Tai Chi With Attitude

MORE CLIPS - FU STYLE AND YES! A CHEN FAN FORM (FINALLY!)

2007-01-17T15:13:00.000-08:00

This first clip is of my sifu, Dr. Johnny Jang, at De Anza college a few years back. He's doing the 36 Fu Style Tai Chi form. Note that it seems to be more flowery than most, but the differential is, is that it combines Yang Style Taiji with Pa Kua Zhang movements. It's exceptionally more difficult to do. I've won a medal or two with this form.

Here's something completely different: a Chen fan form!

It used to be, there was no such creature. As of this writing, the only place I can find that sells this VCD, is a company in Hong Kong (on eBay). The lady's name is Ma Chunxi. It's exceptionally good. It combines movements from Chen forms one and two, with some of the jian (sword) moves. I'm teaching it to myself, and it is very hard, even with my background.

And yes, I find it odd that of all the styles, Chen never developed a fan form, common as the fan is in China (and how beastly hot it gets over there, to boot!).

Once I absorb it, and practice it often enough, it gives me an excuse to get out my metal fan that I bought, a few years back. I was going to learn a Pa Kua fan form, but it got put on the backburner. Not to mention that the metal fan is much heavier, and harder on the wrist than a standard fan.

Watch, enjoy, ponder, ask if you have a question or two.

And good playing to you all.

MA HONG ON YOUTUBE

2006-12-23T22:38:00.000-08:00

My sifu, Dr. Johnny Jang, greatly admires Ma Hong, and has adopted many of his smaller movements (in the following clip for instance, Ma Hong adds a sliding step to the hidden punch movement).
This was taped (as I understand it) while the man was in his 70's. He still goes very deeply into his stances.

Here is a great interview with the Hsing-i magazine, also featuring George Xu. For those of you unfamiliar with George, he's a no-nonsense martial artist, who made his reputation fighting in the mean streets of Shanghai. Short version: he's definitely NOT a paper tiger. And if George backs up a martial artist, that guy had better be DAMN good. Ma Hong was the first artist that George brought over to the US.
I've heard a tale or two about Ma Hong: he's a very humble fellow, but if you talk smack about his art? He's been known to call people out.

Anyways, watch, enjoy, study.

FUNCTION FOLLOWS FORM, FORM FOLLOWS FUNCTION

2006-12-05T16:43:00.000-08:00

My apologies to anyone, for not having updated this blog in many a moon. It’s been very busy for me lately.

One of the ongoing issues for many Tai Chi players is that of keeping the routine fresh. While it is by far much more entertaining than the treadmills we see in the gyms (the image of guinea pigs on an exercise wheel pops into mind), a year or more of doing the same routine over time can become a tad too routine, and so, the player is encouraged to do some experimentation.

(NOTE: it is perhaps best for the player to have a very firm foundation in the basics and principles, and to have been doing their routine for at least a year – this is advice only.)

Some items to spice up your routine:
A. Practice with your eyes closed. This is far more difficult than it seems. Once you get to what I refer to as a ‘kick’ section (i.e., Separate Left Foot, Separate Right Foot, Rooster Stands on One Leg, etc.), you will likely find that your balance isn’t QUITE as good as you’d thought.
B. Practice in your head. While this is one of those ‘mystical’ levels (Cheng Man-Ching was rumored to have reached it: the story Ben Lo told, was that as they went up a tall hill for practice, Ben did his, asked the Professor if he was going to do likewise, to which the Professor responded: “I already did.”), it is an interesting exercise. When learning the Chen style, I’d lie in bed and close my eyes, and do the 24 or 37 movement form. Amusingly enough, each time I came to Hidden Punch, my body would try to respond by throwing a punch, roughly corresponding to a myoclonic twitch – “Myoclonus also occurs normally, as a person falls asleep or while sleeping. This type of myoclonus is not associated with disease.”
D. Deepen your stance. This is definitely a leg-burning sweat-inducer.
E. Learn a new form.

As to this final item, I admit freely: I’m a bit ‘forms crazy’. I originally did the 37-movement (CMC) form for eight years. I went on to learn; the 24 Yang, the 42 Compulsory (combined), the Chen 24, 36, forms one and two, Fu style 42 and 108, the Yang 108 (I never do this anymore), Chen 56 sword, Chen 18 spear, Chen 36 broadsword. I have since taught myself the Chen 56 form, via a book and youtube.

I recall many years ago, when I was at my five-year mark. I began to branch out a bit, learning Hsing-I from Peter Ralston, some Pa Kua and Kali. I spent nearly a year learning the Yang Long Form from Wilson Ng. After six months or so, I dropped in on Pat Kelly (I would occasionally pop in for a visit). After watching me do the 37 CMC form, her response was: “Your Tai Chi’s improved! I don’t know how you did it, but it has!”

Rich in context, intertwining the mind with the body, Tai Chi is one of the most enriching aspects of one’s life. It has been observed, that exercise is an integral part of any adult’s life: in this case, if you love it, you’ll do it. The other nice feature is that you don’t require a gym – you can take it with you, anywhere you go.

And of course, my favorite maxim is, as always: “Practice, practice, and practice.”

Good playing to you all.

YOUTUBE - BE A VOYEUR!

2006-09-07T13:44:00.000-07:00

One major necessity for the Tai Chi player, is to watch other players, especially high-level practitioners. Sometimes, a question gets answered, sometimes a nuanced mechanism opens a door or a window in the mind, or sometimes, you (or I) are simply doing a movement/posture wrong, and a correction is needed. Or just sometimes, the flow is too fast, or too slow.

I have recently become a fan of www.youtube.com, as it has a lot of great Tai Chi clips.
This first one (as well as the second) is a very old clip of Chen Xiaowang demonstrating a nine minute demo of form one (yilu). It's Laojia (I do Xinjia, I kinda skipped the Laojia phase). When I saw how long it was, I thought maybe I was going way too slow, but the practiced eye will note that some extra repetitive movements have been left out.

This second one is form two (ErLu), about 5 minutes long (this is one that I am DEFINITELY doing too slowly).

SPECIAL NOTE: if you only have dial-up, it's probably not a great idea to view. Upgrade to DSL or Broadband, as it's getting cheaper all the time.

FUNNY, BUT TOO TRUE

2006-08-25T20:37:00.000-07:00

This video from youtube is perhaps the funniest take-off on martial arts I've ever seen.

