Category: Training

  • Counter-Point Neutralizing In T’ai Chi Sparring

    Counter-Point Neutralizing In T’ai Chi Sparring

    Counter-Point Neutralizing in T’ai Chi Sparring
    by David X. Swenson & David Longsdorf

    Abstract

    T’ai chi sparring often relies on the use of pushes, pulls, and joint twisting (chin na) techniques. There are several points on the body that can be touched, pressed, or hooked to briefly neutralize the power and leverage of such an attack. Counterpoints are unusual because they involve much less effort than the forces they neutralize. This article describes six counterpoints and explores how they may work.

    Introduction

    T’ai chi sparring, whether slow motion choreography or fast free-fighting, is often described as a fluid dance between partners, in which they attack, neutralize, and counter-attack. Attacks are typically redirected by deflecting the blow or moving with the force, but in some instances a skilled attack prevents such reaction and balance is upset. The use of counterpoints provides a rapid response to pushes, pulls, and joint twisting techniques, that briefly neutralizes the force. Counterpoints are points on the body of the attacker that, when touched or lightly gripped by the defender, effectively neutralize the force or leverage of the attacker’s technique. This article describes how counterpoints were discovered, describes six of 18 applications that have been developed, and explores several explanations of how they may work.

    After practicing solo forms for several years, many t’ai chi practitioners become proficient at the forms, and increasingly curious about how the forms work. They build sensitivity and begin to explore applications through push-hands (tui shou) and then more spontaneous applications in free sparring (san shou). Some masters have made significant contributions to understanding the mechanics, particularly William Chen, who has exhaustively studied the biomechanics of postures, TT. Liang who emphasized the subtlety of applications, and Stuart Olson, Bruce Kumar Frantzis, Pete Starr, and Don Ethan Miller who emphasize variety of applications. It was in this spirit of curiosity that the Duluth T’ai Chi Study Group began exploring the mechanics of forms in a particular version of slow sparring we have been developing over the past 20 years.

    To many people, their experience of t’ai chi is limited to seeing the slow-motion series of postures studied in the early stages of training that are used to meditate, learn proper form, relax deeply, develop balance, and coordinate all parts of the body. In later stages of practice, especially partner practice and weapons training, speed is increased while the same principles of good form, relaxation, balance and coordination are maintained. Learning to spar usually progresses from simple push-hand exercises between partners, to moderately paced and precisely choreographed attack-defend exchanges, to very fast and spontaneous free fighting. When the first author (Swenson) suffered a back injury and was unable to continue vigorous sparring but was unwilling to forego sparring altogether, he compromised the fast and slow aspects and began experimenting with slow but spontaneous sparring.

    In slow sparring, the partners move at a consistent pace, either slow or moderate pace, and avoid speeding up or changing pace. This is difficult at first because most players want to speed up to deflect the attack; they want to avoid being hit and want to win. However, in t’ai chi, to “invest in losing” helps students better understand where they have been open for attack and how to correct it. Since the slow strikes do not hurt (they lightly touch the opponent), one can spend time in focusing on the principles of movement and understanding the opponent’s movement, not just on continuously defending oneself.

    Sparring at a slow but consistent pace reduces the need for partners to speed up, and therefore reduces competitive and aggressive attitude. It also enhances cooperation and mutual learning among students. This is also a helpful experience for instructors who must model humility by being open to being struck or pushed and learning from it. The sparring proceeds slowly, somewhat faster than the solo form, and as applications emerge, the partners can stop, repeat, and analyze the application. This was how we discovered the counterpoints. Instructor Swenson was sparring with senior student Richard Townsend who began to push his chest. Beginning to lose balance, Swenson responsively hooked his thumb on Townsend’s pushing elbow, and the push was immediately and surprisingly neutralized. The technique of neutralizing the push was so effective that Swenson and t’ai chi partner David Longsdorf began searching for more counterpoints. Although we are continuing to explore more applications, we have currently found 18 counterpoints that effectively neutralize the techniques of push, pull, press, and chin na (wrist techniques and locks).

    Applications

    The principle behind counterpoints is that they involve applying a relatively light pressure on a point on the body (usually a joint) that has the effect of neutralizing a very strong pressure (e.g., push, pull, twist, etc.) on another part of the body. To demonstrate this concept, have a partner push on your chest with their right hand (see Fig. 1). At the same time, lightly hook the crook of your right thumb and wrist to their right elbow. Although you do not apply pressure against their elbow, their effort to push you tends to increase the pressure against that elbow point. This light pressure counteracts their push, thereby neutralizing it. The interesting aspect of this technique is that the defender does not need to apply an equal amount of pressure to the elbow that the attacker is applying to the chest. A minor pressure will neutralize a much stronger push.

    Figure 1. Elbow counter-point to neutralize single-hand push

    We reasoned that if a counterpoint worked effectively to neutralize a push then it might work on a pull as well (see Fig 2.). Have a partner grasp your wrist and pull downward and back in order to break your posture and imbalance you. First try resisting using strength and without using the counterpoint. Usually you will find that you are using a great amount of effort as well as becoming quite stiff, which would enable your opponent to take advantage of this to unbalance you. Next, while your wrist is being pulled back and down, maintain good upright posture but relax, let your arm go slack, and lightly touch the shoulder of the partner with your free hand. This will effectively neutralize the pull.

    Figure 2. Shoulder counter-point to neutralize rearward pull

    The technique seems to work as well against double-hand push. As your partner pushes against your chest with both hands (see Fig. 3), either place your fingers or palm against the back of the elbows and lightly pull toward yourself as they push, or place the palms against the front of the elbows and lightly push forward and upward as your partner pushes forward.

    Figure 3. Elbow counter-point to neutralize push

    Press is a technique unique to the soft arts, and especially applicable to sparring when closing with an opponent. It can be effectively used when one folds the arm from a punch or push into closer proximity to the partner. When your partner begins to press against your forearm and shoulder, lightly touch his shoulder, opposite the pushing hand of the press (see Fig. 4). If the attacker pursues the press while being neutralized by this counterpoint, he loses balance and the press is significantly diminished.

    Figure 4. Shoulder counter-point to neutralize a press

    The splitting technique of diagonal flying can be used to block a strike or single hand push and then upset the opponent over your leg into a throw. The defender can counter this by touching the attacker’s upper shoulder (see Fig. 5).

    Figure 5. Shoulder counter-point to neutralize diagonal flying

    Even chin na techniques appear to have some counterpoint applications. In response to the wrist turning technique (see Fig 6.), the defender is usually turned to the side, breaking posture, and being thrown to the ground. Resisting the turn only results in significant wrist pain and eventually moving with the throw. Using counterpoints we have found that the pressure and leverage of the throw can be largely neutralized. In the figure, notice how the defender’s arm rises into ward-off posture. The ward-off lightly presses against both wrists of the attacker.

    Figure 6. Ward-off to neutralize lateral wrist chin-na

    Mechanics of Counterpoints

    There have been several attempts to explain how counter-points work, especially since the amount of effort applied by the defender appears much less than that applied by the attacker. Many t’ai chi practitioners are comfortable simply saying that it is accomplished by using “neutralizing energy.” While that may or may not be true, we have been interested in understanding the biomechanics of this interesting technique. We have considered misdirection, suggestion, counterforce, and motor circuits as possible explanations, and we have explored these with other martial artists, physical therapists, and exercise physiologists.

    A common demonstration of ch’i at tournaments and conferences is to have three to five people in a line push against a single t’ai chi player. The demonstration looks impressive and even comical in that the line of people make no progress in pushing the player back; one would expect five people to easily overpower one person. On careful examination however, it can usually be seen that the t’ai chi player uses misdirection by having the line of pushers slightly redirect the push into his leg to root more strongly, while at the same time he slightly uproots the first pusher who is likewise being pushed from the rear by others. The effect of this uproot is to make the first pusher attempt to regain balance, and does so by resisting those pushing from behind. Thus, the t’ai chi player only needs to imbalance the first pusher who then resists those behind him. In principle, a well-placed counter-balance reduces by magnitudes the strength of the push.

    It could be argued that expectation and suggestion tends to bias the outcome in a demonstration. There are stories of Cheng Man-Ching who got a new student to jump up and down by tapping on his head, but which elder students knowingly smiled at, saying that it was the student’s exaggeration. Sifu Swenson often uses a demonstration involving a series of subtle suggestions to enable easy pulling down of an outstretched arm– that even worked successfully with Arnold Schwartzenegger many years ago. Naive students, wishing to please a teacher, consciously or unconsciously tend to cooperate, not wishing to embarrass the teacher, or because they too believe in the “power” of the technique. To rule this out, we have tested the technique on a variety of people who neither knew our skill level in the martial arts nor were informed of the outcome expected. The effects of the counterpoints does not seem to be affected by their expectation.

