Category: Training

  • Taking The Initiative In Taijiquan

    Taking The Initiative In Taijiquan

    Wu Yuxiang’s (武禹襄) Taijiquan (太極拳) classic states “You must act according to your opponent, not try to do things from yourself, for if you go along with your opponent, you can act spontaneously, but if you act from yourself, you will get bogged down.” and “If he takes no action, I take no action, but once he takes even the slightest action, I have already acted.” The Taijiquan classic attributed to Yang Banhou (楊班侯) says “The basic of basics is to forget about your plans and simply respond to the opponent.”

    These sayings (all as translated by Paul Brennan) emphasize the predominately counter-attacking approach of Taijiquan. But does this mean that practitioners cannot initiate actions against an opponent, and that they must wait until the opponent attacks?

    In many conflicts the aggressor has an advantage since the opponent needs to be able to understand the attack and then respond. The aggressor already knows their intent, but there is a delay for the recipient since they usually cannot determine what the aggressor intends until after the aggressor initiates their attack. This delay is what Taijiquan trains to eliminate.

    We want to know what the opponent intends, but not let them know our plans. By allowing the opponent to initiate the action, we can gain information about their intent. By “forgetting about your plans” the opponent cannot read or understand our intent.

    “Borrowing force” is commonly practiced in Taijiquan. We want to use the opponent’s actions to defeat them, emphasizing responding to the opponent rather than initiating actions ourselves. This is accomplished through “sticking.” In order to use Taijiquan’s principle of stick and adhere, connect and follow (zhan nian lian sui 粘黏連隨) we typically want to be in contact with the opponent. Can we induce contact, or must we await an advance from the opponent before we can touch them?

    What about when we are using weapons where contact is often broken? In the weapons sparring that I learned, in choreographed sparring sets, drills and free sparring, we are often separated, and we frequently attack openings even when we are not in contact with the opponent’s weapon. How then does this remain compatible with Taijiquan strategy?

    There are several ways to approach these questions.

    My understanding is that there are ways to interact with an opponent that do not require the opponent to initiate the actions. For example, there are sayings that refer to having simultaneously true and false attacks. We want an attack to be real, yet be able to change it into a feint, depending on the opponent’s response. This means that we attack an opening or weak area of the opponent, but when they change to respond, we can abandon our attack and change to respond to their new actions. Initiating an attack in this way can be used to connect with the opponent when they respond.

    Some schools refer to the interactions of push-hands (推手 tui shou) training as being like a question and answer conversation. You supply energy (an attack or feint) towards your partner (the “question”), and listen for their response (their “answer”). Your follow-up action would depend on theirs, continuing the attack if their response is wrong or, if their response is correct, changing your action in order to “ask” another question or to respond to their counter (their “question”). The person that “asks” is initiating the interaction, but what happens afterwards depends on the partner’s response (“answer”).

    This type of interplay reflects the simultaneous true and false attack because the follow-up depends on how the opponent responds to the initial attack. However, it does not require that one only respond (“answer”) without ever initiating (“asking”).

    Some schools train to continually flow towards the opponent’s spine when attacking, like a river flowing to the ocean. Using this approach, the goal is to control the opponent’s spine as a way of controlling their stability and movements. Any blocking by the opponent is like an obstacle in the way of the water’s movement, and should be flowed around, over washed, undercut, or worn away. This is another way of maintaining a responsive initiative during an interaction.

    Another quote from Wu Yuxiang (Brennan translation) is “If an opportunity comes from yourself, go ahead and shoot, but when force comes from your opponent, borrow it.” Here “shoot” likely refers to the Taijiquan principle of storing energy like drawing a bow, and then releasing the energy like shooting the arrow, and probably means, in general, to attack. This quote seems to indicate that, though it may be desirable to have the opponent move first in order to have them commit to some action that is then used against them (borrowing their force), it is not a requirement; we can still attack on our own initiative.

    Those who have faced a quality modern boxing jab know how difficult it is to stick and adhere, connect and follow when the jab and the return to the guard position are both so fast. But boxing blocks are relatively stationary, especially when they are of the covering type. This means that when they initiate their attacks using a jab, they are very difficult to connect and adhere to, but when we initiate an attack from non-contact, their defense often allows us to connect with them. Once we contact the opponent, we can employ the skills that are typically trained in push-hands practice, for as long as we maintain the contact.