Sadly, there's many, many pretenders out there. Funny as it is, I can see this actually happening.

SHAKING THE TIP

2006-08-20T11:53:00.000-07:00

SHAKING THE TIP

Whenever I do my weapons routines, I always try to get the tip to shake. This requires concentration and relaxation to do so.

There are two reasons for this:

A. Sifu Jang says that skill is measured by getting soft weapons hard (such as a nine-sectioned whip), and hard weapons soft (as in having the spear seem as if it’s far more flexible).

B. When I was in George Xu’s camp (2002), he told us that the reason for a sword or spear vibrating at the tip was that, in combat, that on entering the opponent’s body, the vibration of the sharp point would do extra damage to the foe’s body. (Yeah, that qualifies as a big fat EEEWWWW!, but it’s martial arts folks: maximum damage).

At this point, I can get some wiggle out of my staff (if it had a spearpoint, I could get far more), and as I do the Chen 56 movement sword, when I thrust, I can get a vibration of about a ½ inch from my jian. Not so much with my saber (broadsword): but the ding! is audible.

Note also, that I don’t practice with those ‘toy swords from Mattel’ (you may know what I mean: those aluminum jobs that weigh about two ounces, and you couldn’t rip paper with the bloody things: I can make THOSE puppies patter like miniature thunder). Both my swords are a few pounds each.

It’s all right to use wooden swords, but it’s most definitely not the same: like the extensible swords, they’re sufficient to practice the movements in the beginning, but if you’re going to start practicing a sword form regularly, do yourself a favor, shell out the extra dollars and get yourself something with more heft and substance.

After all, you get what you pay for, right?

USING THE YANG

2006-07-30T12:21:00.000-07:00

I’m speaking here, of the principle of Yang, not the style.

I’ve spoken before of my adoption of small items, when I do my Chen form. I recall a Ren Guan Yi seminar in Sebastabol, and Sifu Ren did the Double Stomp feet (this is a movement, in the 36, 38, and Form One [YiLu], where the practitioner stands, palms facing down, flips the palms and goes up and stomps one foot after the other, in a boom-BOOM! manuever). It’s hard to describe: I felt vibrations from the ground through my feet, and when Sifu Ren did it, it was as if he exploded his root down into the ground. I found it terribly impressive. My Sifu, Dr. Johnny Jang, demonstrated it once, and his was more like a focussed, thin line of force. I watched Mark Wasson do (I think it was the 38) a form, where he did the Beast Head pose at DeAnza college, on a gym floor, and while I was sitting, I could tell how much power was expended. I watched a Chen Xiaowang video once, and he also did a double stomp (form two, ErLu) on Phoenix Spreads Wings. Dr. Jang taught me to stomp when doing Press the Elbow. Now I do two (Press Elbows), instead of one (which confuses some folks, but I’ve been told that was the traditional way to do it, so I adopted it). I’ve been told I shake the floor now.

Short version: I do a helluva lot more stomping than most people do in Chen. And, yes, I’ve limped away from practice more than once: the right foot absorbs a tremendous amount of force in this. But, when I practice in a park, I can hear the sound travel. It’s not quite gunshot loud, but pretty close. Maybe some day, I’ll be able to crack pavement. Probably never.

At this juncture in my development, my form is very, very Yang. This stems from reading and watching. I recall from the Tao of Tai Chi (a truly wonderful book), that Chen YiLu is supposed to be 80% Yin, 20% Yang, and form two [ErLu] the reverse. However, upon viewing Feng Zhiqiang’s VCD on Form Two, the subtitles state it should be a 60-40 variance. So I adopted this (Master Feng was a student of Chen Fake, while Jou Tsung Hwa was more the experimenter). The results are interesting.

On one occasion, as I practiced in class (Sifu Jang), a fellow student approached me after doing form two, and asked where I’d learned it. I said, “From him.” He told me it looked very different. At the Lake Merrit Bart station, another fellow came and chatted me up. He too, remarked that it was extremely masculine (he also was familiar with Sifu Jang). Told me it was the first time he’d seen someone do it like that. Occasionally, I manage to get to a group class, where everyone’s doing the same form. I’m the only one who seems to make noise: everyone else is nice and soft. The flip side is that whenever I was prevailed upon to lead the practice, by the time I was halfway through with YiLu, the rest of the class had finished it.

Most styles (all, excepting Chen and perhaps Zhaobao) have an extreme emphasis on the Yin methodology; the concept here being that extreme Yin will result in Yang.

There are twofold points to stomping that hard: one is that the player should be careful about it. It CAN injure you. Two, is that the movement is actually used to stimulate the ‘Bubbling Well’ meridian point, located in the middle of the metatarsal ridge of the foot (the Double Stomp Feet is a two-fold rationale: one is to harm the opponent, the other to alleviate a blow to the groin). I have heard that it can be injurious, to not only the ankle/foot, but to the brain stem as well. Thus far, I’ve not suffered any deleterious side effects. But doing any form of exercise improperly for long periods can have implications. So if you stomp, try to do it softly, and build it up after time. Also, make the effort to spread the impact along the length of the foot: don’t just hit your heel or upper sole. This is what causes injury (I can speak to that from experience).

There’s only one place (that I know of) in Fu/Yang style where there’s any sort of noise, and that’s in the posture Sweep the Lotus. In Yang Jwing-Ming’s book, Tai Chi Chuan Martial Applications: Advanced Yang Style, he tells a great story, about this posture. In olden times, it was a game played by martial artists. One literally would sweep the kick through a lotus stem, and if that person could break the reed (it’s simply standing, not held), it was a sign of great internal power. So when I practice the 42 compulsory, the 42 Fu, Fu long form (even when I used to practice the long Yang form), I always try my best to smack my palm with my foot [special note: DON’T swing your hands at the coming foot: the hands need to be stationary, the foot needs to hit THEM. Way harder, ain’t it?]. The Cheng Man-Ching variant doesn’t do this – rather, you very softly brush the toe across the stationary palms (way harder still).

Regardless of your style, Tai Chi is about balance, first and foremost. So there is a time for hardness, a time for softness, a moment of explosive movement, a moment of intense stillness, one second of being the wind, one second of being a rock.

You can live without Tai Chi. But Tai Chi can instruct you in that essential ingredient inherent in all good lives:
Exquisite timing.