    Counterpoints may be explained by the simple idea of a counterforce: that is, a direct force (e.g., push) is countered by an opposing force that is equal to the attacking force. However, the lesser force of the counterpoints suggest that it is not just a direct counterforce. Physical therapists and exercise physiologists who have experienced the technique have suggested that the counterpoint stimulates a motor circuit outside the level of consciousness. It may be that the line of force applied in the counterpoint does not block the force head-on, but disrupts the balance of the person so that effort is reapplied to maintaining attacker’s balance and is therefore taken away from the attack. A related explanation is that the counterpoint does not affect the attacker, but merely helps maintain the balance of the defender.

    While these various explanations unfortunately leave us without a decisive explanation of how counterpoints work, the real value is in the asking and exploring of such questions. What is needed is further testing with biometric equipment in which actual force and balance measurements can be assessed while the techniques are being applied.

    Counter-counterpoints

    As much as we have found counter-points to be interesting and effective, there are counters to counter-points as well. This should not be surprising to most t’ai chi players since the interactive and dynamic nature of t’ai chi is more like an ongoing game of rock-paper-scissors. In sparring, each of the players is sensitive to the maneuver of the partner and moves to adjust to and take advantage of the partner’s attack and posture. Taking the line of thinking that any technique should likely have a counter to it, we explored how counterpoints could be overcome. It did not take long to find that when the attacker found the push neutralized, a circle or spiral could be used by the attacker to push again and overcome the neutralization. This spiral is much like the silk reeling energy technique (chan suu jin) of Chen style t’ai chi.

    Finally, we considered that the chan suu jin counter might also be countered. After much more experimenting, we discovered that by the defender following the same spiralling used by the attacker, the attacker’s counter could also be neutralized. The important idea throughout all this discussion of counterpoints is that such neutralization, though temporary, gives the defender a moment to counter with an alternate technique. By learning the counterpoints, t’ai chi players come to a deeper understanding of this complex and subtle art, as well as learn practical skills for application in self defense.

    Much of this is reminiscent of the story of the little boy who asked his father how the world is held up– what is the mechanism? The father decisively replied that “an elephant holds up the world.” The curious child thought about the answer awhile, then asked again, “so what holds up the elephant?” The parent, seeing where this was going, quickly said, “it’s elephants all the way down.” In t’ai chi, every technique has a counter, every counter has a counter, and it’s counters all the way down.

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  • Training with Mindfulness

    Training with Mindfulness

    On January 22, 2022, one of the most influential Zen Buddhist monks, Thich Nhat Hanh passed away.  I recently listened to an interview he did with NPR’s Terry Gross.  In the interview it is mentioned that Thich Nhat Hanh started a movement called “Engaged Buddhism”.  This movement combines the practice of meditation with anti-war work.  Gross mentioned the juxtaposition of the concept of “stillness” associated with meditation with the concept of fleeing in wartime.  She asked “Were those two things compatible?  Were you able to practice stillness and the ability to run for your life when you needed to?”

    Source: Wikipedia

    In response to this, he said, “That is a matter of training.  The practice is in the practice of mindfulness.  Mindfulness is the energy that helps you to be aware of what is going on.  Like, when you walk, you can walk mindfully.  When you drink, you can drink mindfully.  And when you run, you can run mindfully.”  He also said, “The essential is that you are mindful why you do things, whether you do it slowly or quickly.”  It is this quote that caused me to think about my tai chi practice.

    Whenever I practice with students who are just starting their journey into tai chi, they are shocked when I refer to the martial arts history of tai chi.  Many will wonder how can one use tai chi as a form of self-defense?  I have spoken to (and written) at length about the stereotypical view of tai chi: slow movements, graceful motions, dance-like rhythms, etc.  Many tai chi teachers I have come across have spoken about the health, moving meditation, and martial arts principles behind taijiquan.  Many have told me that they have come across this perception many times.

    It is at this point that I think about the words of Thich Nhat Hanh and his notion of “mindfulness.”  I feel that when we practice tai chi slowly, we are mindful of our movements.  We practice to be aware of each bend, twist, and step.  We can turn our mind off and allow our bodies to “feel” the movements (thereby being a form of moving meditation).  We can focus on the ward off, fa jin, or strike (thereby focusing on the martial application).  No matter what you are looking for, it is important to practice mindfulness.  Be aware of your rooting.  Can you stay connected with the earth?  How do you time your breathing with the movements of your form?

    A tai chi practitioner can will practice their forms slow as well as fast.  Many may only see the forms done slowly.  Using wide/large sweeping movements and moving slow and with great control, may make the form look beautiful.  However, with faster expression, whipping movements, and great power, one can see the martial applications in the same form.  To watch a great master such as Chen Bing perform a Chen form has both beauty and power.

    So, whether one is practicing for meditation purposes, internal health/wellness purposes, or martial arts purposes (or all of the above), it is quite important to be aware of the purpose(s) for your training.  Each time I train I may focus on one or two principles that I wish to exercise (or improve upon).  No matter if you are moving fast, or moving slow, keep aware of your movements and be in the moment.  Train mindfully, friends.

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  • What Makes Successful Tai Chi Students And Teachers?

    What Makes Successful Tai Chi Students And Teachers?

    Alan Ludmer at the World Tai Chi Day in 2001

    As a former educator and a lifelong student and teacher, I have often reflected upon what makes successful teachers and students. Recently, my friend Nasser Butt, publisher of the award-winning UK Martial Arts publication, Lift Hands Internal Arts Magazine, recently sent me his excellent study, “Whose Line is It Anyway? Part of this study presented a scholarly in-depth analysis regarding Cheng Man Ching’s (CMC) Tai Chi Chuan training and his relationship with the legendary Tai Chi Chuan Master Yang Cheng Fu. Regardless of one’s position regarding this controversial topic, I applaud Nasser’s courage in tacking topics sure to ruffle some Tai Chi feathers. Kudos to him for providing more sorely needed academic investigation into important Tai Chi issues.

    Nasser’s study triggered a reexamine of my own thoughts regarding what makes successful Tai Chi teachers and students. Who cares if teachers are extraordinary people or mendacious jerks? What if their ability is modest, or superlative, or if they were great fighters but couldn’t teach, or great teachers who couldn’t fight? Why are some students successful and so many are not successful? What makes a good teacher or a good student? As serious Tai Chi students, what do we need from our teachers? What are our responsibilities as students?  As serious Tai Chi teachers, how do we help our students achieve their goals?

    In my over 50 years of internal arts study, I have been blessed with two amazing teachers, Professor Huo Chi Kwan and Master Tuey Staples. They taught that there are several essential components and communalities in successful Tai Chi students and teachers.

    What makes successful students?

    1. Students must have a destination and sufficient motivated to achieve it. If you don’t know where you are going, any road will take you there. There is no right or wrong road, but every student needs a direction and plenty of motivation.

    2. Potential and beginning students should begin with developing specific goals and time frames. What do you want to learn? Do you want martial excellence, enhanced health, spiritual growth, etc.  Why do you want to learn it?  When a student understands why they want to learn a subject, they become much more motivated.

    How quickly do you need to learn it? Tai Chi is a lifelong process. Much of the art is counter intuitive, martial mastery is a long and difficult process. Are you willing to commit the serious time and effort necessary to achieve your goal?

    When a student can answer these questions, they are ready to find a teacher. 

    What makes successful teachers?

    Tai Chi teachers must have the knowledge and teaching ability to help students achieve their goals. Tai Chi Teachers are human beings with all the good and bad that being human entails. Teachers can come in all shapes, genders, ages and ethnicities. They don’t have to be legendary fighters. Angelo Dundee was Mohammad Ali’s lifelong boxing coach. I doubt that he could have beaten up Ali, but he had the ability to help Ali become a legend. Teachers do not necessarily have to be long term students of traditional masters. Knowledge can be acquired in numerous ways.

    Tai Chi teachers do need to have a solid understanding of Tai Chi Chuan, its principles, applications, a commitment to teaching, and the ability to communicate effectively. They should be able to understand and execute energy-based movement. Professor Huo Chi Kwan often told me that Tai Chi is boxing for physical and mental health, the self defense is secondary.  However, teachers need to understand the self defense to be able to convey to their students the full benefits of the art. Master Tuey Staples’ great insight is that all application of principles is contextual. Good teachers must understand the principles and their contextual application to help students reach their full potential.

