Tai Chi Chuan and Spirituality

Tai Chi Chuan and Spirituality

The word “spiritual” has always frightened me.  Because we all relate (or don’t relate) to it from our personal perspective, it starts to lose meaning.  Worse, a “spiritual person” taps into ephemeral, non-materialistic, moral, the transcendent mystical and ethereal worlds that have no clear boundaries, deeply subject to personal interpretation.  Religious wars have been fought (and continue to this day) over the spiritual side of mankind.  Some note that religion kills.  Others note that we would be far worse without it.

Let me digress.  We have an animal self.  This is the self that needs  survival.  This is the self that caters to our body’s needs and desires.  This self self-perpetuates and creates safety so that it can persist in the world.  This self even procreates in order to see that its genes continue on after the body dies.  Tai chi begins with this self.

Do you have to believe in God to be spiritual?

What makes a spiritual person spiritual?

Who is the most spiritual: Gandhi, Mother Theresa, Buddha, The Pope or Bishop Desmond Tutu?

Can you measure it?

Do you need religion to be spiritual?

Is a religious person more spiritual than a non-religious person?

Are there non-spiritual people?

Lately, I’ve been associating that word with the desire or goal to go beyond our animal existence.  Even that may not be true.  What does our animal nature include?  Is love on the list? 

Perhaps a spiritual person is trying to find the best “good” possible.   But again that depends on perspective.  I suspect the average American’s sense of the spiritual would be at odds with Osama bin Laden’s sense of the spiritual.  Some would claim he doesn’t have one but I suspect if he were alive to state his case he would claim that Americans are not spiritual and are hedonistic.

Of course, in the mix here is “religion”.  Some link spirituality with religion, others separate the two.  Many use both religion and spirituality as some sort of Boy Scout badge of honor, proof of their “goodness”.

It is a challenge that not everyone takes up or is capable of taking up should harsh life circumstances create obstacles.  Even that statement falls apart because of the many examples of individuals who start with nothing, yet create something of value.  The mystery of life can take very unusual twists that confound logic or expectations.

The most intriguing statement I’ve run into comes from a Zen monk:  “Spiritual” is what we do to come to terms with the fact that we know we are going to die.  How do you live, knowing you die?  Does that energize you? Create anxiety? Create a feeling of “why bother”?  Hopelessness?  Appreciate every moment?

Some conceive tai chi as a spiritual practice despite the fact that it is not linked to religion.  While it is a mind-body exercise, it is grounded in the body and lacks cerebral or moral teachings.  How can this be spiritual?

When I think of “spiritual” these days, I ponder those individuals who seem to go beyond their own personal safety and pleasure and lift themselves into the service of others, dig into themselves to find a new internal space of generosity, or create a new space in the world for something that is life affirming, something that creates, if not happiness, then peace.   To me, this is the “work” of spirituality:  to find that intangible good that I believe most of us possess.  It is not linked to God or a religion, though to some, God and religion help them frame their spirituality. 

It may not even be comfortable or satisfying.  Mother Theresa was very depressed and doubted the existence of God while doing what most would describe as noble work and a spiritual mission.

I read recently that we are the only animal that will put ourselves in harm’s way, or even die, to save the life of others.  Clearly that action has little to do with our own animal existence, safety or comfort.

Tai chi has some unusual goals.  The first would be an internal integration of the body itself.  Each part is connected and moves in concert impeccably, organically with each other part.  But that is not enough.  We need to use the ground and the air to make it alive and interactive.  But that is not enough.  We practice in a group and we have to move with each other in unison.  When we work in push-hands with another body, we need to be connecting to that body.  In sword form we connect with a physical object, a sword.  In sword dueling, we connect to each other through the sword of the partner.

Connection is deeply embedded in tai chi and takes the focus off of our self while not ignoring our self.  We don’t become selfless.  It is more like the whole world becomes your self.  And if this is so, we have a great reason to be with the world generously.  By the requirement that you must rely on others to grow, you invariable appreciate the other.  Their growth is your growth.  When tai chi becomes all about you, you stop progressing.   I’ve seen this many many times.  It is a trap we have to learn to avoid.

Given these demands, we need to press into our self and go beyond what we have naturally acquired in life.  Tai chi training is a process of letting go of that which gets in the way of connection, either to our internal mass, or to others.  To practice tai chi you would have to care about your body – this magnificent tool – and care about your partners or practice group.  They all contribute to creating this cellular response to life that includes everyone and everything.

The spirituality of tai chi is not front and center.  It is not the first thing we are concerned with.  Studying tai chi will not necessarily make you more spiritual.

Personally I’m grateful to tai chi for this potential.  My childhood did not stress connection.  In fact, survival depended on NOT connecting and being independent.  Religion is not a good teacher for me because of its divisive and often aggressive nature.  But in tai chi, if you really progress, at some point you will have to contend with connection to the world.  I’ve needed something this tangible to understand connection.  I’ve changed my tune.

One last word on “spiritual”: It has always seemed to me that one basic aspect of our humanity is being with others with a unified purpose.  Hence, movies, theater, sports events, a yoga class, religious practices and political rallies all have this in common: bodies together with a unified intension.  This always creates a “me” that is more than I am when I am by myself.  The content of the gathering is less important than the bodies gathered and unified purpose of the group.  It is one way that the “I” can become a “We”.  

Doing tai chi in a group also has this fundamental experience.  (The danger here is “group think” or hysteria.  It can go both ways.  Hitler comes to mind in that he needed to create a group think response in his followers.  That need is built into our psyches, but Hitler’s aim was not unification.  His aim was separation and dominance and his tools were intimidation and violence.)  In tai chi, a rather benign exercise to begin with, hysteria is far less likely to occur.  We are relaxing, after all.  We are calming and collecting the chi.  We are dissolving the self to become a SELF.

Maybe it is a good thing that everyone has their own definition of “spiritual”.  That way we keep looking for new avenues of practice and connection.  It becomes a live investigation and not an ideology or theology, not a dead weight, not a competition.

Spirituality, like tai chi, has to be lively to have any value.   Both can enliven our existence.

Have I missed anything here?  I hope so.