Finding Power and Strength – A Taoist Tai Chi Experience

Photo credit: Flashfix (http://www.flickr.com/photos/flashfix/)

Have you ever watched a tiger pounce? The first thing they do is crouch low. Then they settle, orient themselves and finally spring forward with incredible power and strength. Even house cats do it, which is fun to watch.

This past spring I attended a Taoist Tai Chi program for youth whose main theme with the movements was that very concept: developing a strong tiger. That is, opening the hip area so that everything can drop down and finding those drops / dan yus everywhere, especially in toryus in and out of the set.

The most eye-opening application for me was in ward off monkey. It’s a movement that I’ve always struggled with. It’s pretty much consistently been my least favourite movement of the set since the beginning. I was even at a week-long program once where the instruction on ward off monkey gave me sharp pain deep in my abdomen and the instructor couldn’t figure out why. This time around it worked out much better; for once I’m actually excited to do them!!

I also enjoyed working on push hands and partnered snakes as well as getting a chance to watch others try rolls and butterfly snakes. It seems to me that the flexibility needed to do most of that is just a different kind of strength and I’m still able to work on developing that tiger through them.

It was exhilarating, but also a lot of work. Even one of the instructors at the end of the weekend commented that we went deeper into movements than he normally does. The more tired we are though, the more we seem to laugh. I found myself spontaneously smiling while doing the set by the end of the weekend, such great energy!

Tai chi is rarely ever just about the movements though and strength is more than just physical strength. The weekend also reminded me of the strength that comes from being part of a larger community. It seems like so many of my friends and family lack that sense of community, and yet strong communities provide so many benefits. In the Taoist Tai Chi community we help each other, even if it’s just by having people to talk to and socialize with. It helps keep me in the present and lifts my spirit. I have the feeling that I’m contributing to something that’s real and meaningful, not abstract. It’s not only that I benefit from participating and volunteering where I can, I’m also helping the community as a whole grow and prosper.

We took some time to talk about how to encourage more youth to join. All of us could identify with being the youngest in a class by 20 or 30 years, and as much as I do enjoy the company of people senior to me, I think we can all agree it’s nice to see people closer to your own age as well. It helps inspire youth to join the community if they see other youth doing it, but it’s a bit of a chicken and egg dilemma. Plus, if there are so few youth now, who will be the leaders in 20 or 30 years?

So we talked for awhile about how to attract more youth to tai chi. We talked about how much of the news coverage for tai chi – even on youtube! – is geared towards seniors. Either there are few younger people in the photos and videos, or the topic is how it helps with balance, aging, etc. – not topics that would inspire the average 20-50 year old to give it a try. We talked about what first attracted us to tai chi and why we keep coming back: the community, stress reduction, better concentration, meditation in motion isn’t boring like seated meditation, and it’s good cross training for snowboarding because it improves balance. We also talked about how youth aren’t immune to health problems. Often people assume that youth aren’t in it for their immediate health, but my medical conditions worsen so fast without the tai chi that I wouldn’t be able to function without it (i.e. I wouldn’t be able to maintain a job or reliably do things like get groceries and feed myself, let alone have any kind of social life.) But my favourite reason for trying tai chi that I heard that weekend was a couple who made their beginner class a date night and then got hooked.

There were a couple of ideas suggested on how to get youth to stay once they’ve tried it. One idea was to follow-up individually with them. If there’s a program coming up, talk to them about it. Call them if you have to! Arrange carpooling, get a whole group together, and make it fun. The other big idea is also a revival of an old classic: make the locations more child-friendly. Many in the under-50 set have children, so have an area where parents can bring their kids and take turns having one parent (or a volunteer “tai chi grandparent” or an older child) watch them while the others practice tai chi. That’s the way it used to be here years ago some say; so many children playing games with each other and becoming “tai chi cousins.” It adds extra life and energy to the environment. The idea also reminds me of the organized chaos I loved so much on one of my last visits to the International Centre.