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  • Bad Training Partners

    Bad Training Partners

    I recently wrote an article about four training mistakes often seen in Pushing Hands (Tui Shou or 推手). That article was intended to educate people so that they could strive to be better partners. But what happens when you’re the good one, but your training partner is not? Training with partners of any kind will eventually lead to being paired with someone that keeps making mistakes, has their own agenda, or is too caught up in their ego to be a good partner. What do you do then?
    Obviously before you say anything to your partner, you have to make sure that you aren’t guilty of the same problem behaviours. Sometimes it’s easy to fall into a competitive cycle, which escalates because of your own involvement. So, always remind yourself that you are there to learn how to avoid falling off balance, rather than to prove you are better than someone else is.

    Once you’re sure you aren’t instigating or escalating the troubling behaviours, the best solution is to talk to your partner. Tell your partner about your training goals and enlist their help in achieving them. Saying something like, “I need to go slowly today because I’m working on developing better timing,” is often all it takes to get your partner to stop and think.

    However, sometimes friction between partners comes about because one of them feels threatened by the other. If you find yourself in this position, it’s important to remember that your partner may not even be consciously aware of this. They may not realize how much you bring out the competitive streak in them.

    best solution to this problem is that you have to remove any threat they feel from you. In these cases, it’s helpful to say something like, “You keep pushing me over using this or that technique and I’m having real trouble defending against it. Do you have any suggestions?”

    By doing this, you’ve effectively announced that you’re not competing with them, but rather trying to improve your skills. When your partner isn’t feeling threatened by you, their behaviour can and often will significantly change.

    You also have to realize that you may be in a completely different place (emotionally, spiritually, and even training level) than your partner. Sometimes people are stuck at one phase of learning and aren’t ready to improve yet. It won’t help to get mad or impatient with your training partner if they keep repeatedly making the same mistakes. You have to realize that this is their challenge to overcome and they just aren’t ready yet.

    If this is happening, you sometimes just have to remind yourself that you aren’t going to Pushing Hands with this person forever, and just do your best while you wait for the next partner to come along.

    Sometimes you may find yourself paired regularly with a partner who just doesn’t get it, is too aggressive, or is otherwise a problem for you. If this happens, you may need to have a private word with your teacher, but don’t be accusatory or confrontational about it. Sometimes teachers pair partners together when they think that one or both can learn from the experience. Even if your partner is the one exhibiting bad habits, you may be the one who needs to learn how to deal with this without losing your temper.

    Even if your teacher didn’t pair you with a frustrating partner on purpose, you can often look at your work together as a way of overcoming your own anger and frustration issues. Often anger and frustration may be a big obstacle to your own skills advancing. Once you overcome your own frustration, you may find that whatever bad habits your partner was exhibiting don’t matter anymore. You may even find that, in dealing with your frustrations, you are now capable of neutralizing the techniques that were once a problem.

  • Taijiquan – Moving Through Molasses

    Taijiquan – Moving Through Molasses

    Some Taijiquan (太極拳) practitioners, especially those who are older or who primarily practice for health, tend to practice as softly as possible. Some instead practice as if moving or “swimming” through molasses. This article presents my understanding of the benefits of practicing Taijiquan as if moving through molasses. This practice can be more than simply moving slowly, benefiting also from using modest “resistance” against movement.

    First let’s examine potential benefits of moving slowly. Slowness allows for using mindfulness, providing time to concentrate on some of the myriad principles important to Taijiquan practice. Taijiquan is sometimes referred to as a moving meditation.

    It could be argued that the slowest “movement” is doing stationary postures in zhan zhuang (站樁 standing like a post), a fairly common practice in various traditions. Zhan zhuang for martial arts is not limited to commonly practiced postures like the tree hugging stance (撑抱 cheng bao), but can be any posture from one’s form(s).

    For a detailed explanation of zhan zhuang see:
    http://taichibasics.com/zhan-zhuang-pole-standing-different-qi-gong-meditation/

    While zhan zhuang can develop qi (氣 vital energy) and its circulation, I’ll instead present my understanding of zhan zhuang’s physical practice, since this is less often discussed and is more relevant to this article.

    When standing stationary for long periods of time, the body is learning to efficiently resist the force of gravity. This is training for the “stabilizer” muscles, which are often smaller (and powerful) muscles that can remain active for long periods of time, and are used to support the body rather than to move it.