SHORT FORMS, LONG FORMS, WHAT'S THE DIFFERENCE?

2006-06-12T15:07:00.000-07:00

There are a great many purists out there, in the world of Tai Chi Chuan. I count myself (nominally) amongst them. However, there are some who stipulate that:
A. Do the form EXACTLY the way that the ancients did, and/or
B. The long form is vastly superior to any short form.

The scope of this article shall endeavor to examine these concepts, and hopefully, put to rest a few qualms.

Firstly: it's nigh well impossible for any newcomer to do the form EXACTLY the way it was practiced a century or more ago. The problem inherent here, is that there are a wide variety of body types: I'm a six-footer, for example. There is no possible way for someone like myself to practice TCC in the exact same manner as someone a foot shorter, or stouter, not to mention a wide diversity in personality types. Your personality will have a profound effect on your practice.
One might note that, as an example, Cheng Man-Ching's senior students all show a markedly different form. Abraham Liu goes into deeper stances: Ben Lo is by far more the traditional purist: William C. C. Chen teaches TCC as a martial art almost straight out of the box (so to speak).

Secondly, this art, like any other fluid, non-static system, is constantly evolving. And let's face it: it's not all that old (at least the Yang/Wu styles).

Thirdly, as one progresses (by 'eating the bitter' as the saying goes), one finds little bits and pieces in other forms (or one's own) that become adopted.

Now to the 'long form/short form' debate.

I was at Ben Lo's TCC camp (1988), when he broached this subject (this is from memory, and so not verbatim): "I have people tell me, 'long form is better than short form', I tell them, 'Tai Chi comes from 13 postures, so how can long form be better?'

While you may derive more health benefits from a long form, the constraints of modern society sometimes make this sort of practice difficult or impossible. Also, one must remember that a long form is a composite of many repetitious movements. It is possible (and very likely) that the practitioner can do ten repetitions of a short form, and derive the same amount of benefits from practice. Personally, I do short forms for warm-up, and practice long forms and weaponry afterwards. But this can very from player to player. The real importance, of course, is the practice and the understanding of the posture. This comes from repetition, true enough.

But practice times are shortened, contingent on the society we live in. So...if you can fit in three short forms a day, spread them out, it can equal one long form done. On in the morning, one at lunch, one in the afternoon.

The other beauty of short forms is this: they give the player more flexibility, in regards to the constraints of space as well as time. It's simpler (and more space-efficient) to do a short form in say a four-by-four space than an entire long form (which CAN be done, with the proper amount of time and training, but avoid this if you're a newcomer).

My original training was in the 37 Cheng Man-Ching short form. After about five years of this, I studied the long form. I began combining both in my practice (there were times, I practiced so intensely, the soles of my feet would swell up). It also provides a sort of variety: do a short form or two in the morning, a long form in the evening. This is up to the player, of course.

So, in short:
A. Don't worry about the EXACT practice of the ancients, and
B. Short form, long form? Don't worry about it.

And I will leave the reader with the three rules:
1. Practice,
2. practice, and
3. practice.

Good playing to you all.

THE POST ABOUT POSTING

2006-05-09T00:23:00.000-07:00

Posting is an integral (or should be, IMO) aspect of training in Tai Chi.

For those of you unfamiliar with this concept, posting (the Chinese word for it escapes me for the nonce) is the practice of hold one specific posture for as long as possible.

This is actually a traditional (or as the young folk like to call it, 'old school!') training method. It was how it was done in the good old days, long, long ago.

Originally, Tai Chi Chuan consisted of thirteen postures. A beginner would be required, over a space of eight or so years, to hold each individual posture, until the master decided that the posture was perfect. NOTE: there was absolutely no movement between them. It was all static training.

It was done this way, for two reasons:

To see if the student had the prerequisite fortitude to learn, and

To test the student's character.

Of course, this changed as Tai Chi was released into the mainstream. Most folks won't stick with something this arduous. Most don't have the requisite attention spans. Yang Cheng Fu actually modified the form (subtracting the fa ching and jumping movements), and changed the required posting training to include movement. His intention was to strengthen his nation's populace by improving their health.

Static training is a common staple amongst most martial arts. External arts such as Shaolin, Karate, TKD usually have one posture (often the traditional horse stance) that they hold for X amount of hours. Tai Chi emphasizes this more than most MA's. My first five years of training consisted of the entire class holding a posture, while the instructor went about making corrections. Then moving to the next posture, and correcting that pose.

As a side note: there are two equally valid ways to teach Tai Chi. The first has been mentioned. The second, is to teach the entire set of movements, and then fine-tune them.

There's a number of good reasons to do the posting. One, is that the body memory (read: the muscle memory) will take an imprint, and learn it. Two, is that it gives the player/practitioner time to start going over principles while holding said posture. Three, is that (via #1) it teaches the player what the movement should feel like. This third is essential, inasmuch as most newbies tend to rush from one posture to another without ending a movement. Let me clarify that a little more: the posture needs to end, but the movement DOES NOT. In other words: End <> stop. Define each movement. At one point, one pose ends, and another begins. But the movement of the body doesn't end until the form is completed.

Another good reason to post (the irony of this subject being posted on a blog is not lost on me), is that you build up a substantial sweat doing this. Not to mention the rewards: the body's meridians blossom like flowers, and the energy flow experienced while doing this is almost indescribable. But you have to hold it for a substantial amount of time, not 30 seconds, try 30 minutes, if you can pull that off. Shoot for 5 at first, and build upwards. And always, ALWAYS check your principles. While holding the posture, check your back, keep your headtop suspended, make sure your knees are aligned (never over the tip of the toe), and of course, fang shung, or relax.

Often, I teach classes where I will do the corrections, and then launch into one of my patented mini-lectures. In the meantime, people drop out of the pose, reassume it, sweating profusely. I hear students complain about their legs burning. I then recite one of Ben Lo's favorite refrains: "No burn? No earn!"

Because, as the old Tai Chi saying goes, "Eat the bitter." Or better yet: invest in loss. In other words, it's a hard road, filled with long hours, and the player will have to invest heavily in delayed gratification. But the rewards? Trust me: the effort is well worth it.

WILL THE REAL TAI CHI PLEASE STAND UP?

