Japanese invasion, Cultural revolution, etc.

Even if you do not concurrently practice more than one style of Tai Chi, don’t sell yourself short; don’t get stuck in a rut. Sometimes, perspective is everything.

All over the place in other arts.

Perhaps most striking considering the above was his willingness to explore non-taichi arts; practices such as Yoga, Xingyi, Bagua, whatever. You name it! He eventually found himself baishi’d into a lineage that practiced a series of different martial arts as well. Not suprising. There’s nothing wrong with this per se, it can be done. But based on what I was able to glean from his forms, he did not have a firm foundation in the theory and practice of the basic shenfa of the arts he was practicing. I would say he had a wide but not deep experience with the arts he did. The lack of depth began to show in strange and unexpected ways. Several of the things he commented on showed a lack of experience and knowledge one would expect from someone who had done a lifetime of research into the available material. For example, he apparently was one of the “doesn’t believe in qi” people. I am certain the amount of cross-pollination he was willing to do was limiting his development in any one style.

Fundamental lack of information and knowledge of Qi.

One of the most striking things I picked up on was that this person talked about the arts like they had absolutely no idea what Qi was, even going so far as to give a throw in of support of sorts with the Martial Tai Chi/Joanna Zorya crowd. This was the first major red flag that something was up. Someone in this person’s position should have already reached that level of development. The confusion over it told me something was very likely wrong with the training regimen. The funny thing is that he told me that he has felt qi before, but with the caveat that qi is subjective, and that what he has felt he doesn’t want to explain because it’s different for everybody. In a way I am still undecided on his qi experiences, but remaining unsold in this case would be a strike against him here. The final weight was the way in which he would ask questions and puzzle over certain topics as if he didn’t know the answer and then, in the end, fail to provide a clear and strong answer to that same question. When I see people doing this I call it “puzzling”, or “fishing” for answers. I feel that they do it because they feel unsure about what they know, which tells me they haven’t put in the time and effort to figure it out, or haven’t been taught properly, or both. Of course, I can’t see into his stomach so I don’t know what he really ate. Just an impression.

Strange Fascination with applying Western Science to Chinese Martial Arts

Over and over I noticed that a lack of knowledge of the traditional way was being replaced by (or fueled by) a desire to re-examine the traditional way and understand it in the manner of western scientific thinking, Western sports-medicine knowledge, and so forth. I will explain another time why this is a damaged approach in order to keep this post short. Remind me if I forget.

Promotion of “Free-form Shoving Hands” in the guise of Push Hands

Several times he would comment that what amounted to yanking, bracing, clinching and and shoving was good push hands. A second major red flag. This is particularly ironic since he claimed to have some skill and success in push hands when practicing vs. various people (despite his inability to produce or feel qi). However again I will caution that when pressed he seems to give an explanation of push hands which is in-line with what it says in the classics. It’s odd, that there seems to be a sort of blind inclusiveness to his writings on push hands — as long as it isn’t direct force against force with tension supporting the force, it is useful.

Fascination with Technical Details

One thing which popped out at me was a repeated over-analysis of technical details, which showed me he was stuck at a clear-force / obvious expression stage.

See: part 2 (next)

The Kettlebell

Posted on By Serena
Just a cheap little 12kg Kettlebell
Say hello to my little friend.

I’ve been interested in Kettlebells for quite some time as a sort of weight training device which was closer in principle to Taijiquan than dumbells, barbells, and larger weight equipment. Promises of training the “core” were what attracted me, and the “whole body” workout you could get with just a couple of simple exercises really appealed to my knowledge of Taijiquan. However I was (and remain) skeptical because I know what spot training will do to me and my precious sensations during practice.

So I bought a 4kg kettlebell to try it out, then quickly realized that was a mistake because I should start with a heavier weight. This 12kg kettlebell is on the low end of recommended starting weights for an adult male. So I’m going to try a basic “simple and sinister” workout. Ten sets of ten swings and five sets of two Turkish get-ups (one on each side).

I’ve already noticed, however, that I bought the wrong kettlebell. This one’s horns are too wide to do halos. I mean, I can do the halos, but it bothers my hand. It’s kind of annoying. The kettlebell was less than $1000 NTD (about $30 US) so it was relatively cheap, no big loss, and it’s still a great looking kettlebell. It will just annoy me to buy a different one. Even if I use them together I am betting one will be slightly heavier and it will annoy me.