    When teachers understand principles, application, and have sufficient communication skills and a commitment to teaching, they are ready to teach.

    Caveats

    Some additional thoughts for both students and teachers.

    1. Good teachers encourage student questions. Students should never be afraid to respectfully question their teacher. They need to strive to understand the “what and why” of what they are doing. Tai Chi is not slow-motion arm waving. When students understand the why of Tai Chi, it will help them to create to own art. Good teachers should be able to answer student’s questions in ways that they can comprehend. Good teachers will not pretend that Tai Chi is not a martial art because they are uncomfortable or not knowledgeable about martial energetic movement. Tai Chi is boxing for physical and mental health, but the martial provides the key to understanding.

    2. Students should avoid teachers who respond to questions with Master Somebody said that we do it this way. Tai Chi is an art of constant change. Avoid those who say it is always this, or it’s never that. Learning is liberating, not encapsulating. Good teachers will provide the tools to help students find their own answers.

    3. Teachers and students should be skeptical of magical answers. With all due respect to the old Chinese Masters, they learned and taught within the parameters of their own culture. We can and should honor their culture and abilities, but we’re 21st century westerners, not better, not worse, just different. Like everyone else we learn best within the context of our own culture. Using obscure Chinese terms may sound cool and that you posses some secret knowledge, but if you can’t explain it is simple English, then you don’t understand it. Good teachers will explain things in language that students can understand.

    4. Teachers and students need to practice slowly. The art is practiced slowly so that you can listen and feel what is happening. Use the move beats and constant centering to discover what is happening. I always seemed to move too quickly and Master Tuey Staples taught me to inhale on beats 1 and 3, exhale on beats 2 and 4. The purpose was to slow me down and force me to listen.  If you can’t do the moves slow, you can’t do them quickly. Good teachers will constantly try to slow students down.

    5. Students should avoid teachers who are ego driven. They are damaged people and usually poor teachers. It is not about them being Master Somebody, good teachers are committed to growing their students.

    6. Hopefully, by diligent study and arduous training students and teachers can learn to believe in their own abilities and ultimately find our own answers. We will then transcend from the need for a superhuman teacher and attain the ability to accept our teachers and ourselves for who we are.

    Conclusion

    Ultimately Tai Chi should be a vehicle for physical, mental, and emotion growth. In time, one should transcend from imitating some teacher to make their own art. Serious students are not puppets. They don’t need to be governed by a particular style, form, or teacher. Tai Chi Chuan study is like a scaffold used to construct a building. When the scaffolding comes down, the building has to stand on its own. Like the building, Tai Chi students must stand on their own regardless of who were their teachers. It is all about personal commitment. Confucius’ Doctrine of the Mean states that the superior person finds in themselves what lesser people seek in others. The answers we seek are within ourselves.

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  • Uniting Yin And Yang In Taijiquan

    Uniting Yin And Yang In Taijiquan

     

    In Taijiquan (太極拳) the concept of harmonizing yin (阴) and yang (阳) is commonly given in dualistic statements like having neither excess nor deficiency. But avoiding excess (yang) and deficiency (yin) means that one needs to be where yin and yang meet/unite. When the energies are united, then hard (yang) and soft (yin) mutually help each other (刚柔相济 gang rou xiang ji).

    Practitioners often view yin and yang in a dualistic manner concerning oneself and one’s opponent. Phrases like “use soft to overcome [or control] hard” (以柔克刚 yi rou ke [or 制 zhi] gang) further this perception by reinforcing the view that “internal” styles like Taijiquan should be soft relative to “external” style opponents who are hard. But there should also be a unification of yin and yang (e.g. soft and hard; passive and aggressive; receiving and issuing; retreating and advancing; etc.) within oneself.

    Uniting yin and yang results in non-duality, and is sometimes called the “middle way” or being neutral. On a large scale this concept can be illustrated by one side of the body receiving/neutralizing an opponent’s force and using this to turn one’s body such that the other side of the body simultaneously attacks that opponent (making the defense and attack one action). However, uniting yin and yang within oneself has many degrees which can vary from large and obvious to being so small that it is unnoticeable to an outside observer.

    I will begin with swordsmanship to better illustrate the concept of uniting yin and yang because, when using a single weapon, the complexity of interactions is much more limited, and therefore clearer to see, than weaponless combat where many simultaneous interactions, through multiple points of contact, often occur. Since Taiji saber/dao (刀, refers to the single edged sword and is sometimes called a “broadsword”) often spars with limited blade contact, it can provide a clear example for using the middle way in one’s spacing/distancing with an opponent.

    In western fencing matches, observers often see the competitors lunging forward to attack when they think that they may have an opening, but then jumping back to try and get beyond the range of their opponent’s attacks or counterattacks. This is using primarily yin or yang; a separation of these qualities.

    For Taiji saber/dao we may instead try to unite yin with yang by maintaining a closer distance that allows a practitioner to evade (or deflect) the opponent’s attack while remaining within counterattacking range. We do not want to disengage (jump out of range) because that would represent just yin. Likewise we cannot get too close (too yang) since the opponent’s edged weapon can easily cut us if it makes contact. Our retreat (yin) should contain the potential to counterattack (yang); our attack (yang) should not be over-committed and should contain the potential for changing to defense (yin) without getting too close to the opponent.

    We seek to maintain a range that allows us to evade the opponent’s powerful saber/dao attacks while retaining the ability to counterattack. We hope their attacks leave them vulnerable to counterattacks, rather than us moving away merely to get out of range. We want our defense to set up our offense. In practice, some counterattacks are nearly simultaneous with the defensive movement because, as soon as the opponent can reach us with their weapon, we also are within range to reach them. Often this translates into intercepting their wrist (截腕 jie wan) since it is the closest body part to us.

    This principle of maintaining the range rather than retreating outside of attacking range, is sometimes expressed by dodging with one’s body while attacking with the saber/dao, often using a back weighted posture when attacking. This can also be expressed by leaning the body backwards to avoid the opponent’s attack and returning to upright in order to be within range when counterattacking; or by lifting a leg to avoid a cut and stepping back down when counterattacking. Depending on one’s forms and training drills, many other techniques illustrating this principle may be practiced.

    Because of its emphasis on positioning and timing, saber/dao training can be viewed as being the foundation for all short weapons. Sword/jian (劍 double-edged straight sword) can be somewhat more complex since the weapon is not swung as powerfully or with as much momentum as the saber/dao, and is therefore better suited for techniques that attempt to control the opponent’s weapon through deflections and control through contact. Despite their differences, sword/jian employs skills acquired from learning saber/dao.

    Single sword/jian sparring can be used to illustrate uniting yin and yang in a more complex situation, that of interacting with a single point of contact with the weapon of the opponent. In addition to saber/dao distance and timing skills, now the two participants should add the skill of uniting yin and yang at the point of contact between their swords. Practitioners should have yin and yang harmonized around the contact point of their own sword/jian, as well as harmonizing with the energy of the opponent’s sword/jian.

    Harmonizing yin and yang at the contact point is often achieved by pivoting. If the root third of the sword/jian (the proximal, or third of the blade that is closer to the handle) is deflecting the opponent’s blade towards one’s side, then the tip third (distal, or third closest to the tip) is often pivoted to remain pointed towards the opponent. Likewise, if the tip is moving sideways, then the handle of the sword/jian often pivots towards the opponent.

    Pivoting the sword/jian around the point of contact with an opponent’s blade means that there is yin on one side of the contact point, and yang on the other. One portion of the sword/jian is moving in one direction while the other side is moving the other direction. As long as there is a pivot at the point of contact, the sword/jian will have yin on one side and yang on the other, i.e. the pivot at the point of contact with the opponent’s blade will be the dividing line between yin and yang, and this is represented by the “s-curve” line dividing the two halves of the standard taiji diagram (taijitu 太極圖).

    When defending while pivoting at the point of contact with the opponent’s weapon, one is more yin and would be on the s-curve in the bottom half of the accompanying illustration. When attacking while pivoting at the point of contact with the opponent’s weapon, one would be more yang and would be on the s-curve in the upper half of the diagram. By pivoting at the point of contact with the opponent’s blade, one can maintain the potential for both defense and attack simultaneously, even though either energy may dominate any particular interaction.

    This pivoting can be practiced during “sticky” sword/jian free play, a type of practice that is fairly common in Taiji jian classes that use interactive drills and free play. Pivoting can be employed even when practice involves breaking contact with the opponent, such as when maneuvering while keeping the tip of one’s sword/jian aiming at the opponent.