Something that helps manage the chaos is that it feels like home to each of us no matter which location we’re in. The chairs and dishes are similar, the way we cook and clean is consistent, the schedule is the same, and the layout of everything in general is familiar, even if (like me that weekend) you’re walking into a location you’ve never been to before. It’s subtle and I don’t even know how much of it is on purpose, but it gives us all that common foundation to understand what’s happening and what to do, even if there’s a language barrier.

Language was the reason I was a little nervous going into it this time. The weekend was entirely in French and I’m an anglophone. I am bilingual but I had never been in a fully immersive French environment like that where many don’t speak English much if at all and everyone speaks French. I have a much greater appreciation now for what it must be like for the francophones who don’t often speak English to be at a program that’s predominantly in English. I started out shaky, lacking a bit of confidence, but quickly hit my stride (thanks to years of French “immersion” in school). By the end of the weekend though the extra mental strain was taking a toll and I was making mistakes in both languages. Ah well, another lesson in flexibility for me. I’m so grateful to have such a strong community to be a part of that those gaffs don’t really matter.

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Learning to Trust – A Taoist Tai Chi Experience Part 3 of 3

Day 5

I dragged myself out of bed this morning to catch the very last minutes of breakfast. I’m loving this week, but it’s also been my most intense week long program to date and it’s taking its toll.

It’s having positive results too though; starting tai chi this morning my chest has miraculously opened up overnight! I can turn my hands back in the chest opening foundation exercise comfortably (a major barometer for me on how my chest is doing.) I am also hearing and feeling small cracks in my chest when doing the movements, particularly at the bottom of dan yus. That seems like a rather odd time for my chest to be cracking, but I’ll take it.

I’m still getting quickly out of breath, my heart starts racing and I get dizzy with dan yus, so I can’t do too many at a time and I don’t push it. The ones I do feel the most relaxed in a long time.

Even after sleeping in, I’m exhausted so I sleep after lunch. I made it to the afternoon practice, but sat out half the time and then left at break to go back to sleep. I end up sleeping through dinner, but that’s okay, I brought my own gluten, dairy and egg free cereal and snacks just in case. I rely on those instead of bothering the kitchen right as they’re cleaning up.

The weather has been phenomenal all week; cool overnight, not too hot at midday, clear skies. It’s a beautiful evening and I take some time to enjoy it before joining everyone else for the last half of the evening practice. It’s incredible that we’re almost done with today’s practice and we’ve only got tomorrow morning’s practice left for the week. As usual, this week has been flying by! The only parts that go slowly are when we’re doing 5 minutes or more of dan yus!

We worked on wave hands and it feels fantastic. My small group feels very fortunate that the program leader spent so much time with our group. The group leader commented on the redness in my hands and cheeks – you can tell my Chi is moving!

I realize today that the theme of the week for me is trust. Not just trust in the form, trust in life, trust in others and trust that things will work out better by letting them fall into place than anyone could’ve planned. The Tao has trouble working when people try to direct it in a pre-planned path. For one small example, the small groups were determined by a random count off and yet I couldn’t have selected a better group if I had interviewed every participant myself and decided who I wanted in my group. And I know I’m not in the only small group who feels that way. I also find coming to the centre, people that can help you on your journey just happen to show up at the right time, completely unplanned. For the first time I’ve had the feeling that not only have I benefited from these guardian angels and witnessed others benefit from that kind of happenstance, I’ve also felt like I may have fulfilled that role for one or two other people here. I’m in awe.

“Some people think it’s holding on that makes one strong – sometimes it’s letting go.” ~Proverb

Day 6

I have a reoccurring dream where I’m running from something or someone. What I’m running from constantly changes and sometimes I don’t even know what I’m running from, what matters more is the running and associated fear. Last night I had one of those dreams except for the first time I stopped after awhile and faced the stranger I was running from. It turned out to be all a misunderstanding but the conversation still devolved in me starting to run again, which is when I woke up. Perhaps this is a sign of progress? It’s been years since I’ve put much stock into interpreting dreams, but this is a big enough change to grab my attention. I’ve had this dream countless times over many years and have never once attempted to face the fear before.

Doing tai chi on this last day feels so different from the first day. It’s much less effort, a lot more open and relaxed. Quieter too, I’m not thinking as much. I still feel tight spots here and there, things to keep working on, but there will always be more things to work on. Right now I’m trying not to think about that and just enjoy.

