I want to talk more about Taiji and how it went from something I do to something I am. Here’s yesterday’s post about my journey through Taiji. Not all of it, of course, but bits and parts of it. I want to continue on with that musing because it is such an important part of my life.
It’s funny to look back to when I first started T;iji. The second time, I mean. My brain and my body were in such disharmony. My body wanted to do the Taiji, but my brain did not. Or rather, it came up with a million reasons why it did not want to do it at the time.
I was fighting my brain every step of the way. It’s interesting to look back and remember just how much a struggle it was to practice Taiji. For the first few years, I simply could not make myself practice. I have told this story before, but there was something in my brain that refused to do it. I literally could not make myself, so I added another class a week to compensate. Then another. I waS going to classes three times a week (Tuesday, Friday, and Saturday), but not practicing at all during the day.
I had to trick myself into it. How? I told myself that I would do five minutes of stretching a day. That was it. Five minutes of stretching/warm-ups. I managed to do that and after a few months, added five more minutes. Yes, I had to treat myself like a toddler, basically, and break it up into tiny bits.
I did not reward myself for slowly adding to my practice, but I made sure to make it a habit. How? I’m not sure exactly. This is really hard for me to describe, but it’s something like this. There is a switch in my head, which is really difficult to turn on. Once I do, though, it’s on for good. There are exceptions to the rule, but for the most part, once I set a habit, I continue it.
I really kicked it into the next gear when I started the weapons. I have no idea why I balked so much at practicing the Solo Long Form, but I did. Once I started learning weapons, then I wanted to practice. I have talked about this with my teacher, and she seemed to think it made sense. She said that I liked the weaponns, so it made sense that the weapons were what got me to practice at home.
Now, I’m up to an hour-and-fifteen minutes to an hour-and-a-half, dopending.
I have included a video of Master Liang dooing the Saber Form below. I have not seen this before, and I have to smile because he’s using a saber with tassle. Apparently, he loved doing weapons with the tassle and rarely did a weapon form without te tassle.
This is the first time I’ve seen this video–or least that I remember. My teacher told me that Master Liang’s movements became more and more minimal as he got older. I can see what she means, and while I’m sure it’s a more elevated form, it makes it harder to see what he’s doing when he’s older. My teacher said that was a difficulty for his students when he wsa in his eighties and beyond.
In watching this video, I noticed that there are more flairs in the form than the one i learned. Master Liang really enjoyed the performative aspect of Taiji, and his forms were always even-numbered counts so you could do them to music. He added flourishes that were not strictly necessary. The fourth row is where I noticed that it was severely trimmed. I really like the extra flair, and I may ask my teacher if she minds me putting the flair back in.
I like the jumps and the hops. Her teacher does not. I know that many of them do not have much practical use, which is why he took them out of the forms. In my teacher’s teacher’s Taiji forms, there is no fat. I rue that he took out one of my favorite spins/kicks in the Solo Long Form, but I understand why he did.
My teacher has said that she trusts me when it comes to the weapons. She’s given me the go ahead to do wahtever I wanted. That’s the first thing that made me realize that I was no longer a newbie or even a novice in the weapons. I would say I’m intermediate and looking to improve.
I still feel like I’m just beginning to learn, but that’s how I feel in general about everything. Is it imposter’s syndrome? Maybe. But it’s also that I’m not practicing for hours every day and fine-tuning every little movement in each form.
This is something that my teacher has tried to impart into my brain. Yes, there is a form, but I don’t have to stick to it religiously. The forms are in service to the function, not the other way around.
I will say that when I first started learning Bagua, it was fucking with my brain because the basic principles of Bagua are very different from thos of Taiji. Yes, they’re both internal martial arts, but that’s where the similarity ends.
Taiji is reactive and based on taking what is given to you. It’s about expending as little energy as possible. It’s about defense and escaping a situation as soon as possible.
Bagua, on the other hand, is anything goes. My teacher has said to me that in China, if people know you study Bagua, they consider you dangerous. Aything goes, and I do mean anything. The goal is to end it as quickly as possible with little to no care as to the amount of harm done.
I’ve watched videos of Bagua practitioners, and it’s brutal. It’s still an internal martial art, yes, but it’s vicious. I really like that it balances out the Taiji, which mimics the idea of the yin-yang. Which is my symbol, by the way. I have a tattoo on my right arm with it as the pendant of an arm band, flames on one side and waves on the others.
I’m done for now. More tomorrow.