Well, that’s life. I guess I’ll buy a different brand of kettlebell when I start looking for a heavier bell.

The New Place

Posted on By Serena

It took a month of searching but finally the new place is ready. It’s a 1,300 square foot area, training area about 1,000 square feet. I could teach five or ten people in here. Currently I have one student who comes once a week, which is something, but I think I will express to him that he should come more often. Maybe I will just offer him to come every day.

In the month since I came back from Toronto I didn’t practice very often. The shock of a new environment once again dragged me back into old patterns. However I have many things to look forward to. I don’t smoke or drink anymore, at all. Before I would smoke and drink only a little bit. But at this time it is all gone. This is a great headwind for me but it will be temporary, I must work hard. Second, of course, I have my new place and the teachings I have received. One, what I have been taught is still with me, I can do it. Also I know I am willing to push myself to practice and remember it all. But this door that my teachers have given me is a difficult one. I can get back to where I was and perhaps go further this time but it will not be easy. As I work myself into this new way of living there are two things I meditate on. One is the difficulty of my new path. A fellow player wrote it on his blog and I would like to share here.

It is said that a teacher can only lead one to finding the door.
Its up to oneself to walk though it.
One must be clear otherwise many years of practice is of no use. It may take many tries to find the right door.
Often its not the door we think or want.
Its the door that is, waiting.
Out there with out thinking or wanting… its there. Like the broom waiting for one to put it to use. Not quite finished the sweeper of the mind, waits for the mind it sweeps.journeytoemptiness.com “Finding the door”

This helped me remember some of the things my sifu said. Such as, we must always remember our goal and not to get distracted by other things. It’s one of my faults.

Another thing which has been troubling me for some time, which I call ‘the poisoned cup’. It is a surprise, a bonus post, which appears within this one.

The Poisoned Cup

What is Taijiquan? Every time I visit a different school I get told something completely different. My first teacher, Patrick Kelly, told me that he would teach me Taiji but first I must learn Praying Mantis and Eagle Claw kung fu. Why? Because without a solid grounding in external arts, I could never master the internal. This made sense to me and I had read it in other places. I also knew something of Chen style Taijiquan, having practiced Yang and derivative forms of Taijiquan on a daily basis for quite some time (about three years). With gusto I began my training and I learned two forms, the 18 hands and eight step linked fist. I loved these forms and I learned quite a lot of applications for them. Sadly I had to leave Winnipeg, because I was quite young and not in control of my own life. But I vowed to understand Taijiquan at some point.

Years later I found myself in places like Eddie Wu’s Taijiquan academy, Ji Hong Taiji College, Andy James’ school, the Jing Mo guys on Augusta (great guys, BTW, thank you all), and various groups in the park. The park people were mainly a place to ‘just do it’ for 2 or 3 hours in the morning. Everyone taught a little differently. Different jibengong. Different qigong. Different forms. I began to notice a few things. Today I will talk about one of them, tomorrow maybe another.

We do it this way because we don’t understand what is really going on

The first thing I noticed is that people at the student and ‘new instructor’ level (5-10 years) generally did their forms one way and it was the one true way things should be done. But not because they knew how to teach or do Taiji. It was because they didn’t know. They became locked into a certain way of doing things because their master taught them that way and out of a personal lack of commitment they never picked up on what was really going on. After a very long time I realized this kind of instruction could no longer teach me anything. Even for a long time I just sat around learning different variations of the Taiji form. This kind of stubborn, almost ignorant patience paid off however for three important reasons.

a) (most important) I got a lot of practice in. And it was all ‘Tai Chi’, my taichi in the end.

b) I was exposed to a variety of frames, so I learned to look for something behind the frame to tie everything together.

c) I met a lot of people, including some non-taiji people, who had some interesting skills to share.

In particular with c) I met a tachi preying mantis group which did a 108 taichi preying mantis form. These people had an exercise which is commonly known in Canada from another school. In this ‘other’ school they do not know what the exercise is for. However with just a few minutes of coaching from this group I was able to experience chi flow from my dantian out to my hands and back. This experience was one of the crowning achievements of my Taichi career, however as someone who was still not in control of my life I was unable to grasp and hold this experience.

In particular with c) I met a xingyiquan and yiquan master who taught out of the basement gym of a school on Beverly street. He was able to feed me jing. Quite an interesting experience and something I will remember and be able to work on in the future.

