Author: Gerald Browning

I haven’t been training in Chen Old Frame for very long, so when I had the opportunity to train with a Chen Master (Chen Bing) I knew that this would be the opportunity of a lifetime. My taiji instructor, the senior students, and I attended a seminar at Master Ling’s Oriental Martial Arts, in Noblesville, Indiana, on June 2-4. Dr. Zhichao Ling was a gracious host with a beautiful school. He helped to teach the lessons that Master Bing was instructing us on.

The first lesson was on a short 13 form Chen form. With each lesson, from form to push hands, to silk reeling exercises, he instructed us with such a calm, demeanor. “Enjoy breathing” he would tell us, reminding us that breathing is one of the first, and most important lessons. I also learned that breathing was an often neglected lesson. As fellow tai chi practitioners, as well as martial artists, I am certain that many of you have had lessons in appropriate breathing technique. Even though the 13 form isn’t very long, it is still a complex form. My tai chi training group is still working on it. The form work was followed by silk reeling, an art form that helps to refine one’s movements. It was during this time where I felt as if I was moving through water. The deceptively simplistic movement of silk reeling exercises grew to be complex the more we trained in it. Working for hours on tai chi form and silk reeling exercises, tired the arms, which made them heavy. Making the arms “heavy” was an excellent tactic for pushing hands (the training that we did on the last day of the seminar).

The latter portion of the seminar dealt with practical applications and pushing hands. Using silk reeling in pushing hands and seeing how the form work, breathing exercises, and silk reeling translated quite seamlessly into the martial application (fending off opponents, upsetting the balance of those with whom we are training with in pushing hands techniques, etc.) was quite an enlightening learning experience. Of course, my taiji group was quite fascinated with the applications portion of the seminar. We were often seen throwing each other to the ground, and getting back up trying the maneuver again.

For me, I saw this as a different teaching style. The form work was done standing the entire hour, with lots of repetition. Master Chen Bing spoke with a calm, almost hypnotic, voice. The way he drew out the word “Relax”, almost lulled me into a meditative trance. On many occasions, we heard the loud slap of the collective group dropping our hands to our sides, letting them slap along our thighs. And once our arms got heavy, we would work on the form again. Constantly, he referred to having “heavy hands”. It was quite interesting to see him use those “heavy hands” in application. Sinking the body and applying the “heavy hands” could be used as a strike or a throw. Seeing what we learned on day one (form and silk reeling) being used on day two (martial applications and pushing hands) taught me that even the smallest of movements and seemingly innocuous of hand/arm positions, can be very crucial in self-defense techniques.

Since the seminar, I find myself working a lot with the 13 forms and silk reeling. I also find myself using the “heavy hands” techniques that I learned during this seminar to relax and warm up. One of the most important take-aways from any seminar would be to continue to practice. Otherwise, you risk losing the wealth of knowledge that is gained at events such as this.

As with any seminar, the training that one receives at an event such as this can only be effective if the lessons are practiced afterwards. My colleagues and I have used many of the lessons that we have learned in our continued training together. I know that I still train in the Chen 13 form on my own. I also have been helping out with a children’s taiji class where we the young students are learning this form. The silk reeling and pushing hands techniques that we have worked with are still a part of my training and the taiji group that I am a part of.

I have learned a lot from Master Chen Bing and Dr. Zhichao Ling. The session has taught me that there are many different components to the internal martial arts (and taiji in particular). Just like any other martial art, it is important to understand how your body works with the art instead of trying to bend to the art (or vice versa). One just needs to be receptive to the teachings and open to the experience of the training and it will enhance you as a martial artist and even as a person.

Whenever I see my son about to scream or cry out of frustration and/or anger, I tell him “Do your breathing”. Immediately, my two year old will raise and lower his arms while “sinking” (a Qigong exercise that my Taiji sifu taught me during my first day at his Taiji school). My son, Mason, gets caught up in his breathing and actually forgets why he is angry in the first place.

Anger and frustration is not permanent, but learning can be permanent. This is one of the most important lessons I have learned from studying the martial arts. This afternoon, my son and I attended a private Taiji lesson. In this lesson, I am learning Chen style, but have been quite stymied by it. The “movement” of the form has been quite frustrating. The body must ripple outward. My legs may move in the appropriate direction, however, the rest of the body must move, also. “You are too stiff…you need to relax.”