One of the leaders was taking photos and video of our last set of foundation exercises together. She showed us a couple of clips of our karaoke dan yus afterwards and it looked great! I don’t know what they are planning to do with it, but who knows, maybe if they post it to youtube it will go viral. Unlikely, but we can always hope. 🙂

One of the songs we sang this week goes, “Make new friends, but keep the old! One is silver and the other is gold.” I like that, it seems so fitting for tai chi. A member of my small group had the idea to get a group photo – I can’t remember the last time I was smiling so much for a photo! Grinning ear to ear! The group was so much fun, lots of laughter, it’s only fitting that the photos reflect that.

It’s sad to see everyone leaving, especially since it never feels like a forever goodbye when it’s tai chi people. More like, “Until the next time we see each other, although I have no clue when or if that next time will be.” I’m not always good with goodbyes and I’m having trouble with it today so I wander away to be on my own for a bit after the initial exodus. Most people are leaving around lunch, but my husband and I are taking a more relaxed approach and not leaving until the morning. This is the time to digest the week, let it sink in and just be in this peaceful state. There will be plenty of time over the coming days to return to the busyness of everyday life and I’m in no hurry to get there.

People have been realizing at different times that my husband and I are married, which is to be expected. We’re not spending every moment next to each other. This whole week we’ve only sat at the same table for a meal once, and even then spent half the time in separate conversations. We have been talking a lot in our room, but otherwise we’ve given each other room to socialize with others, so people aren’t seeing us together much at all. On one hand I’m really happy that he finally came for a week and it’s nice to see the changes in him, but on the other hand I’m not used to someone talking my ear off in the room at the beginning and ending of each day. That’s usually my time for quiet reflection or simply rest, having him there is a completely different energy. Not necessary bad, just different.

My husband has been getting so much praise for coming for a week long program after only three months and for his tai chi to already be at the level it is, he’s learning so fast! I’m really happy for him and very excited that he has taken to it so well, but it also makes me realize that I’m now past the phase of being able to claim newbie status. I got that kind of recognition for good form so early too, but eventually comments on my tai chi have become less in relation to how long I’ve been doing tai chi and more about what I’m doing in that moment.

As an extension of this thought, I’ve come to the conclusion that I can’t take on being an instructor quite yet. It’s not that my form isn’t ready it’s that I still have too much on my emotional plate and taking on extra responsibility would break me. I am barely keeping up my own practice, teaching right now would almost guarantee a downward spiral in that and then I wouldn’t be helping anyone. It’s hard to admit. I often pride myself in being something of a Renaissance woman. I feel such a desire to be superwoman and I want to help so much, which is precisely how I got in this state.

Another reflection on praise is how I heard someone was looking for me once this week but didn’t know my name. Instead he was asking for “the tall pretty girl.” I hope to remain tall, but just like recognition for being a star beginner fades, getting called “the pretty girl” will fade as well. I see as many role models here for aging gracefully as I do for being gloriously quirky; they are and will continue to be my inspirations.

It’s easy to imagine myself as one of those tai chi seniors one day. It’s certainly a more comforting image than some of the alternatives! I’ve seen tai chi time and time again help people maintain their independence, mobility and dignity in their later years. Keeping moving and having community are both so important and tai chi offers both. Due to illness, I already have experience with losing both.

A limp can lead to using a cane, which can quickly turn into a walker then a wheelchair. It’s not impossible to move in the opposite direction – I’ve done it and I’ve seen others do it too – but it’s incredibly difficult. Nursing homes I’m told have plenty of residents who are there simply because of mobility issues. I can also speak from personal experience that the less mobility you have, the fewer opportunities you have for positive social interaction. And yet it’s regular reinforcement that will give you strength and desire to keep trying. I like one woman’s idea this week; she brings her dogs to nursing homes to help cheer them up. That’s one way to help!

It is sad being one of the last ones left at the end of a program. Even though I haven’t gone anywhere it feels so different being here without everyone else who made this week what it was. Everywhere I go I’m reminded of the new friends I’ve made and I already miss them. I regret not giving more hugs, I owe them an extra one the next time I see them. In the meantime I have to trust that they know how genuine those connections really are.