In general I began to realize the commonalities of neigong work and what neigong work was really all about via these experiences and my own personal study. And I realized that for most people even at this level they were not clued in to the particularities and specialties of Taijiquan but had instead fallen down into a wrong path (and there are several). This is a dangerous wrong path for people because it feels like you are making internal progress (and you are!) but it is just not the internal progress of Taijiquan. And you can’t get out unless you go back to the basics and double down on your practice time. You wont find out unless you find out for yourself. I look at these experiences as stepping stones along the Taiji path because I think getting your internals woken up to some degree is something you need to do before you can really understand why tai chi does things in a certain way. Before that point you don’t know and you are too easily misled by others.

But this is not the poisoned cup. The poisoned cup is the great number of tai chi people today who can’t even get to this point because they very impatiently mix taijiquan with other arts that go in a different direction (see above). And they don’t practice enough to get anything anyways. So their cup is poisoned, the information they give is poisoned, any success or gong they get is poisoned, and they are shocked and often insulted when you try to tell them what is really going on, what tai chi is supposed to be. They think they know. But they don’t know at all. The cart has gone before the horse. Reaching for the far and disregarding the near.

To be fair I am still working out what Tai Chi is supposed to be, but I have been set on a certain path in opposition to contrary teachings. I’ve become the mind that waits. I owe it to myself and my teachers to fully explore the path I have been given before once again branching out and seeking the truth elsewhere. Who knows, I may find it this time. But it is the years of doubt, of waiting and wondering, crying, difficulty searching, only to be told in the end I am still not ready (but I knew that).

It’s just that this time, I finally have not just the information and the path, but the means to explore it. Everything has come together. This is what I have been waiting for! With what I have I will be able to explore the future. And then, finally, there will be peace.

The Imperative of Falling Off a Cliff

Posted on By Serena

Everything else in my life has basically faded away.

I quit playing Go, and I quit playing Guitar. I quit basically all my other hobbies. I don’t really play video games anymore. I quit drinking, and I quit smoking. Smoking took a very long time, and I paid a dear price to quit it, but I did that on purpose. The point is I quit. So yay me. I still have one problem left, which is my weight, but it is the sort of concern which will resolve itself over time as long as everything else goes according to plan.

I did all of this to prepare the way to study Tai Chi Ch’uan. We all start martial arts for different reasons, or from a short list of reasons I suppose. But over time I can say that Tai Chi grew on me in ways that playing Go (Wei-Qi) or playing Guitar, and video games did not. I touched on this in the last post. The thing is that with Tai Chi, when you have it, it’s really yours, you own it. Like cash in hand versus in the bank. So however I got here, somehow, I got here, and now I have a very serious problem.

I am dying.

I cannot stand this anymore. The lifestyle, even as much as I have changed it, is killing me. I feel like I am trapped in time, trapped, or like falling off a cliff and I am about to die. I have to rent a place and open a Tai Chi school. I have to get out of Taiwan. It’s not that Taiwan is bad. I don’t mean leave the country. I mean get out of the oppressive heat and bugs in the park. If I can rent a good place for a Tai Chi school I will end up spending 6 to 8 hours a day in that place. That will only do me good. That is what I need. I know I need it, and I know I can do it. I’ve done it before, in better climate, and in kung fu schools, I would spend as much time as I could in a community center gym, just going over basics. So it’s not like I don’t know what I am getting into. It’s not like I don’t have the time or the will. I do. In fact I have the kind of time that “nobody has time like that anymore”. I can do that kind of training. I can make this my life. It kind of already is.

And that is why I am dying slowly here, now. Trapped and alone with nowhere to go and nothing to do.

I console myself by telling myself that this situation will resolve itself within a few months. But this is going to be perhaps the most difficult few months of my life so far. Then again, I can’t tell you how much it pleases me to be able to say that.

When I get this whole enterprise up and running, this blog will die. It will die by being reborn. I’ve always liked the Tsukino clan, so we will see what happens, but I am probably going to be looking for a new name this time. The fact is, this is a Chinese pursuit, and it should rightly be given a Chinese name. I already have one in mind, from one of my old books.

What you have and what you don’t

Posted on By Serena

What attracts me to martial arts most of all is that when you have it, you really have it. I mean, you own it. It’s yours. And no one can take it away from you, of course, without chopping off an arm or a leg.

A martial arts wiki? Not really. You don’t own the wiki. The server is a liability. Most of the information is available in other places. And if it’s not? Then all your doing is giving away what you could be charging for. Well, it’s a living, if you pursue it to that end.

