Category: Training

The article “Pay Attention!” is reprinted on Slanted Flying website with the permission of the author Sam Langley from his personal Blog.

During standing practice, something occurred to me: Awareness is the first and most important principle in Tai Chi. It sounds obvious now but when it hit me I had to go and write it down.

Most of us are a bit stiff, holding tension in much of the body and we need to work out how to let it go. This requires paying attention. I can only relax my chest when I perceive the tension and the same goes for my lower back and my hips.

We also want to improve our posture, not for aesthetic reasons but to enable deeper relaxation and develop whole body connection. Again, we need to be aware of our body to straighten up and balance properly.

Mindfulness is a word that is, perhaps, a little overused these days and as such is starting to lose its meaning. Tai Chi, however, is in part a mindfulness practice. You can’t learn Tai Chi unless you pay attention and you’re not really practicing it if you’re not paying attention.
It’s interesting to me that Tai Chi requires you to concentrate but also improves your ability to do so. Maybe it’s enough to simply practice regularly and your awareness will grow naturally all on its own? Or perhaps not. If you take a look around any Tai Chi class you’ll see that some people are paying more attention than others. 

My advice is: When you practice Tai Chi don’t add any distractions, just practice. I used to have a student that watched films whilst doing standing qigong which is definitely not paying full attention! So no films and I would also say no music.

It may come down to the strength of your intention. People with a passion for something tend to really concentrate on it. Those with the highest level of skill in Tai Chi very often have had health problems. As a last resort, they turn to Tai Chi to heal themselves and give it everything they’ve got.

It goes without saying that in the modern world there’s not enough awareness. When I cycle down Gloucester road I can count on one hand the number of people not staring at their phones and even those who aren’t are probably, invisibly, listening to them.

Any practice that improves your awareness is an important one. I’ve found that practicing Tai Chi improves my self awareness and as my self awareness grows so does my awareness of the world around me. I feel more present when talking to others and more aware of the effect of my actions.

There are many mental factors that should be considered when practicing Taijiquan (太極拳), and the way that people naturally react mentally can become traps, especially when interacting with a partner or opponent. Addressing the mind is more familiar to many from the Zen mind approach in Japanese martial arts (especially swordsmanship), but Taijiquan also addresses the mind in many ways, although less formally than in Japanese arts.

We can start with the tendency of humans to let our egos affect us. For example, people with limited experience tend to think that they are better or more skilled (have higher confidence) in activities than they really are. This phenomenon is called the Dunning-Kruger effect:

https://understandinginnovation.blog/2015/07/03/the-dunning-kruger-effect-in-innovation/

This effect can be described as proceeding from the novice thinking “What?” to “I once was blind and now I see” [“Peak of Mt. Stupid”] to “Hm-m-m, there’s more to this than I thought” [“Program Termination Zone”] to “Oh man, I’m never going to understand it” [“Valley of Despair”] to “OK, it’s starting to make sense” [“Slope of Enlightenment”] and then to “Trust me, it’s complicated” [“Plateau of Sustainability”] as one approaches mastery.

In Taijiquan, novices are often taught to feel their qi (氣energy) flow, or to use intent (用意yongyi), and other concepts that are susceptible to self-delusion (and the Dunning-Kruger effect; the slope up “Mt. Stupid”), especially in the early stages of Taijiquan study. During solo forms practice, there is little feedback available for one to know if they are understanding, and using, the concepts properly. But at higher levels of skill these same concepts (of qi, intent, etc.), once understood, can be very useful.

The effects of ego can often be seen in fights where, after one combatant succeeds in landing a blow, their opponent tries a similar attack back. This is merely one’s ego trying to show that “if you can do something, then so can I.” We should strive to act with what is appropriate to the specific situation, rather than playing “revenge” or “one-upmanship” games.

