The Between

We are found between:
our thoughts and feelings,
our hopes and despair, and
our movement and stillness.

Do you know this place between?
It is the space between thoughts.
It is the move between the moves.
It is the letting go beneath the pain and joy.

The between is the face in the mirror
able to smile without laughter,
able to observe without judgement, and
be fully present without past or future.

The between is the life we live between birth and death.
The between is you and I connected without being together.
The between is what we cultivate through the decades of
practice together but ultimately alone in the womb of our creation.

 


I apologize for not posting in a while. Life slips away without our knowing sometimes. Through the slipping, I’ve found more connections than every before. I hope you have as well. 

Up Into Down

The simple but not so simple Dan-yu is a foundation to the art of Tai Chi. While rediscovering notes and practices of the Taoist Arts, I came across some very simple directions from Master Moy from two decades ago concerning the dan-yu and activating the bubbling springs. Wrapping my current experiences into the notes and memories of the correction, I had an idea on how to depict the experience albeit from the more intellectual side of things. I hope you find it useful in your own practices of playing around in the bubbling spring.

Dan Yu Graphic

May you step into the bubbling spring with every movement.

Let Go Your Singular Focus

Down, Up, Same Time
In, Out, Same Breath
Left, Right, Same Side
Hand, Foot, Same Body

Our ability to focus is a blessing and curse. Our focus determines our reality as some say. It also limits our ability to perceive more than the focal point upon which we become attached. This is true of many aspects of our lives. Relative to the subject matter of this blog, I want to poke at a concept hinted at by many Tai Chi masters including Mr. Moy. I have contemplated his teaching of “up down same time” in the Dan-yu, Tor-yu and many moves of the forms. Recently, my body has recently provided me with the experience out of which I’m beginning to grasp the teaching over two decades later.

Many students struggled when shown how to pay attention to both the hand and foot at the same time or breathing continuously without stopping. These are all of the same nature. Namely, the philosophy of yin and yang are interwoven into all we do. However, the concept of yin and yang is more of a gradient as opposed to competing constraints or polarized opposites. Our Western mind is cultured to think of opposites as different, distinct and separate. The traditional Eastern mind comes at the opposites as an interplay or dance between friends. This continual exchange of energy between opposites may be experienced in Taoist Arts and other forms of martial arts. Power emerges out of properly aligned relaxed posture. Health emerges our of balancing physical work and relaxation within our particular situation. Philosophically, opposites are fundamental to our experience due to our naming minds. We separate things based on our observations. This is this and that is that. The mere act of naming separates aspects of what is ultimately a single integrated experience. For lack of a better construction, yin and yang are used to conceptualize the differences and ever changing relationship between. The thing is yin and yang are of the same nature or rather originate out of the same experience. Without light there is no shadow. Meditation pokes at this experience of the oneness of things underneath the trappings of all our thoughts, descriptions and understandings.

To facilitate the experience of the relatedness of yin and yang, we have to let our focus and attention be different than our normal apprehension of our experience. There are many paths we can take to accomplish this. The experience of unifying opposing elements may feel completely foreign. For those driven to do, do, do without cessation to the point of sleeping only a few hours at night, letting up on our focus on whatever needs done can feel like bulldozer demolishing the house we live in. For others, who go day to day without direction, purpose or meaning, the experience is elusive. It can feel like warship cutting through the lazy waters of the sea we are floating in. The waves from the ship turn us over into the depths of what we know not. No matter our particular approach to life, there’s a middle ground to stand not upon but within. More often then not, we need a guide or some type of feedback from another further along the path to realize this middle realm between our particular oppositional forces in life.

Occasionally Mr. Moy would touch a hand while doing foundations or a move and talk about the bubbling spring and how the intent is in the feet. This is the beginning of expanding our attention and loosening our focus on one body part. It slowly connects two or more body parts within a movement or posture. I remember a particular correction from Mr. Moy who touched my hands as I pressed down in the dan-yu. He mentioned to push from the bubbling spring in the foot. He did the same as I pushed up out of the squatting exercise. Pushing up from the feet and expressing through the hands while going up was easy to grasp. Going down in that correction left me grasping. However, after a few moments I must have caught on as he said, “You see, up down same time.” The experience of what occurred when I allowed my attention to be split between hand and foot at the same time set me on the path eventually repeating the correction. With regular practice it became a part of my movements. Mr. Moy also set me off on a journey of discovery about unifying the opposites instead of holding them at opposing corners of a boxing ring. Letting go of our need to do right with our singular focus we can pay attention to more than one thing. It’s the same as allowing your vision to relax. When our focus is not centered on one thing our periphery vision pulls more information into our consciousness. We see “more.” In actuality, we see the same amount of information. Our brain simply removes most of what we see from our consciousness due to our focus on an object. We have a perceptual bias tricking our brain into “knowing” what’s going on when we are deluded by our bias and its singular short term focus. “You see what you expect to see, Severus.” (Potter fans will get that reference). 

