This is yet another post about limits, boundaries, and when to push it and when to rest. In the last post, I touched on not knowing when to do the former and when to do the latter. I will delve further into that concept in this post. Let’s start with Bagua. I’m much more comfortable with keeping my weight back, but it still catches me off-guard from time to time. Early on, I asked my teacher how she remembered what she was doing when (Taiji versus Bagua). She said that she just got used to it and kept them separated in her mind. At the time, I didn’t understand, but now I do.
If I’m doing Taiji, then I’m doing Taiji. I’m primarily forward (meaning my weight is forward), and I’m being receptive of energy. I’m not trying to go hard or be in your face. In fact, I’m just chill and letting the energy flow through me. It’s very much vibes based and not doing too much. Most people can do Taiji (Yang-style, not Chen-style. The latter is really bad for your knees) as long as they just take it slowly and do not try to push themselves hard.
Bagua, on the other hand, I would not recommend to just anyone. If we’re just going by feel, Bagua feels dangerous. In fact, my teacher says that in CHina, people are wary of people who study Bagua. I don’t know how true that is, but I could see it being very true. There’s an aggression to Bagua that is completely absent in Taiji.
When I first started studying Bagua, I wondered how I would be able to make peace with how different they were. I had been studying Taiji up to that point, and the whole vibe of Taiji is to just be chill and not exert yourself too much. Empty step and never be double-weighted.
Bagua doesn’t care about any of that. The motto and mentality of Bagua are to do what it takes to ‘win’. Double-weighted? No matter. No empty stepping? Not a big deal! Take the aggression and run with it. In fact, start the aggression yourself. It’s explosive and a great way to rid myself of any anger I’m feeling (even if it’s only for a few seconds).
Like the yin-yang, Taiji and Bagua are polar opposites that complement each other. One is hot and one is cold. One is light and one is dark. One is day and one is night. They could not be more different from each other, and yet, tthey work really well together.
It’s funny. If you had asked me ten years ago, I would have said that Taiji was all I needed. It really helped in so many ways, and I truly believe it saved my life. I still do, actually. And I will always be eternally grateful to it. I also think if I had just stuck to Taiji alone, I would have been fine with that. Taiji has done so much for me, and it keeps on giving. It haas eased me into middle age with few aches and pains. I’m not saying I don’t have any because of course I do. But all that grumbling that people do as they get older, I have missed for the most part.
Adding Bagua to the mix filled a hole I didn’t know I had. I have done walking the circle with Deer Horn Knives for about a decade, and it has always been my favorite weapon. What spurred me to finally do it? I’m not sure. Here’s the thing, though. When I brought it up to my teacher (that I wanted to learn the Deer Horn Knives), she said that I first had to learn the Swimming Dragon Form. It’s the basic solo hands only form for Bagua upon which everything else is built. Since she’s my teacher, I did not question this. Look. I’m a questioner by nature, and I will question almost everything, but when it came to what my teacher wants or doesn’t want me to do? Nope. Not going to question it.
I’ll be real. she doesn’t put many restrictions on me to begin with. She’s very laid-back, and since I started teaching myself weapon forms, she’s never said no. So when she asks something of me or tells me to do something, I will automatically do it. Like when she asked me to perform at the next demo (well, not asked, really), I said yes. I didn’t even think about saying no.
Same with when she told me I had to learn the Swimming Dragon Form before I could learn the Bagua Knives Form. When it came to anything related to martial arts, I trusted her implicitly. I also respected her tremendouly because she had been studying Taiji for so much longer than I had.
Here’s the thing about boundaries and limits. It’s great to set them, but it’s really hard to do. Especially if they are internal limits and boundaries. It’s hard to check them against something, obviously. And in the case of solitary limits, it’s even harder. My teacher is very encouraging when it comes to me teaching weapon forms to myself. She likes to say that I have all the time in the world and that I can just take my time.
Intellectually, I know it’s true. But there’s still a part of me that wonders if I’m going a bit too slowly when it comes to teaching myself the various forms. I know I’m not (especially as I am forgetting things), but it’s hard to shake the feeling of American exceptionalism. Even though I don’t participate much in general society, that doesn’t mean I don’t get stuck on some of the ideals being floated around.
I also feel bad that I took longer to warm up to weapons than I should have–and to keep going. I started my first weapon form (Sword Form) about a year after my teacher first suggested it–and only because she put a wooden sword in my hand and just told me to hold it. During the learning of my second weapon form, the Saber Form, we had to stop for a few reasons. We did not get back to it until a few years later.
By that time, we were working on the next weapon form, which was the Cane Form. I got her to teach me the Saber Form in my private lessons at the same time. It went much more smoothly, I was able to pick it up fairly painlessly. By then, I understood that different weapon forms, and I was ready to rock with whatever I was given.
That’s it for now. More tomorrow.