A similar situation of attempting to show superiority occurs when one side issues force and the other tries to respond with greater force. This leads to force vs. force situations that are contrary to Taijiquan philosophy. Instead, we want to change the situation to our advantage rather than trying to beat the opponent at their own game (where whoever is stronger/bigger is more likely to win). When one lacks the flexibility to change, one often resorts to using more force instead.

Since we were toddlers, we have trained ourselves to lean into, or brace, against force. When first trying to push something, toddlers push themselves away instead, ending in them seated on their diapers. Leaning into the object allows toddlers to use whatever weight they have against the object that they try to push. Our minds have therefore become accustomed to replying to force by applying more force, and to lean or brace when doing so.

But Taijiquan teaches the opposite; to avoid using force against force! We train to issue force from the ground – from our feet, developed by our legs, directed from our waist, expressed in the arms. In push-hands (推手tui shou), interacting like a “butting cow” (顶牛ding niu) is considered to be an error indicative of poor quality Taijiquan. Butting against a partner or opponent reflects our lifetime habit (since we were toddlers) of leaning and bracing, and resisting force with force.

We instead want to “receive” force into our “root” (into the ground). We want to remain comfortable and aligned, and if we conduct incoming forces downward (e.g., by bending our back leg) rather than bracing backwards (e.g., straightening the rear leg), then the incoming force is more aligned with gravity, which healthy human bodies are comfortable with due to naturally “resisting” gravity every time that we stand.

We have habitual mental images of responding horizontally, pushing forward and pulling backwards, instead of pushing/projecting up from, and pulling/absorbing down into, our feet. The horizontal tendency is what produces the “butting cow” posture during push-hands practice. The “butting cow” loses the resiliency of the rear leg which stiffens instead. One would then lose the quality of “loading the spring” (compressing into one’s root – the ground) that is more appropriate for Taijiquan.

When one’s joints stiffen or lock in response to force (either incoming from an opponent, or outgoing from one’s own issuing of force), the body loses its changeability. We may appear stronger (at least in the one direction that the force/resistance is directed towards), but we also become less adaptable. Taijiquan seeks to maintain changeability/adaptability even when under pressure; we want to maintain the openness of our joints, like they are well oiled and free to move, rather than locking/tightening them in place.

Many people when they want to bend lower or raise their leg higher for example, try to use force or momentum to do so rather than trying to relax more. This “try harder” or “do more” approach seems to be what humans have learned to do rather than relaxing (doing less). Unless someone is taught stretching or yoga, or something similar, the tendency is to bounce harder and harder in order to force a greater range of motion.

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Jazz music has varying degrees of improvisation in its ensemble (and solo) playing. There is a structure, with melody, tempo, key signature, chord progression, and other characteristics for each song, although these can be modified. But there is also improvisation, with players rarely, if ever, trying to play a song exactly the same way each time. This is in contrast to, for example, classical music where practically every aspect of the song is notated and fixed by the musical score. In classical music, the musicians attempt to play the way that is indicated in the score, and therefore the same way each time the song is played.

Many Taijiquan (太極拳) practitioners practice their solo forms and partner drills as if they are trying to follow a fixed score. They try to be exactly like their teacher, and attempt to repeat the same way each time they do the form or drill. When first learning, this approach is correct, but every experienced practitioner likely has their own flavor in their art, especially once they learn how to learn from themselves.

There’s a story that goes something like this: A Taijiquan student from the West was able to spend significant time studying with a master in Asia, but he did not know if he would be able to return in the future for additional study and corrections due to the master’s advanced age. Since he did not know how long she would be around and able to teach, he was very diligent in his studies, trying to faithfully imitate every detail of the master’s movements. After returning home, his friend was very interested in seeing what he had learned, so the student performed for him. When he was done, his friend asked him: “Why were you moving like an old woman?”