We can choose to let our focus relax not just with our vision but with other senses and even our intent. This relaxation of our focus is the first step of letting go the need to be at the center of everything. It is expanding our use of attention. It is the experience of not knowing begetting the ability to say “I don’t know” which in turn allows us to learn. Using our attention outside our singular focus is an opening of our spiritual to experience more than our limited ego-bound reality. It’s a door to new experience not of our nature. As we let go our conscious self and reach out with our feeling (a reference for the Star Wars geeks), we open our world to more richer experiences. Over time this creates the ability to perceive the simultaneity of movement in the instruction “up down same time” or the circular breathing of “in out same breath.” We start to see the world from a different perspective. It’s like we start working the third aim and objective of what used to be the Taoist Tai Chi Society, “cultural exchange.” The words themselves take on meaning beyond the simple and albeit confusing sentences as above so below (one for the Alchemists). Our dedicated practice through the years creates experiences moving beyond the emptiness of the words taken at face value. The words become reflections of our experience, directions on how to achieve those experiences as well as pointers to principles not easily captured in written form. And, therein lies the heart of openness, learning and spirit. 

Hand, Foot, Same Intent
Left, Right, Same Side
Out, In, Same Breath
Up, Down, Same Time

Returning to the Source

Returning to the source is something we need to do everyday. We read in Taoist texts of the idea of returning to source. There are all kinds of methods and symbolic instructions for transforming the body. While I don’t want to distract from whatever Taoist lineage or martial arts philosophy you practice, I want to bring the idea of returning to the source to something more pragmatic. I want to elucidate that it’s not some mystical thing that by practicing the methods we can achieve immortality. Returning to the source is an approach to living we can embrace everyday and within our practices no matter how advanced or often we partake in our art forms.  

I haven’t posted in a while as my martial arts practice has waned due to what I talked about in the 8mm of Learning post from almost a year ago. The path of recovering from a major surgery like an intervertebral fusion is a winding one filled with pot holes, setbacks and frustration. It also has a plethora of opportunities to rediscover lost art forms and practices. Pain and suffering has a way of focusing our attention on what’s important. For me, it was about treating every moment as a decision to bring movement to every part of my body. A year after the surgery, I can tell you without regular movement my body begins to remind me of its importance. Muscles tighten. Small nerve sensations speak to me of the edge I live on every day. I certainly do not have the pain and nerve issues that brought me to my knees, sent me to urgent care, restricted my walking range to 50 feet, or started me down the path of opioid and muscle relaxer addiction. I understand from others who have had parts of their spine fused, my surgery is a 100% success. I can do everything I was able to do before I first felt that twinge in my back after shoveling some wet Colorado snow. Furthermore, I can do it without medications. 

Going through the process of conservative techniques, pain management, surgery, and rehabilitation has given me a new awareness of the edge we all live on with respect to our ability to move, our general health and the myriad threats to our daily living. It has also revealed to me the importance of enjoying what we have and the need to balance risk and reward in our daily decisions. I haven’t swung my pendulum to the never ending pursuit of an unobtainable ideal of perfect health. Nor have I let myself not care about what I do with my body, health and life. I’m finding my particular balance day by day. Some days are better than others. Just the other evening I was practicing the foundation exercised called the dan-yu. I was fairly relaxed and found the connection Master Moy helped me find years ago. Focusing on the bubbling spring on the bottom of the foot, the movement felt like it did not stop. There was no bottom or top of the movement but rather transitions from squatting down to standing up and back again. My pelvis opened and closed with the movement and timed with my inhalation and exhalation. After a few cycles, the movement began to integrate into a single ever-changing experience. The breath guided not only the up and down but the expansion and contraction in the pelvis or perhaps those movements created my breath. Both are true and depend only on our perspective.  The weight stayed anchored in the bubbling springs throughout.

