Question EVERYTHING

Do not believe in anything simply because you have heard it. Do not believe in anything simply because it is spoken and rumored by many. Do not believe in anything simply because it is found written in your religious books. Do not believe in anything merely on the authority of your teachers and elders. Do not believe in traditions because they have been handed down for many generations. But after observation and analysis, when you find that anything agrees with reason and is conducive to the good and benefit of one and all, then accept it and live up to it.

– Source: InsideAwake – Do Not Believe in Anything

Wow.. such a great quote! One of my key take aways from the above quote is the following line: “But after observation and analysis, when you find that anything agrees with reason and is conducive to the good and benefit of one and all, then accept it and live up to it.”

Does this not go against some of the things handed down via the taiji tradition? Are we not supposed to just practice, do what the teacher says, and have faith that what we are doing will produce the desired results? How often do we ask “WHY?” in or own training? Why do I care which way my dantien rotates during said movement? Why do I care which path my qi will follow during said movement?

How much do we observer and analyze our own training methods? Are they aligned with our goals? Hmm…

Assuming Intelligent Opponents

When looking at applications in general, I’ve been taught we are to assume our opponent is intelligent and a trained fighter. What this usually means is not getting these “one-off” applications executed on folks.  Sure, it’s might cool to think that I could drop and immobilize an opponent with 1 hit, but I know that’s likely not true.

Taiji is said to counter hardness with it’s softness. It was the art used to counter the ‘external’ martial artists of the day, not your average untrained fighter, though it should be applicable to those too! This is why I really enjoy watching some of the application work of Chen Zhonghua. In the explanations of the applications, he outlines what a “smart” opponent would do. How a “smart” opponent would try to take advantage of certain body positions.

 

URL: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zUDNr8v7eRI

In a recent post on Emptyflower Forum, Early Chen Style Forms, RJ noted:

There are many types and levels of application punching, throwing, qinna, basic, advanced, etc.  Hong’s (or Chen’s) priority seemed to have been what made TJQ unique, the control applications used in push hands.

as one compares Hong’s form to other forms to ask if the difference from Hong’s form is due to trying to hide the “real” application as was common in many MAs or does the variation represent a different type of application?  A lot of Hong’s variation from today’s Chen forms is that he uses less basic qinna and focuses more on overall control and attack.

Based on what I’ve seen of Hong’s application work via Chen Zhonghua, I would have to agree. I’ve encountered similar teachings via the Wai Lun Choi camp. When working on the applications of the 12 animals of Liuhebafa (LHBF) system, we assume an intelligent opponent, not one that will be taken out with one hit, but one who has trained in martial arts and will know how to deflect, sink, evade, attack, etc.  The goal, upon contact with an opponent, is to control the opponent. By controlling someone’s elbow, I can affect their shoulder and in turn, their torso and body.

I then ran across a clip of Mike Patterson demonstrating some Chen taiji applications. In his video, he also assumes he’s dealing with a “smart” opponent.

 

URL: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sLi9XiNxDy8

There Are No Secrets?

Since I was young, I’ve always seen those kungfu movies where a student happens upon a ‘secret scroll’. After reading the scroll, he is able to execute the most fatal, unbeatable technique that no one can counter. When I began to explore taiji, I often read accounts of masters being able to effortlessly deflect and project someone with the slightest movement of their body. There has to be a secret in that, no?

Early on, I happened upon a book titled, There Are No Secrets.  We then hear accounts of how a master, upon his deathbed, wrote down a ‘secret passage’ on a piece of paper to a tending student. After the master had passed, the student read the paper and it said, “Practice. Practice. Practice.”

Now we have videos of instructors explaining the intricacies of the art and show their applications.  Even with all of this, I still continue to look for the infamous “Li Kong Jin” or empty-long-distance force, the ‘death touch’ of taijiquan. Have I been watching too many old school kungfu movies?

In a interview with Mah Yueliang (Wu Jianquan style master), he states:

There’s no mystique in taijiquan.  What’s difficult is the perseverance.  It took me 10 years to discover my qi, but 30 years to learn how to use it!  Once you see the benefit, you won’t want to stop. 

10 years to discover this qi! Wow.. I’ve often heard stories of how it takes close to 6 years for someone to begin to understand the basics in taiji. All this rambling is just more backing that I have a very long road ahead of me. The perseverance is truly difficult!

