Obey My Blog

Animation student John Francis Leo recently created this awesome video of Darth Vader doing the 42 Movements of Tai Chi Straight Sword. I was just talking to someone the other day about how I much I would love to learn Tai Chi Sword. Looks like I’ve found my answer!

Star Wars Tai Chi from John Leo on Vimeo.

Okay. I’m not exactly lost. But I was reading through Penelope Trunk’s latest blog post “When You’re Feeling Lost Don’t Hide” and it hit me. Holy crap, I’m lost!

Well, at least when it comes to one of my great passions, Tai Chi.

Where the heck is my Tai Chi practice going, I wonder?

I’m signing up for another Tai Chi class this fall, but what happens after that? Does there have to be anything after that? And why am I worrying so much about it anyway?

I’ve been reluctant to write anything here, because I think, what else can I say about Tai Chi that hasn’t already been said? I also don’t like giving advice about Tai Chi, because I truly feel that each individual person has to come to their own understanding and routine. What works for me, may not work for you.

On the other hand, I do find it helpful when I learn about other people’s experiences – even those not related to Tai Chi.

I’ve been reading Not Always So, by Shunryu Suzuki, in preparation for a class that starts next week at the Austin Zen Center. There was one particular passage that struck me and I’d like to share it with you here.

“Yesterday, I said, “However painful your legs are, you shouldn’t move,” and some people may have understood what I said literally. What I was really saying is that your determination should be like that. And “should be” is also a good example. It is not necessarily so.”

It occurred to me after reading this that perhaps I’ve been clinging to a lot of shoulds. I often feel my Tai Chi practice “should be” something that it is not. But that’s kind of silly and self-defeating. So why not work with what I’ve got and just keep going? Sometimes “should be” isn’t necessarily the right or appropriate answer. Especially when feeling lost or frustrated. What may be more important is the determination to keep going.

And also, perhaps, as Penelope says, feeling lost is often just a part of forging your own path.

My new class, Tai Chi 8 Energies and 5 Steps, will incorporate routines for eight energies and five movements of traditional long forms. I’m already familiar with the long form, but not these mysterious eight energies (which according to the AOMA website, includes Peng (ward off), Lu (roll back), Ji (press), An (push), Cai (strike downward), Lie (split), Zhou (elbow strike), and Kao (shoulder strike)). I’m looking forward to diving back into the practice and becoming humbled, once again, by all there is to know and learn.

I happily carried my 9 lb ball to Tai Chi Ball class. 9 lbs! That’s almost a baby. Or something. My teacher eyed it with what I thought was a pleased look, but actually…was not. She took a look around the class and then asked me to trade. She wanted me to experience holding a heavier ball. I like my teacher and of course, I trust her, so I traded balls with one of my classmates. While my nice 9 lb medicine ball was leathery and stitched, this was a glossy and smooth heavy-ass bowling ball. Noting the weight of it I suddenly realized her point. I was never going to gain strength from a 9 lb ball.

Okay, I said. I’ll exchange this one. What do you think? Perhaps a 12 lb one?

No, she replied. 15.

Gulp.

I now have my 15 lb ball. It’s freakin’ heavy. It’s squishy and weighted so that it actually feels heavier than a 15 lb bowling ball. It’s awful. But now at least I don’t feel like a weeny in class. And I’m kind of getting used to it. Kind of.

Oh and check this out – I finally ordered myself a pair of these beautiful Onitsuka “Tiger” Tai Chi shoes from Zappos. Yay shoes! Now, instead of slipping and sliding around the dojo in my socks (which, admittedly, is fun to do sometimes) I can move around like a real Tai Chi master!

Okay, not exactly like a master, but you know what I mean.

I’ll soon be practicing Tai Chi with a big ‘ol ball.

Yes, that’s right.

A ball.

The (almost) lost art of Tai Chi Ball Exercise strengthens your core muscles and helps develop the qi in your dantian. It can also significantly improve your Tai Chi practice.