2006-04-25T15:40:00.000-07:00

We live in the age of novelty, and reinvention. In some ways, this is a good thing, because creativity is an essential part of being human, the play instinct, the novel approach, the unique perspective.
This isn't ALWAYS a good thing. Balance should be used as some sort of yardstick.

Here's a perfect example of how NOT to modify a system.

There is, and I kid you not, a 'Cardio' Tai Chi, slapped together as some sort of makeshift Tae Bo, where the practitioners actually JUMP UP AND DOWN in some sort of ridiculous hand form, where the 'players' assume one pose, jump up, re-assume next pose, and so on.

In the words of Bart Simpson: "Aye Caramba!"

This system was put together by one Dr. Weng. I studied under him for two months, but was unimpressed with his Chang style Tai Chi. In a nutshell, Chang style TCC is a combination of shuai-chiao (Chinese wrestling) and TCC. There was far too much 'smack talking' for my taste, in short. This was some time ago, and perhaps the methodology is improved somewhat.

Dr. Weng learned shuai-chiao from master Chang Tung-sheng, who was also something of an expert in Hsing-I, Pa Kua, Shaolin, and a few other arts. Chang Tung-sheng is also mentioned in Robert W. Smith's Chinese Boxing: Masters and Methods.

Be that as it may, this is a common criticism of TCC as a form of exercise or martial art. 'It's too slow', or 'how can that even be CALLED an exercise', etc.

There already is an aerobic version of TCC. It's been around a while. It's called Chen Tai Chi. While other styles are anaerobic in nature, due to their soft, slow natures, Chen is punctuated by sudden, explosive movements (fa ching), and performance of the Yi Lu and Er Lu (forms one and two, form two also known as Pao Chui, or the Cannon Fist)forms are most definitely aerobic in nature. Combined with deep (broken horse) stances, and some jumping (Pao Chui), it's a great exercise, and it takes time before one is no longer winded at completion.

Now, some modification will occur in the process of learning. That's a given. We can see variances, for instance, in the Cheng Man-Ching methodology just by observing Cheng's senior students. Ben Lo is extremely strict about adherence. Abraham Liu is noted as going far deeper into his stances than most, and favors the Long Form. William C. C. Chen is notable as teaching TCC in a martial sense, straight out of the box.

Another great example is Wu Ch'uan-yü who, according to answers.com:
" (???, 1834-1902) started studying the martial art of T'ai Chi Ch'uan in his capacity as an officer cadet of the Palace Battalion of the Ch'ing dynasty's élite Imperial Guards Brigade under Yang Lu-ch'an in 1850. He eventually became the senior disciple of Yang's son, Yang Pan-hou, and was given permission by the Yangs to teach his own students in 1870."
As noted in the link given above:
"The Wu style's distinctive hand form, pushing hands and weapons trainings emphasise parallel footwork and horse stance training with the feet relatively closer together than the modern Yang or Ch'en styles, small circle hand techniques (although large circle techniques are trained as well) and differs from the other T'ai Chi family styles martially with Wu style's initial focus on grappling, throws, wrestling and other groundfighting technique; tumbling, jumping, footsweeps, pressure point leverage and joint locks and breaks, which are trained in addition to more conventional T'ai Chi sparring and fencing at advanced levels. Although historically derived from the Yang style, the Wu style has a unique appearance to observers and seems to share some features with Sun style, due to the long collaboration between Wu Chien-ch'üan and Sun Lu-t'ang. Another significant feature of Wu style training is its routinely placing the body's weight 100% on the yang or full leg, 0% on the yin or empty leg in forms and pushing hands, and maintaining a straight line of the spine from the top of the head to the heel of the rear foot when it is at an angle to the ground; an "inclined plane" alignment intended to extend the practitioner's reach. Other styles of T'ai Chi (with a few notable exceptions) train this leaning occasionally in their forms and pushing hands, but not as systematically as the Wu style does."

Or the Fu system:

"When Grandmaster Fu Zhen Song was young, he first learned Chen Tai Chi Chuan from the Chen Jia-Guo Village with Chen, Yan-Si (also known as Chen Hui-Jie). Chen was the 8th generation of the Chen Style Tai Chi. Fu is also the 3rd generation of the bagua zhang creator, Dong, Hai-Chuan. Later, he met the Sun Style Tai Chi Grandmaster Sun, Lu-Tang and the Yang Style Tai Chi Grandmaster Yang, Cheng-Fu. They became very close friends and exchanged tai chi, bagua, xing-yi, and weapons. With this valuable knowledge and achievements, Fu had progressed to the next highest level of internal martial arts.

In the 1920's, Fu created Fu Style Tai Chi Chuan. He started with the Yang Style Tai Chi Chuan as a basic foundation, then added Chen Style Tai Chi Chuan and Sun Tai Chi Chuan along with bagua zhang. Fu used the elite forms of the Yang Style Tai Chi, Chen Style Tai Chi, Sun Style Tai Chi, and bagua zhang to created Fu Style Tai Chi Chuan."

Note that while in all of these systems, a great deal of modification was implemented, these folks had oodles of martial arts backgrounds. Most of them were reknowned fighters, and actually sat down and learned the fundamentals, had the basics burned into their systems before they even considered making modifications.

Unfortunately, in this day and age, we have people who have eclectic backgrounds, little grounding in basics, playing mix 'n match because of course the in thing to do is to invent or whip up some new system after a year's worth of lessons, further diluting the art to the pedigree of being a mongrel, in an effort to appeal to novelty, thereby currying new students.

Mind you, I'm not a fanatical purist: everything evolves, whether it's the human, the art, the technology. BUT: before you start slapping in your own retrofits, get some solid grounding, no, let's skip that, some solid embodiment of the principles, burning them into your neural pathways for years, not months, before you start taking the art, and retrofitting it to suit your purposes.

This isn't to say: don't pick up various ways of doing a movement. I've incorporated movements from Ren Guan Yi, Chen Xiaowong (Ren does this fa ching movement, the small circle, in Warrior pounds pavement, that I've incorporated: I've also incorporated the simultaneous stomp in Pao Chui at Beast's Head pose from Xiaowong), even though I wasn't taught that way. These are tiny adaptations, gleaned from recognized masters.

Here's a for instance: I have seen a picture of William C. C. Chen doing what seems to be 'Snake Creeps Down': he's not squatting down on the back leg, if I saw a beginner doing it like that, well, we'd be going over that stance until your legs were screaming for rest.