Variety is implied in various sayings, and one states that from one example a practitioner should extrapolate to a thousand different applications of a technique. So, the one way that a technique is performed in the solo form is merely one way of many. For those who only desire to do solo forms, only having one way is perhaps not detrimental, but when interacting with an opponent, we know that there are an infinite number of variations. Applying a technique requires adjustments to account for the infinite variations of the interactions with another person.

We need the ability to be spontaneous, while adhering to Taijiquan principles, during free play or fighting with a partner or an opponent. We cannot adhere strictly to one fixed way of moving like we may do when strictly following a choreographed form. In these spontaneous situations, we need the ability to appropriately answer the situations presented, and cannot rely on the sequences in the form, or one’s teacher’s movements; we need to have a confident inner resource to act appropriately in spontaneous situations.

Even when practicing a fixed and repetitive two-person drill, there are subtle variations in each repetition, and practitioners will benefit from being aware of as many subtle differences as they can sense. I believe that each repetition of a drill will be unique, especially when interacting with someone else. Even when we are trying to replicate one pattern over and over, we should also try to notice the inevitable differences.

There are different styles of Taijiquan (陳 Chen, 楊 Yang, 吳 Wu, 武/郝 Wu/Hao, 孫 Sun, etc.), and these different styles came from skilled individuals varying the forms that they were taught. Yes, one needs to have skill and understanding prior to making changes, but the individual preferences of those masters went into the creation of their styles. From my perspective, all of these recognized styles, despite having differing characteristics, emphases, and flavors, all use the underlying principles of Taijiquan, and all are correct practice; one style is not right and another wrong.

Even within a particular style (or even within one school) students can also often learn differences in principles between how weapons work is done and how one does things without weapons. For example, sword (劍 jian) can allow a further forward shift into the front leg than would be advisable for weaponless forms and interactions. This is because practitioners do not need to be overly concerned with the possibility that an opponent will grab the sharp weapon and pull, and the length of the weapon means that you are typically too far away from an opponent for them to be able to grab your arm when you are thrusting the sword at them. Shifting farther forward may give the swordsman a few extra centimeters of reach.

Similarly, a long shafted weapon without sharp edges, like a staff (棍 gun), may require practitioners to maintain more weight on the rear leg due to the leverage that an opponent would have when grabbing the weapon’s shaft and pulling. Other weapons, like the saber (刀 dao), have different emphases than weaponless interactions, and here evasive footwork may be more important, rather than emphasizing from-contact skills (e.g., stick and adhere, connect and follow, zhan nian lian sui 粘黏連隨, or rooting, etc.) – one may not even contact the opponent or their weapon.

Differences in how one’s body is used in relation to a weapon also illustrate possible variations in one’s approach to Taijiquan. For example, a spear (鎗 qiang) is light enough that practitioners can spin it around their body, like during the flower movements that vertically spin the spear from one side of the body to the other side. On the other hand, a historically heavy weapon like a Guandao/Spring and Autumn Falchion/Reclining Moon Knife (偃月刀 yanyuedao) could require practitioners to move their body around the weapon once it is given the momentum during similar vertical spinning movements.

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Opening

As someone who has been playing Taijiquan (Tai Chi) for almost 30 years and teaching for more than 20, I have a special place in my heart for students who are new to the practice. While many new students fall in love—like I did—with Tai Chi after their first class, a significant number of new students encounter confusion, frustration, and a disconnection between what they expected from their first class and what they experienced. Unrealistic expectations are sometimes fostered by media images of Tai Chi masters, observations of advanced students and the instructor, and underestimating the time necessary to develop the ability to move in a refined way.

Although newcomers to the art may not immediately experience the flow and benefits of Tai Chi, the consistent practice of Tai Chi over time can result in significant positive changes. Improved physical balance, a reduction in stress and pain, strengthened joints, enhanced body awareness, the ability to attain deep states of physical relaxation and mental calmness, increased concentration, and emotional ease are a few of the benefits. Those results, of course, come after a period of serious dedication to the art.