    If, instead of pivoting, a practitioner tries to block an opponent’s blade to the side by moving the entire sword/jian towards the side, then only one energy is being expressed and one becomes susceptible to changes that the opponent may make (like pivoting around the block in order to attack). Likewise, if one over commits to an attack without consideration of continuing into defense then, if the attack fails, they will be susceptible to the opponent’s counterattack. These vulnerabilities are due to separating yin from yang, doing one or the other rather than harmonizing both together.

    Of course, practitioners should also harmonize with their opponent. When opponents emphasize attacking, practitioners should balance it with yielding and neutralization. When they retreat or leave gaps, practitioners should advance and flow into the spaces that the opponent collapses away from.

    When we engage in weaponless interactions, all of the preceding qualities should be maintained in order to harmonize yin with yang. It is the spacing and timing, and interaction at the point(s) of contact, that allow us to use sticking and adhering, connecting and following (粘黏連隨 zhan nian lian sui), which are principle characteristics of Taijiquan interactions with opponents.

    Maintaining harmony between yin and yang allows practitioners to maintain their six directions, i.e. balancing up and down, left and right, and forward and backward. A properly inflated ball, due to its inflated spherical structure, maintains harmony in all directions, but it is much more difficult for humans to do so. We want to harmonize the opposites so that we do not over commit to one or the other. We want to maintain yin plus yang rather than separating into yin or yang.

    The harmony between yin and yang also allows us to avoid butting against (resisting, being excessive, having too much) and losing connection (running away or separating, being deficient, having too little). This is reflected in sayings like don’t separate or resist (不丢顶 bu diu ding) and don’t butt against or collapse, neither losing nor resisting (顶匾丢抗 ding bian diu kang).

    The uniting of yin and yang is also reflected in the saying “stillness in motion, motion in stillness” (靜中有動 動中有靜 jing zhong you dong, dong zhong you jing). Yin is associated with stillness while yang is associated with movement, but neither is completely separated from the other. We want to use stillness when movement is not needed and the appropriate amount of movement when warranted. We want to maintain a calm (yin) mind even while moving (yang) quickly and with agility.

    The relationship between stillness and motion can be illustrated with the ancient taiji diagram (below left) where the yin and yang energies cycle around a clear center. The “central equilibrium” (中定 zhong ding) of one’s body is analogous to the clear center and remains still when the yin and yang move around it. This unites yin with yang. It can also be likened to the functioning of a wheel, like the antique Chinese wheel pictured (below right). The wheel’s center, which attaches to the axel, stays relatively still while there is large movement at the rim of the wheel where it contacts the ground while turning forward or backward.

    When referring to the practitioner, this relationship is illustrated by this center of one’s body and the periphery. It is also used in relation to an opponent. The Taijiquan practitioner can remain relatively stationary while the opponent is controlled in a manner that moves them around the periphery (like the periphery of a ball moves things around its center). Small movements can effect large changes.

    It should be obvious from the diversity of the information presented above, that uniting yin and yang in Taiji is a broad philosophical concept that defines most of what we do in our art. A variety of practices (like weapons work) can aid in the understanding of these concepts. Different Taijiquan styles, as well as different schools, have varying emphases and interpretations of the basic rules of practice. Therefore it can be beneficial for students to be exposed to numerous viewpoints and concepts, in order to more fully incorporate the harmonization of yin and yang into their personal practice.

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  • Go Slow To Go Fast—And More: A Rationale For Slow T’ai Chi Practice

    Go Slow To Go Fast—And More: A Rationale For Slow T’ai Chi Practice

    A common joke about t’ai chi is about a practitioner who is confronted by a bully to fight. The practitioner agrees to go outside and fight, but tells the bully, “it will have to be in slow motion!” The popular misconception about t’ai chi is that the practice is just a slow motion dance, and many people are surprised that it is also a highly skilled martial art. But what about this slow motion aspect?

    Different speeds produce different effects for learning. At fast speeds one can appreciate the momentum of swinging and turning as well as experience the force of strikes, but it is too fast to attend to details and subtleties. Medium speed is perhaps a balance between learning momentum and balance, but still does not provide the detailed attention necessary for exploring nuances of movement.

    When moving fast through forms, one set of muscles becomes active to initiate the movement and another stops the movement. Between initiation and stopping there are many other processes occurring, but we move so rapidly we seldom notice them. Slow movement enables us to pay closer attention to relaxing muscles that are not needed for the movement, aligning and sinking the body, relaxing abdominal breathing (we tend to hold it or breathe in the upper chest when concentrating), and linking and coordinating all parts of the body.

    Learning t’ai chi is a complex motor process. Consider the principles of posture from the classics: Keep the head upright, hollow the chest, relax the waist, differentiate substantial and insubstantial, sink the shoulders and drop the elbows, coordinate upper and lower parts of the body, and so on. Each of these requires close attention and practice, let alone how they are all finally integrated into the flowing movements of t’ai chi. Slow and repetitive practice allows attending to each one and gradually integrating them into a fluid form.

    The benefits of t’ai chi practice are generally not noticed until after the practitioner has learned the basic forms and can begin to pay attention to other subtleties of the art. The slow pace of doing forms begins to create what is commonly called “muscle memory” but is actually “motor learning” in the brain at both a conscious and unconscious level. It takes hundreds and up a thousand repetitions to develop good motor learning. A fatty myelin sheath wraps the nerves, provides structure, and insulates the nerve for more rapid and efficient transmission of the nerve impulse, just like the insulation of household wiring. The more times a neural circuit is used, the more myelination occurs, and the more accurate, efficient, automatic, and unconscious it becomes.
    Brain scan studies in 2012 and 2018 of t’ai chi practitioners versus non-practitioners showed that practitioners had a thicker complex of nerve connections in the cortex or covering layer of the brain. They also showed that they had more developed areas of the brain for certain skills such as observation, carrying out motor tasks, sensory awareness of body parts, and integration of emotion and thinking. These findings were greater for practitioners who practiced more and longer over years.

    Physical posture is maintained by deeper layers of muscle fibers, called “static fibers”, while movement is executed by phasic or “fast-twitch” fibers. Static fibers work for a long time without tiring and keep us upright and aligned, while phasic fibers can burn out and fatigue. When posture is incorrect, the postural phasic fibers begin to compensate for the fatiguing static fibers. The extra work and tension to maintain posture can interfere with the efficiency of motion. Incorrect fast practice installs movement errors that eventually become unconscious, habitual, and are difficult to reprogram. Consequently, good t’ai chi alignment is relaxed but alert and posture feels effortless and enables agile movements, while tense postures are tiring and easy to uproot.

    Alignment of the body not only allows for efficient movement and redirecting force, but repetitions in good form also place strain on the skeleton so that calcium is taken into the bones and makes them stronger. Ma Yueh Liang, a physician and prominent master of Wu style t’ai chi, conducted a study of practitioners and found that they had increased bone density along the lines of force developed by good body alignment and movement.

    The persistent practice of deep relaxation and good postural alignment in forms can have remarkable effects on reducing muscle tension. Master T. T. Liang recounted the story of his visiting a reclusive old master in the Western mountains of Taiwan. The old man was reluctant to accept visitors, but he finally relented and demonstrated the Golden Rooster on One Leg posture and asked Liang to feel the tension in his calf on the standing leg. Liang said that the leg muscles were soft, with only the deep muscle fibers maintaining the man’s posture. The old man laughingly told Liang, that Liang had learned “wood style t’ai chi” (too tense), while he had learned “cotton t’ai chi.”Super Slow Training.

    World Hall of Fame golfer, Ben Hogan was among the first athletes to promote slow motion practice of his golf swings to analyze in more detail the mechanics of the swing and to train specific muscles for more precise and efficient action. The method is widely used today in golf practice, and other prominent athletes such as Monica Seles in tennis and Jonny Wilkinson in rugby have taken it up. Practitioners take as long as one full minute to execute a single posture. Or as football coach, Tom Martinez says it: “it’s not how fast you can do it; it’s how slow you can do it correctly.”

    Ken Hutchins, an inventor and exercise equipment designer, developed the super slow motion strength training method in the early 1990s. He discovered that super slow weight exercise with repetitive movements increased muscle strength faster than rapid movements. The slower the action, the more muscle filaments become activated and cross-connected, and that leads to greater workloads and thus more muscle development. Chen t’ai chi often includes forms with the quan-dao (關刀) (a long-handled broadsword) as part of its regimen, but it tends to be lighter (about 10 lbs) than the heavy training quan-dao of Shaolin that weighs about 40 pounds. The bagua dadao (big knife 大刀) can weigh between 5-10 pounds and is 4-5 feet long– a challenging weapon to swing. Slow motion practice with these large weapons can provide both the benefits of weight training as well as teach rooting, alignment, linking, continuity, and efficiency of movement that are essential in the martial arts.

