Saturday, November 13, 2010

Tai Chi Chuan and the Tough Question

Tai Chi Chuan and the Tough Question

I look at my classmates, all senior students; all have many years and valuable insights into tai chi. All of us all have more to learn too.

In addition to real skills, I see in each one a distinct error. It is different for each of us – we generally don’t share the same deficiency. Usually that error has been there a long time. Our teacher has corrected our errors many times. Yet we each forget that correction, and return to that original habit. Somehow we experience THAT particular habit as normal and sort of invisible, perhaps untouchable. These are the deepest habits to correct and require a persistent amount of attention.

Alas, they feel so natural to us. We codify our error in our experience and this is how normal happens. Since much of what we do in tai chi feels good, it is hard to recognize the habit. They become part of the picture that feels good to us and since they are ingrained in our form, even harder to extricate. When they are pointed out to us, quickly they return.

I think if we were to all gather around and tell each other what we see, we might even note different mistakes in each other’s tai chi forms. Out of respect for the practice (and its deeply personal aspect) and for creating an environment of learning together, we tend to be more accepting than critical. Understandably we leave most of the correcting to our teacher.

It’s good to sometimes ask each other what we think needs to be addressed. In this way I learn from their experience. I don’t have to necessarily agree with what they say but I am free to consider it. And if I do ask, I should consider their comment. I have the alternative of putting it aside for now, or even rejecting it.

But seeing that we all carry old patterns, I decided to ask my teacher, Maggie, what MY biggest error is. Her assessment was that I didn’t utilize relaxation as the core impetus in moving into the next posture. I tend to lead with the arms and pelvis before they have a chance to feel the total relaxation of the body. The arms and pelvis are driving the shape forward. The shape of the postures drives my form to the next posture.

For me, this misunderstanding is a very old way of functioning that makes progress in a certain direction nearly impossible. I have spent a great deal of time getting the external shape down with accuracy. Hence, the shaping of the body, arms, hips, was something I was very careful to study. I am aware of a great deal of relaxation, but I see how activation of arms and hips are leading the relaxation and not the other way around.

I can also see why this correction easily leaves my consciousness and that I revert back to “doing the shape”, to leading the body by activating the shape of the posture. There is a built in pride in this accomplishment. I can do this and I can answer questions on how to do this! I’m ahead of the game!

I see “doing the shape” in others quite readily, yet I am guilty of the same problem. I suspect I hide it better than others because of my long standing study in accurate shapes. It has been integrated in the way I do the form. That level of integration hides the fact that it is still there. Subliminally I am constantly trying to improve those shapes, constantly working to get that cart to lead the horse.

It’s frustrating to keep looking and looking and looking at what’s needed for improvement. There has to be a large amount of appreciation for what we have in order to allow that level of scrutiny to not destroy the good and turn into some crazed habit of self criticism. We can’t live in this realm in order to eat ourselves alive. Nor can we live in this realm in order to serve up criticism of others.

Tai chi has to be an act of generosity towards ourselves (and others) so that this experience has a beneficial value. It has to be a gift we give, not some masochistic punishment, like a dog biting its tail to remove a flea that always jumps away.

An attitude of real appreciation for what we have, and a total acceptance of where we are, coupled with a simple question, makes for a good combination.

That question is, “This feels good now but I know tai chi can be even better. What ingredient do I need to add (or remove)?”

This “ingredient” is a magic variable for each of us and as we progress, the “ingredient” will change over time.

I’m so curious. What’s next?

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