Many new students are understandably eager to reap the benefits of Tai Chi practice. Some become discouraged when their quest for a gentle flowing movement practice meets the reality of their physical and mental habits in a detail-oriented class that is more “stop-and-go” than “move-and-flow”. With respect for Tai Chi beginners and the dedicated individuals who instruct them, the following article offers some guidelines to support and encourage motivation for the successful and enjoyable practice and teaching of the art.

1. Remember that you’re creating a Tai Chi community. An instructor with a high percentage of students who keep returning to class week-after-week is likely to be someone who does a good job at establishing a supportive, friendly community where the learning process is enjoyable as well as being informative.

Welcome students into your class with a few words of encouragement, and also introduce them to the other students in your class. When possible, have students interact with one another by way of introductions and non-competitive two-person exercises such as push hands. Do what you can to support a sense of community.

The social connections that are formed between your students can create a bond that strengthens the cohesion and motivation of the class. You may wish to begin the class with a group circle that provides a space where new students can introduce themselves by name and tell others about their intention for studying Tai Chi. When students already know one another, taking a few moments to share their community activities with the class can further deepen connections. Additionally, you can begin your class with an easy group movement practice consisting of activities such as stretches, simple Tai Chi movements accessible to beginners, and/or a few easy Qigong postures. After the initial group interaction, consider switching to a silent practice period to reinforce the meditative quality of Tai Chi.

If it’s appropriate, encourage and guide senior students to assist novice students. That’s a wonderful way to support the learning of everyone while building a friendly peer support system.

End your class with a group circle, perhaps concluding with a few easy Qigong movements, gentle stretches, or several mindful breaths. Offer words of praise for your students’ work and commitment. Encourage at-home practice, share useful resources such as videos that align with your teaching style, and let your students know that you look forward to seeing them again at the next class.

2. Emphasize praise over precision, and encouragement over criticism. Your students—especially if they’re beginners—are more likely to stay motivated when hearing more positive words of encouragement than negative criticism. Instructors are reminded to provide much more positive reinforcement than “correction”. If you’re inclined to offer a critique of your student (which can be necessary if a stance or posture is jeopardizing their safety or joint health), try to balance negative comments with much more praise. I recommend at least 5 positive comments (a non-verbal smile or an affirming nod also qualifies as a comment) to 1 corrective comment, and ideally much more than 5.

3. Focus more on the fundamental principles of Tai Chi instead of the small details. For the beginner, gentle guidance about the importance of an upright spine, relaxed body, calm breath, and moving from the center (lower dantian) are more important than advanced teachings about synchronization of the mind, body, and breath. Speaking of the mind, I find it useful to remind beginning students that Tai Chi is a mind-body practice. Therefore, training the mind to be patient, calm, and attentive is an important part of the practice. Even when the outer physical elements of the practice are complex, the student can practice meeting those complexities with inner calmness and patience, which is an expression of the spirit of Tai Chi.

4. Normalize confusion and impatience. Many beginning Tai Chi students feel lost, confused, and discouraged when, for example, they discover that they have extended the opposite arm in a posture or have taken a step with the wrong leg. Letting your new students know that confusion and directional disorientation can be a “normal” part of their learning process can help to relieve unnecessary concerns and negative self-judgments. To support the motivation of my new students, I routinely advise them to keep their learning curve “simple” by taking away just “one thing” (e.g., a posture or tai chi principle) that they can practice in between classes. I also provide a description of the classroom as being a “perfection-free zone”. Light-hearted jokes and comments such as, “extend your other left arm” or “I saw how you quickly adjusted your posture before the teacher said anything” can encourage a buoyant attitude throughout the class, as long as comments and jokes are supportive and not demeaning.