    Stationary standing may also activate the passive energy structures, such as tendons and ligaments, which are able to participate in movement without the use of ATP (Ben Fisher, Physical Therapist, personal communication).

    Using “mobilizing” muscles instead of the stabilizers to hold stationary postures fatigues them relatively quickly, and can result in severe muscle pain, trembling, and other signs of stress during zhan zhuang training. This is why body builders often do worse at zhan zhuang than average healthy individuals. The body builder’s mobilizing muscles are greatly developed, but this often inadvertently leads to a weakening of the stabilizers because the mobilizing muscles become strong and may take over the job of the stabilizers, resulting in less use of the stabilizers which then become smaller and weaker and/or less coordinated.

    The current understanding for strengthening stabilizer muscles is to do numerous reps slowly. This fits well with Taijiquan’s emphasis on doing forms slowly for the duration of the rather lengthy form(s).

    Stationary practice trains the stabilizers against gravity, or vertical force, and helps practitioners to develop “rooting” or transferring force through their structure and into their feet, and therefore into the ground. But we want whole-body structural stability in every direction since interactions with other practitioners or opponents can come from almost any direction.

    All-direction stability can be facilitated through practicing solo forms with the modest resistance, against every surface of the body and in every direction, that visualizing moving through molasses provides.

    Another way of expressing a similar concept is practicing solo forms as if against an opponent. This imagery contributes modest resistance to pulls and pushes as a practitioner moves through the sequence of their solo form(s), and aids one’s mental focus, or intent (用意 yongyi). We want to develop a unified structure, utilizing the stabilizer muscles, tendons and ligaments, in relation to any incoming or outgoing force, in any direction.

    I often use the image of a properly inflated ball to express the six-direction force. The limitation here is that the air filling the ball only expresses energy outward, not inward (although the material of the ball contains the air and would therefore be like an inward force). In martial usage of Taijiquan, we want the stabilizers, tendons and ligaments to provide the unified structure for pulling and pushing, absorbing and projecting.

    By developing the ability to express force in all directions (or to maintain the potential in all directions simultaneously even when one or more direction is being emphasized during an application), practitioners will maintain their ability to change even when moving. This is especially difficult during the unpredictability of fighting.

    Maintaining six-direction force throughout one’s movements also helps to maintain “central equilibrium” (中定 zhongding). Using stabilizing muscles, tendons and ligaments to withstand/absorb incoming energy and for stabilizing the structure when issuing energy also leads to the resilient, whole-body unity that we seek in Taijiquan practice and application.

    If we properly use the stabilizing muscles, tendons and ligaments to maintain proper structure, then we can relax the mobilizing muscles, the flexors and extensors, which are the larger and more noticeable muscles generally located closer to the surface of the body (those that can “bulk up”). This is one way of understanding the use of internal strength rather than external strength. It also means that we are not losing our sensitivity due to tension in our outer musculature.

    While some practitioners understand internal strength as meaning that we should use energy rather than muscles, I think that this may be somewhat misinterpreted. My understanding is that internal and external are differentiated by what is or is not visible on the surface of the body. The larger muscles (as well as fat, etc.) that contribute to what we can visibly see on the surface of the body are considered to be external, whereas the smaller, deeper muscles, as well as tendons and ligaments whose effects do not visibly affect the surface of the body, are considered to be internal.

    From this perspective, the stabilizing muscles, which are generally smaller and located deeper in the body, would be considered as part of the internal system in addition to energy, spirit, intent, etc. The larger flexor and extensor muscles, typically located closer to the surface of the body, would be considered as being external. So we should be first training the energy and the stabilizer muscles, and only later, after the stabilizers are strong and resilient, should we add the “external” strength of the mobilizing muscles.

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  • Why I Think Everyone Should Learn Some Pushing Hands

    Why I Think Everyone Should Learn Some Pushing Hands

    I encourage all my students to learn Pushing Hands (sometimes called Pushands or Push Hands, also known as Tui Shou or 推手). Even if my students are learning Tàijíquán for health purposes and insist that they never wish to learn fighting at all, I still encourage them to learn Pushing Hands.

    I have a reason for that, of course.

