Tai Chi Spell Broken

The most amazing thing happened at my Tai Chi class recently!

A few years ago my friend Jenny and I kept falling for no good reason on our dog walks. One day, 4 1/2 years ago, we talked and decided to do something about it. We started going to the Tai Chi class at the Recreation Center twice a week. Tai Chi allowed us the opportunity to move slowly, learn about balance, and basically learn about where we are in our bodies while moving. In the first 3 years neither of us fell.

A series of joint replacements the summer before last made it impossible for me to continue the class. I struggled just to walk. Three months after the hip surgery, I fell. My balance was horrible. I had no idea where my body was in space. 

I had intended on going back to Tai Chi when I finished my physical therapy, but kept finding excuses and reasons not to go. I finally sat down and did some writing about it. I discovered a greater obstacle than the physical pain:  issues with the teacher!

Marcia is fantastic when it comes to teaching how the body works. She is superbly intuitive and clear when it comes to seeing what the body is doing and how to make it to work properly. She is also narcissistic, eccentric, erratic, and controlling. Occasionally, out of the blue, she will blast a student in the class in front of everyone.

The fist time this happened I had a very strong negative reaction but said or did nothing. I was like a deer in headlights--fogged over and frightened. This belittling behavior kept happening sporadically, and the entire class walked on egg shells knowing another outburst would certainly happen. Jenny said she dealt with it by doing the Tai Chi and ignoring Marcia. I tried this but it didn't ease my anxiety.

I hadn't been aware feelings of anxiety and physical pain were blocking my going back to class. About this time I had my 4th and 5th fall in 2015. I knew that I had to get myself back to class--for me.  Every time I thought about finding another class I would acknowledge Marcia was excellent at what I needed plus the class had become a community and support system for me. I made the decision that if Marcia jumped on me or someone else I would simply go to her after class and tell her that her behavior was unacceptable to me and if it happened again I would bring up the problem in class...

The day of the amazing thing, Jenny was whispering to me about her new adult coloring book. She was so excited about feeling her creativity coming back after a long hiatus. Marcia glared at us for talking and then her curiosity about our interaction overcame her and she inquired about our conversation. 

Jenny animatedly shared her story, embellishing it to include that her son had sent her a copy of the book Drawing on the Right Side of the Brain. Marcia launched into stories about the drawing classes she had taken. She spoke at length about how the point of taking any class is to have the teacher tell you that you’re doing a great job. Jenny said she didn’t want to take a class as she had too many voices inside her head telling her stuff—she didn’t want or need someone on the outside doing it, too.

Then Marcia talked about a watercolor class she had taken where the teacher only said critical things. She said, “Now, that is the kind of teacher you should run away from.” 

We resumed Tai Chi mode and were seriously and intently doing the form. I was aware of my intense focus on my body when I felt Marcia move near me. I could feel her eyes piercing right through me. As we stopped what we were doing she was standing right next to me. I felt and heard her suck in a chastising breath...

Without hesitation I said, “I bet you are about to tell me what a good job I am doing?” For a brief second she looked shocked. Then the class laughed and by this time I was looking at her and she laughed, too. The entire class at that moment knew we had a new point of reference from her bullying. It was like this great weight had been lifted. The spell had been broken. 

It was AMAZING!

No More Biking

Last week I brought my bicycle down from storage, traded out my saddle with a friend who had had her eye on it for several years and called an avid biking friend. I offered to give her the bike. She came over several days later and loved it. She left with it on her bike rack and I watched as she left and drove away. 

While it was sitting in my apartment I had a strong urge to go riding. The truth of the matter is I have had a complete knee replacement and two complete hip replacements. One of my shoulders and one foot are filled with metal. I can not take the chance of falling or flying off a bicycle. As long as my bike was within sight I felt okay. 

It was a Georgina Terry bike that was created for women's bodies and strengths. Mine was a Susan B. Anthony model and on the mid-bar it said "I rejoice when I see a woman on wheels". It was a gorgeous cherry red. I had just had it tuned up and had bought new hybrid tires when my knee went and the bike has been in storage for a year ever since. 

After my friend drove away I was overcome with feelings. I quickly realized I had just experienced a great loss and I was grieving. Other passions I had stopped doing began to float through my mind. Cross country skiing, my career, writing a book, playing in an orchestra. People who I've let go of through the years were front and center. My mind was filled with layers and layers of loss. I cried.

I cried because of the loss of youth and health. It felt like I was at the beginning of a slippery slope that was only going to go down faster and faster. Then I found myself in the midst of internal arguments about growing older. With my current joint health I painfully feel my limitations. I thought I had gotten quite good about letting go, but this had hit a nerve.

Health is such a fragile thing and I had no idea in my youth what it meant to grow older and live with my health compromised and mobility challenged. Once a friend told me, when he was 94, that the body not functioning was an awful way to live.  He died several months later. I was now facing a reality that was not making me happy. I was encountering one of the biggest challenges in my life.                                                         .