I embarked upon my Tai Chi journey last May. In the beginning I was
lost—but in an introspectively curious way. Tai Chi was different than anything
I had ever tackled. It was enough to simply "be". If I didn’t know
what I was doing I could make something up. Sure, there was a several
thousand-year-old form we were learning but, hey, there were more important
things going on than worrying about perfection.
The funny thing is I don’t know how I made my way to Tai Chi. I had
seen it being gracefully done in parks in San Francisco, New York and on my
trips to China. I had thought it was beautiful to watch, but it was not
something I had ever imagined doing. After all it was an internal martial art
practiced for its defense training. It was only after starting to do it I
discovered it was also done for health benefits.
Tai Chi felt “right” from the first class. I can’t put my finger on
what it was that clicked. Maybe it was something I couldn’t think my way
through. Who knew that not thinking
would become so important? Any time I would start thinking in class, I would
lose track of my body. In the beginning the entire focus was on what my body
was doing and learning structure to encourage connection.
Then there was balance. And flexibility. And steadiness. Those were
all things that had become quite precarious in my day-to-day life. I had taken
three falls in the previous year. When new people would come into the class and
we would introduce ourselves and say why we were there, about half the class
would say “balance”. This gave me pause. I began to feel changes in my body
that encouraged and allowed me to stay grounded and balanced.
I was basically learning about what my body was doing for the very
first time in my life. I was listening to the subtleties of the body: joints,
muscles, tendons, and organs, back, legs, where my weight was--feeling how
complex and yet simple the movements were. Discovering connections and
disconnects between the upper and lower parts of my body, side to side, pushing
too hard, too far, holding hips off center, not letting the imaginary drop of
water sit carefully in my too-tightly-curved hand...
My mind wanted to figure this phenomenon out. But I quickly gave that
up. I have come to realize even in the short amount of time I’ve been
practicing Tai Chi there are many, MANY levels to even the minutest aspect of
every thing we do. Each move has a billion variations depending on each person,
their body’s story, the energy of the day...
Some of the levels presented themselves early on. There were the
physical aspects. Body memory was the way we are were being taught the form. I
began to experience the subtleties of the brain breaking from its rapid beta
self-talk and commentaries and dropping into calming alpha waves. I felt my
brain shifting even when we’re warming up. At the end of each class I felt like
I’d been swaddled for an hour and fifteen minutes. Held. Cared for. Loved.
Another level that bubbled up in Tai Chi was emotions. Slowing down and
practicing the form made a lot of room for inner emotions. Sometimes there
would be negative self-talk that would be severely critical and competitive.
Sometimes there would be waves of sadness. I believe the body carries a lot of
emotions. It became clear that Tai Chi was a way to allow old energy patterns
to release and move through unconscious resistances. I liked using the body in
this way without analyzing everything.
One day in class I had an “ah ha” moment. We were talking about the
tiny muscles in the feet and ankles that create balance and we started walking
around the room. We were to tune into how we walked. Suddenly I could feel the
arches in my feet. I almost wept with gratitude. I admit it sounds like an
extreme reaction but it has repeatedly been my experience with Tai Chi: small,
simple things touch me with the magnitude of the mountains.
Have I mentioned the sense of community? I call this the “social level”
of Tai Chi. I have been in many group processes and I can say for a fact the
people in this class share something mysterious. The way the class is set up
through the Recreation Center new people can come into the class at any time. Sometimes
that is annoying, but ultimately it is teaching me patience. The core group
though, the ones who keep coming back, are the ones who delight me. Besides
being really nice people we share something that I feel but cannot explain.
I can’t help but notice that the practice of Tai Chi, while being a
martial art that is about fighting, is pushing me into deeper levels of
spirituality. There are within the subtle (beautiful) movements, spaces of Light
that I have only felt in the awe of nature, the joy of a small hand reaching up
for mine, the sweet melody of a Beethoven sonata... I know I am touching into
something much Greater than myself.
Okay. So you probably think I’m making up this magical story?
Actually, it is all my Truth. Even the gratitude piece about having arches in
my feet is true! How many people do you know who have flat feet, metal in their
shoulders, stomach problems, knee replacements, bodies that fall down or get up
too early in the morning? I have discovered a deep secret in the practice of Tai
Chi. It is as solid as the earth and as ethereal as the blue sky. And the best
part of it all—I love it!