I kind of think if I just practiced more, though, my Tai Chi would improve, but my life has been rather busy lately. I only make time to meditate.

Which means my body, while centered, is getting a little flabby. Oh no!

Must. Work. On. Core. Muscles.

Maybe you think that’s strange. Maybe you think, Robin, why do I need some stupid ball to improve my Tai Chi?

Well, maybe you don’t. How should I know? But…Tai Chi Ball Exercise was the first part of the workshop that Grand Master Chen Qing Zhou taught while he was in Austin and I completely missed it. Mostly because it was a Saturday and I wanted to sleep in. But still, I realize that this is pretty important to the practice of Chen Style Tai Chi.

Look, I mean, even Lance Armstrong does it! Well, okay, not exactly, but it’s on his website.

So there’s that. But first, I’ll be finishing up part 3 of my Chen Tai Chi Old Frame 1st Routine class.

That’s 75 forms!

75 forms that I still haven’t really embodied. So I’m thinking of taking the whole class all over again.

I know, crazy right? But I love Tai Chi and I still feel like I’ve barely scratched the surface.

I briefly considered moving on to something new, but these days, I’m not sure I particularly enjoy starting over quite as much as I used to. I think perhaps starting something new provides some initial excitement, but lately I’ve become more interested in discovering what’s beyond the newness. What’s there that I’ve been missing? What have I overlooked or not appreciated?

Could be interesting…

I took a break from practicing Tai Chi.

And then I took a break from writing.

Scandalous!

My Tai Chi class has started up again though and I’m (almost) back in my regular routine. After Master Chen’s workshop several weeks ago, I realized I was a wee bit worn out. I needed to stop and catch my breath. Plus, my body was all like, okay dood. Dooooooood. We like, really need a break in here, do you mind?

And so I decided to take a break.

Now that I’m back though, I have a calmer, more focused approach to my Tai Chi (sort of). I’m not anywhere near mastering the forms of course, but I take correction better than I did before. I don’t get as discouraged as I did before. And I don’t worry as much either.

Master Chen’s workshop pushed me to my absolute limits and challenged me much more than I realized. It was really tough, but it also put things in perspective. I’ve put so much energy into worrying and stressing over how I’m doing the forms, how awkward I feel – how awkward I must look. When really that doesn’t matter.

YES. You are going to look awkward. You are going to FEEL awkward. That’s just a given.

But who cares?

I also seem to have a lot more fun in class (I know – how could Tai Chi be any more fun than it already is??). Granted, my legs feel like they’re on fire and sweat drips down my forehead in class (ewwwww), but I love it.

I’m also relieved.

Less fear – fear of failure, fear of pain, fear of looking stupid or whatever fear you are faced with – is always a relief.

In this same spirit, I am planning, packing and prepping for a week long trip to the boondocks of California.

Next week I’ll be traveling over the mountains and through the Austin and San Jose airports and up a very long and steep dirt road to the Tassajara Zen Monastery where I’ll be staying with my Zen teacher and several other friends and members of the Austin Zen Center.

I’ll be meditatin’ y’all!

At 5:30 in the morning. Every morning.

Um…

But I’ll also be doing some other zen-like activities like slaving away in the kitchen (I hope, maybe?) and/or doing other Tassajara-y things like attending talks and taking hikes and of course just enjoying the change of pace (not a small thing for me I must tell you).

I’m starting to think that taking a break is a good thing sometimes…

Now that my legs have fully recovered from the workshop with Grand Master Chen Qing Zhou, I have more blood available to my brain to write something halfway coherent today. Yay!

Grandmaster Chen caused me great pain. Pain, I tell you! Yet, I willingly went up to him and allowed him to demonstrate several moves, like twisting my arm back in on itself, throwing me to the ground, etc.

This was starting to hurt after a while and I wanted to defend myself. But how?

