I’ve officially surpassed the threshold of how much Taiji weaponry I do a day–meaning I do more now than I did before going into the hospital. My biceps are bulging in a very pleasing way (I’ve always found it easy to build muscle) and I’m STRONK. I love my biceps. I told you that I’m really feeling myself lately and I’m CUTE AS FUCK. It’s the weirdest feeling, but I’m soaking it for everything it’s worth. Hey, after a lifetime of feeing fat, ugly, and worthless, I’m going to embrace the positivity for as long as it lasts. I know it’s gauche and Just Not Done, but I don’t care. As a female-presenting person, I’m supposed to take great pains to make myself look hot and available, but not slutty or as if I put in the effort because then I’m a slut and/or trying too hard.
I don’t care. At all. Also, I’ve fallen completely in love with the guandao, which is a big glaive-like Taiji weapon. Here is a martial arts movie featuring it. It’s tremendous.
This is my next weapon. I know my teacher’s teacher knows this form, but I don’t know if she does. I don’t care. I’m going to learn it one way or the other. Watching the video I included, there is something breathtakingly beautiful about a well-choreographed martial arts fight scene. I know it’s ridiculous and not how it’d go down in real life, but I just love the clashing of the steel and the seamless interaction.
Before I went into the hospital, I thought about teaching myself the left side of the Double Saber Form. I started doing it, but didn’t get very far before my medical trauma. I am thinking about it again. I like having goals and it seems like a reasonable one.
My teacher’s Taiji demo was yesterday (Saturday). It’s always near the Lunar New Year to celebrate that. It was on Zoom with some of the people demoing in the actual building. I’ve participated in the demo before, but only in a group. For the first few times I participated, it was only for the Solo Form, which anyone can join. There’s usually thirty or forty people in it. Then, the year before the pandemic, I joined in when they did the Sword Form. Maybe twenty people participate in this form. I used my wooden sword, of course, even though I normally practice with my steel sword.
I love my weapons, but I never think I’m any good an–well, much of anything. I’m a perfectionist, which I come by honestly. Nothing less than perfection was accepted in my family, which has had a negative effect on me. I know my Sword Form (right side) is decent, but I would never say it’s good. Until now. It’s part of feeling myself! But it’s also not putting myself down as I’m wont to do. Or rather, dismissing my abilities, talents, and skills.
I am a huge Hercule Poirot fan, and, yes, this is relevant. I love the bombastic fussy little man who is always right. There are many problems with the series and we don’t need yet another British dude pretending to be Belgian, but I adore him. I have read each of his books at least five times, some up to a hundred. I love the David Suchet portrayal and have seen all of those episodes several times as well. I have all the Poirot novels, although they are crumbling away. Physically crumbling, I mean. I’ve had them for decades and they are made of physical material. I’ll probably buy them all again on my Kindle at some point because I don’t want to buy the whole collection on paper.
Anyhoo. There was a passage in one of the books, I think it’s Death in the Clouds where Hastings is castigating Poirot for saying that yes, he is the best detective or something else superlative about himself. Poirot replied (and I’m paraphrasing), “If I saw that ability in someone else, I would be amazed. Why wouldn’t I feel the same about myself?” It’s underscoring the differences between Brits who are always self-abasing and Belgians who, at least to Agatha Christie, are flamboyant and egotistical. I have issues with her racist portrayals as well as her classicist ones, but I still love Poirot. And I agree with him that if you admire something in someone else, then you should admire it in yourself.
I’m a little wary about tooting my own horn because I don’t want to be a jerk about it. On the other hand, I’ve spent most of my life hating myself and putting myself down. I think I can be excused a bit of patting myself on the back–especially as I am not putting anyone else down.
During the demo, I realized that I was better than I had been giving myself credit for. It’s partly the lesser-known Dunning-Kruger effect that I’m always rattling on about–people who are good at something tend to underestimate how good they actually are at it and how much better at it than they are other people. It’s because you don’t have a frame of reference outside yourself so what you do and look like, etc., is your norm. It’s only when you see other people doing something similar that you can say, “You know what? I’m not so bad after all.”
I will fully admit that my Solo Form needs a lot of work. I have pretty much ignored it since learning that weapons were a thing and that I could do them 24/7, I put the Solo Form to the waaaaaay back of my mind and never thought of it again. Some years ago, my teacher’s teacher started changing around the Solo (Long) Form. This was when I was teaching myself the left side of that form. He kept switching it up, so I quit. That was roughly two-thirds into the third (and last) section. I was frustrated with all the changes and wanted to let him settle the form before finishing. Then, he started teaching a different solo form (short), which I really liked. Then, the pandemic happened and I gave up on the Solo Form completely. I did it during the Zoom classes when we did it (normally the first section), but that was it. Now, my teacher is teaching beginners the updated version of the Long Form, which I need to learn yet again.
I only care about the weapons, honestly. I do the warmups and a first section (Short Form) every day to keep limber and keep my eye in. I know I need to re-learn the Solo Form so I can tutor people in it when I get back to going to the studio. I’m my teacher’s senior student and a pretty dang good tutor to boot. I would have been a good teacher, but I just didn’t have the nerve for it. or rather, the patience. But I don’t mind tutoring in Taiji classes.
Feeling myself means that I love how I’m getting along with the Taiji weapons. Once I woke up in the hospital, I was worried about whether or not I’d be able to do my weapons again. The docs were gloomy-faced and doom-saying all over the place. They warned it would take months if not years for me to get back to normal–if I was able to get there at all. I cannot emphasize enough that the prognosis was grim–and I beat the odds.
At the demo, I saw someone do a form I think he made up himself–and he’s been practicing for a much shorter time than I have. I marveled at his confidence and said, “Why the hell not?” I’m not sure I’m going to design my own form, but I might as well learn as many as I can–and learn them well. Then, perhaps I’ll be a solo performer at the next demo. Squad goals!