The bubbling springs is an acupuncture point on the sole of the foot. It is an entry point for the kidney meridian. The image of the bubbling spring is apt as it brings about the idea of energy bubbling up and supporting the life around it. All movement within the body happens with fluids and lubricity. The bubbling spring in Chinese acupuncture theory is an entry or source of this energy. Without the renewing vitality inherent in the Bubbling spring, we degrade over time becoming dry, rigid and inflexible. Further stagnation exacerbates this situation. I witnessed a lot of stagnation through the trials and tribulations along my path through the forest of immobility over the last couple of years. It wasn’t until the other night, I felt like I had returned to the source of vitality I cultivated for most of my life. I’m not saying that the bubbling spring is my source. It was simply a focal point or schwerpunkt to rediscover after a significant change. In mythological terms, it was a threshold I passed returning from another realm where I had to slay one of my many dragons of pain and suffering. My schwerpunkt or center of gravity in my life is movement without which death begins to speak to me over my left shoulder or through the nerves in my leg. Movement and change bring about learning and growth keeping mortality at bay.  Moving and changing removes oppressive nature of mortality from our concern and connects us with our internal and external environments. Paradoxically, being more aware of my mortality and eminent but unknown time of death allows me to live more fully. And herein lies the true source of vitality of life. Respect for life and movement come from accepting death, stillness and the unknown moments ahead. Being certain about anything is a form of stagnation preventing learning, moving and change. When I say death, I’m not just referring to our physical passing from this universe. I’m also referring to the death of ideas, relationships and interactions internally and externally. Everything lives and dies. Movement and stillness are intimately related.   Bringing these facts into our daily lives is a source of vitality, humility and respect. It is returning to the source.

Why Practice?

Why practice your form of particular martial arts, meditation, silent retreat or whatever relaxation techniques? We practice to apply the principles we are taught.  While practice does bring benefit in reinforcing our learning, the true benefit lies outside of the practices and in the practical application of what we learn as applied to everyday situations.  Applying the essence of the art forms we learn to our interactions and experience has the capacity to lessen the suffering of both ourselves and others.

We develop situational awareness and understanding of our influence on what’s happening when we take the time to observe ourselves, our behaviors and more importantly the thoughts driving us in any given situation. We develop the capability of observing without judgement and more specifically without fear of loss and how we think others are judging us through the the art forms of martial arts or meditation.  This allows us over time to recognize the transient nature of our thoughts and emotions.  Thoughts come and go.  It’s our focus on the thoughts making them recur over and over until we generate the dis ease that filters into our body, awareness, and attention.  Emotions are the energy we experience in response to the unfolding moment including both external and internal realities.  When we hold onto our emotions and the thoughts they generate, we create the altered reality we generally experience in our daily lives.  This leaves us to ride the waves of our experience or get crushed by the force of them.

Practicing meditative or a martial art chips away at the mental and emotional structures we build up over our lifetimes. Practice begins to lessens the waves or at least the destruction caused by the major waves impacting the shores of our soul.  Reflecting on the essence of our practices allows us to simplify the practice into things we can apply moment-to-moment and not just to the situations of our art forms.  Our interactions slowly change to more manageable situations.  We find the emotional trauma and suffering doesn’t last as long.  Anger, sadness or happiness come and go just as the thoughts we witnessed in our practices.  Herein lies the true benefit of practice.

We bring about more life satisfaction if we can reduce how long we hold on to the anger, sadness or other things that make us suffer.  Reducing the suffering in our lives in turn provides an example for others to follow.  This is the pebble we drop into the stream of life having the potential to lessen the suffering not only of ourselves but those we interact with.  We help others by maintaining our calm and center during the storms we encounter day to day.  Instead of stressing out, we can simply adapt to the ever changing moment benefiting both ourselves and others.

When we apply what we learn in our practices in this manner, we move from practicing when we set time aside to do so towards practicing all of the time we are awake.  This impacts others even when we are not awake and thus we connect with something beyond ourselves when we turn our lives from practice into an art form itself.  May we all enjoy the practice of making our life into an art form.

8mm of Learning

Eight millimeters is a significant misalignment between the sacrum and lumbar vertebrae. How do I know this?   It’s the underlying cause of not being able to practice tai chi for over seven months or unable to walk more than fifty feet on the most painful days even with the narcotic pain medication, nerve desensitizers and muscle relaxers. Life in the past year has been a struggle to say the least.  When you can’t even walk a few hundred feet to go see your daughter sing in a choir in front of hundreds of people at a winter festival, it’s pretty obvious something needs to be done.  The inability to enjoy and partake in family activities was the last straw.  It was not long after that moment of laying down in the car waiting for my family to return from the winter festival that I went under the knife.  I had my fifth lumbar and first sacral vertebrae fused. I was literally screwed and glued.  It was an excellent decision.  There has been practically no sciatic pain since the surgery.  There’s occasional tingling in my foot or hip the doctor says could be the nerve recovering or my body figuring out how to move as my vertebrae fuses.

I used my practice of tai chi, understanding of physics and physiology to respect my limitations for months leading up to the surgery.  The form gave me an opportunity to explore and understand the rhythm of nerve conduction from my back into the butt, down the leg, and across the foot to the big toe. Slight misalignments sparked the pain while the simplest adjustment relieved it.  When I was unable to move within the form, I used my practice of mindfulness and intent from the Taoist arts to help me relax and maintain as much functionality as possible.  The practice of mindfulness emerging from decades of tai chi enabled me to perform my regular activities at work and home as I got into the drug cycle.  As my situation deteriorated, my understanding of the spiritual aspects of tai chi helped me take support when needed.  I allowed family and friends to help me here and there.  I didn’t feel bad, or at least too bad, when I had to take time to rest, sit down or nap in the midst of getting Thanksgiving dinner to a bunch of guests.  I used the practical nature of the art form to build supporting devices like a stool with rollers to keep me cooking for the family.  I used damn near every opportunity to learn just as we do when practicing the Taoist arts.