At one point, as I was hurtling to the ground in another one of Master Chen’s vice grips, I made a desperate and feeble attempt to lightly punch Master Chen with my other, less compromised arm. Just to prove that I wasn’t an imbecile who was going to sit there and take it.

And then it hit me.

Robin, what the hell are you doing? You’re trying to punch Master Chen?!

And then I thought, but he’s trying to hurt me – I must defend myself!

I wondered what Master Chen would think. I wondered what my teacher would think. I was suddenly both horrified and foolishly proud of my reaction.

And then I looked up into the eyes of these two teachers.

And they both burst out laughing.

“Do not resist!” Master Chen said.

In Tai Chi, one of the worst things you can do is resist. Still, this is the hardest thing for me to accept. In the two years that I’ve been practicing martial arts, you’d think I’d get this by now. But no.

At the end of our day together, Master Chen encouraged us all to keep practicing. He also emphasized the importance of hard work. Which made me happy. Seriously. A lot of people want to obtain good health, strength, agility and even enlightenment through Tai Chi without doing any of the work. Unfortunately (or fortunately, rather) it doesn’t work that way.

But, I have to admit that even this misses the point. As strict as Master Chen is (and he is), he loves what he’s doing and has fun doing it.

This is what impressed me the most, I think. It wasn’t his expertise or his quick moves. It was the fact that he was not in it for himself, if that makes sense. There was nothing I could say or do that would put him on the defensive. He knew who he was – and he knew who we were.

Before saying our official goodbyes, Master Chen half-jokingly stormed around the room, going up to each one of us and looking us in the eyes – showing us his spirit, he said. Watching him and the other students’ reactions was fascinating. Some backed away a little (understandably so). Some stood their ground and looked right back at him. When he came up to me and I looked him in the eyes, I simply softened. I was surprised. I was supposed to be afraid and yet I couldn’t see anything scary in there. Weird.

I’m not sure when Master Chen will be back. But in November, Grandmaster Chen Zhenglei is expected to be in Austin to give one of his workshops. I’m giddy with excitement because I’m much more familiar with his style than with Grand Master Chen Qing Zhou’s. Hmmm, perhaps this means I won’t screw up as much in his class. One can only hope… But then, that might not be as much fun.

PAIN. Soreness. PAIN.

Just kidding.

I’m not in that much pain – now.

The Chen Style Tai Chi workshop I attended with Grand Master Chen Qing Zhou this past weekend went something like this:

“Wrong!”

“Stop!”

“Wrong direction!”

“No.”

“That’s not right!”

“Stop laughing!”

“This is not a joke!”

“Wrong!”

“Wrong!”

“Wrong!”

“No!”

I have the image of Master Chen throwing his hands up in the air over and over because of something I did wrong now etched into my brain forever.

He’s a wonderful dude, don’t get me wrong. He just doesn’t fool around when it comes to teaching Tai Chi.

At one point I was paired with him to do double push hands (yes, God hates me). I have never done double push hands in my life – only single push hands. So, I had no earthly idea what I was doing. Realizing this, Master Chen kept pushing me back, further and further towards the wall. Then with the flick of his wrist, he slapped the tip of my nose with the back of his hand.

Humiliated and defeated all I could do was laugh.

And then plot my revenge.

I have to give kudos to my teacher, Yuxia Qiu – who co-taught the entire workshop AND translated AND took correction from Master Chen, all at the same time. She even helped me out a few times and I made sure to thank her.

One of the highlights of the workshop was when Master Chen asked us to put our hands on his belly and back so that we could feel what his dantian was doing during the movements. Grandmasters traditionally do not do this. At least, that’s what I’ve been told. His belly is like a rock, let me tell you. A big round rock. It’s weird. And awesome.

While we were on break for lunch, I walked around the Austin Fitness Martial Arts dojo and came across an altar, with Guan Yu at the very top. Guan Yu, I was told, is the protector of the martial arts. How could I not know this? There’s so much I don’t know… But I was intrigued by this figure. And happy to spot the familiar image of Kuan Yin, the bodhisattva of compassion standing near him.

