Author: Dan Pasek

 

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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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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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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In Taijiquan (太極拳) solo practice, one aligns with gravity and only an imaginary opponent that does not produce forces that impact us. But the forces from an actual opponent can come from almost any angle, rather than just vertically from above like the force of gravity does. This article discusses how Taijiquan directs an opponent’s forces into the practitioners “root” (the legs and down into the feet) and the ground.

We habitually respond to forces in front of us by pushing back, or by pulling to our rear. This is, essentially responding horizontally. We have taught ourselves from childhood to use our weight against resistant objects that we wish to move, which is reflected in the sayings “put your back into it” or “throwing your weight around.” But if we push or pull against something that suddenly gives way, we can lose our balance and may fall down. This is the result of acting on forces horizontally.

This horizontal approach can be exploited because of the loss of stability when the pressure suddenly changes, and Taijiquan warns against leaning against the opponent. Wu Yuxiang (武禹襄) wrote (Paul Brennan translation): “With your headtop pressing up naturally and energy sinking down to your elixir field, there will be no leaning in any direction. The Song says: ‘Your tailbone is centered and spirit penetrates to your headtop, thus your whole body will be nimble and your headtop will be pulled up as if suspended.’”

Although Wu does not explicitly mention an opponent, the effect of the mentioned up and down energies produces a verticality that counters the tendency to lean horizontally. If one tries to brace with the rear leg, especially if simultaneously leaning forward to push an opponent or to resist their incoming energy, then one is relying more on horizontal energy, and one loses their agility because that braced back leg can no longer be nimble, therefore reducing the agility of the entire body.

Horizontal resistance can produce the “butting cow” (顶牛 ding niu) error rather than rooting into the feet that we try to train. Rooting into the ground like a tree, and sinking energy down into the ground relies more on a vertically stacked alignment of the body; an alignment with gravity. Horizontal forces should be produced by the turning of the waist or shifting forward or back while maintaining a vertical mass, rather than pushing or angling one’s mass to lean against the opponent.

Wu also writes (Brennan translation) that “Your posture must be straight and comfortable, so as to brace in all directions.” I do not think that he means to “brace” rigidly so much as to be supported vertically, like a tall pole being held vertically by guy wire supports in several directions. We are directed to always maintain at least a slight bend in the legs rather than locking either leg straight, and maintaining bends one’s legs allows one to direct incoming energy more vertically into the ground.

Another way of viewing how Taijiquan attempts to align forces vertically is to consider the rounding of the crotch (圆裆 yuan dang, a roundness from the inside of one knee to the inside of the other) to be like the support provided by an architectural arch. One’s crotch should transmit forces vertically into one’s legs in a manner similar to how an architectural arch transmits forces vertically into its support columns. This is easiest to see when one is standing in mabu (馬步 horse stance), which is similar to how one’s legs are held when riding a horse.

When sitting on a horse, the crotch needs to be rounded to accommodate the horse’s body, while the knees are directed into the animal’s flanks, and the shins are more vertically directed down into the stirrups. One should be able to rise up off the saddle without the stirrups swinging way out to the sides. If one can rise up off the saddle (standing in the stirrups) while maintaining the legs in a manner that is similar to when seated in the saddle, then one will have the rounded crotch and energy directed downwards rather than outward; similar to what we want in Taijiquan.

The following posture of Chen Ziming (審定者) illustrates the rounded crotch and the verticality of the shins even when there is more weight on his right leg rather than being equal weighted as in a horse riding stance. The picture of Yang Chengfu (杨澄甫) shows the rounded crotch and verticality of the shins when in an equal weighted transitional stance in Yang style. The same principle is seen in the picture of Wu Jianquan’s (吴鉴泉) Wu style even thought the feet are more splayed outwards.

Contrast these with the Vitruvian Man illustration where the legs are straightened and form an inverted v-shape at the groin. On an icy or otherwise slippery surface it would be easy to understand Chen, Yang and Wu remaining comfortably stable whereas the Vitruvian Man would likely slide into the splits. Chen’s, Yang’s and Wu’s body weight is fairly vertical into the ground whereas the Vitruvian Man’s has big horizontal components to both the left and the right which rely on friction to provide stability.

Another analogy to view the verticality that we want is to think of the legs as springs rather than as braces. Springy legs compress into, and expand from, the feet/ground whereas braces are angled and rely on friction with the ground to transmit horizontal support. Wu Yuxiang also wrote (Brennan translation): “Starting from your foot, issue through your leg….” This reflects the springiness of the legs which transmit forces into and from the feet/ground. One should absorb and project to/from the feet/ground.