    Over the years, I’ve seen amazing benefits for those who practice Pushing Hands—many of which go beyond martial arts benefits and enter into the realm of psychological and social benefits. I’ve been teaching for almost 25 years now and in that time, I’ve watched Pushing Hands help people with trust issues, anger issues, bad relationships, and even past traumas.

    The first time I saw this phenomenon, I asked myself, “How the heck does that work?” In the years since then, I have come to understand how it can do these things. But to understand it, we’re going to have to examine some of these problems and how our bodies react to them.

    Trust issues, bad relationships, anger, and even trauma caused by other people all have one thing in common: conflict. It doesn’t matter if the conflict is physical or emotional, our body’s reaction, and our resolution skills are often the same. One of the main reasons for this is that the brain does not differentiate between physical or emotional conflict. When we perceive either, our body reacts by dumping hormones and activating muscles preparing our body for one of two very primitive responses. When faced with danger our body prepares either to fight or to run. This is affectionately called the “Fight or Flight” response.

    That physical changes associated with feeling threatened usually activate a hastily constructed set of conflict resolution skills, and more often than not, these techniques aren’t very helpful. They often lead to a verbal attack against the person who made us feel threatened, or emotionally distancing ourselves—or “running away”—from that person. Pushing Hands helps your body and mind deal with these situations because it retrains your physical conflict resolution habits, which in turn, helps you to change your emotional conflict resolution habits.

    Let us now look at the skills taught by Pushing Hands. Traditional teachers will often mention words like “Rooting, Listening, Neutralizing, and Redirecting.”

    Rooting is often called by many names. I’ve heard it called “grounding” or even “stabilizing.” No matter what its name, Rooting refers to stability of stance. When being pushed, instead of pushing back, you allow the force to pass through you and into the ground. Instead of leaning against the incoming push for stability, the practitioner sinks his or her core, driving the force harmlessly into the earth.

    From a fighting standpoint, this is particularly brilliant. Often, inexperienced fighters will actually lean against one another, using their opponent to prop them up. However, if the opponent were to stop pushing quite suddenly, the prop goes away and the fighter who was leaning falls. From a psychological standpoint, this is akin to depending on someone else for your own emotional balance. When someone says, “I’m mad at you because you did . . .” Most people don’t hear anything after the words “I’m mad at you.” Instead, merely having someone mad at them is enough for them to allow themselves to become mad back, and they respond in kind no matter what reason the other person has for being mad.

    When I first learned Pushing Hands, I practiced rooting training all the time. I realized it had carried over into my daily life when I suddenly realized I was going through the motions of being mad at someone who was mad at me, but when I really thought about it, I wasn’t actually angry. I was just responding as if I were, because that’s the way I’d always reacted before. Suddenly, I was faced with the choice of behaving as if I were mad, or choosing something else.

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  • Do Your Breathing

    Do Your Breathing

    breathe-2Whenever I see my son about to scream or cry out of frustration and/or anger, I tell him “Do your breathing”. Immediately, my two year old will raise and lower his arms while “sinking” (a Qigong exercise that my Taiji sifu taught me during my first day at his Taiji school). My son, Mason, gets caught up in his breathing and actually forgets why he is angry in the first place.

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

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

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

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

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

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

  • A Kowtow To The Boxers Of Old

    A Kowtow To The Boxers Of Old

    Wu Yu Xiang’s Taijiquan

    This article is based on Sun Jian Guo’s book on the Taijiquan of Wu Yu Xiang (1812-1880), and some of it’s components.

    In It are included 3 traditional fist forms, an excellent timetable of events, 2 postures from the practice of the training logs situated above the ground, some self-defense applications, biographies of several important boxers and a short lineage chart. Also included is a DVD.

    There are photos of Sun Jian Guo (student of Li Jin Fan 1920-1991) with the sword, knife, and staff and also demonstrating Fa Jing (explosive power). Two of his students are posed to begin sparring with knives. These knives are shaped like one half of a spearhead on the dull side of the blade for catching weapons in combat. The author is also shown practicing the staff with a Caucasian student in the mountains, and even Chen Xiao Wang from the Chen family, makes an appearance on page 6.

    Also included are certificates, and old manuscripts in this 286-page book, with Sun Jian Guo posing on the cover of the book in a posture from the Wu style 2nd routine called Pao Chui or Cannon Fist.
    The author has been frequently featured in Chinese martial arts magazines, and has almost 100 listed students, and his teacher Li Jin Fan, is a direct student of Li Yi Yu’s (1832-1892) student.