Tai chi is more than fifteen minutes of movement.  It is a way of moving and relaxing with all movement and thoughts throughout the day. When the sciatic flared up, the tai chi form became something I was unable to perform.  My tai chi practice became what it needed to.  I learned from my condition and worked within my constraints to retain as much heath as possible.  However, towards the end of the year, my movements became so restricted there were few options.  Life is movement and thus my life was disappearing out from under me.  I used the meditative aspects of tai chi to maintain my center and not get lost in the misery and suffering of pain or the side effects of the significant medications.  Pain, disability and addiction are amazing teachers.  And herein lies the art of tai chi.  Opening ourselves what Master Moy told us, “to learn tai chi from anyone, even those who do not do tai chi.”  Furthermore like the originator of tai chi did, Chang Seng-Feng, it is up to us to observe the nature of things, learn what we can, and most importantly apply it to our practice.  Learning from our environment both internal and external and applying what we learn daily is the essence of tai chi.


Side note: I almost called this post “Suffering 8mm” but looking back any suffering along the way were stepping stones of discovery.  Focusing on suffering is not the way or at least that’s not my experience of the Tao.  

Learning

After doing something for more than twenty years, things are “easy.”  And if, after two decades, you are not learning from yourself and your observations of your environment, you haven’t progressed past being a beginner.  This is true of martial arts, a marriage or a career.  It’s up to us to apply what we learn every day, moment to moment.

Idea for Continuing Class

Mrs. Kwan, who worked with Mr. Moy and taught Tai Chi, Lok Hup, and Hsing-I, once commented about doing the “series of four” of Brush Knees, Monkeys, Cloud Hands and Parting Mane  when a cold is coming on. It gets the circulation going well.  So can a hundred Dan-yus.  What if you combined them and added other repetitive moves?

Whether you practice Taoist Tai Chi, Fung Loy Kok Taoist Tai Chi, other internal or external arts the principle is the same.  Interspersing a repetitive move with a foundation exercise is a power house to get things moving.  Relative to Taoist Tai Chi, you can start with 18 Dan-yus. That’s not so bad.  Then do a row of Strum the Pei Pa followed by 18 Dan-yus; Brush Knee & 18 Dan-yus; Repulse Monkey & Dan-yus; Cloud Hands & Dan-yus; and Parting Horse’s Mane & Dan-yus.  Depending on how fast you perform the movements and how long the rows are, the  circulation will be pumping in 10-30 minutes.  In that time is 108 Dan-yus plus a lot of repetitive movements. It’s excellent to see how quickly people can fall into the stillness of the movements.   If used as a warm up for the form or foundations, you can utilize the circulation to share details of the movements that normally get shared in workshop settings.

If you’re on your own keeping your practice going without the luxury of time to connect within a class setting, this idea is an excellent opportunity to explore old or newer corrections within different movements.

Enjoy

“New” Understanding

I came across an article that explains how movement decreases stress, how our core strength relates to our posture and effects our ability to relax.  This is something I heard years ago and echoes with the idea of “Movement is Life.”  In different ways, every workshop in the Taoist Arts had some slant on this idea.

In the terms of the article at The Atlantic, A New Understanding of How Movement Decreases Stress, the thought is as follows.

“How we move, think, and feel have an impact on the stress response through real neural connections.”

 

How to Relax in Tai Chi Practice

“Relaxation is not a procedure, it is the result of practice.” I’d like to add to this excellent repost that relaxation emerges from the relationship between mind and body and more specifically moving with the dynamic tension present in every moment.

Internal Wudang Martial Arts

Anyone who wishes to master an activity must first understand its tools and rules. In internal martial art practice, the tools are not material objects but concepts, and the rules governing mental rather than physical performance only.
In Tai Chi practice, in order to achieve a high level of understanding and mastery of this art, practitioners should understand what the determiner of maintaining a relaxed manner in any single movement. These important aspects are mental state, physical condition and related coordination between the mind, breath and movements, including dynamic motion and static posture.

Relaxation is not a procedure, it is the result of practice. Therefore to relax, the posture and the movement have to be correctly performed according to Tai Chi principle. One of the golden-rules in Tai Chi practice is: “fast, but not mass; slow, but not pausing; light, but not floppy; sinking, but not stiff.” It indicates…

View original post 199 more words