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Learning to Trust – A Taoist Tai Chi Experience Part 2 of 3

 

Photo credit: Flashfix (http://www.flickr.com/photos/flashfix/)

Day 3

I was so tired last night I wasn’t sure if I’d make it to chanting this morning as originally planned. Thankfully I woke up early and couldn’t have gotten back to sleep if I wanted to – I had a very deep sleep and hardly moved in the night like I usually do. So I went and was glad I did, I’ve missed that part of practice. I did become dizzy before the end and had to sit back perched on the balls of my feet with me knees on the stool for the last few pages, but it was so nice to be there and participate for what I could.

It’s morning practice now and I’m still getting dizzy easily. My low back is also stiff to start out, a sign that I worked hard yesterday! By lunch my back is fine again. I find I have to consciously keep my hands, arms and shoulders very soft though because I’m getting pain deep within my shoulder otherwise. It’s remarkable to me what a difference it makes to just relax, there’s so much pain if I don’t relax but none at all if I do.

I guess today is my rough day because I crashed about 2:30. I’m irritable, in a brain fog and tired in both mind and body. I lay down for a quick nap, expecting to still make it to the 3p.m. practice, but I end up not getting up again until 6, still irritable and even more in a brain fog. Dinner conversation helps me start to get out of it though. Closing the Columbarium brings me the rest of the way out of the irritability and it seems my brain is starting to work again. It occurs to me that the dizziness may be my low blood pressure acting up again; maybe I should be adding table salt to my meals.

It’s remarkable how much of a difference it makes to figure out what the problem might be and have a plan of action! Without even changing anything else I feel so much better. I go to the evening class and my tai chi is so much more relaxed; I’m even able to keep up with 15 minutes of karaoke “happy hour” dan yus.

Something else I’m starting to get a little more relaxed about is missing practice. My husband has taken a very relaxed approach to attending practice; he’s been aiming to attend only two of the three practices a day. Perhaps as a relative beginner that’s a smart thing to do, but his attitude has been driving me nuts and I’ll admit to catching myself nagging him about it. This is such an incredible opportunity to work on the tai chi, why on Earth would anyone miss a practice unless they absolutely have to?! Where’s the dedication?

Every time I’ve done a week long program I’ve had to sit out at least one practice and every time I’ve sat out it’s been a stressful decision accompanied by guilt and feeling sorry for myself. This time around when that guilt hits I can’t help but think of my husband’s peace with his stamina and I think maybe I can learn from his example. I still want to do as much as I can, but at least I can be more forgiving of myself and stop pressuring him to do more. The nagging just causes unnecessary stress and friction, and who am I letting down if I take much needed rest? It gave my fellow small group members a chance to help me catch up on what I missed, which no doubt helped them understand and remember it better themselves too. And it certainly helped with team bonding!

Day 4

If yesterday was my irritable and fatigued day, today has begun as my emotional day. It seems I’ve relaxed enough for all my stress and fears to come out and get released, in the form of crying during morning break. I’m so strong so much of the time – I feel like I have to be – but even I need to let it out eventually. My group leader has helped me talk through some of it and is helping me make sure I take care of myself, such as rest when I need to and keep the tai chi relaxed and happy. Our program leader has also taken an interest in following up on me, I’m so grateful.

Someone today commented to me that we all tend to be intimidated by the program leaders, but it’s really only our projection on him or her, not that he or she is actually intimidating. I have yet to meet someone in Taoist Tai Chi who actually has an intimidating personality or demeanor. I’m reminded of another program leader who once talked about how it can be lonely being the leader because people don’t come up to talk to them in the same way during breaks and meals.

In any case, after releasing the tears my tai chi feels so much softer and that softness lasted right through the rest of the day. I’m not afraid to drop.