    The timetable of events as everything else, is written in Chinese, but not the years in which events take place, from 1634-2011.

    The 1st routine or form of Wu Yu Xiang was created by him in 1857, and called the center or main form. In 1859 he created Pao Chui, 13 Posture Knife, and 13 Posture sword. Li Yi Yu the prized student of Wu Yu Xiang, is actually the one credited with the creation of the 3rd form simply called “Xiao Jar” (small frame), in the year 1862.

    Even for one whose grasp of written Chinese is a foreign subject, the timetable is a fascinating read. Familiar names appear and disappear, associations are seen, and creations of the boxers are born.

    Some comparisons of the forms are as follows; the first routine is quite long and the stances are large. All 3 forms begin the same way, but the first form has large stances. The second form has even larger stances than the first, while the third form has small stances.

    Each photo is given a number, for example the first routine numbers from 1-374, the second routine 1-159, and the third routine 1-141.

    These photographs are large, performed by the author, and beautifully done. There are arrows outlining the movements, and instructions and commentaries. In this one book the author wears 5 different outfits.

    There are no jumps or skips in the 3rd form, as there are in the first two. In form 1 posture 159, both feet leave the surface, left hand extended forward with the right hand hidden by the body, right foot higher than the left with the left toes pointing towards the surface, leading up to the movement of striking the opponents groin.

    In posture 164-165 of the same form, there is the slapping of the right foot with the right hand, also with both feet in the air.

    The jumps in the second routine of Wu Yu Xiang are very pronounced, and when turning the pages of the book, cause one to just stop and look. In posture # 64, the author (demonstrating all 3 forms), looks up into the air, lowers his body, opens his eyes wide, spreads both arms to his sides, before springing into the air into our directional view of 9 o’clock. Both hands are at his left and right sides, similar to athletes giving each other a chest bump.

    Video of Sun Jian Guo performing Pao Chui form.

    From posture # 72 also in the second routine, from a posture resembling the Yang’s family “Crane Spreads Wings” with the weight mostly on the back left foot with hands forming into fists, the hands switch (left going down and the right coming up) and once again both feet leave the surface looking as if the author is being blown from behind by a very strong wind. The first jump lands in a bow and arrow stance, while the second jump lands in a horse stance.

    The second routine is pretty much its own form. Besides the opening and a few postures such as a large “Single Whip”, it bears little resemblance at all to the first routine, although some postures are seen in all 3 forms.

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  • Lessons from Taijiquan Interactive Weapons Practice

    Lessons from Taijiquan Interactive Weapons Practice

    Many Taijiquan (太極拳) practitioners never learn interactive weapons, and some do not even study weaponless interactive principles. This article will introduce some of the benefits of learning interactive weapons, and what those weapons can teach that may not be emphasized in weaponless study.

    Each weapon type has unique characteristics that emphasize different aspects of Taijiquan. Although my experience with interactive weapons is somewhat limited, I do have at least some training in all of the five classic weapons of Taijiquan that correspond to the five elements/phases (五行 wuxing) of Chinese philosophy.

    In the wuxing, weaponless corresponds to Earth. Practitioners should learn to interact without weapons prior to studying interactive weapons. I will not cover interactive weaponless work specifically, but will point out how the weapons, as I learned them, differ from weaponless work. Weaponless principles should be applied to weapons work.

    All weapons will add weight to be controlled, and will improve the connection through the body in order to do so. Practitioners will also need to extend their energy beyond their own body and into the weapon in order to enliven the weapon, and to interact with the opponent through weapons which are less capable of sensitivity than when skin is touching skin. Since stick and adhere, connect and follow (zhan nian lian sui 粘黏連隨) are more difficult through a weapon, practitioners working with weapons will have another vehicle to improve these fundamental skills.

    In addition to harmonizing oneself, weapons practice requires that one harmonize with the weapon. It is not easy to smoothly control a foreign object. A weapon has its own center, balance point, and movement characteristics which need to be followed by the practitioner. Holding the weapon creates another joint and/or an extension of the arm.

    The creative cycle of the wuxing has Earth producing Metal. Metal corresponds to the saber (刀 dao; knife, single edged sword). Although the saber is not as popular in Taijiquan as the double edged straight sword, according to the wuxing, it should be practiced first after learning weaponless interactive principles.