Because, unlike you and I, he's earned the ability to do it any way he pleases. He's put in the time, the effort, the decades of pain, of embodiment. He's so far beyond you and I, he gets a free pass. He embodies the principles: they're now hard-wired into his system.

So, in short, you want to modify the form? Fine. Put in thirty years of hard work, dedication, 'no burn, no earn' as Ben Lo likes to say, practice constantly (6-7 days a week). Then you can start modifying the art, putting in your personal touches, retrofitting it, etc. Or you have an extensive background in other internal arts (like Sun Lu-tang, who was fifty before he learned TCC, but was a recognized master of Hsing I and Pa Kua), or at least 2 or more decades of knowledge in other martial arts.

But please, please, don't take a few lessons in one art, a few lessons in another, and create some Jambalaya Judo mongrel martial art simply because you're bored, or want to make a few extra bucks, or want to impress your friends.

Because that, my friends, dilutes the efforts of the geniuses who went before, and is the equivalent (in my opinion) of wiping your feet on the shoulders of giants.

PRINCIPLES

2006-04-18T17:02:00.000-07:00

There are principles in Tai Chi Chuan, which are numerous and somewhat difficult.

Here is a good link, that summarizes the principles in question.

Now comes the hard part:
How can you use ALL the principles in question (the ten listed) in the link provided?
The short answer: if you're a beginner, you can't. But don't despair.

If your instructor has taught you some movements, and you can remember them (and even if you can't), take just one principle, and try to work that in with your practice. For instance, when I was in China in 2003, and the tour and I were in training, Chen Xiaoxing pointed out that we were all leaning forward too much. Upon reviewing my DV tape, sure enough, we were all tilting forward FAR too much. Agh! So do this: practice whatever you've learned with a book on your head. Remember the 'charm school' that ladies went to, back in the day? Women were taught to walk around with a book on their heads. Why? Proper posture, is why. Try doing your movements as if you're being suspended from a thread from the ceiling.

Once you stand straight up, instead of leaning back or forward, your balance improves measurably.

And remember this: Fang kua, fang huo (relax the hips, relax the waist).

In this day and age of compartmentalization, we tend to use one part of our bodies to do something, rather than the whole. Some movements require it: you can't very well use your whole body to type at a computer, or drive a car (well you COULD, on the latter, but you may get pulled over). But in the simple act of opening a door, use your entire body to swing it open, not just your arm. Try using your whole body to perform mundane tasks. Just be careful at first.

Try not to stand flat-footed: agility is paramount, and 50-50 weight on both feet is anything but agile. Breathe through the nose, and direct your inhalation to the diaphragm (not so surprisingly, men have more problems with this than women, unless they're singers, actors, pro athletes). NOTE: when breathing, touch the tip of the tongue to the roof of the mouth (right behind that little knob before your upper teeth). This connects two meridian belts, the Ren Ming and the Du Meridian (strangely enough, one ends at the tip of the tongue, the other at the rooftop of the mouth). Plus, breathing through the nose soaks the membranes with oxygen.

Tuck the coccyx under, just a little, straightening the back.

Keep your elbows DOWN. Fingers are kept together, unless otherwise instructed.

Again, don't despair. You won't be able to do ALL of them. Pick a principle, any principle: stick to it for a week, a month. Choose one that your instructor criticizes you on regularly, or one you happen to think is your weakest. Once you've worn it into the ground, pick another.

Any questions?

Tai Chi - Yes, it IS a Martial Art

2006-04-11T10:58:00.000-07:00

I've run into this attitude on the web (most folks are too polite to say it to your face I'm still waiting for someone to make the comment): Tai Chi? Martial Art? You must be JOKING!

No, I am not.

There are a number of factors, where observing the art might deceive the casual observer, into thinking its anything but a martial art.

To which I reply, Frontis nulla fides: in appearances, put no faith.

The major misconception is simply in the watching of Tai Chi Chuan. The usual responses are fairly pat: A martial art in slow motion? How is that even exercise? Look, I can do that! It's easy!(The last is usually followed by a very, VERY poor imitation of one move, quick dismissal).

Thanks to TV, and movies (The Matrix, Jet Lee, Jackie Chan, etc.) where the hero does all these acrobatic, flashy moves that would result, in real life, in the hero being wheeled out on a gurney (from a fall, an interruption in tempo from a skilled foe, hell, getting booted in mid-flip: I can say honestly that every bozo whos ever tried to kick me in the head landed on his ass).

We also require instant results from a minimum of effort. Thats a large enough subject to be the scope of another article.

And also: faster is most emphatically NOT better. In many things.

Tai Chi Chuan originated in Chenjiagou (Chen village). It was/is a farming village. It was also a strategic military point. Ergo, many armies have trod down its streets. A little known fact is that young Shaolinmonks would be sent there (the Temple and the village are in the same province) to test their martial skills. The origins of TCC are shrouded in mystery, so I defer to the written documentation: Chen Tai Chi was founded by Chen Wangting (see here) in the 1600s. Wangting was a general, well versed in the martial arts, and incorporated many internal principles into his familys fighting methods.

There is an old Chinese adage: Tai Chi, ten years in the studio Hsing-I, one year, kill a man.

Also, in this country, we have such a wide diversity of applications vis-à-vis this wonderful art; its rapidly being watered down. Between the New Age movement, folks completely draining the art of its martial aspects (Tai Chi Chih), people with no formal training whatsoever taking teaching jobs in this art, the lack of standardization (this is everywhere, unfortunately), instructors telling their students theyre doing a WONDERFUL job (hey, any way you do it is perfect! Just keep practicing), well, dilution of this wonderful art is no surprise, sadly.

It can be used as a martial art. It takes time and effort, however. A lot of practice. Like everyday. Its said that ten minutes a day is sufficient for health. Martial arts? Do a long form 6-7 times a day. Enlightenment? At least 10 long forms a day (double the amount if you do a short form).

What most folks don't see, are the push-hands exercises, the Da Liu moving Tui Shou (a moving push hands set), the instruction of self-defense techniques, etc. See if you can find someone doing Chen style: the stances are deeper, more explosive movements (yes, it is indeed influenced by Shaolin, as mentioned before), it teaches a wide variety of techniques, including Chin-na (joint locking), throwing the opponent, and whats known as sealing the breath.