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Taijiquan (太極拳) saber (刀 dao, sometimes called a “broadsword” and referring to the single edged sword) and sword (劍 jian, double-edged straight sword) have numerous techniques, but many traditions only list their most important thirteen in order to follow the precedent of the weaponless thirteen skills (十三式 shi san shi). This is rather arbitrary and there are many additional techniques that practitioners may be exposed to. Different schools or styles often list different thirteen skills.

This article gives a list of technique terms that I have encountered while studying dao/saber and jian/sword, as well as short explanations for how those techniques are used. Note however that other schools and traditions may use the terms differently than how I understand them. I attempt to provide general descriptions rather than style or form specific examples, but other interpretations may be just as valid.

While many techniques are common to both dao/saber and jian/sword, some are weapon specific. For example, some saber techniques use the dull back of the blade and therefore are not appropriate for the double-edged sword. Both the dao/saber and jian/sword will be referred to generically as swords in this technique list.

Some terms may be use as synonyms, but others may have nuances that differentiate one from another. For example, for the three chops in the title of this article, some schools use pi and kan interchangeably; but I understand these three as follows:
Pi (劈) is like chopping or splitting with an axe where the entire arm is used and the pivoting action is primarily from the shoulder.
Kan (砍) is like chopping with a hatchet where the pivot is primarily from the elbow such that the forearm is used more than the upper arm.
Duo (剁) is more of a mincing chop like when using a cleaver to chop food and where the pivot is primarily from the wrist.

This article is intended to give practitioners, especially those who are fairly new to swordsmanship and who may only know of thirteen techniques, an introduction to various terms that they may encounter. It is not intended to give specific instructions for the various techniques, and practitioners should learn these techniques from their teacher for specific forms that they have learned.

拔 Ba/Pull – To use “stickiness” like suction to “seize” and pull the opponent’s weapon

抱 Bao/Embrace – A defensive move where the wrist holding the sword is quickly moved towards the body and to the free hand which contacts the forearm, wrist, or handle

弸 Beng/Flick – The handle snaps down (“collapses”) to explosively flick the tip up

闭 Bi/Obstruct – A closing motion like shutting something

藏 Cang/Conceal – This is a ready or guard position where the sword is held back but pointing towards the opponent, usually near one’s knee or hip in order to make it less visible to the opponent

缠 Chan/Wrap – A movement around the head or body; sometimes also used for one’s sword spiraling around the opponent’s weapon, or a spiraling block applied to their weapon

刺 Ci/Thrust – A distant extended straight line thrust

切 Che/Slice – Cutting on a tangent

沖 Chong/Thrust – A thrust with a slightly angled up tip

抽 Chou/Extract – To draw out, typically drawing the sword tip across for a short pulling cut

戳 Chou/Poke – A short jab as if to puncture

穿 Chuan/Bore – A thrust used to reverse direction to go to the back of the wielder’s body

錯 Cuo/Saw – Typically a forward push-cut using a sawing or filing motion

带 Dai/Drag – Using one’s sword to pull or lead or carry the opponent’s weapon to the rear

挡 Dang/Block – Using the hand guard to block

點 Dian/Dot – Small point, poke, or peck with the tip (typically downward) using a wrist flick

抖 Duo/Shake – This is a snappy move as in using fajin (發勁 emitting trained power)

剁 Duo/Hack – A short distance mincing chop (like using one’s wrist to chop food with a cleaver)

盖 Gai/Cover – placing the sword on top of the opponent’s weapon and pressing it downwards

格 Ge/Hinder – A soft parrying block with the sword ridge or blade flat while following the direction of movement of the opponent’s weapon, but can also be used in a similar motion to cut the opponent’s wrist

割 Ge/Block – Obstruct to cut off the opponent’s weapon movement typically initiated by turning the body

勾 Gou/Hook – Deflecting the opponent’s weapon by using a motion like hooking and lifting something off of the ground (deflecting with the tip down and back and then circling up

刮 Gua/Shave – Scraping motion typically used to counterattack the opponent’s wrist after evading them with a circular motion

挂 Gua/Lift – Using one’s sword to lift up an opponent’s low attack after circle deflecting backward

刮 Gua/Parry – A scraping parry

掛 Gua/Hang – Like hanging up onto a hook

摜 Guan/Fling – A circling poke

滚 Gun/Roll – Turning parry where the sword turns over as it goes from side to side, rolling one’s sword against the opponent’s weapon

横 Heng/Sideways Cut – A horizontal cut

化 Hua/Remove – A changing deflection

划 Hua/Slice – Like scratching the surface of the target

滑 Hua/Sliding – smoothly slipping upwards along an opponent’s weapon

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Breathe! We have been breathing every day since birth, so it should be easy to breath properly during Taijiquan (太極拳) practice, shouldn’t it? Well, it’s not so simple. Since breathing is an automatic process, most people have not been taught how to breathe, and many individuals have poor breathing habits (e.g., an estimated 30-50% of modern adults breathe excessively through the mouth, especially during the early morning hours).