I’m having other trouble though with my breath, such as wheezing, and dan yus are setting off a racing heart. I take many breaks and then eventually sit out. I mentioned the earlier dizziness in passing to someone and they made a connection that it may be a sudden increase in circulation. Maybe that’s what the lung and heart symptoms are linked to as well. I’ve always had very poor circulation; my hands are frequently mini icicles, I wear long johns pretty much every day from September to April whether outside or inside and I always have trouble doing blood work. I’ve even been advised more than once not to attempt donating blood because my circulation / pulse is too slow and faint for them to get the needed amount of blood out in the prescribed amount of time. Needless to say I could benefit from increased circulation! And that’s exactly one of the benefits of chanting and tai chi. I suppose I need to be gentle with my body though, the symptoms tell me I’m doing too much at once.

As you have probably figured out by now, I’m pretty good at analyzing things. Being an analyst is in fact my day job. Usually my challenge with tai chi is to turn off that analytical brain when I’m doing the movements, but there have been a few occasions this week already where it actually seems to come in handy. Our program leader has been getting us to observe a lot, either observe him demonstrate or observe the group leaders demonstrate. When we’ve returned to our small groups to work and discuss what we’ve seen, I seem to have developed a knack for seeing the differences. A couple of times our small group leader has asked us to watch each other and provide feedback, I seem to have a knack for that too. I never really noticed this ability before and it gives me greater confidence that I’d be a good instructor someday. I have been thinking of starting as a beginner instructor in September.

Today I got recognized from a youtube video for the first time at the centre; last Fall I was interviewed on my experience with the Health Recovery Program and the interview was published to youtube a few months later. Most people don’t seem to know about it or have very little to say on it, I’m certainly not used to being recognized by strangers for it! I am glad that people are watching and appreciating that interview series though and it proved to be an excellent conversation starter.

I know I’ve said it before, but it truly is beautiful how easy it is to connect with people here. Sometimes I feel like we lose our humanity a little in everyday life where we can’t be bothered to take the time to sit with a stranger (or even a friend!) and have a genuine conversation.

I’m already starting to share my e-mail with people I’ve met here; I don’t want to risk missing someone in the last minute scramble on the last day. Staying connected with the people in some capacity, no matter how infrequently, helps me stay connected to the feeling of this experience and connected with the community as a whole.

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Learning to Trust – A Taoist Tai Chi Experience Part 1 of 3

Day 1

It’s been a stressful and emotional last few months and I’m looking forward to spending the next 5 days here at the International Taoist Tai Chi Centre  (http://www.taoist.org/international-centre-programs) for the Summer Tai Chi Program. I’ve brought my husband with me this time. I’ve been doing tai chi for two and a half years now and this is my fifth week-long program at the centre, but this is his first time and I’m nervous about how he’ll take to it. We’re off to a good start though; he’s blown away by the grounds and is excited to start the tai chi tomorrow. His reaction reminds me of my first time (https://timewellspentblog.wordpress.com/2012/05/17/healing-the-tai-chi-way-part-1/).

We’ve arrived after dinner so once we’ve settled into our room it’s already getting dark. There’s only enough light for a peaceful walk over to the Columbarium. As we get there I realize that I’ve forgotten how exactly to give an offering, but no matter, I try my best and it’s the intention that matters most anyway.

Back in our room, he settles in to bed seemingly full of excitement for tomorrow. I’m still mostly anxious and totally unsure how this week will go. I have confidence that I’ll get out of it exactly what I need. I’m just not sure what I need.

Day 2

The program has started; we do a set then some foundation exercises and all of a sudden I’m struck by emotion. I’m tearful and I don’t know why. Not long afterwards, the emotions reverse and I’m totally joyful for no apparent reason. Our small group leader even remarks on how much I’m smiling and enjoying it. So when someone in the group has a breakthrough moment and begins tearing up while talking about it, I understand how she feels. Not only can I relate with her breakthrough, the emotional release of this environment is familiar territory for me. This is a safe place to let it out and the tai chi itself helps bring out anything I’ve been holding on to. The inexplicable shifts I can’t explain are almost confusing. Overall the tai chi has a mellowing affect, but somehow I can’t yet imagine these outbursts stopping completely, it has become part of the experience for me.

Emotions aren’t the only thing coming out, for some reason I keep yawning! Not during breaks or meals though, only when doing the movements. It reminds me of someone I know who is constantly either yawning or hiccupping when doing tai chi. This time I’m told it’s because the tai chi relaxes us. In this context it’s more of a complement to the instructor than not because it means the tai chi is working on something.