I will leave you with an old saying in Tai Chi: "In practice, you should be like a lady dancing, in combat be like a fierce tiger."

TAI CHI CHUAN AND SELF-DEFENSE

2006-04-05T13:01:00.000-07:00

This is one of those topics that bears translation.

When self defense is mentioned, the automatic assumption made is one of battling one (or more) malevolent attackers with lightning fast kicks and punches (sometimes punctuated by some delusory Matrix/ThunderballZ levitational/magical movement: thanks, Hollyweird!).

Fact of the matter is: the one negative issue here, is that it takes some time before an individual can use TCC as a form of self-defense. Unless you have some real-time training in another martial art prior to practicing. That being said, here's a couple of pieces of advice for the ladies:

First, invest some time in BAMM training, or Krav Maga, or something equivalent, and

Second, I repeat the advice Bruce Lee gave on women's self defense: "If attacked, stomp on his foot, kick him in the shin, the knee, the groin, hit him in the solar plexis, the throat, gouge his eyes and slap him over the ears. After all this, run like hell." (paraphrased).

That having been said, I still say TCC is a viable tool for self defense. For instance: stress greatly impacts our reflexes. How so? Well, since we have an inborn fight-or-flight syndrome burnt into our neural pathways, being as we live in a civilized society, we are forced not to employ our natural responses. If my boss yells at me, I can't very well fight or flee, can I? I could, but it would probably have a negative impact on my job. So we suppress our instinct, to conform to society. It then becomes an artificially-induced response: when we see a ball coming at us, or drop something of value, the first reaction is to think about it: the second, to formulate. By then, the ball hits us, or the china shatters. Usually, what I term the 'flinch reflex' kicks in. We jump (automatic repression of response), we think, we fumble. TCC (or any MA worth its salt, for that matter) teaches us to respond, and respond appropriately.

And self defense isn't neccessarily combat: the car zooming in on us in the crosswalk: we do the three responses ingrained, and guess the result. Likewise, the falling china: a simple response, rather than jump, think, fumble will likely save the dish from shattering. The falling box, the heavy mailing tube leaning and falling on us, can be responded to as well.

And sometimes, the best response is to stand still, allowing the antagonistic movement to sweep past. Or to move an inch, instead of a foot.

Which is one reason TCC is done in slo-mo: it relaxes us.

I recall an episode from the TV series Kung Fu (no, the old one, from the 80's): deputy is some young guy, carrying on about Kwai Chang Caine, working himself up in a lather, talking to the sheriff inside the county jail. The sheriff is an older, laconic fellow, leaning back in a chair, boots up on the desk. He advises the younger fellow: "You should learn to relax." The deputy slaps gun leather. The sheriff has his gun out. "Helps your reflexes," drawls the sheriff.

So, in short, avoid jump-think-fumble (JTF). Simply respond. More likely as not, the natural response will be the appropriate one.

ANECDOTES

2006-03-30T17:39:00.000-08:00

When I first began training in TCC (1986), I began hanging around with a fellow, who did Iron Palm, Praying Mantis, bone-hardening exercises (I kid you not: I saw this guy demonstrate this one day, pounding his shins and forearms against a good sized tree, pounding away at it with enough power to shake the bloody thing). Sparring with him was, well, out of the ordinary. My first training was in karate: so when I’d block his blows, it was like hitting my arms with an iron bar.
We began training together. I learned (the hard way!) not to counter force with force: it was painful. One night, he said to me: “Let me show you something.” (Note: this was after many months of hard-core training in TCC.) He launched a barrage of blows, which I simply tapped all aside.
“Hmmm,” he said. “Maybe you should stick to Tai Chi.”
About a year into our friendship, and impromptu training sessions (he worked at a vacuum-cleaner store), he was giving a primer for this young fellow who was going to train with his sifu. While the two of them were bouncing around, flipping over, doing whatever external stylists do, I simply practiced my TCC form 3 or 4 times. I’d started doing Tui Shou (Push hands) some months before.
After the 3 of us had finished, my friend made a remark: “At least we broke a sweat.” “What I love about Tai Chi,” I told them, “is that all it takes is a small push,” I stepped in, barely touched my friend, and off he sailed, into a group of vacuum-cleaners 3 yards away in a corner, sprawling. “Are you okay?” I asked, startled. “I’m fine,” he replied. All was cool. But I never heard that remark again.

I’m very, very careful now, not to push someone playfully. They tend to go sailing, or are propelled at least 3 or 4 yards away.

Years later, I was training with an instructor. Again: “Let me show you something.” Shower of blows. I deflected them all.

Somewhere within that timeframe, I was living in Livermore, and this lady I knew (semi-acquaintance) was visiting one of my roommates. She’d gained some weight, and I made one of my famous cracks. She immediately jumped up, and attempted to slap the crap out of me. I used Cloud Hands, tapping each one aside, laughing all the while. After a couple of minutes, she gave up in disgust.

Once, I was helping my mother’s boss move some furniture. They had a Tacoma truck, with one of those Leer shells. The shell door was up, I was bent over the tail, down came the door. Without even knowing what was happening, I simply moved my upper body horizontally away and up, the door missing me completely.

One night, walking down Amador Valley Parkway in Dublin, past the Jack in the Box, I began to move in a circular manner, thinking to myself, “What the hell…?” Once I completed the intricate pirouette, I looked down. Someone had torn a sprinkler pipe in the bushes from its mooring, and pulled it out so most folks would either trip on it, or bark their shins.

One night, at a friend’s house, I was talking to a married couple. The guy had been training in TKD. His wife was seated. He launched into an attack (kicks and punches? I think so). I stepped to one side, and touched him ever so slightly. The result? Hysterical. He sprawled all over his seated wife, who hollered at him about it as they tangled up.

Once, a gal I worked with at a mini-mart, saw me walk in, yelled my name, came at me in a straight line fists pumping (she was a large woman, and more than a little odd). I closed my eyes, shifted my weight into my back leg, turned ever so slightly, and moved her with my finger. When I opened my eyes, she was standing off to my right, deflected elsewhere, and facing away from me. “Wow, you must do karate or something!”

Once, a friend of mine with a drinking problem, got a little too rowdy. He wanted me to demonstrate push hands. I tried, he got way out of hand. Small guy, too. I must’ve bounced him off the wall a dozen times. His poor beleaguered mom kept picking up the pictures that were knocked onto the floor as I apologized profusely.