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ad·dict
noun: addict; plural noun: addicts
a person who is addicted to a particular substance, typically an illegal drug.
“a former heroin addict”

synonyms: Informal / junkie, druggie, -head, -freak, pill-popper, dope fiend
“stealing money for your next high, just like the addicts out in the street”

informal / an enthusiastic devotee of a specified thing or activity.
“a must-buy book for the crossword-puzzle addict”

synonyms: enthusiast, fan, lover, devotee, aficionado,
informal / freak, buff, nut, fiend, bum, junkie, fanatic, maniac

In the spirit of Hwa Yu Tai Ji Master John Chung Li moving to south Florida in 1977, in order to introduce Hwa Yu Tai Ji to its retirees, so I moved to Mexico´s Lake Chapala area, a center for ex-pat retirees, especially from U.S. and Canada. Prior to moving there, to test the waters, I posted on a Chapala  social media site, giving an introduction to Pushing Hands, and a self-introduction to my own experiences, as learner and as trainer. I emphasized that the training offered was initially at no charge, and that later donations would be accepted.

Several months prior, in San Cristobal de las Casas (SCLC), Chiapas, I had advertised my classes (including tuition cost) via posters on walls. This is the custom there, and I never had any problems, even though, according to the immigration law, foreigners are only allowed to work in Mexico if they have a Work Visa. But, in actual practice, especially at (small-scale) English Schools, the law is not strictly enforced.

However, I quickly realized that the situation in the Chapala area is quite different. On the Chapala Board, while 100+ folks viewed the announcement, and several expressed interest, there were several posts that were Red Flags, apparently from foreigners who warned/threatened me that my Tourist Visa status specifically prohibited such a venture, even on a ´´donations accepted´´ status. One of the threat-makers was active on the Board as a legal specialist for foreigners and their Immigration-Residency matters. I was informed by several long-term foreigner residents that my proposed Pushing Hands project was vulnerable, because there were some unhappy-nasty foreigners living in Chapala-Ajijic area, and that they could inform the Mexican authorities about me and my ´´donations accepted´´ Pushing Hands classes.

Shortly after deciding to follow their advice, I noticed a building with a (Spanish) sign–Center for Treatment of Addicts. Ahaaa! I introduced myself and scheduled a meeting with the Director. We had a good rapport. I showed him my Posters for my classes in SCLC, and he saw that I could understand and speak Spanish well enough to explain the benefits of Pushing Hands training. Soon I was teaching three 1-hour classes every week.

It was a short walk from my apartment, to the gate, then the barking dogs, then the gentle greetings to the folks unlocking the door for me. Here is the visual record, shot in SONY Posterization format, exquisite for earthy tones.

The folks were locked in for the 1^st6 weeks of their residence. At my classes we always  had 100% attendance, heh…heh. There was one chap who, initially, would show up every time with the group, but he´d stand stiff and silent, and basically catatonic-style. I assumed he was being treated for heroin addiction, and later was told that was the case.

To open the Gua acu-zones in the loins, we began with the Nei Gong exercises taught by Master Li—Walking and Rowing. Once we began Pushing Hands training, I was pleasantly surprised to see that these men were not trying to ´´win´´. I had assumed that there would be significant evidence of Anger management/Passive Aggression/etc. issues, but that was not the case. The vibe there was truly cooperative and light-hearted. The men enjoyed the movement and the Flow. In this video, I am telling them:

• ´´Todo el cuerpo!´´ (All the body!)
• ´´No solamente los brazos!´´ (Not only the arms!)
• ´´Sentarse!´´ (Sit down!)

They enjoyed the format of the 2-hands to the shoulders. As long as they were moving-in-spirit, I felt it was good-and-meant-to-be. In this video, I am emphasizing:

• ´´Erecto!´´ (Stand straight!´)
• ´´Un paso!´´ (When you are pushed, turn that push into your own step forward!)

Here I am introducing the ´´CONTRACT´´´. That is, as a means of mutually opening the GUA zones, A slowly pushes B, and B is Yin and slowly sits back-and-down, until just before reaching the maximum. Then B gives a slight turn of the wrist. This is the signal for A to convert to Yin, to listen to the Yang approach of B, and to likewise sit back-and-down.