    In the heat of a contest or self-defense, it is easy to become tense, and this in turn tends to produce more tension and anxiety, and reduces deep abdominal breathing. Tension also can interfere with the linking of body segments and development of torque—the “silk reeling” (chan suu jin 纏絲精) emphasized in Chen style. Practicing very slowly and gradually speeding up helps reduce unnecessary tension.

    Meditation and Mindfulness

    T’ai chi is often described as meditation in motion, and more specifically as mindful meditation. The prominent psychologist, Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi (pronounced Me-High Chick-Sent-Me-High), has studied athletes from many sports and coined the term, “flow” for the focused, alert, and unselfconscious state of mind when they are at the peak of their performance. Flow has been described by various athletes as the self and the activity becoming one unit; thoughts move to the background, awareness of body and environment become enhanced (mindfulness), and there is a sense of full participation in the present situation.

    The flow experience is strikingly familiar with Chuang Tzu’s story of the Taoist sage, Cook Ting. Ting was butchering an ox for Lord Wen-Hui, who complimented Ting who showed relaxed grace and skill in the cutting. Ting replied, “a mediocre cook changes his knife once a month because he hacks. I have had this knife for 19 years and cut up a thousand oxen, but the blade is just as good as when I got it. Without thinking I find the hollows with my knife and follow things as they are. Then the meat falls away.”The practice of mindfulness has reached faddish proportions in the health literature, but its real benefits should not be overshadowed by pop enthusiasm. Being mindful or “being in the present” is important in martial application as well as for health benefits. Mindfulness is nothing more than being fully aware in the present—not thinking, planning, or trying—just being and participating. While early t’ai chi practice involves paying conscious attention to your posture, direction of your feet, weight distribution, and so on, mindfulness is an openness to the flow of awareness, both internal and external. During forms practice, internal awareness may focus on internal sensations. External awareness may involve noticing sensations such as the colors and forms that come into your direct and peripheral vision, sounds carried to your ears, texture of the ground underfoot, temperature around you, and smells in the air. During sparring, mindfulness may be the awareness of space that you and your partner share in complementary moves but without thinking or planning ahead, or awareness of the slight changes in pressure of touch that signals a push.

    In the practice of t’ai chi sparring, thinking ahead of your goals or where to strike can cloud your awareness of the many opportunities that present themselves as you move with your partner. Staying in the moment with your partner results in your push or strike simply moving into the opening unconsciously, often surprising both you and your partner—like water flowing through rocks.

    Several years ago, I received a painful back strain and was faced with stopping sparring for quite a while. Instead, I thought it might be interesting to see if free sparring (san shou 散手) might be done slowly and enable me to continue practicing. Our class began to develop slow motion sparring as part of our regular practice routine. Instead of trying to strike the partner, we focused on mindfulness and flow, and merely watched as our hands slowly found openings. Slow sparring enables seeing the patterns of a partner’s movements and strikes, and this allows earlier adapting to the strikes. Such a complementary approach is also helpful when partners are mismatched in size, age, style, or experience. The purpose was not to compete or win, but to participate with the partner and observe how being in the moment would allow more fluid yielding, deflections and entries. It takes persistence to avoid speeding up to “win”, and the t’ai chi adage to “invest in losing” is at the heart of this practice.

    Slowness and Healing

    Injuries, surgeries, and aging can result in changing and limiting the way we move. We increasingly restrict our range of motion and it becomes habitual and feels normal as we become desensitized to body sensation—technically called “sensory motor amnesia.” Fast movement activates these habits of movement and maintains their inefficiency. However, practicing slowly with mindfulness can help identify the sensitive, awkward, and sometimes painful areas and enable working them through.

    A variety of studies in the medical literature show slow t’ai chi practice promotes relaxation and reduced stress, enhances immune function, reduces inflammation, decreases pain, improves stability and balance, lowers blood pressure and heart rate, increases range of motion, and provides mild to moderate aerobic intensity. It can also help develop attention, focus and patience as shown in studies with youths with attentional and hyperactivity problems (ADHD). Even brief periods of practice (10 sessions over 5 weeks) have showed improvements in lower anxiety, reduced hyperactivity, less daydreaming, and more appropriate emotions.
    Finally, fast self-defense applications are often accompanied by intense and sometimes aggressive emotions. With continued practice, such intense emotions become tied to the forms, rather than calm application that improves self-defense performance. Learning from the beginning with slow forms and calm emotions provides better self-regulation of emotions, both for stress management and self-defense. T’ai chi has been shown to decrease stress levels, depression, anxiety, and enhance emotional stability.

    Practicing very slowly is one of the more challenging aspects of martial arts training. In a culture where we like quick fixes, rapid advancement, and fast and powerful actions, slow motion seems counter-intuitive. Yet, this mindful practice is a way to ensure thorough development of the body, mind, and spirit of kung fu.

    Remember to check out our other articles on Tai Chi Training!

  • Grasp the Sparrow’s Tail (And Look At It)

    Grasp the Sparrow’s Tail (And Look At It)

    The Progressive Forms of Fu Style Tai Chi – Grasp Bird’s Tail
    By Tommy Kirchhoff
    Translation by Gordon Yung

    Most experts believe there are only five major styles of Tai Chi Chuan, which are derived from five families: Chen (陳), Yang (楊), Sun (孫), Wu (吳) and Wu/Hao (武/郝). These critics proudly purport that all the rest are just lesser sub-sets of the big five.

    It is much less known but still a fact that around 1928 the Chinese Central Government named Fu Zhen Song (傅振嵩) as the chief instructor of BaGuaZhang (八卦掌) for the entire nation of China. Fu originally learned Chen Style (陳式) Tai Chi from Chen YenShi (陳延熙), the lineage holder of that epoch and the father of Chen FaKe (陳發科); Fu learned BaGuaZhang from most of the inside students of Dong HaiChuan (董海川). Fu traveled the country and exchanged martial information with many of the best practitioners, and eventually became very close friends with both Yang ChengFu (楊澄甫) and Sun LuTang (孫祿堂).


    Front row, left to right: Fu ZhongWen, Yang ChengFu, Fu ZhenSong. In the back row over Yang’s left shoulder is Fu WingFay.

    Fu Zhen Song and Sun LuTang were both grandmasters of the Wudang Fists (武當拳): Tai Chi, BaGuaZhang, Hsing-I Chuan (形意拳), and Wudang Sword (武當劍). Both were great innovators of these arts, as well as superb teachers. Fu and Sun each combined elements from BaGua and Hsing-I into their respective Tai Chi styles, and they enjoyed collaborating ideas, techniques and methodologies with one another. Even now in 2019 many Sun Style (孫式) practitioners teach Fu Style (傅式), and vice-versa.


    Lin ChaoZhen, Fu ZhenSong, and Fu WingFay.

    It is said that the name “internal martial arts” has several meanings, but Neijia (internal arts, 內家) comes first from inside families. Fu ZhenSong’s martial heir was his first-born son, Fu WingFay (傅永輝). Although Fu ZhenSong was one of the greatest innovators of the Wudang arts, his son Fu WingFay grew up learning from many of the greatest grandmasters in addition to studying under his father for 40 years. Fu WingFay was also an innovator and a great teacher. Fu ZhenSong did not appreciate many of the changes Fu WingFay made to the Fu Style Wudang Fist system; but Fu WingFay earned the inheritance of the Fu Style system, so it became his to modify.


    Fu WingFay

    Fu WingFay’s first major change to the system was developing “Waist Skills.” He integrated bending forward, backward and sideways to step, move, slip and to control one’s self and his or her opponent. He also made the system much softer by eliminating iron body training, and also by developing a recoiling fajin (power emission, fājìn, 發勁). He worked for many years to develop a system of teaching with clear levels for beginner, intermediate and advanced study. He changed some of the postures so they made more sense for applications, and smoothed out many details and fine skills. He also omitted some of the old forms, such as the myriad of Fu Style BaGua spear forms.

    To get an idea of the excellence of Fu WingFay’s tutelage look no further than his student Grandmaster Bow Sim Mark (麥寶嬋) and her illustriously famous movie-star son, Donnie Yen (甄子丹).


    Fu WingFay and Donnie Yen

    The second generation of Fu Style also procreated an inside-family martial heir for the third generation. Fu WingFay had eight children, but only Victor Fu (Fu ShengLong, 傅勝龍) would become the martial-arts careerist who inherited the lineage. Victor Fu was immersed in the Fu Style Wudang Fist, and trained under his father for almost 40 years. So, too, did Victor Fu learn to innovate and develop the state of the arts, and teach them to many interested students.


