Underneath my yellow skin

Tag Archives: Bagua

New year, new me, who dis?, part two

And we’re back. Let’s talk current family situation and what I want to do about it. In the last post, I talked about the history of my family dysfunction. That was not the point of my post, but it’s what was apparently on my mind. My father has dementia. He’s had it for roughly twenty… Continue Reading

New year, new me, who dis?

We are back with another post about my goals for the new year. In my last post, I was talking about Taiji and how much it’s helped me in my life. It’s not hyperbole to say that it’s saved my life, both during the medical crisis (literally) and before it (emotionally). My family dysfunction runs… Continue Reading

Taiji and how it’s changed my life, part six

I’m continuing to muse about Taiji and me for the sixth post. In the last post, I talked about how I learned to trust my Taiji teacher over time beacuse she was consistent, transparent, and steady in her response to my barrage of questions. It’s one of her best qualities in my eyes. I could… Continue Reading

Bagua brings out the beast insside of me

I am AFAB and a part of two different cultures that put a heavy emphasis on performing femininity. That would  be American and Taiwanese. It’s insidious in both cultures, though in differing ways. Taiwanese culture, at least through my parents, is regressive, stifling, and has rigid gender expectations. Every time I’ve been there, I have… Continue Reading

Bagua is life

I had a private lesson today. Bagua, not Taiji. There is so much I want to leran; it’s hard to focus on just one thing. There are All. The. Weapons. But, for now, I have been captivated by the Swimming Dragon Form (Bagua), and I have asked my teacher to teach me. Before we got… Continue Reading

Bagua is my bag (for real)–bait and switched again

Yesterday, I was going to write about Bagua and then went completely off the rails. Well, not completely. It was tangential to what I was talking about, but it did relate. I was writing about my mother’s ability to gaslight me about past events, but with utter sincerity on her part. Because of this, I… Continue Reading