Also seen is the exercise of training the Yin element in the arms, by turning the body and having the arms hit the back. The more Yin, the louder the noise. The chap with the heroin addiction can be seen in the background, stationary. Other times he would be active.

Here is the final video I shot. The month was over, and it was the final class.

I was gratified that they were saying thanks-and-goodbye by putting energy into their movements, including the ex-heroin addict. Hopefully, they are on their way to becoming addicted-to-exercise.

“The Taiji Boxing Treatise of Wang Zongyue of Shanxi” (山右王宗岳太極拳論) as presented in Li Yiyu’s (李亦畬) 1881 manual (as translated by Paul Brennan) states:

“There are many other schools of martial arts besides this one. Although the postures are different between them, they generally do not go beyond the strong bullying the weak and the slow yielding to the fast. The strong beating the weak and the slow submitting to the fast are both a matter of inherent natural ability and bear no relation to skill that is learned. Examine the phrase ‘four ounces moves a thousand pounds’, which is clearly not a victory obtained through strength. Or consider the sight of an old man repelling a group, which could not come from an aggressive speed.”

From this, we can infer that strength, speed, youth, etc. are matters of “natural” abilities that are different than what is developed through the practice of Taijiquan (太極拳). “External” styles of martial arts seek to increase these “natural” abilities, becoming stronger, quicker, and with increased endurance, for example. My understanding is that “internal” martial arts like Taijiquan tend to focus instead on fundamentally altering “natural” attributes until the altered principles become natural to the practitioner.

Some school traditions talk about Taijiquan as using “natural” principles. But Wang’s treatise further states (Brennan translation) that “Although there is an endless variety of possible scenarios, there is only this single principle [of yielding and sticking] throughout.” So, if this is what distinguishes Taijiquan, is this principle of yielding and sticking throughout a natural quality?

I do not think that it is. What is natural for humans is the fight-or-flight response. We tend to either resist (fight) pressure, or retreat (flee) away from it. Taijiquan instead works on something in between these two – we seek to stick-adhere-connect-follow (zhan nian lian sui 粘黏連隨), which is controlling a partner/opponent through contact without resisting (fighting) and without collapsing (fleeing).

Part of the reason that it is so difficult for practitioners to accomplish this skill (of yielding and sticking throughout) is that it goes counter to our natural instincts. In order to accomplish it, we need a calm awareness that allows us to avoid anger (fight) or fear (flight). We need to have a neutral, ego-less mentality; we want to avoid likes (seeking, or going towards, what we desire) and dislikes (going away from or avoiding what bothers us). We need a body that is capable of fluid and controlled movements without the tensions or the slackness that would inhibit the ability to fluidly change in order to match another person’s movements. We should not resist (fight), but also should not separate (flee).

While having a calm mind during conflict is not unique to Taijiquan, it is also not natural; people typically freeze, flinch, tense (e.g., instinctively locking our joints in order to become “stronger” when under pressure), panic, or get angry, for example. It takes training and familiarity being in conflicts to overcome our natural tendencies. Taijiquan may be somewhat different than many other martial arts in that aggression is not cultivated; we train to remain calm and to use an opponent’s aggression against them.

Even solo practice reveals that Taijiquan often does not follow “natural” movements. For example, normal walking is more of a controlled fall, where our forward momentum has us falling forward, at least until our rear leg moves in front of us to catch us and prevent us from actually falling down. Taijiquan practices maintaining balance as the foot moves forward. Unlike natural walking, Taijiquan walking can be done quite slowly since we never lose our balance (we never begin falling forward).

An untrained (or unaware) person might “naturally” tend to bend over at the waist to pick something up from the ground. We need reminders to use the legs (to squat) when picking up heavy items in order to avoid injuring our back. In Taijiquan, we also need reminders to remain upright in our training, especially when engaging in push-hands (tui shou 推手) play or sparring. Wang (Brennan translation) states: “With your head-top pressing up naturally and energy sinking down to your elixir field, there will be no leaning in any direction.”