    Fu ZhenSong with young Victor Fu

    Pull back (lǚ, 捋) is an inward pulling with both hands. Press (jǐ, 擠) is an outward expansion of structure using one horizontal arm with the other hand pushing the back of the wrist. Push (àn, 按) is a rolling, downward push with both hands. Directionally speaking Grasp Bird’s Tail is: up, in, out, and down.

    But Fu Style teaches a fifth movement in Grasp Bird’s Tail that is present in other styles but perhaps goes unlabelled. Roll back is the movement between press and push (Grandmaster Victor Fu says the most representative character is 分, or separate). In Fu Style, roll back goes up with both wrists, out laterally, and then down with the palms facing each other.

    Victor Fu, Ward off, photo by Vincent Wong


    Victor Fu, Flick transition between ward off and pull back, photo by Vincent Wong


    Victor Fu, Pull back, photo by Vincent Wong


    Victor Fu, Press, photo by Vincent Wong


    Victor Fu, Roll back, photo by Vincent Wong


    Victor Fu, Push, photo by Vincent Wong

    The Fu Style Tai Chi 105-Form teaches several variations of Grasp Bird’s Tail. As the 105-Form essentially follows the same sequence as the Yang Style 108-Form, GBT is one of the first postures. Whereas other family styles teach a simple palm change between ward off and pull back, Fu Style teaches a quick “flick” palm change with an upward-facing palm. Whereas ward off is meant to intercept and lift up an opponent’s arm, the hand flicks underneath, around and onto the top of the opponent’s arm to set up the pull back.

     


    Victor Fu, Waggle transition after push, photo by Vincent Wong

    After the push, Fu Style teaches a “waggle” transition. With the fingers pointing up, the
    waggle is a small, defensive circle with both hands. If performing Grasp Bird’s Tail –
    right, the waggle circles clockwise starting at six o’clock, up to twelve o’clock, and then
    back to six o’clock.


    Victor Fu, Embrace tiger return to mountain, brush knee, photo by Vincent Wong


    Victor Fu, Insert transition between brush knee and ward off, photo by Vincent Wong


    Victor Fu, High ward off, photo by Vincent Wong

    The first section of the Fu Style 105-Form is short. After crossing the hands in front, the first movement of the second section is Embrace Tiger, Return to Mountain (bao hu gui
    shan, 抱虎歸山). This movement starts with Brush Knee – right (you lou xi ao bu, 右摟膝拗步); then the torso turns left and the left arm draws back. The right hand moves across and “inserts” by raising up until the right elbow meets the left fingers. The torso then turns right and the right arm moves into high ward off. This time the ward off does not stop at chest height, but continues to lift until the right wrist is above the forehead.
    The high ward off finishes by turning the palm out. From this posture the player continues through the normal course of GBT including the waggle after the push.

    In the third section of the 105-Form, another variation of Grasp Bird’s Tail – right has the
    player press and roll back; but at the end of roll back the player turns the toes of the
    right foot out 90 degrees (bai bu, 擺步), then steps through and forward with the left
    foot. In essence, the push occurs several feet forward of a normal GBT push.
    In the next 105-Form variation, the player turns the toes of the left foot out 90 degrees
    but instead of stepping forward he or she steps only to the turned-out left
    foot. Simultaneous to a high ward off with the right arm the player steps back with the
    left foot. Like the variation just mentioned, this variation essentially has the pull back
    occur several feet back from a normal GBT pull back.

    Fu Style LiangYi Chuan (Harmonized Opposites Boxing, 兩儀拳) is a higher-level and more demanding form than the Tai Chi 105-Form. While LiangYi contains many elements and postures from Tai Chi, it also amalgamates BaGuaZhang changes, stepping and striking. Many of the movements are unique to the form and are not found elsewhere in the system.


    Victor Fu, LiangYi high ward off, photo by Vincent Wong


    Victor Fu, LiangYi short pull back, photo by Vincent Wong


    Victor Fu, LiangYi press with bai bu, photo by Vincent Wong


    Victor Fu, Liangyi press with weight shift, photo by Vincent Wong


    Victor Fu, LiangYi press with BaGua step, photo by Vincent Wong


    Victor Fu, LiangYi roll back with knee lift, photo by Vincent Wong


    Victor Fu, LiangYi roll back with capture, photo by Vincent Wong


    Victor Fu, LiangYi roll back with capture, photo by Vincent Wong


    Victor Fu, LiangYi push with feet separation, photo by Vincent Wong

    LiangYi’s Grasp Bird’s Tail – right occurs twice within the 81-movement sequence. The first begins with a fast, high ward off and an exaggerated twist of the trunk to the right. The pull back is shorter, followed by an immediate bai bu of the right foot. The player shifts quickly forward onto the right foot, and performs press with a brisk, long, BaGuaZhang step forward with the left foot. The press finishes with a snappy slide-off of the left hand, and a full shifting of weight onto the left foot. The roll back uses the same upward lifting of the wrists as before (it’s more of a “roll up” than a roll back), and raises simultaneous to an offensive high lift of the right knee. The player takes one more fast BaGua step forward with the right foot, bringing the left foot near the right heel. The push has an explosive fajin that drops the body weight quickly while spreading the feet apart. The distance between the point where the right foot started at ward off and where it finishes at the push can be 10 feet or more, which is impressive considering there are only two steps.

    The second GBT in LiangYi is the same as the first, but instead of a stationary ward off the player holds the ball – left and spins 360 degrees clockwise on the right foot. Then the player performs a double pull back, first to the right side and then to the left side. After the right-side pull back the player BaGua circle walks counter-clockwise, first with a right foot circle step finishing with the right toes turned in (kou bu, 扣步), then with a left foot-circle step finishing with bai bu. The right foot circle steps again, finishing with kou bu, then the left foot sweeps behind and the player half-spins on the right foot such that both feet finish parallel. The player pulls back – left from this position then launches into the BaGua-step press and the remainder of LiangYi GBT as detailed above.

     

    The Fu Style Tai Chi Lightning Palm (太極閃電掌) form is even higher level than LiangYi. It contains three sections of Tai Chi and one section of BaGuaZhang. The form begins with Grasp Bird’s Tail to the four directions, each finishing with an explosive fajin push.

    The Fu Style Yin (陰) Palm BaGuaZhang form includes Grasp Bird’s Tail in several of the Gua (第一卦) subsets. This time it is most similar to the GBTs in 105-Form Tai Chi but it is executed on the circle. It starts from the BaGua guard position with the long arm stretching toward the center of the circle, fingers up, and the fingers of the short arm pointing toward the elbow of the long arm. Both arms move across the body similarly to pull back; this transitions to press, roll back and then a push with fajin. This GBT also finishes with the waggle.

    Fu Style has an Advanced Tai Chi (高級太極拳) form that is unique to the martial arts. The player performs Grasp Bird’s Tail to the right and to the left, but the sequence is a mind-blowing departure from peng, lǚ, jǐ, an, as the sub-postures extrapolate and multiply unrecognizably. The player hip-pikes and extends; he or she rolls up and rolls down; the chest opens and closes; and the push finishes with three or more bouncing fajin.

    In application these variations on Grasp Bird’s Tail still train the basic energies and directions but provide the player with more options. As the repetition of practice gradually makes the movements occur naturally, the player will also feel his opponent’s pressure or retraction, and be able to adjust farther up or down, forward or backward. The stepping in particular allows the player to change positions easily, and the practice of sinking, shaking and recoiling can develop fajin power to great levels.

    Grandmaster Victor Fu continues to teach in Vancouver, British Columbia, and he offers all of his forms as instructional videos on his website, FuStyle.com.

  • Differentiating Yin From Yang in Taijiquan

    Differentiating Yin From Yang in Taijiquan


    Taijiquan (太極拳) practitioners sometimes view yin (阴) and Yang (阳) as two sides of the same coin, and this can seem like an appropriate analogy for yin and yang united as one whole. But an important principle in Taijiquan is to clearly differentiate yin from yang. A coin’s head and tail sides do not really have the ability to differentiate yin from yang. One could designate one side of a coin as heads and the other side as tails based on different markings, but that coin would behave the same as a two headed coin would. If a coin is behaving the same regardless of whether heads or tails is up (or forward…), then yin and yang are not differentiated.

    Slide a quarter and a dime across a tabletop so that they collide, and it would not matter which sides (heads or tails) were facing up. The force of the collision merely depends on mass times acceleration (F=ma), the ordinary qualities of the coins.