After dinner I decide to take a peaceful walk to the Columbarium and stumble across a great opportunity to learn how to close it (it’s opened every morning and closed every evening.) I walk back with one of my spontaneous guides and we end up talking about death, grief, living without regrets and how lessons from the physical tai chi translate into life outside of doing the physical movements. Pretty deep stuff. We even muse about how health is a moving target; there’s no such thing as “good health” any more than perfect tai chi, it’s all relative and we’re all just trying to be better than we were.

Near the end of the conversation I talked about an option I have at work called leave with income averaging that would facilitate me taking a few weeks off work every year to volunteer at the centre. It would mean a pay cut certainly, and that takes a leap of faith, but in the context of living without regrets it’s a thrilling thought.

In the evening practice I hit a rough spot. We’re working on dan yus and I start tensing up, causing pain in my shoulders, neck and back. I’m also told that I’m not going down centred, that I’m favouring the side that had a long-since healed injury. The program leader came over to help me with it and it turns out to be all mental. I just need to relax and trust the form. This is much easier said than done, fear keeps creeping in. This is not even the first time I’ve faced this particular demon, I seem to have to face it every time I come back to tai chi after slacking for a few weeks. One person in my small group in particular though seemed to benefit from watching me work through it. I’d almost rather not to have struggled except that I know I’ll appreciate it more this way and (more importantly to me right now) I see how much it benefits her too to see me work through it.

Wow: tears, yawning, potentially morbid conversation and performance anxiety – sounds like a great time doesn’t it? It actually has been a good day; these are just the things that stick out in my mind that I’ve learned from. What I actually think of most when I think about today is the laughing, smiling and connecting with others, mostly through one-on-one deep meaningful conversation. It’s so safe to open up to people here in a way that’s so effortless compared to everyday life.

With the pace of this program, already it feels like it’s been a week since my lunchtime conversations. As I go to bed I’m thinking about how much I’m looking forward to closing the Columbarium tomorrow night and putting my new skills to work.

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Feeling the Connections Part 3 of 3

(continued from last post)

Day 6

After sleeping so much the first few days, the last couple of nights I’ve woken up early. I’m still yawning when I wake up but I’m alert and can’t sleep anymore. This never happens to me, I’m usually the Queen of going back to sleep all the way to noon if I can. And unless there’s a crisis or some big meeting at work or something, I’m never fully alert until at least a couple of hours after I wake up (neither coffer nor non-herbal tea agree with me so I rely on my body waking up naturally.) The change in sleeping I think is from the tai chi; it’s energized me. It took awhile for me to fall asleep last night because I was so energized, and that’s even after spending an hour and a half writing, which normally calms my brain down. I never have trouble falling asleep! Seriously, I nearly always fall asleep in under 10 minutes, just ask my husband.

Some might think trouble falling asleep and waking up early to be a change for the worse, but it actually feels like a change for the better. Like something has clicked and I don’t need to sleep as much as I used to, at least for now. We’ll see if I swallow my words with a nap this afternoon. I don’t really want to nap though, this is the last full day we have together, and nearly everyone will scatter to the winds tomorrow afternoon. I’d like to spend the afternoon talking more with my new friends. But we’ll see what the day brings, you never really know what to expect here! (In a good way.)

Speaking of chaos, I’ve noticed that the closer we get to the end of the program the more unstructured time we’re having. I call it unstructured but in a way it’s also highly organized, it just looks chaotic. What’s happening is you’ve got a couple of people over there working on a movement, a small group over here working on something else, a couple of rows of yet another something else over there, a couple of people at the bars and so on. At least five if not more entirely different things happening all in the same space at the same time. But somehow it works well. It seems to allow for more one-on-one attention that way and everyone is working on something that is really helping them in that moment.