    The choreographed sparring form that I learned is very similar to Fu Zhongwen’s version given in the following translation by Paul Brennan:
    YANG STYLE TAIJI SABER ACCORDING TO FU ZHONGWEN

    The style of saber pictured is called liuyedao (柳葉刀 willow leaf saber) and would traditionally weigh about 1 kg or more (2-3 pounds) and is typically about 36 to 39 inches long. Some Yang and Wu style schools prefer a longer liuyedao blade, and they utilize an “S-shaped” hand guard and a longer handle with a ring pommel. These differences facilitate two-handed techniques. Some practitioners prefer using a niuweidao (牛尾刀 ox-tail saber) instead; a style that developed in the early 1800’s and has a flaring tip (this is the most popular reproduction style and was a folk weapon that was never a part of the official Qing Dynasty weapons inventory).

    A saber emphasizes chopping and hacking techniques over thrusting, although thrusts are still possible (depending on the design, some sabers have angled handles to help retain thrusting ability when the curvature of the blade is pronounced). Because of the powerful chopping energy, defense against a saber tends to avoid the blade rather than blocking or deflecting it, and this can be seen in Fu’s sparring form where the saber blades never touch.

    fu-saberSome variants of the form do occasionally deflect or block the opponent’s saber; for example Fu’s movement 4B, a check to the opponent’s wrist, can instead be used to deflect/block the opponent’s blade. Other forms may use the saber to deflect the opponent’s saber (especially against thrusts) in a manner more common to double edged straight sword sparring.

    If you picture facing a chopping saber as being similar to having an axe swung at you, then you can understand why evasion is the primary defense. Dao training therefore emphasizes footwork. Practitioners step to avoid the opponent’s saber, and step again to attack. This means that distance and angles are important features of saber sparring.

    When stepping defensively, the saber is often used to strike the opponent’s attacking arm, preventing the opponent from changing directions with their weapon to follow you. This defensive approach (stepping to evade the opponent’s weapon while attacking their arm/wrist) frequently creates openings that allow one to then attack the opponent’s body.

    The fierceness of the saber, combined with the emphasis on stepping, reflect the quality associated with this weapon of an enraged tiger charging down a mountain.

    The sword (劍 jian) is associated with a flying phoenix or a swimming dragon and, according to the wuxing creative cycle (Metal creates Water) would be the next weapon to learn. Although more difficult to use than the saber, the sword is much more popular for Taijiquan because of the circularity in usage (both dragon and phoenix are said to move in circular, coiling manners). This circularity fits with Taijiquan’s flavor better than the more linear saber usage.

    Swords are historically approximately the same length as sabers, but typically weigh slightly less. Personalized measurement for swords and sabers is from the floor to the navel, although some schools prefer longer swords with the length up to the sternum.

    I have not been able to find written information online on the interactive sword sparring form that I learned, but the following link from Brennan Translation for Wudang jian gives information about interactive sword:
    WUDANG SWORD

    This video shows a version of the Taiji jian sparring form that I learned:

    Sword usage has more stabbing and cutting than the saber, and teaches lightness and intelligence over power. There is typically deflecting and guiding control over the opponent’s weapon, and the two person drills often look similar to weaponless push-hands drills. The sword is somewhat intermediate between the directness and power of the saber, and the softness of the hand.

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  • Tai Chi: Not Just “Old People in the Park”

    Tai Chi: Not Just “Old People in the Park”

    old-people-tai-chi

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

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

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

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

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

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

  • Multitasking? The Mind, Attention, and Intention in Taijiquan

    Multitasking? The Mind, Attention, and Intention in Taijiquan

    First the bad news: research indicates that humans are not really capable of multitasking (actively thinking about multiple things simultaneously). However, if some task is routine, then we can focus on another task simultaneously.

    When trying to focus on more than one task, we rapidly switch our attention from one task to another. Although it seems instantaneous, switching from one task to another is neither fast nor smooth. There is a significant lag of up to 40% longer than when focusing on a single task, especially when the tasks are complex, or when they use the same type of brain processing.

    MindResearch indicates that we may be able to switch focus between two tasks, since our brains are accustomed to either-or (binary) choices. The two frontal lobes of the brain apparently can serial task. One lobe’s task is on hold while the other task is being executed, and this pattern switches back and forth rapidly. But a third task is too much to focus on, and the brain will prefer to drop one task rather than switching between the three.