    Taijiquan does not rely, or focus its training philosophy or methods, on strength or speed. Coins only have mass (size or “strength”) and acceleration (speed) when they collide, despite having two differently designated sides (e.g., heads/yang and tails/yin). Because coins cannot have their yin and yang sides behave differently from each other, coins cannot use their different faces in a way that differentiates yin from yang.

    To illustrate the separation of yin and yang, a circular disk can be used, but it is easier to use a bicycle gear rather than a coin. The teeth of the bicycle gear engages the chain to transmit the power from the pedals to the rear wheel. If one only pushes down on the pedals, then they are alternating which foot is providing the power by pushing down on first one pedal and then the other. Each foot/leg would be alternating the yang (pushing the pedal down) and yin (relaxing as the pedal continues up), and this would be differentiating yin from yang.

    If, however, one is wearing toe clips (attaching the shoes to the pedals), then both the down-stroke and the upstroke can be used to power the bicycle. This would not only be differentiating yin from yang, but would also represent yang (hard) and yin (soft) mutually helping each other (刚柔相济 gang rou xiang ji). Because of the nature of the circular gear, and the cycle that is produced by its rotation, it is both capable of differentiating yin from yang and having them mutually help each other. This cyclical expression of power is desirable for Taijiquan.

    While alternating between yin and yang is necessary to propel a bicycle, it is less clear what is required when practicing Taijiquan. For example, how does one clearly differentiate yin from yang while standing with both feet on the ground? Can one have yin and yang mutually helping each other in one’s legs rather than just alternating between yin and yang when one shifts their weight?

    Since there are considered to be five bows (五弓 wu gong) in the body capable of producing power, the two legs, the torso/spine, and the two arms, I will address yin and yang clearly differentiating, and mutually helping each other, in these body segments individually.

    A drawn bow has potential energy stored until the string is released to shoot the arrow. This potential energy is obtained somewhat differently than in one’s body since the material on the outer side of the bow is stretched, and the inner surface material is compressed and, when the string is released, they attempt to regain their original (inherent) shape. So one side of the bow is yang (expanding or pushing) while the other is yin (contracting or pulling). In the legs, the extensor (yang) muscles are on the front of the leg and pull on the bones to extend the leg, whereas the flexor (yin) muscles are on the back of the leg and pull on the bones to bend the leg. But we can still have both yin and yang muscles primed for action simultaneously but without isometric tension (where both flexor and extensor muscles are tensed, and the joint angle is “locked” into an unchanging angle).

    The legs push against the ground in order to keep our body from collapsing in response to the force of gravity. This is yang. In order to avoid having just yang in the legs, we are taught to maintain some bend in the knees and avoid locking the legs straight. Additionally, the image of pulling the torso downward, like when lowering oneself into a chair, aids in establishing the potential for having yin (pulling downward energy) in the legs. We want the legs to have a springiness like we have when we jump from standing on a chair and landing on the floor. Landing with the legs just pushing into the floor makes the landing very stiff and could even lead to injury. This is landing with the legs just yang. Likewise, we do not want our legs to be just yin since relaxed legs would not catch us and we would fall to the floor. The way that we naturally learn to land from a jump is the same quality that we want to maintain in our legs while standing.

    Having both the extensor muscles primed for projecting force (or pushing), and the flexor muscles primed for receiving force (or pulling), simultaneously, is a condition that we want both of our legs to maintain in order to have both yin and yang simultaneously. This can be accomplished by the nature of the stretch reflex. The stretch reflex is an automatic recruitment reflexive action (without the need for conscious commands) that attempts to maintain joint angles. If the joint angle is suddenly changed without the person intending to do so, muscle fibers are automatically recruited to counter that unintended change. This reaction is reflexive and therefore is extremely fast [this is what is seen when a doctor taps the tendon below the knee when checking a patient’s reflexes, resulting in the foot kicking]. The resilience of muscles is also enhanced by their viscoelasticity [viscoelasticity is demonstrated by the classic children’s toy, silly putty, where relatively slow changes allows the material to stretch or act like a “viscous fluid,” whereas sudden changes makes the material bounce or behave like an “elastic solid”].

    But humans habitually fail to maintain this yin+yang balance. This can be seen in beginners who alternate between legs when shifting their weight forward or backward, causing them to raise up when straightening (yang) one leg before dropping down when bending (yin) the other leg. To counter this tendency, students are often taught to maintain a constant height (except for a few specific movements) when practicing their forms. Some view the situation where the body is raised because both legs are extended as being “double weighted.” Here the weight is also evenly distributed between the legs, and both are expressing yang (minimal yin) and could correctly be called double weighted. But double weighting can also be viewed as a broader concept and can be applied to what is occurring in a single leg, regardless of one’s weight distribution.

    Even experienced practitioners often fail to maintain the yin+yang quality in their legs when engaged in push-hands (推手 tui shou) practice. One often sees them bracing the extended back leg against the ground and exhibiting the undesirable quality like butting cows (顶牛 ding niu). The quality like butting cows is yang+yang and is typically seen in animals where the two back legs push forcefully against the ground in order to propel the body forward to butt against a rival. The back leg(s) then become yang rather than maintaining yang+yin (or yin+yang). If there is no quality of receiving energy (or pulling), then there is minimal yin. Not only are the animals using yang+yang (or double weighting), they are also using force against force, both undesirable qualities in Taijiquan practice.

    In the torso we want the energy of the back to be yang and expand upwards to the crown of the head. Simultaneously, we want the energy of the front to sink to the pelvic floor. This creates a cycle around the body (matching the “microcosmic orbit” of energy). To illustrate this, one can hold their hands with the palms together (like praying) and push one hand slightly upward to represent the energy of the back rising/expanding (yang) while the other hand sinks down to represent the front of the body sinking (yin). The result is that the “back” lifts simultaneously with the “front” becoming concave, as directed for in Taijiquan literature. This produces the complementary yin+yang cycle in the torso, and this should be maintained in one’s posture whether issuing, or receiving, energy/force.

    We also want to maintain a cycle of energy around our arms. The outer surfaces, with the extensor muscles, are yang while the inner surfaces, with the flexor muscles, are yin. An analogy that illustrates this cyclical quality is how the arms are used when hugging someone. When hugging, one uses their arms to extend (project/yang) around the partner while simultaneously drawing them close (absorbing/yin).

    When our arms are maintained in a rounded shape (like in embracing a ball), then we can maintain a cycle of yin+yang around the arms when interacting with an opponent. A properly inflated ball has a spherical shape that maintains a contact point on its periphery with anything that touches it. Additionally, when it rotates in response to the force that impacts it, one side of the ball turns away from the contact point while the opposite side simultaneously moves towards it. Therefore, on one side of the contact point with the ball is yin (turning away) while the opposite side is yang (rotating towards), and therefore the ball maintains yin+yang. We try to maintain this same quality in our rounded arms. If the arms become too angular, then we typically loose this yin+yang quality.

    The yin+yang quality in the arms is also facilitated in movement by smoothly transitioning through arcs (partial circles) rather than by reversing directions. Reversals indicate abrupt changes from yin to yang (or yang to yin) and an alternation of the two energies rather than a cycle of the two energies helping each other. Arcs cycle yin and yang energies in a manner similar to pedaling a bicycle while using toe clips. The cycle never stops and never reverses, it just switches from emphasizing yin to yang to yin to yang… as appropriate.

    The analogy of the hand stroking a beard addresses this same principle in the hands as was just described for the arms. Contrast this motion with how lobster claws open and close, which is more of an alternation of yin and yang rather than a cycle; claws require a reversal of direction to express different energies. Claws are “double weighted” since both sides are either yin+yin (opening/releasing) or yang+yang (closing/grasping), and are incapable of having yin+yang in how they operate. While this is differentiating yin from yang, claws are incapable of “stroking the beard” cyclical actions.

    Throughout our body, we want to have yin and yang clearly differentiated, but it is even better when we can have yang (hard) and yin (soft) mutually helping each other as is done when the energies are maintained cyclically. We seek to eliminate abrupt reversals when changing from one expression of energy to the other. We want to avoid the duality of “fight or flight” and maintain the potential for both yin and yang continuously, while still clearly differentiating yin from yang.

  • Taijiquan And The Parasympathetic Nervous System

    Taijiquan And The Parasympathetic Nervous System

    Taijiquan (太極拳) emphasizes calmness, relaxation, reduced anxiety and stress, smooth flowing movements, slow respiration and heart rate, and other traits that are characteristic of parasympathetic nervous system (PSNS) control. The PSNS is sometimes called the “rest and digest” system that activates the “relaxation response.” By contrast, the sympathetic nervous system (SNS) is responsible for the “fight-or-flight” response, and activates the body to be ready for action (increased respiration and heart rates, etc.). It is thought that the SNS is dominant when one is awake and active, whereas the PSNS is dominant when the body is resting or recovering.