There are many different ways that we naturally breathe, depending on the particular situations and our emotional states. There are also special breathing practices that can be used to enhance certain circumstances or produce certain effects.

We breathe differently when we are calm as opposed to being under stress, when we laugh or cry, when we yell or sneeze, etc. Stress breathing, which typically involves shallower, upper chest level breaths, often leads to shortness of breath. This can lead to quickly tiring due to insufficient oxygen, and people under these conditions are often told to take a deep breath to counteract the adverse effects of this inefficient, shallow way of breathing. Taking a deep breath can often also be calming.

The deep breath comes primarily from the movement of the diaphragm and is also called “abdominal breathing” because the abdomen visibly moves out on the inhalation and in on the exhalation. Chest breathing is shallow, using primarily the intercostal muscles of the ribcage, and the abdominal movements are less pronounced. For Taijiquan, “diaphragmatic” or “abdominal” breathing is typically taught.

Some practitioners unconsciously hold their breath when they are concentrating intently on difficult sequences, or when in tense situations while interacting with others. This can lead to hypoxia (insufficient oxygen) and should be avoided if one is aware of doing this. But for the most part our bodies naturally regulate our breathing depending upon the activities that we are engaged in. But we can also consciously control our breathing.

There seems to be no consensus about breathing in Taijiquan, with some teachers advocating letting the breathing come naturally, others advocating strictly coordinating the breathing with movements in the form sequence and others advocating “reverse” breathing or other specialized breathing methods. Reverse breathing, in a highly simplified description, would be having the abdomen go inward while inhaling, and outward while exhaling; the “opposite” of “normal” abdominal/diaphragmatic breathing.

Since different traditions use different breathing methods, I will not advocate for one being right and others wrong. Instead, I will present information from my perspective, and let readers decide for themselves. Sometimes the breathing method for beginners differs from what would be practiced after gaining experience. Sometimes the desired method of breathing depends on one’s goals or intent; whether simply for ease during gentle exercise, for energy cultivation, or for fighting, etc. This article will discuss natural diaphragmatic (abdominal) breathing, coordinated breathing, and reverse breathing.

If practicing primarily for health (calmness, reduced stress, etc.), then however your breathing naturally happens is probably sufficient. For beginners this is also probably the best approach since focusing on the breath can distract one’s attention from other aspects of the art that are being learned. Even so, the use of diaphragmatic/abdominal breathing is likely best. It is also typically recommended that practitioners should have the tip of their tongue lightly touching the roof of the mouth behind the teeth (on the hard pallet).

Even if one is not taught that the tongue connects the Ren Mai and Du Mai (任脈 conception and 督脈 governing meridians) for the microcosmic circulation of energy, this tongue placement also promotes saliva production. Saliva has been shown to promote healthy mouths and digestion. Most schools probably also practice microcosmic circulation, if not specifically during Taijiquan then at least as supplemental qigong (氣功 breath work) exercises.

Different qigong practices can have different breathing requirements; for example, regulating the length of the in-breath relative to the out-breath, sometimes holding the breath or “swallowing” it, breathing in and out through the nose only or alternating between inhaling through the nose and exhaling through the mouth, normal vs. reverse breathing, etc. Unless practitioners use Taijiquan for a specific qigong practice, many of the possible variations will not be encountered, and therefore I will not detail them in this article.

Natural abdominal/diaphragmatic breathing and breathing through the nose is probably sufficient for students during solo forms. Breathing through the nose is thought to be healthier than through the mouth due to the filtering, moistening and warming that occurs, and it allows one to maintain the tongue touching the roof of the mouth. For normal circumstances, this natural breathing is sufficient. More information on the benefits from nose breathing (including 10-20% more oxygen uptake) can be found in a review article by Dr. Alan Ruth here: http://hdl.handle.net/10147/559021

Qigong breathing, of whatever method, can be considered as specialized breathing. An analogy would be breathing for freediving (diving underwater without supplemental oxygen) where the needs require special techniques to optimize one’s existing oxygen supply. Freedivers prepare their bodies for extended periods underwater by inducing both natural physiological responses (e.g., triggering the mammalian diving reflex) as well as methods to purge the lungs of as much carbon dioxide as possible, etc.

