Underneath my yellow skin

Listen to my body talk

One of the major tenets of Taiji (if not the major one) is to be as lazy as possible in your movements. My teacher has to emphasize this with Americans because our society is very much no pain, no gain–give it 110% (which drives me crazy when people say that because it is literally impossible. You cannot give more than your best. You just cannot.). She has to tell newcomers over and over again that the goal is not to push yourself or to go as hard as possible. One of the saying is, “No hurry, no worry.” When I told my mom that and the philosophy behind it, she immediately changed it to, “No hurry, no going too slowly” or some nonsense like that. Taiwanese culture is pretty go hard all the time as well. I sighed and told her that she got it wrong. There is no ‘too slowly’ in Taiji.

I’ll admit it. I’m pretty lazy to begin with so this saying appealed to me. But it makes sense in conservation terms as well. The point is not just to be lazy, but to use as little energy as possible to get the maximum result. So it’s not saying don’t use any energy as a general rule, but not to waste energy. It’s so American to push as hard as possible, which means wasting energy. If I can push something with an energy level of 2 to get it where I want it to go, why use a level 10 energy?

The point of this is that when I started Taiji, I had the mentality that I had to push myself as hard as possible. It took me several years to shake myself of that mentality and I still struggle with it sometimes. When I’m unsure of a move, I’ll instinctively go harder. Then I’ll relax, but it’s not easy.

It’s well-known that I don’t like the Taiji Solo Form. The long form, at least. I struggled with it for years and it’s still my least-favorite part of Taiji. In the first few years, I would hurt every time we did the Solo Form. It was in my back and sometimes my knees. It would start at the end of the first section and by the third section, I could barely move. For whatever reason, though, I kept it to myself and just tried to power through the pain. And this was pain, not just ache. I finally brought it up with my teacher maybe four years into my practice and she was able to suggest a few things that vastly helped the situation. One was that I was collapsing my knee or overextending it. The other was dropping my shoulders. By paying attention to one of these things every time I practiced, I was able to correct both problems (not 100%, but enough to make a vast improvement) and make it through the Solo Long Form without being in excruciating pain by the end.


I still don’t like the Long Form, vastly preferring the Medium Form, but it doesn’t hurt any longer. In part it’s because there have been some changes to the basic structure of the form, but it’s also because I’ve made the adjustments and not pushed myself so hard while doing it.

Ever since my medical trauma, I have no choice but to listen to my body. I can no longer power through–well, anything. The second day I was home from the hospital, I tried out my steel sword. Not smart, but I was eager to see if I could still do my beloved Sword Form. I managed three postures before my body said, “Nope. Time to quit now.” There was no way I could have physically continued.

This is a good thing. At that time, I was very fragile. My body had gone through something traumatic (walking pneumonia, two cardiac arrests, and a stroke, just to remind everyone); it would have been unrealistic to expect it to snap back into shape and do everything it could do previously.

I don’t remember now how long it took before I was able to do a whole form, but I was very cautious. I never pushed it, even though I was tempted. Now, it’s been five-and-a-half months since that night and I’m better than ever. I’m doing my whole Taiji routineĀ  once again–and more. Before the medical trauma, I did one section of the Solo Form, about ten minutes of warmups, and twenty minutes of weapons. Now, it’s fifteen to twenty minutes of warmups, one section of the Solo Form, and a half hour or more of weapons. I’ve added a ‘jam’ session at the end of the weapons in which I put on a music video and just move a weapon (or weapons in the case of the double sabers) to the groove. It’s liberating not to follow a form, to be honest. And it’s very cool that I’m at the point in my studies where I can be reasonably assured that I am not doing anything egregiously wrong. As long as I follow the basic tenets of my elbows being lower than my shoulders and letting my waist lead the movements, I should be good. Also, no one is watching. This is for me and me alone. So why not do what I want? I can make mistakes, have false starts, and stumble as I go. It’s all good! I’m not doing this for show. But, speaking of that, why not? As I’ve mentioned before, watching the demo made me realize that I’m decent at the weapons because I’ve put hard work into them.

But back to my limits. In class yesterday, I hit the wall at the end. The classes are now an hour-and-a-half rather than an hour, which I’m sure was part of the problem. All of a sudden, I just had to stop and I left the class without saying anything to my teacher. It was as the class ended, but I still felt bad so I sent her an email explaining that I had hit a wall. I think most people can understand my situation and give me some leeway given that I went through so much. My teacher was very understanding (as she is in general), but it was a helpful reminder to me that I had to keep an eye on my energy levels. Not to say I needed to be paranoid about it, but just to keep an eye out to keep myself from going too far.

In a way, it’s a positive thing because it shows how far I’ve come. I mean, when I first woke up in the hospital, I could not do anything for myself other than eat and drink ice cold water*. Now, not even six months later, I’m doing more every day for my Taiji routine. I rarely think about the physical pain I went through because, well, there wasn’t much pain, per se. Hardly any at all with the good drugs coursing through my veins. By the time the narcotics wore off, I was pretty much physically healed. That’s bananas! I was unconscious for a week and in the hospital for another week. The drugs completely left my system by the end of my second week home. So, I was pain-free by a month after that fateful night.

After that, the only thing I had to be careful about was my stamina. Now, I would say I am completely recovered. But, as evidenced by my Zoom Taiji class yesterday, I need to be careful about not overdoing it. I have all my bonus days to learn

 

*My joke because I was obsessed with the iced water when I woke up.

 

 

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