Speaking of compassion…Steven over at Real Taijiquan was kind enough to give me some very useful feedback on my blog last week. Thanks Steven! If you get a chance, go check out his site – he has a new optional minimalist theme, which I think is pretty cool!

South By Southwest is here! Woohoo!

What does this have to do with Tai Chi?

Nothing!

Other than the fact that, since I am not attending on the company’s dollar this year, I can attend any panel I choose. And in order to create a better blog for you, my dear readers, I choose to attend A LOT of panels. On blogging! Yay!

On that note, if you have any feedback regarding this blog, please feel free to send me a message via my Contact Form. I welcome constructive criticism, as well as, nice thoughts.

Just try not to be mean, if you can. An irate man tailgated me halfway home from a morning sit at the Zen Center a few Saturdays ago. I laughed. Likewise, if you are mean, I may very well laugh at you, too.

So I’ll be getting my geek on starting this weekend, but NEXT weekend I am attending a workshop with Grand Master Chen Qing Zhou.

This guy is going to kick. my. ass. And I’m very much looking forward to it.

Chen Qing Zhou apparently began teaching within a year of learning Lao Jia Li Yu – the Old Form. The form that I am learning right now.

I have just learned the 34th form, Double Jump Kick (Ti Er Qi).

How am I EVER going to make it to the 75th? I think I’m going to have to wake up a lot earlier in the mornings…

I think back to when I first started learning Tai Chi and I shake my head. There is NO WAY I would have been able to teach back then! I don’t think I could teach now! Well, okay, I could probably, maybe teach some Silk Reeling, but there is so much more that I don’t know…

Over lunch this past weekend, I described to a friend of mine how I started off doing Tai Chi to help me deal with stress. Then I mentioned how I went to an (awesome) acupuncturist for a year, also because of stress. And then of course, I got into Zen. Also, in a way, to help me deal with stress (and for other reasons too, but it has definitely helped me deal with stress, that’s for sure).

Hmmm…so apparently – and this may have been obvious to everyone but me – I’ve been one stressed out chica!

(to my former roommates back in Virginia…I’m so, so sorry…)

And now for a riveting video from the Grand Master himself. Who makes these videos? I need to have a talk with them about music selection…

You’ve met her. THAT girl. The one who is always smiling. Real sweet-like. The one who tries to keep everything together. To make everyone happy.

Then one day this sweet, smiling girl flips the fuck out when someone asks to simply borrow a pen.

Yep.

Been there. Done that.

I’ve been that girl.

To a certain extent I still am.

Being the good girl SUCKS. You don’t say what you really want to say. You say yes when you want to say no. You smile when you actually feel like punching someone in the face (well, I have actually punched someone in the face. Not that I’m advocating punching people!). And you end up exhausted, angry and confused.

During the Zen meditation (zazen) class I took last fall, my teacher asked everyone in the room if they wanted to be a good person. Most people, of course, raised their hand. Who doesn’t want to be a good person?

ME.

I most definitely DO NOT want to be a good person.

I know where that road goes. Every time I’ve attempted to be the good girl, I’ve gotten myself into trouble.

So then, what is the point of being a good person?

When I was in graduate school I took a conflict resolution class. Because, well, at the time I wanted to be a diplomat and I thought, rightly, that conflict resolution might come in handy.

I thought to myself – I’ll learn how to foster peace between warring nations, I’ll learn how to listen with thoughtfulness and care and then help enemies put aside their differences. Palms will meet. Hands will shake. Doves will be released…

What I learned instead was that conflict resolution is not about making peace just for the sake of making peace. Or because it is the “good” or “right” thing to do. It can be a hard and sometimes dirty business. Granted, it can be extremely rewarding and done in the right way it actually CAN foster peace between enemies. My former professor, Dr. Marc Gopin is an inspiring example of this.