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The saber/dao (刀, sometimes called a “broadsword” and refers to a single edged sword), one of the classical short weapons of Taijiquan (太極拳), is not as commonly practiced as the sword/jian (劍, double-edged straight sword). There are several reasons for this. In Chinese culture the saber is supposed to have the quality of an enraged tiger charging down a mountain, but this fierce unyielding directness does not easily fit the calm yielding circularity associated with Taijiquan.

When correlated with the wuxing (五行 five phases), the saber is associated with metal and would traditionally be the first weapon learned since earth – correlating with the barehanded practice – produces metal. Saber techniques are considered the foundation for short weapons, and therefore the saber would be learned prior to other short weapons like the jian/sword.

This article will examine the single hand saber and not the various two handed or pole arm varieties of dao, or shorter knives. The ox-tail saber (牛尾刀 niuweidao) is the one handed saber [drawing] most commonly thought of today and was probably developed as a folk weapon in the early 1800’s. It has a flared and upward curving tip.

 

 

The military regulation dao most commonly used for Taijiquan were called a goose-quill saber (雁毛刀 yanmaodao) or a gently curved willow-leaf saber (柳葉刀 liuyedao). Both maintain a fairly constant width until reaching the pointed tip [photo]. Some Yang and Wu style schools use the goose-quill saber often modified with an “S-shaped” hand guard and a longer handle (hand and a half) with a ring pommel.

Taiji forms often use the ox-tail and goose-quill (or willow-leaf) sabers almost interchangeably, with different schools using one or the other style saber for nearly identical forms, although there are some differences that affect their usage. The goose-quill saber retains its thrusting ability fairly well even though it has a slight curvature to the blade at the distal third of its length. The curvature and the flared tip of the ox-tail saber make it less suitable for thrusting, and it typically has an angled handle in order to help in retaining some thrusting ability. The decreased thrusting ability of the ox-tail saber is less important against unarmored opponents where powerful chops and slashes can be effectively used.

Ox-tail sabers would traditionally weigh about 1 kg or more (2-3 pounds) and typically be about 30 to 39 inches long. The goose-quill saber of a similar length would traditionally weigh perhaps 25% less than an ox-tail saber. Both would have a balance point about 6-8 inches beyond where the handle meets the hand guard. Both typically have a false back edge on the distal third of the blade (the removal of metal here reduces weight and improves the balance) although this is sometimes sharpened into a true back edge. Fullers (sometimes called “blood grooves”) are commonly used to reduce the blade weight and improve the balance, especially on ox-tail sabers.

If the saber usage is fierce, unyielding and direct, how can practitioners use it in a more internal way that conforms more to Taijiquan’s calm yielding circularity? From a theoretical perspective, metal is represented by a yang line over a yin line, and this implies the ability to change. Actual metal needed to be heated and molded or hammered or otherwise manipulated and changed in order to make useful items. So even though metal is rigid, it can be manipulated and changed.

The usage of the saber in Taijiquan relies on change, beginning with one’s footwork to change angles and manipulate the distance from the opponent. Even though the saber blade is strong, Taiji saber only infrequently uses “hard” blocks against an opponent’s weapon unless the block is against the wooden shaft of a long weapon like a spear. Taiji saber instead typically uses footwork to evade the attack, and the blade typically does not touch an opponent’s saber, or only deflects it with glancing contact or “soft” parries or slides.

When “hard” blocks are needed, the back of the saber is used when possible, or the thicker part of the blade near the hand guard is used. While edge to edge contact is avoided when possible, sometimes it will accidentally happen when attacking with a powerful chop or slash and the momentum of one’s saber cannot be changed to avoid a block from an opponent’s weapon edge.

The momentum of a powerfully swung saber is something that needs to be considered. Fortunately the dull back of the saber allows for several techniques that can be used for control since the non-weapon arm or the body can contact this non-sharp edge. Wrapping and coiling around the head (缠头裹脑 chan tou guo nao) as well as wrapping the body (裹身 guo shen) and “washing” with the saber (洗刀 xi dao) are characteristic movements that can control the momentum of the saber and change directions. One movement should flow into the next.

While the momentum from a powerful sweeping or slashing attack can carry one’s saber to the side and away from an engagement with an opponent, the techniques that bring the saber around the body can bring the saber back into a defensive or offensive position. Additionally, the wielder can spin around after slashing in order to manage the momentum of the saber and to bring it back into action.
These are characteristic ways used to control the momentum of powerful saber techniques. There are other methods which are also used that are beyond the scope of this short article using verbal descriptions, like leading with the pommel into a chop (producing significant forward momentum rather than mainly downward momentum from the chop), etc.

