I want to talk more about Bagua today. Yesterday, I talked more about Taiji because that’s my first love and what I’ve been doing for fifteen years. Bagua is a Johnny-Come-Lately in terms of time doing it. I think it might be a year? Probably not quite. Time has absolutely no meaning now.
I was watching the video I’d done of my teacher (doing the Swimming Dragon Form) because my memory is so terrible now. Even though we went over a few new movements several times yesterday, my brain was like, “Nah, I’m not remembering that.”
I’m glad that I have an excuse for it–my stroke, I mean. Not to mention the fact that I’m just getting older. I will admit that it surprises me that I’m not upset about it because I used to be very proud of my exceptional memory. I could remember names, dates, and facts without putting any effort into it. It’s because that’s a small price to pay for being alive.
At least that’s what I thought at the time. Now, I’m not so sure. Not about the trade-off, but about being glad to still be alive. Here’s the thing–yes, me surviving was a miracle and a once-in-a-lifetime experience. But, just like anything else, it fades away with time. When I first got out of the hospital, I was marveling every day at being alive. I was supposed to be dead. I was not supposed to be alive. That’s sobering, I’ll tell you what.
But that was nearly three-and-a-half years ago. Day by day, the magic and wondered faded–just a litle bit. It had to, really, as it could not be sustained. When I first came out of my coma, my depression was down 90% and my anxiety was down roughly 60%. Now my depression has roughly doubled (so still down from where it was before, but not iudeal) and my anxiety is up 10% or so.
Taiji helps with all that. It’s the one thing that has kept me sane, frankly. Before my medical crisis and after as well. I thought it was all I needed because there was so much in it, you could study it for the rest of your life and just barely scratch the surface of it (if you don’t devoute several hours a day to it).
Then, Bagua entered my ilfe. Honestly, it came into my life a decade ago via my teacher showing me how to walkk the circle with DeerHorn Knives as an alternative to meditation because the latter was causing flashbacks. I was a pacifist at the time, but once as I was walking the circle (and focusing on the ‘enemy’ of the circle), I had a flash of, “If it’s you or me, then it’s you” so intensely, it shook me. That was the first time I had felt my life was worth fighting for (in that thought, I meant that if one of us was gonig to die, it would be the enemy/opponent).
That was all the Bagua I did for a while because I was focusing on Taiji. But then, I–well, let me put it this way. I did the walking the circle as part of my warm-ups (hands only or with DeerHorn Knives), and then I really wanted to learn a DeerHorn Knives form. My teacher said I had to learn the hands only Swimming Dragon Form first, so I begrudgingly agreed to it.
I think I have made it excruciatingly clear by now that I like but don’t love the Solo Form. It’s the basis for everything we do, so I have to know it. I like it better now than I did before, but it’s still not the first thing I want to practice. I am refining the Solo Form now because of all the tweaks my teacher’s teacher has made to it and because I’ve been fudging a few movements. This is normal, but I want to sharpen up my Solo Form.
Anyway, I asked my teacher to teach me the Swimming Dragon Form, hands only, with the ulterior motive of eventually learning the DeerHorn Knives Swimming Dragon Form. This is my dream right now. I will say, arguably,y that the DeerHorn Knives are my favorite. I know I’m supposed to say I don’t have a favorite, but I do. It’s the DeerHorn Knives.
I’ve said it before, but when my teacher cajoled me to just hold the wooden sword, I instantly fell in love. The second my fingers closed around the hilt, I knew it was what I was meant to do with my life. It was that instanteous, and it’s been that long-lasting. The sword may no longer be my favorite, but it’s still up there.
I know it sounds mad, but I had a different feeling when I first held each weapon. Hated the saber. Hated it for so long. It’s because I did not understand it and expected it to be just like the sword. It wasn’t, and I resented it for not feeling good in my hand. After learning nearly four rows of the Saber Form (out of six), I stopped for more than one rreason. I got in a minor car accident; my teacher didn’t feel comfortable teaching the end of the fourth row; and I really just wasn’t feeling it.
We went back to it several years later, and it was a completely different experience. I was holding it differently and had a completely different mindset. I never loved it, but I liked it much better than I had before. I now have a warm fondness for it now that I understand it better. But, man, the first five years of dealing with it was not fun.
The cane was another weapon that did not feel comfortable in my hands. With the weapons, I love, they almost feel alive. They hum in my hands (not literally, obviously), and it’s as if they want to be moved. The ones that I did not bond with just laid flat in my hands.
Side note: It’s similar to when I write fiction. I don’t consider myself to be the creator, but merely the conduit through which the words flow. If I try to make them do what I want them to do, then the words just lie flat on the page. If I allow them to form as they wish, then they shimmer and glow.
That’s it for today. I will most certainly have more to say tomorrow.