A youtube channel is much the same. I wanted to inspire people about losing weight by making a youtube channel where I did a daily episode and lost a little bit of weight each time, by doing kung fu and tai chi. It was cool for a while but how long can I keep that up? And in the end what would I have to show for it? None of the videos would be any good because they would represent me at a time when I wasn’t that great. What’s the real point of that? Wouldn’t it be better to actually affect people’s lives by helping them, training them?

But you have to be good. Really, you do. Because you have to aim high. Tell you a story to help explain why.

Knew this guy. Names not important. Back in the day, 15 years ago, I met him at the park doing Tai Chi. He was okay, I mean, I knew he wasn’t very good, he was actually a Karate teacher, more or less, back then. But he was getting into Tai Chi so we became sort of friends. Tai Chi friends. One day we pushed hands and he suddenly jerked back and plowed me one right in the stomach. I was a bit shocked but asked for another round. He just walked away like he was the champion and I wasn’t worth being near. No biggie, the next day he came back and apologized, it was no biggie but it was very clear to me he really didn’t know anything about Tai Chi.

Fast forward to these days, when I’ve come back to Toronto to train with my Sifus once again. I decided to look this guy up since he is some kind of Tai Chi teacher now. He teaches out of his defunct cafe (never open — just uses it as a training space in the morning) and he teaches in Scarborough and possibly other places. He isn’t very good. I mean, he hasn’t really improved in the last 15 years. His posture is ridiculously bad. But, all things being equal I am not there to criticize people, I just wanted to meet my old friend. The problem is he was really laying it on thick. The things he said and the way he acted, it was obvious he felt he was superior not just to me but to most people in the community. He told me about his 4th degree black belt, his 40 plus years in the martial arts, what a good student he was, etc.

But.

He didn’t live the lifestyle, and his form was bad. I’m sorry to say it, but it was just bad. There were many beginner deficiencies. It was very clear to me he was still using his Karate and other arts to fill the gaps he never learned in his Tai Chi. And the whole culture of secrecy thing. Wow, it was difficult to talk about the art even in general due to his lack of knowledge and his hiding what little he did know under a veil of “teacher’s secrecy”.

I wouldn’t feel so sorry for the old bloke if I knew he practiced as much as he preached. But sadly he is a ‘family man’ who does not have time to practice very much or very often. He teaches one or perhaps two hours a day and I have never seen him practice outside of those times. He has forgotten how to learn — knowing only how to teach.

So how do you reach people like this? You have to be good — better than good. See? You have to be the best. You have to shine. Your lifestyle and your character must be impeccable as well as your skills in martial arts. Only then can you climb the unreachable peaks and save those people who cannot save themselves.

Monday the 3rd

Posted on By Serena

I woke up a little late but got to the park around 7:30. I warmed up with stretches and kicks practice, then 8 reps of the 24 postures Wu Laoshi taught me. Then I did the first three sets of Sun style. It began to spit a little so I moved over to the door of the CC and waited a few minutes for the center to open. I got in first and changed my shoes and went into the corner to practice. I had no encounters today with Mr. class leader (good).

But what was really interesting is that two or three other groups showed up to practice at about 9am. A sword group, and a Cha Quan group, and I think another one. Fortunately Mr. class leader did not confront those other groups either, or we would have had a big brawl on our hands.

Frankly I can’t imagine that he was not embarrassed at having been so confrontational and lying so much. I really don’t know what his problem was. I am probably going to have to accept the fact that I may never know what got into him, as it doesn’t look likely he will approach me again with a schpeil like he tried to pull off last Saturday. Then again, seeing me another twenty plus times this month might change something in him I don’t know. This is actually a really interesting situation, a good test of emotion and spirit for me. We will see what happens in the future.

Class with Hu Laoshi was spectacular. He is so generous and accessible. However I feel clubbed over the head with information and technique. It isn’t that I forget what he taught me per-se. It’s that I am going to have to work very hard and do my homework immediately without rest in order to grasp what he has taught me. He has gifted me, and I must appreciate it by oening the gift.

