This is part four of my weeklong treatise on the unexpected benefits of Taiji and other things related. In the last post, I meandered here and there, but was ostensibly talking about my teacher and how I grew to trust her. Because it’s me, I had to give background as to why I have a hard time trusting people.
In addition, my prior Taiji teacher was terrible and did not engender trust. He was skanky, sleazy, and a bad teacher. He was way up his own ass and thought much too highly of himself.
Side note: I find this to be a problem with cis white dudes who position themselves as gurus, whether consciously or unconsciously. They already have an unearned authority about them just because they are cis white dudes, and then they surround themselves with people who agree with their assessment, which means they usually don’t get told off when they are crossing the line. In other words, it becomes like a cult.
One of the first things I did when I was looking for a new teacher was look for women (now, I would expand that non-men). That meant drastically reducing the number of studios available to me, but I was fine with that. It was that important to me, and I stand by that.
It took time for my teacher to earn my trust, which is as how it should be. Just because someone is an expert in something, it doesn’t mean they are immediately trustworthy. Also, someone can be an expert in something and still a lousy teacher.
One thing my teacher excels at is teaching each student in the way they will best learn. With me, it’s giving explanations for things until I have reached the point where explanations are not necsessary any longer. With a classmate of mine, it’s scolding her lightly. Another ex-classmate of mine had MS and with her, it was adapting to doing the forms in a wheelchair.
I have reached the point where I don’t need the explanations any longer, but I do appreciate when she tells me what the applications for the movements are for. She knows what I need in order to accept what she’s saying, and she has no problems providing that. It’s what makes her a good teacher, and I have heard it from other students as well.
This is a decade-and-a-half in the making, though. It wasn’t instant, and I was very resistant every step of the way. I will be frank. I did not like Taiji when I first started it. Both times. But, there was something there. There was something that kept me coming back. Despite my irritation with it. Despite me pushing back on it. Despite me hating certain aspects of it. I knew there was something there. I knew that I wanted to do it…some day. Just not that day.
It’s how I learn when I’m not cowed into just doing what I’m told to do. My instinct is to question, push, and be skeptical. I don’t think that’s a bad thing, by the way. Society always need someone who will not just go along to get along. That’s a bit grandiose for this situation, but it’s true.
My mother and I used to argue about tradition. She would tell me a story she thought was positive (and in keeping with tradition), and I would react in a way that made it clear that I thougrht it was a negative. She burst out angrily that, “Just becuase it’s tradition, it doesn’t mena it’s bad.” I retorted without thinking about it, “Just because it’s tradition, it doesn’t mean it’s good, either.”
I know my mother thinks of me as a contrarian. She has complained that I am against everything she is for. Or everything she is. The thing is, though, it’s not about her (even though it’s somewhat about her). What I mean is that she is not the main character in my story. My whole being is not centered around her, despite how much she wants that to be true.
So. I am about as different from her as possible. This is true. Is it in response to who she is? No. And yes. No beacuse I am who I am. I just am. Yes because I have seen her and how stridently she professes a certain way of being–without following it herself.
To be more real, her antiquated, outdated, and, frankly, sexist ideas of what a woman should be has horrified me since I’ve realized how sexist they are. What’s more, the things she professes to believe in have not benefited her at all. In addition, all the stereotypical things that she claims a woman should be/do/think/feel, well, she does not herself. She cooked, sewed, and cleaned when I was a child because that’s what a wife/mother did. She didn’t like any of them, though, which I did not realize it until much later.
I’ve seen from my parents’ marriage that my mother has gotten a very raw deal with her adherence to gender stereotypes. The thing is, though, that while she said all that mess (a woman’s duty is to get married and have children, for example), she seemed to resent having to do it. Which I understand, but which was not fun to be on the receiving end of.
Back to Taiji. I went in expecting to be gaslit and shined on. That’s what I got from my parents and from my first Taiji teacher. In other words, I went in with a big chip on my shoulder and my teacher had to prove that she was worthy of trust. Not respect because everyone deserves that, but I was not going to trust someone without reason again.
Like everything else in Taiji, the trust grew at a very slow pace. I mean, I don’t trust easily, and she had to prove over and over again that I had not mispaced that trust. I will say, I was inclined to give it to her, especially after her suggestion for my back problems was a resounding success. That was maybe two or three years into my studies. Not only did she give me a good answer, she did it in a way that was very non-pressuring. She made a suggestion, but did not push it.
I’m done for today. Will pick it up again tomorrow.