    This system allows us to ignore distractions when we desire to focus on something that we judge to be important. Of course, some people are better at ignoring distractions than others are. People often benefit from meditation to clear the clutter from their minds that distracts them from focusing on current tasks.

    Slight of hand magicians use our one-track-mind nature to distract us from what they do not want us to see. They use gestures, choreographed movements, eye contact and facial expressions, a distracting patter of speech – multiple things to catch our eyes and ears and keep our minds off balance. Their success is an indication of how poorly humans focus on multiple things.

    When young, many of us have experienced the difficulty of patting our head while simultaneously rubbing our belly, and those people who are especially clumsy are teased with the exaggeration that they cannot walk and chew gum at the same time.

    Of course, walking and eating are routine for most people, so we should be able to do these activities simultaneously. But what about martial arts, where the opponent presents us with variable stimuli when interacting with us? Even in controlled freestyle push-hands interactions, we typically need to be aware of what both of their hands are doing, even if the legs are not also allowed to attack us.

    Training does help to make tasks familiar enough to focus on other aspects of an interaction. For example, a drummer in an improvisational music group can use both arms and both legs to produce different rhythmic patterns, all while tracking the progressions of the musical piece, as well as listening to what the other musicians are doing, and modifying their drumming to complement the other musicians. Some drummers can even sing while playing (adding melody to their focus on rhythm).

    Taijiquan (太極拳) practitioners often start by learning the choreography of a solo form. This is motor learning (“muscle memory”) or learning specific movements through repetition. Eventually, the moves will become familiar enough that less attention needs to be devoted to them, and eventually they can be performed without conscious effort (the movements are stored in the brain as memories). But even after learning the form, practitioners can usually only focus on one or two aspects for refinement during each practice.

    Taijiquan solo training is not so different than the following description for dancers:

    “Most dancers share a relatively similar path, first learning the choreography and then adding layers of detail and color. Finally, they absorb the work so completely that its elements literally become automatic, leaving the dancer’s brain free to focus on the moment-by-moment nuances of the performance” (Diane Soloway, 5/28/2007).

    Continue to page 2…

  • Teaching Yourself

    Teaching Yourself

    Teaching YourselfThe article Teaching Yourself is reprinted on Slanted Flying website with the permission of the author Sam Langley from his personal Blog.

    If you want to learn Tai Chi you need to have a teacher, hopefully a good one.

    You can’t simply copy the movements from a video or read about the principles in a book and expect to gain any skill whatsoever. Once you have found a teacher however, you need to practice what you’ve been shown on your own and this is the only way to learn Tai Chi.

    Through regular solo practice you learn how to teach yourself. Students who go to classes regularly but don’t practice on their own make little real progress. This is because real Tai Chi is a very difficult art to understand. You can only penetrate it’s mystery on your own.

    When you practice on your own you are learning how to feel what’s going on in your body. In Tai Chi we want to move the whole body together as one, how can you learn to do that. Well, go and find out in your own time.

    Although regular time with a good teacher is vital, you may find that more and more you are able to answer your own questions.

    If you are enthusiastic about Tai Chi it’s fun to talk about and I used to take every opportunity to bombard my teacher with questions. I think it’s good to have an inquiring mind and I could happily chat all night to my teacher or anyone else who has wisdom to impart. These days I ask less questions and practice more. I feel confident enough to figure things out on my own. If I have a question about some aspect of Tai Chi I’d rather see if I can work it out myself. If I do ask about something it’s often to check that what I’ve discovered is correct.

    Too many questions and too much talk about Tai Chi can actually impair your ability to listen. As your mind becomes quieter, your intuition gets stronger and the solutions come to you unhindered. That happens in two ways, firstly you discover things yourself and secondly you are more open and receptive to advice.

    As a teacher I am aware of how difficult it is to communicate the principles verbally. It’s all very well telling someone to relax, to sink the weight into the legs and the move the whole body, they need to find out how to do that themselves.

    Even when a highly skilled teacher physically corrects you, it’s still you that’s doing the feeling and the learning yourself. You could be training with Chen Xiaowang every week and unless you’re making an effort to understand what’s happening in your own body it would be a waste of time.

    So in summary, whatever your reasons for doing Tai Chi… go and practice and learn how to teach yourself!