There is a tendency for humans to lead with their head, since our major senses (especially eyesight) are located here. For some people this may lead to a forward lean of the torso, in other people it may result in the chin jutting forward. These “natural” actions would be considered as errors in Taijiquan because it is often easiest to influence someone to go in the direction that their head is leaning. This is because the weight of the head is, on average, about 8% of the mass of one’s body, and this weight is located on the body’s uppermost tip and can therefore lead one’s entire body.

Because our sense of touch is so dominant in our hands, we “naturally” reach out with the hand without thinking about connecting it, or driving it, with our body. Often we try to open doors or pick up objects, etc. just by using our hand and arm. Only if the object ends up being heavier, or more difficult to handle than we expect, do we try again with better support and better full body coordination. This can be expected because of the way that we receive information from our environment, which is reflected in the “cortical homunculus” or neurological map as discussed in the following Wikipedia article: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cortical_homunculus.

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“Kevin, please  tell us why you have such poor eye contact.”  They asked me this at a Job Interview, in California, during the 1970s, the era of the Human Potential movement. The job was as Live-in Counselor for Emotionally Disturbed Adolescents, and I had just learned from the Interviewers that their approach was based upon the mechanistic Stick-and-Carrot approach, the Stimulus-Response system of Skinner, with the adolescents´ daily actions being evaluated and scored, with consistent/continuous CONSEQUENCES.  Minutes before, I had decided that I did not feel rapport with these folks, and their competitive use of eyeballs felt like arm-wrestling. So…it was an easy Hello-Goodbye Job  Interview.

By contrast, consider:
* sitting with friends and talking around a campfire at night, beneath the stars, as in John Denver’s song Rocky Mountain High
* Chinese Dao-inspired paintings, in which the humans are quite small, as they are part of a larger Circle of Nature—sky-mountain-river-trees-animals
* Pushing Hands with someone who is blind and/or with your own eyes closed.

At Helen Keller´s famed Alma Mater, Perkins School for the Blind, several decades ago I was a Volunteer Trainer in Pushing Hands and the exercises of Walking and Rowing. To empathize/equalize the process, I would typically close my own eyes. No one complained. I felt—and still do—that  Ting Jing (Listening Energy) can be greatly enhanced with  eyes closed. In China, and elsewhere in Asia, there are Massage Centers with blind professionals. There is a global network for Blind Massage Centers, called ´´Seeing Hands´´.

SEEING HANDS — that is a relevant metaphor for our goal in Pushing Hands, eh? Here are 2 videos of my Blind Pushing Hands classes in 2017 in San Cristobal de las Casas (SCLC), Chiapas, Mexico.

For a period, I made a base in SCLC because I thought it would be suitable for introducing Pushing Hands. On the walls, there are always posters of  music events and classes—Yoga/Reiki/Aromatherapy/Film-making/Afro-Cuban Dance/Puppetry/Enneagrams/Meditation/Shamanism/Sweat Lodges/ad infinitum. SCLC is visually exquisite, with a strong Mayan/Zapatista ambience, especially attracting (1) artisans/musicians from Latin America and beyond, and (2) Mexican tourists, especially on weekends. On the pedestrian-only Walking Street, folks earn income by selling  their crafts and playing their music for the tourists. There are 2 different residential Artist Cooperatives—one specializing in Visual Arts, and the other in Dance/Movement. Though it didn´t  develop in SCLC, that is my goal/intention/plan/Dharma—to develop a Cooperative for folks training in Pushing Hands.

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Most Taijiquan(太極拳)practitioners are familiar with Wu Yuxiang’s (武禹襄) writing stating (as translated by Paul Brennan) “Starting from your foot, issue through your leg, directing it at your waist, and expressing it at your fingers. From foot through leg through waist, it must be a fully continuous process…” This indicates that the body leads the hands (or from one’s root in the feet, to the point of application).