Wushu Taiji Training

My first exposure to taiji was via the wushu taiji variant. This is the more commonly seen 24 form, 48 form, 42 International Competition Routine, etc etc. A lot of traditionalist will dismiss the wushu taiji for their focus on aesthetics, however their training methods are nothing to scoff at.

Formosa Neijia outlined some training methods of wushu taiji medalist, Gao Jia-min:

  • Extended Mabu (horse stance) Training
  • Zhan Zhuang (standing meditation)

Are these the things we often equate with contemporary wushu taiji? In general, not likely. However, having quite a bit of exposure to this style/variant, I’d like to share my own experiences.

My first exposure to zhan zhuang was via a wushu taiji instructor. His instructor was a visiting professor from China. He expected his taiji class to do about 40 mins or so of zhan zhuang PRIOR to the beginning of class! Note, this is coming from a instructor that mainly taught the 24-form, 48-form, 42 competition set and 32 sword form. If this is not hardcore zhan zhuang training, I’m not sure what is!

Fast forward a couple of years, I moved to another state and found taiji instruction offered by a medalist in wushu taiji. She had gotten medals from both China and Korea, IIRC. I remember the first class I had with her, the warm up consisted of some light jogging, cycles of stance training (bow, mabu, crossed leg, cat stance, single leg) and zhan zhuang. After the warm-up we did a bit of the 24-form and then she had us run taiji kick drills up and down the whole length of the room! When I say taiji kick drills, I mean doing the kick in such a way that it was VERY SLOW and the toes were near nose height. In between each kick, we did low bow stance transitions. It was quite gruesome and not very fun, but quite a work out. At the end of class, she had us do some jumping jacks, push ups and situps! I’m not joking as this is not something I would equate with taiji training.

After a couple or so months in this class, I was invited to attend a free Saturday training session in a nearby park.  I thought, sure, it would be fun to do some taiji around trees and such. I arrived at the park around 8am and was surprised to also see the wushu and taiji folks out there. The head wushu instructor came up to us and said, “Are you ready?” They all nodded, so I nodded along with them. He then just took off jogging. I thought, cool, a light jog in the morning air, but then I noticed he was taking us into the woods. Oh, man.. this is NOT going to be a light jog…

My thoughts of a light jog turned out to be like a 4 mile trek through the woods. THIS WAS NOT EASY and I felt that I would collapse at times! The jog consisted of winding paths and steep hills. It took probably close to 20 mins of jogging before we reached a little shelter in the middle of the woods. The instructor knew I was winded and walked over to me with a little grin and said, “So, you having fun?” I nodded yes and then told him this is not what I expected for a ‘taiji workout’. He then told me how he placed utmost importance on the health of the body and that our bodies must be healthy for us to truly reap the rewards of martial arts. He then yelled to the group, “Let’s Go” and we headed back the way we came…

After reaching the open area of the park, we split into our groups. Taiji folks headed to an open field, while the wushu folks headed to an area near the woods. We then spent the next couple of hours drilling forms, holding stances, drilling postures. Drills, Drills, Drills. It was like training under strict military order with little to no downtime.

The Saturday training session finished around noon. We all gathered together for some plum tea the instructors brought along. We chatted it up for a bit before heading our separate ways. Needless to say, I woke up the next day in a world of hurt from all muscles I had since forgotten.

[edited 2/16/07] In my post, I failed to mention that after about 3 months of training, I decided to leave the wushu-taiji school. One of the main reasons I decided to leave is because the training felt more like a physical education class than a martial art taijiquan class.  In addition, when I further inquired as to why go so low in stances, the answer I often got was “because it looks good”. Furthermore, when I inquired about the application to “White snake flicks its tongue” (similar to a reverse repulse monkey), I was told:

“There are really no martial applications in taiji.  Can you really expect to use ‘part wild horse’s mane’ in a self defense application? The martial aspects are just abstract”

Needless to say, I felt as if a knife had stabbed me in the heart.  It felt as if all the principles and theories that taiji was developed upon was tossed out the door in favor of performance. I told the instructor that I believed taiji postures could be applied martially with adequate training in sensitivity and the development of internal energy. The instructor walked away.

The following week, before the beginning of class, I approached the instructor, did the kungfu ‘hand-fist’ bow, and said that I would not be continuing my taiji training. When the instructor inquired as to the reason, I simply said, “This is just not the right school for me”. I paid my respects and thanked the instructor for the training I had received.