While some schools do not contact the body while performing these movements, practitioners who do contact the body will find that the momentum of the weapon can be controlled by doing so. The momentum in one direction can be stopped by letting the dull back edge contact the body; or power can be added to the technique by using the arm or body for leverage to spring the saber off of, or to push against the dull back edge. Pushing the back edge with the non-weapon hand or arm also allows one to quickly change the saber from a defensive blocking action into an action that angles the tip toward an opponent for counterattacking.

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Sword (劍 jian, double-edged straight sword) is perhaps the most popular weapon in Taijiquan (太極拳) practice, even though it is more difficult to use properly than the saber (刀 dao, sometimes called a “broadsword” and refers to the single edged sword), the other classical short weapon. This may be due to the circularity inherent in the way the jian is supposed to be used, like a flying phoenix or like a swimming dragon (both of which are said to move in spirals).

While made of metal, the jian has the quality of water when associated with the wuxing (五行 five phases), whereas the dao is associated with metal. The dao is more direct and uses many powerful techniques, whereas the jian is more fluid and yielding, and is more subtle and uses more agility and precision than the dao’s techniques (i.e., more finesse than power). The jian is said to be the “king” of short weapons, and is considered to be a master’s or gentleman’s weapon.

Unfortunately, many of the practice jian manufactured today have greatly altered characteristics from historic weapons, in order to make them easier to use in solo performance, resulting in modern swords that are typically handled improperly when compared to how historically accurate weapons are handled.

Historic swords needed a sufficient mass (typically 600-900 grams) to resist easy defensive deflections away from the intended target, and the point of balance needed to be far enough out beyond the handle and hand guard (typically 6-8 inches beyond where the handle meets the guard) to facilitate pivoting the weapon around an opponent’s weapon, as well as to resist deflections and help the sword to remain on target. The mass and point of balance of historic swords also helps one to properly control the opponent’s weapon when utilizing deflections and other techniques that occur when weapons contact each other.

Conversely for performance, with no consideration for combat functionality, one would want a sword that is as light as possible and with a point of balance closer to the hand. This would make the sword-like object easier (and faster) to move and would be able to be manipulated in a dramatic fashion with a mere flick of one’s wrist. These characteristics produced the floppy-bladed wushu (武术) performance jian that got so extreme that competition rules had to be made requiring the blade to be able to support the weight of the jian when balanced on its tip.

Unfortunately, the way that manufacturers met this requirement was to merely stiffen the spine of the blade without adding significant weight to the jian. These revised performance jian appear less comical, but the performers did not need to alter their habitual ways of handling the jian. The jian were used merely as stage props that allowed quick and flashy movements that looked impressive, but were without realistic function and would be wrong in combat. Wushu swordsmanship became merely dancing with stage props, however flashy and impressive that dancing was.

Training with unrealistic weapons generally leads to unrealistic movements for controlling the actions of the jian, and typically leads to a misunderstanding of the characteristics of the weapon and the movements and purpose of one’s forms.

A jian should have four points that one pivots around; the tip, at points about one third and about two thirds of the length of the blade, and the hand/wrist/root of the sword blade. Only the last is facilitated by a balance point close to the guard, but at the expense of the other three.

Pivoting around the tip is often used to maintain the weapon pointing towards the opponent while changing the angle of the potential attack. Pivoting around the point about a third of the blade length from the tip is often used to change from a thrust with the tip to a cut with the end third of the blade, as well as situations where light contact with the opponent’s weapon is used in order to exploit an opening to attack through. Pivoting around the point about two thirds of the blade length from the tip of the blade is frequently used when deflecting and controlling an opponent’s attack, and setting up a counterattack.

The pivot at the hand/wrist/blade root is where most of the potential problems occur, and is often where those using unrealistically light jian tend to move the most. Too often those using a light weapon flip their wrist around like they are using a flywhisk!

We do not want too firm of a grip such that the sword becomes primarily just an extension of the forearm (like when using a club or a bat), but we also do not want a too loose grip where the sword can be easily knocked off target or even knocked out of one’s grip. We want a mobile “joint” that is neither excessive nor deficient.

Different schools have slightly different recommendations regarding gripping the sword, but most have the thumb and index and/or middle fingers doing most of the gripping, with the ring and little fingers mainly aiding in controlling and directing the sword. The sword’s handle should be movable enough in one’s grip that it can break contact with the palm and/or heel of the hand, but one should still maintain sufficient control of the handle that an opponent cannot adversely affect one’s grip just by bumping into your sword.

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