But this does not happen by prancing into a war zone and gleefully dismissing all the hate, anger and violence that has occurred and almost assuredly still exists. It’s only by acknowledging it – and honoring the wounds created on both sides – that healing and peace can begin (That is if, as a peacemaker, you can avoid ending up bitter and jaded by the whole heart-wrenching process.).

But that’s the aftermath. Identifying (and identifying with) certain things as good or bad is what gets people into conflicts in the first place.

It is the same with individuals.

If you consider yourself a “good” person, then that means other people must be “bad.” Not you. Never.

In an effort to prop yourself up as “good,” you will attempt to call out and crucify others who you believe contain the very “bad” qualities you deny in yourself. You will create enemies, point fingers, blame others and get mad. If along the way, other people join you, you can all call yourselves good and others bad – solidified in self-righteousness and in your total denial of ever doing anything bad or wrong.

I’m exaggerating a little bit here, but this is how wars start. This is how conflict begins.

As a martial artist, it is prudent to recognize and learn to accept all aspects of yourself. By doing so, you learn how to defend yourself. You learn your weaknesses and your strengths. You learn when it is appropriate to act and when not to.

In essence, you learn how to become a whole person – not a “good” person.

Because being good and bad are never separate. They are just two sides of the same coin. Trying to deny your “bad” side is like trying to chop yourself in half. I should know. I’ve tried (well, not literally of course).

Which is why there really is no point in being a “good” person.

In reality, there really isn’t such a thing. And in reality, when you accept and embrace what you think is bad in yourself – all those things you criticize yourself for on a daily basis – a surprising and unthinkable thing happens.

You begin to accept these things in others. You stop trying to project your crap onto others. You stop seeing people as others and you start seeing them as human beings.

Suddenly, being a “good” person is no longer important. Just being a person is.

Okay. So apparently I cannot punch. At least, not in class. My giddy excitement over being able to properly punch was squashed by a (typical) case of self-consciousness in front of the teacher. Damnit! How is that possible? I was all punchin’ and shit and then – nothing? What the…??

So I’m back to square one, practicing punches at home in the morning. Over and over. If you’ve never practiced drills, let me just tell you that you can work up a sweat pretty quickly. Which is why I usually stop after just a minute or two (Hey, I don’t want to be sweaty before I go into work. That’s just gross man.).

But I mean, what is that about?

Yesterday, I spent the evening at the Austin Zen Center cooking. Our resident cook at the moment, Koji, was kind enough to teach me how to cook Panang Tofu Curry (DOOD – peanut butter and coconut milk – uh, yes please!).

During this cooking session I learned how to properly chop with a knife. Which, strangely enough, is a lot like Tai Chi. Instead of cutting down into the vegetable, you slide the knife down and across, back and forth, allowing the blade to make a whooshing sound each time. You pretty much move your hand in a circle (Like Tai Chi! See I told you there was a connection.).

I’m far from perfecting this. It’s completely different then how I usually chop. Which is, of course, all wrong, but it has become familiar and comfortable.

But I did eventually start to get it. I gained a little knife confidence.

And then Koji would look over and I’d suddenly start second guessing myself.

Which is so silly, right?

I mean, I’m just cutting vegetables for Christ’s sake!

Same with Tai Chi. It’s JUST Tai Chi. It’s JUST punching. Practice long enough and you’ll eventually get it.

But there’s this part of me that thinks I should just KNOW. Yes. I should instinctively know how to throw a punch in Tai Chi. I should also instinctively know how to chop vegetables properly, because, that is what every baby born in this country should know the minute they pop out of the womb. Obviously.

So, it appears my expectations are just a wee bit high.

And that’s okay. But if I really want to enjoy what I’m doing, perhaps I should just chill the hell out and relax a little.

And by relaxing, maybe I’ll get my punch back.