In the afternoon I happened to walk by a branch of the Taoist Tai Chi society. Someone inside was doing the form — not particularly well, but not the worst I had seen. I didn’t really want to go in but I did anyways, and I asked them about taoism. They basically do not teach taoist meditation or philosophy as a separate practice, as I was told, not even in the temple on D’arcy street. I was told that everything is wrapped up in their form. Honestly, I am not really surprised, only maybe that they have managed to survive this long in today’s Toronto, which is much more enlightened than 30, 20 or heck even 10 years ago. I also saw a few other schools notably northern karate on st. clair which has a very nice studio.

I want to promote Tai Chi in a nice downtown studio. But that is going to take more than just skill, I will need money! Maybe I can partner with some other masters somehow. It is a dream for the future.

First days in Toronto

Posted on By Serena

I landed in Toronto a couple of days ago and have finally begun to settle in a little bit. I don’t enjoy my space as much as I had hoped, but it’s not bad.

I’ve already had two classes with Sifu Wu and although I wasn’t expecting it, due to the material we covered, I do find that it is helpful material. I’ll continue to trust Sifu on those matters for now. Sifu knows best!

And now the curious case of the Scadding Court Tai Chi drop in. I went in on Thursday, and the instructor, a younger Canadian man, was leading the class — full of older Chinese people. Observing the class this did not make sense to me, as I recognized at least one of the older Chinese was a tai chi teacher in the park from 10-15 years ago. Why was he joining this class, did not make much sense to me. The lead instructor’s form was not good or bad, well, it just seemed average for the class. In some ways the students in the class were better than him. But not in any meaningful way. But what really surprised me was his attitude. I’ve been thinking about it for days.

Encounter 1
I went into the Gym on Friday morning to see him doing standing meditation near the benches. I approached him and asked about the Tai Chi drop in. He was immediately evasive. I kept asking him about the drop in because I was confused at the information he was giving me as it was obviously inaccurate based on what I had from the community center director and also from personal experience going to Scadding Court for many years prior. He then excused himself to go to the washroom. When he got back he simply pretended I wasn’t there. I got the hint and went off to practice by myself on the other side of the gym.

Encounter 2
After his class I attempted to ask him again if he taught Tai Chi and if they did push hands but he just ignored me and left.

Encounter 3
The next day (Saturday) I showed up and just did my thing, standing meditation, in the corner. He approached me and asked if I wanted to join his group. I said I wasn’t sure, because I was doing other styles of Tai Chi (in all honesty I didn’t want to pick up on yet another style/group, I wanted to practice what Sifu showed me). But he didn’t let me explain anything, he just cut me off and said he only wanted to know if I was going to join his group. I said no and he went back.

Encounter 4
About 3 minutes after the previous, he came back an asked me to leave since I wasn’t going to join his group. I was shocked but it still didn’t “sink in” to me. So I explained to him I was aware this was a Tai Chi drop in, that the director had explained to me about the different groups and tensions between them etc. He just interrupted me and told me that since I wasn’t going to join his group I had to leave. At that point I kind of lost it (kind of) and told him that I had done Yang style for 20 years and that I wasn’t going to join his group because he was rude to me. He didn’t seem to care or to understand and just said I had to leave. So I told him in no uncertain terms I was very well aware of what was going on, i.e. that it was a drop in, there were multiple groups sharing the Gym, and so forth. I told him I was nice to him in the beginning and I couldn’t understand why he was being so rude. But he just said he was going to call security and that was it.

So we went up to talk to the front desk lady. At that point he demanded to speak to her alone so I said sure, and waited. Obviously he was not giving a fair and balanced account of what happened. But during this time my friend Henry who had been coming to the Tai Chi drop in for 20+ years happened by and we struck up a conversation at the front desk. I don’t know if this helped when the desk lady saw it but the long and short of it is that the lead instructor went back down to the Gym and I was given an official membership card for the center and told to come back on Monday (it was the end of class by then).

Encounter 5
During this time I went back down to collect my things. This may have made it look like he ‘won’ and that I was told to leave. In any case I went back down to the Gym and tried to apologize to him. I just wanted to diffuse the situation but maybe because he thought he ‘won’ he just continued to ignore my apology and walk away. Needless to say, me apologizing for his bad behavior is backwards, but it is a friendly gesture to allow him to save face. I did it for him and I was really and honestly surprised that he did not accept this opportunity. But no, he did not accept, he just totally ignored me and walked away while I was talking to him. How this man came to lead the seniors at Scadding court is far beyond my ken.

I wonder if he will be surprised to see me there on Monday! I really don’t know what will happen on Monday morning but I sure as heck am going to blog about it. See you then 🙂