This is what we strive for in our solo practice. In a sense, it also applies to partner/opponent interactions because we typically power our applications in a unified manner beginning with our contact with the ground. But when interacting with another person, it is the conditions at the point of contact that determines how we act. Therefore, one could say that when interacting with someone else, it is the hands (or more accurately, the points of contact with an opponent) that lead the body.

As the classic attributed to Wang Zongyue (王宗岳) states (as translated by Paul Brennan), “The basic of basics is to forget about your plans and simply respond to your opponent.” Therefore, if one is responding to the opponent, then their movements, as transmitted through the point(s) of contact with them, dictate our actions. The point(s) of contact moves first, with our body “chasing” the hand in order to support the movements at the point(s) of contact.

Chen Ziming (陳子明) states (as translated by Paul Brennan) that “This art [Taijiquan] is entirely a matter of using your mind to move your hand, using your hand to guide your elbow, using your elbow to guide your shoulder, and using your shoulder to guide your body. In the case of practicing the solo set: the body leads the hand. In the case of partner practice: the hand leads the body.”

Solo forms (where the hand movements should be generated by the body) allow us to practice continuously connecting the segments of our body (from the feet to the hands) during movement. We also practice being relaxed, but not collapsed, in order to avoid having places where the power transmission may be impeded by stiffness or by breaks due to slackness. We try to emphasize “whole-body” in order to increase our effective mass, but we also emphasize “relaxation” because we do not want to be slowed down or inhibited due to tensions.

Some martial art styles practice tensing their bodies briefly at the instant of contact when striking, thus making the body “connected” (or one mass, like a single block) at that instant of contact, and then relaxing the tension immediately afterwards in order to regain their changeability. But it is different in Taijiquan as I understand it. We want to remain relaxed throughout, such that our changeability is maintained, but emphasize alignment in our practice in order to have “whole-body” power, but without the instant of tension that those other styles practice.

The first part of the following video (from the martial art of I Liq Chuan) dramatically shows punching without tensing the hand, since he is holding a raw egg while breaking the boards. It uses proper alignment of the loose body, rather than an instant of tension on impact, to transmit force from the ground, through the body, and into the fist.

An analogy of round beads on a string can illustrate different approaches to the transmission of aligned force. If the beads centers are aligned while touching each other, then one can transmit force from the bead on one end to the last bead on the other end. While this can be done without tension on the string, the beads need to be aligned in order to do so. If the string was tied tightly in order to hold the beads tightly together, then force could also be transmitted from one end to the other; this would be like making connections by using tension.

Without tension, the beads on the string would be free to move in other ways if desired, but if the string holds them tightly together, then the possible movements are greatly restricted. In either case, though, one is able to transmit force from either end. If aligned, then it does not matter if the movement starts from the feet or from the hands, the force can still be transmitted. It is our alignment that allows all parts of our body to move (like all of the beads on the string) when one part moves.

Proper alignment for transmitting force from one segment to the final segment (without the need for tensing everything in order to lock them together at the instant of impact) can also be illustrated by the “Newton’s cradle” toy, or by using billiard balls that are lined up and touching each other, and then striking the first ball with the cue ball, and watching the last ball in the contacting/connected line be sent away. Both of these, like the beads on a string, use aligned but loose balls (not fastened together, or not “tensed”) to transmit the force. This illustrates “whole body” force transmission without requiring tension upon impact.

The body needs to have the proper structure to connect the hands to the feet upon impact/application, for increased power when issuing energy, or to respond to the attacks of one’s partner or opponent when receiving energy. Structural alignment allows for the transmission of force. If the hand starts, then the hand guides the elbow, the elbow guides the shoulder, and the shoulder guides the body, all the way to our feet touching the ground.

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