I sparred this one young fellow in Livermore. This cat, I kid you not, could leap up in the air, sailing horizontally, doing what’s called a Butterfly kick, his aerials were something to behold. We almost clinched; I sent him sprawling 4-5 yards away.

After about 5 years into TCC, I began to shop around a little. I went to a famous instructor in Berkeley. I didn’t tell anyone I’d ever done TCC. The first week, we did Tui Shou. Now, I’d been doing fixed-step push hands all this while: this teacher told us to step into the push. I was paired off with this one fellow, a few inches shorter than me, but far wider and more muscular. Each time I stepped into the push, he bounced off a wall. Got a lot of strange looks at that, you betcha. Some months later, I was asked (rather, told) that I’d had prior training, to which I agreed.

At the Berkeley kwoon, one night an apprentice and I were practicing, he kept trying to throw me, but my root was too strong: he actually YELLED at me to fall down. Another night, we were doing some Pa Kua exercises with the Tui Shou: my partner was a smaller fellow; he literally ROLLED across my right arm to my left. Got into it with this young chap one day, same place. Fella claimed he was a Hapkido Black Belt. We were doing an exercise that specifically called for a reactive response: instead, he kept trying this one technique, over and over again. I explained to him that’s not what we were supposed to do. He ignored me, kept doing it. I lost my temper (perhaps), or we got into it: next thing I know, we’re on the floor; I have the scissors hold (both my hands trapping one arm, both legs trapping the other) on him.

Couple of years ago, I was napping on the BART, on my way home from work. The person seated next to me barely brushed my duster jacket, and I snapped awake.

PRACTICING IN PUBLIC PARKS: TAI CHI IN THE REAL WORLD

2006-03-29T12:34:00.000-08:00

It is a common enough sight in this day and age: elderly Chinese people practicing Tai Chi, Qigong, and occasionally other Asian martial arts in a public park.
This article is a general guideline to the do’s and don’ts that apply to doing your form in public. The reader will find there are only a few don’ts, and the dos are fairly common sense. I will elaborate based on my own experiences, both positive and negative, in respect to this.

Dos:

1. Practice with groups, if you can.I practice a full set of every form I do. This consists of the 24 Yang, the 37 Cheng Man Ching form, the 42 Compulsory, the 42 Fu, the Chen forms 1 and 2 (Xin Jia New Frame), a 108 Fu style, the Chen spear, broadsword and sword. Ergo, unless I go to the Lake Merrit Bart station in Oakland, CA., I am going to have issues finding people who do these sets. Groups are a good thing: they give you a sense of flow and interaction. Also, there is strength in numbers: see DON’T # 2.

2. Practice by yourself.It is very common for everyone, at first: you feel your form is not very good, you’re self-conscious, people will stop and stare, make comments (good and bad), etc. The best advice here is: just get over it. There are numerous reasons for this. When I first started teaching, it was at a college in S.F that had been converted over from a Greyhound Bus hangar. Ergo, it was huge, and the area I taught in was towards the back, and anyone entering the school could very clearly see (albeit from a distance) myself and any other students learning, practicing, etc. I was very self-conscious at the start, but one gets used to this sort of thing. First and foremost, you are practicing an art form, and while you should be practicing it primarily for your own personal advancement, art that goes unseen becomes less an art than that of self-illusion and self-aggrandizement. People need to see you in order to appreciate the amount of work and sacrifice that you’ve put into your chosen hobby/path. Secondly, if you are easily distracted by the presence of other people, their watching, commenting, etc., then your focus and concentration is not very good. I have practiced many times at the Lake Merrit Bart when the Lion Dancers are pounding away on drums. It helps keep me focused. Alternately, when you are competing in a tournament, there is always a certain amount of background noise that accompanies the competition, inasmuch as there are usually several events taking place simultaneously. Thirdly, it is far too easy to bail out on practice simply because you have no one to practice with. Practicing by yourself, and sticking to it, will not only help you improve, it will eliminate yet one more excuse you can give yourself. Fourthly, it exposes you to a public view, and you may very well meet other people who are interested, and/or are practitioners as well.

3. Environment.It has been observed (in writing), that the best place is in a park. Why is this? Surrounded by trees (extra oxygen), and the removal of that 60 Megahertz buzz that accompanies us in most cities lends to an Alpha-like state that aids the practitioner in his/her practice. I have discovered a number of suitable areas where I live. The normal advice is this: find somewhere removed from society at large (in re: pollution, you don’t want to inhale car exhaust, do you?), surrounded by trees (optimally: but grassy areas are fine), away from windy, wet environments (this becomes difficult, especially in the multiple micro-climatic areas of the S.F Bay area), away from excessive noise (again, difficult occasionally, as you are in a public park, and are in a position of sharing it w/humanity). It whittles down to this: quietude.

Don’ts:
Bear in mind, these are rules of thumb, only.

1. Things to avoid before and after practice:

Eating
Smoking
Drinking alcohol
Sex.

These, again, are only general guidelines. Bear in mind that Tai Chi (and some qigong) are Taoist practices, and because we are human (and some of us have very little time on our hands as is), none of these are written in stone. For instance, the 4 items listed above are generally to be avoided an hour before, or an hour after. At one juncture in my life, I held 2 jobs, and went to school fulltime as well. But I still made the time to practice at least 10 minutes a day. So I had little choice but to come home, devour something right before bed, and practice. Eating immediately before or after any workout is generally advised against. The sexual advice applies primarily to men, as men are supposed to refine their jing (essence), and women are supposed to nourish the blood. Alcohol and tobacco are bad ideas, since Tai Chi and qigong open up circulation, lungs, meridian points, etc. Again, your humanity comes first.