    Many sports, including fighting, think that being “ready for action” or “ready for a fight” is necessary for optimal performance and get “pumped up” through various pre-competition routines that increase one’s adrenaline. They often use pep talks, play loud and pounding music, jump up and down, stare down the opponent, yell or get angry, use posturing or posing, etc. to get psyched. These actions activate the SNS. This seems to be incompatible with Taijiquan’s emphasis. Can one be ready for optimal performance while being in a state controlled by the PSNS rather than the SNS?

    Many of the principles used in Taijiquan activate the PSNS, like breathing from the diaphragm, using mindfulness, using imagery, moving smoothly and continuously, and even smiling, etc. It seems logical that we would want to maintain the benefits of these practices even when engaged in competitive situations. But thoughts on optimizing sports performance seem to indicate that one needs to activate the SNS instead. Is it possible to have optimal Taijiquan performance, within a competitive situation, while under the control of the PSNS?

    Several studies on Taijiquan have provided supporting evidence for its modulation (the decrease in the SNS) on the autonomic nervous system. Although the science behind sports performance rarely studies the PSNS, there are several factors that we can refer to that may help understand this apparent incompatibility between PSNS and SNS control for optimal performance. While speculative in nature, this article can provide ways to think about optimal performance that are different than the conventional thoughts on the topic.

    What do we want from Taijiquan that may differ from the conventional approach taken by sports scientists, physical trainers and athletes? In this article I am addressing performance from fit individuals rather than corrective health practice for less healthy practitioners, so a reasonable level of strength, endurance and general fitness for the Taijiquan practitioner is assumed for this article.

    One can view the PSNS and SNS as being like the principles of yin (阴) and yang (阳), respectively, in that they interact with each other rather than only one system acting while the other system is turned completely off. If they are both present to varying degrees, then one could further look at them as being a continuum with extreme yin (PSNS) on one end and extreme yang (SNS) on the other. Taijiquan and other physical activities like sports, as well as rest and recuperation, etc., will tend towards one or the other end of this spectrum. One could refer to the yin end as being “internal” whereas the yang end would be “external”.

    Sports that emphasize getting pumped up tend towards the yang end of the spectrum and rely on the activation of the SNS. But it has been widely studied and acknowledged that over intensity is detrimental to sports performance, as are anxiety and nervousness, etc. Therefore, techniques like meditation, deep breathing, massages, and other relaxation techniques are utilized to counter the negative effects of being too yang. This means that some balance with the PSNS is acknowledged as being beneficial for optimal sports performance.

    Despite the differences, sports and Taijiquan share some common indicators of proficiency. For example, grace and beauty of physical movements can indicate motor unit synchronization and can also indicate whole body coordination. Both also value balance and efficiency, although the means used during training may differ.

    Unfortunately for our understanding of Taijiquan, research on the PSNS rarely goes beyond correcting problems with over intensity, or for recovery, rather than looking at this end of the spectrum as potentially being beneficial for optimal performance. But there may be something else, known in psychology as the “flow state” or more commonly called being “in the zone” in sports, that may provide insights for Taijiquan practice and possibly help us understand the yin or PSNS end of the spectrum.

    Since the “flow state” where one is engrossed in an enjoyable individual activity so much that they lose track of time may differ from “the zone” in sports, which is associated with a rare peak performance above what the person normally achieves, I will compare Taijiquan primarily to flow (or the zone) in sports. The flow state has been described as being psychologically in a band between over excitement (e.g., anxiety) and under excitement (e.g., boredom), but that may not be particularly helpful for examining if it relates to PSNS or SNS differences.

    Clearly, Taijiquan is not looking to induce a state of boredom! So if we eliminate that extreme from what the psychologists use in their examples of the flow state, then we have a narrower range of possibilities where being alert but calm is opposed to being excited and aroused.

    Some athletes who get emotional during competition are praised (e.g., “their heart is in it” or they have the “competitive fire”…), but also praised are some athletes who maintain their composure regardless of the situation (e.g., unflappable, cool headed…). To me this shows tendencies towards one or the other end of the PSNS/SNS continuum and, while either approach may potentially lead to high athletic performance, they are clearly different.

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  • The Tai Chi Journey

    The Tai Chi Journey

    Many people have described learning tai chi as ‘a journey’. And like all journeys, it begins with the first step. New students are often surprised to discover that tai chi is far much more than simply ‘waving arms through the air’ as they explore and develop diverse physical and cognitive skills through the constant, patient practice of this ancient art. (more…)

  • Attention Vs. Attenuation in Taijiquan

    Attention Vs. Attenuation in Taijiquan

     

    Taijiquan (太極拳) practitioners likely know the importance of paying attention to what they are practicing, but they may not realize that it is natural and normal for humans to attenuate or “tune out” various signals that we receive. Since we are only capable of processing a quite limited amount of information at one time, we necessarily suppress the information that seems to be less important.

    When the ability to suppress undesired sensory information (sensory regulation) is faulty, as in some autistic individuals, it is difficult to function since one is unable to sort out the meaningful information from the background noise and one can become overwhelmed by the multiple sensory inputs. So we need the ability to suppress information that we actually are receiving so that it does not distract or overwhelm us. It is not so much a matter of paying attention as it is a matter of what to pay attention to.

    Although we are not aware of much of the information that we are receiving, this additional information can be listened to if we pay attention to it. This can be observed in individuals who have gone blind and who subsequently compensate by developing their awareness of signals from other senses like hearing, smelling, feeling air currents on the hairs of their skin, or heat on their skin, etc. This is information that most people receive, it is just that we have attenuated those signals when sight is our predominant sense organ.

    Taijiquan teaches us to pay more attention to such senses as proprioception (awareness of the position and movement of the body) that would normally have less attention devoted to it. Heightened proprioception will give trained individuals more information from contact with other people than would be possible without training to heighten awareness of these information signals, and this is an important factor in Taijiquan as a martial art (as well as for balance in aging or ill individuals).

    One could say that Taijiquan is learning to be aware of what one should be aware of. But this is difficult because our minds can really only focus attention to one or two things at a time, and most of our senses are constantly being suppressed. Until we become familiar enough with one aspect that it no longer requires our direct attention, we have difficulty paying attention to other things at the same time. We need to drill various things that require our attention long enough that we can do it correctly while no longer needing to devote much attention to it. Then we can rub our belly and pat our head simultaneously.

    We have practiced constantly adjusting our bodies to remain balanced and upright so long that most of us no longer realize that we are actively doing it. But the awareness of the difficulty of balancing returns with frailty due to aging. It can also be demonstrated in healthy young individuals by having them balance on one leg with their eyes closed. Almost everyone trying to balance on one leg with their eyes closed will realize the effort, and the attention needed to do so, even though it seems automatic during normal daily activities.

    Fortunately, we are typically quite good at recognizing when we are losing our balance. Because of this, practices like pushing hands (推手 tui shou) can be used to examine the moment when we go off balance and train to make corrections. If we know when we go off balance, then we can direct our attention to the conditions present at that moment. We need awareness of problems before we can hope to make adjustments that correct the defects that lead to our being off balanced.

    Another effect of our limited ability to process multiple stimuli simultaneously is the so called “monkey mind” (心猿 xinyuan) where our attention jumps around from one thing to another and never really pays much attention to any of them. We go from having our attention captured by one thing only to notice something else and shift our attention there, and on and on, never really being able to settle into a state where we can see the big picture rather than restlessly chasing after numerous individual stimuli.

    A common example of our mental limitations is when we are corrected on one movement in our form sequence we often then mess up the movement preceding the one being worked on. Our mind jumps ahead to the corrected move and the attention is directed to the correction one is anticipating making, with the result that the attention wanders from its preceding movement. When the mind focuses ahead, it is difficult to pay attention to the present. We tend to focus on the past (the mistake we made that needed correcting), as well as the future (how should the next movement be done to correct the past mistake), and often miss having our attention on the present.

    Because of the “monkey mind” and other mental limitations, martial artists can often benefit from meditation and other mind calming and training practices. In Taijiquan, the cultivation of a calm mind through slow form practice serves as a “meditation in motion.” The slowness also allows practitioners enough time to mentally process the many components that are involved in the art, without having to jump ahead to the next movement before finishing the current one; therefore allowing one to keep the mind in the present moment throughout the form.

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