Most of the hour lesson was spent moving through the same four movements over and again. Much of the time was spent working on transitioning from one stance to another (which, to me seems to be a majority of the form). I have been working on this form for several months and I still feel like I need to start from the beginning. Then, I remember something my sifu used to say to me a lot: “If Taiji isn’t frustrating to you, then you aren’t doing it right”. Of course, going through my training, it would anger me to no end to hear this (which is probably why he continued to say it). Now, I must confess that those words still anger me, but I also see the wisdom behind them.

My sifu excused himself and left me to my training. My son stood in the corner watching me move like a drunk elephant. The frustration must have been plain to see, since my son grabbed me by the finger and said “Do your breathing, Dada.” And, just like that, I had two teachers.

While I am still relatively new to the form (only four to five months), I am working on being fluid from within. My transitions are still rather clunky (perhaps even “robotic”), however, I am still working on this. Out of all of the martial arts that I have studied, I have found Taiji to be the most challenging. This is probably why I have developed an obsession of the art. I am not ashamed to say that today was one of the more frustrating days of training.

However, everything begins and ends with the single breath. So, each time I start a form, I take a deep breath and begin again. For me, each breath acts as a “reset”. And, just like with my son, my breathing allows me to shed myself of the anger, frustration, and fear that I had the moment before. Anger is not permanent. This is a lesson that I have learned from my son. The simple action of breathing can allow one to focus on the form. The emotion that one may feel previously will melt away. All that is left is the form and the artist expressing it.

To all of my fellow Taiji practitioners out there: do your breathing.

As a student of martial arts, I have been very fascinated with the internal arts as well as the external arts. Cross training in other arts has been a way for me to learn how I move naturally in a martial art and if it is an art for me. My first foray into the “internal” arts was when I took up Taijiquan around five years ago. Learning Tai Chi has taught me how to move from the inside out, something that has helped me in ways that I cannot explain.

However, when I would train in my other arts, I found myself to be the butt of several jokes. “What’s it like learning to sway to other old people in the park?” I am sure that if you are reading this, you know that which I speak. I remember that one of the first conversations I have ever had with my teacher was the perception of Tai Chi. Also, if you are a reader and practitioner of the art, you know that this is quite far from the reality.

From the training that I have had in Tai Chi, I have done pushing hands and chin na applications. I have left the school with many bumps and bruises over the years, all of which have helped to cultivate my training in such a rich art as Taijiquan. During that time, I have studied and trained in Yang form Tai Chi, sword form, and am getting through Chen form. I have worked on silk reeling, qi gong, brick stability training during those years. During this time, the notion of tai chi being an art where the practitioners move slowly in a serene park becomes a cliché that is further and further from my mind.

I belong to a small, close knit group of Tai Chi practitioners, all of whom are serious about our training (we have the bruises to prove it). One of the ways our Sifu instructs us on our form is to explain the “martial application” of the movement. With movements such as “Snake Creeps Down”, in order to understand the movement, one has to understand how it can be applied in a defensive/offensive manner. While it may be true that some instructors may try to minimize the martial application, our Sifu is quick to explore how it can be used as a way to defend one’s self.

As I continued to explore Tai Chi, my Sifu gave me the opportunity to help teach a class. As is the case in many of my martial arts classes, I make a good person to demonstrate on. As I became the resident “tackling dummy” for several of the classes, the new students he trained, learned that Tai Chi is not an art that is merely “old people in the park”. It is a powerful and legitimate art of self-defense. However, the more that I trained with the new students, the more I started to see the beauty of the art to those who may have health limitations and conditions. I have seen many students come into a Tai Chi class to get a good workout, yet improve their balance, regulate breathing, and work out weakened knees. While I have had friends and fellow students of other martial arts go to the hospital or take time off because of the physical stress that comes along with training in heavy external combat arts, the students who studied Tai Chi would continue to come to class day after day and train in a martial art that did not create as much stress.

To this day, I am constantly picked on for studying an “internal” or “soft” art. However, I see the students (of all ages) who come into the school to learn Tai Chi and am proud to count myself among their numbers. Yes, we may be in the park doing our diligence to express ourselves in the form that we are moving to, but you would do well to treat us with the same respect you would to those doing the external arts such as tae kwon do, karate, judo, etc.