2. Practicing in the afternoon.Now, this seems silly at the onset, because A. it’s recommended to practice Tai Chi or qigong at dawn and dusk (human light cycles), and B. it has been observed that afternoons are when your body is actually more stretched and limber. But this is primarily focused on the neighborhood/area of your park. Originally, I was a late riser, not given to mornings. I read somewhere that Traditional Chinese Medicine considers oversleeping a sign of a corrupted spirit. This was also coupled with some negative experiences. Once, while I was at a Hayward park, I was practicing my form, someone began yelling about “You think you’re so cool, doing that crap! You better leave,” called me names, threatened me, etc. For a while, I would go down to the San Leandro Marina and practice in the afternoons, and encountered similar situations, where some teenagers let the testosterone do the talking. One incident occurred where I was doing a long form, and 2 women w/a child, pushing a stroller, began to make loud, stupid comments. They had a camcorder, and began to film their foolish efforts at belittling me (and probably sent it off to America’s funniest home videos, thinking themselves utterly hysterical, when in fact they were just showing how ignorant and unfunny they truly were). I ignored them, and it was a minor annoyance, which didn’t interrupt my form’s flow. As of this writing, no one has tried to lay hands on me. Bear in mind, I am a middle-aged, well-sized white male, which makes this an Alpha Wolf issue. Women are less likely to encounter a ‘kick school’ mentality, as females are by far more sensible than males in this regard (depending on the neighborhood, of course). I spoke to my Sifu, Dr. Johnny Jang, one day, in this regard, and he stated that he’d had one issue about this in over 30 years of teaching. Of course, most of the idiots who would do this sort of nonsense probably figure it’s a bad idea, since the stereotype of the deadly Asian pervades America. (This is not always true: I have heard a story of a famous Tai Chi player who had to stop practicing in Washington Square in S.F, because many street people would come up and start fights with him; so it varies demographically). However, getting up early in the morning for practice means you are less likely to encounter this sort of person, as they are usually sleeping off the revelry of the night before. Practicing w/a group also will preempt this sort of behavior

3. Weather conditions.The Chinese speak of something called ‘Wind Evil’, and advise that one should avoid this. Wind carries bacteria, pollution, and other things. This is difficult to avoid if you live in the S.F Bay area (or even in a valley, near an ocean, etc.). Severe cold and heat are other conditions to be wary of, as well as rain, snow, etc. This varies according to individual. While it would be foolish to practice outside in the midst of a tsunami, hurricane, monsoon, or similar circumstances, it is also far too easy to look outside, see a light rain, and say, “Oh, I think I’ll skip it today.” Personally, I thrive in cold weather, and heat makes me sleepy. I have actually practiced in weather so cold that it felt like hundreds of tiny needles poking into my fingers. But by the 3rd or 4th form, my hands have warmed up sufficiently, and by the end of my routine, so have my feet. When it really starts to rain, I have a park I go to where there are trees that provide somewhat of an umbrella. I still get wet, true, but not nearly as soggy as I would be if I were at my other park where there is no shelter. But if I am out in the open, and there is a sudden deluge, I power through it instead of running for cover, as again, we are in the Bay Area, and more often than not, the deluge is temporary at best. This varies according to individual needs. For example, in the winter, I only go out to practice for about an hour (just because I thrive in cold weather, doesn’t mean I have to be foolish: as Jou, Tsung Wa once observed in his wonderful book, The Dao of Tai Chi, “There is only one warning I would like to give: Although the practice of Taijiquan can promote good health, it cannot help people who do not take care of themselves.”), while during the summer, spring, and autumn months, I go into extra time for practice.

4. Practice areas.This is more of a preference than a DON’T. I prefer hard surfaces (and yes, I do Chen style, which is more likely to cause injury, especially since I tend to stomp very hard). If you prefer grassy areas, that’s fine. If you prefer gravel, or any sort of surface, that’s good too. But I will go out and practice in wet weather, and so my preference makes sense. But it is up to the practitioner.
So, in summation, be sensible in your practice. Be careful, use some sense, explore your area, and practice. Tai Chi, like many things in life, renders great rewards for discipline and hard work. As you sow, so shall you reap.
Good playing to you all.

TAI CHI CHUAN: SEEKING STILLNESS IN MOTION

2006-03-27T14:14:00.000-08:00

     It is becoming a more common sight in the San Francisco Bay Area: throngs of elderly Asians performing a softly fluid, slow-motion set of movements in tandem, all of them moving in a choreographic set of postures that is both soothing and graceful at the same time.
     Anyone who has been to Golden Gate Park in the early morning, or in parks in Oakland has perhaps seen them. And this prompts the question: what is this mysterious set of calisthenics they are doing? Most people can answer: Tai Chi. But what is Tai Chi, exactly?
     Tai Chi Chuan (alternately spelled Taijiquan) is an ancient exercise that combines the very best of the movement arts, Tuina (Taoist yoga), and Traditional Chinese medicine. Often many forms are composed of a certain set amount of movements (ergo, one will encounter numbers, such as the 24 Yang form, the 37 Cheng Man Ching form, the 36 Chen form, etc.) derived from a specific family legacy (Yang, Sun, Chen, Wu). And while some of these forms vary in appearance, they all carry the movements and principles that characterize Tai Chi.
     Tai Chi Chuan is a method of meditation, self-defense, an opening of one’s acupressure points (called meridians), health maintenance, a way to improve one’s self awareness, a form of physical therapy (more Western doctors are prescribing Tai Chi not only for elderly patients, but for persons with back and heart problems), a path to spiritual enlightenment, and a relaxation technique, all rolled into one. It is suitable for everyone, regardless of age, body type, or fitness level.
     The common misconception is that it is easy. The slow, languid movements one sees in its performance misleads the observer. It is primarily a mental discipline, geared toward seeking stillness in motion.
     It is perhaps one of the most taxing disciplines one can pursue. The data overload from one class is difficult: often the newbie practitioner will be frustrated, not only at their inability to do the postures perfectly the first (or second, or even hundredth time), but also at the multiple mental principles required to even come close to doing the hand forms to a satisfactory degree.
     But as any adult knows, anything that is worthwhile takes time and effort. As Thomas Paine once said, “That which we obtain too cheaply, we esteem too lightly.”
     In other words: it takes work. And like all things in this life, what you put into it affects what you receive from it. Whether it is Tai Chi, or a career, any sort of exercise, the practice of anything important is, in short, an art form. Kung Fu literally translates to, “To have skill.” One can apply this to carpentry, to computer programming, to any interest, professional or simple hobby.
     Because life is, in all its aspects, a work in progress.
     So try, and see, if Tai Chi suits you. If not, then at least you’ve made the effort, and that is something in and of itself. If so, then you have a long road ahead of you, but one filled with numerous rewards, both mental and physical, and the growth potential for each individual in this art is exponential, contingent on effort made.
     But it takes work.