We also seem to spend more time watching each other as more and more people have personal breakthroughs to share. For example, a woman who’s had a problem with her ankle for three years has learned a new way of going up and down stairs that is helping it. For the first time in three years she now believes that with continued practice she will once again be able to regain full mobility of her ankle. As someone who has suffered mobility issues and overcome them as well, I can appreciate how powerful that change of hope can be, We don’t need to have personal experience with it to read the result plain as day on her face; she’s simply glowing. When asked if she can show us, her demonstration inspires two others who have difficulty with stairs to try it in front of everyone and at least one more to try it later once everyone else was back to the organized chaos.

Later, someone else has a breakthrough with another movement; one that she was concerned was hurting her damaged knee. If it was hurting it before, it certainly isn’t now because she’s doing them beautifully.

Then there was one of our Parkinson’s participants who managed to push out her hands. That might not sound impressive, but it actually was considering she had limited range when she arrived and the movement was coordinated with some fancy footwork.

In the afternoon we get the chance to document some of what we’ve learned and what we’d like to remember to keep working on. It’s hard to narrow the list down to just a few things to work on for the next 100 days, but there’s a lot of laughing going on anyway! Maybe it’s the laughter that I should be writing down.

It’s hard for me to believe it’s the last night and it’s time for summing up already. It doesn’t feel like it’s the last night because as usual it’s gone by so fast! It’s also because I’m staying an extra night to avoid driving tired or in the dark so I’ve got a little longer to say, “Until next time!” to this place. But I don’t have any extra time to say the same to the people and I always find the parting sad.

We finished off the day working on the first section of the set together and we’re all so tired and relaxed that it feels like what I imagine sleep walking would feel like. The best kind of sleep walking mind you, no holding on to tension, on automatic, and in this case applying all that we’ve been working on this week as if it’s second nature. Of course it isn’t quite second nature yet and that moment can’t ever really be repeated exactly as it happened because part of what made it magical was the group itself. All in tune with each other and all relaxed. I love when that happens.

Day 7

It may be the last day, but that doesn’t mean it’s too late to learn anything new. We do go through a review of all the foundations we worked on (all except snake) and work on each again in our small groups. It’s that small group work that quickly unravelled into one-on-one work where the epiphanies tend to happen. One of the assistants helped me with something I didn’t realize I was doing. Apparently he’s been looking for the chance to say something to me about it all week! I’m glad he finally had the chance because the small change helps. I got a little help from one of the instructors on my dan yu as well. It seems to me that this small group stuff is really effective. Everyone takes breaks when they need to, everyone has the chance to watch and everyone has the chance to do movements with a greater probability of getting attention.

The morning flies by as usual. The closing speeches are short and the red envelope is presented. Before we know it we’re all saying goodbye to each other. There are kisses on the cheek, hugs of all kinds and even one man who has a tendency to take a woman’s hand and kiss it the old fashioned way. I realize after the busyness has settled that there’s a handful that I missed saying goodbye to; I owe them an extra hug the next time I see them.

I’ve said before that groups who do a health recovery week together may be strangers at the beginning but feel like family by the end. For me this has been especially true of this time. They’ve seen me do movements with tears of release in my eyes, they’ve seen me holding my own with good form and they’ve seen me on a bad day, prompting playful teasing about being an old lady. I’ve had meaningful conversations with just about everyone here this time. Perhaps part of it is all of us getting away from our normal busyness, but for whatever combination of reasons, the touching and connecting moments that are so rare in everyday life happen so readily here. It’s a beautiful thing.

It’s been a great week. A lot has happened! I’m exhausted from it all and take a nap. My mind is clearer when I wake up. At supper there’s only six of us left and I discover one of them is celebrating his birthday today! We celebrate with cake then say our goodbyes to the two who are leaving at 3a.m.

There’s a regular continuing class tonight, but I decide I’m not up for it. Instead I go for a walk on the grounds. It’s so beautiful here at night and I feel like being alone in the peacefulness for a bit. I visit the columbarium and offer incense in gratitude. Sitting on the steps of the columbarium the stars are gorgeous. It makes me reflect on how I don’t ever see many stars living in a city and I’d forgotten how much I miss them.

You know in Taoist teachings the stars have significance. They are generally thought of as the homes of gods and there seems to be a number of stories and customs involving stars. When looking at the stars it’s easy for me to feel humble and connected to the universe and to everything in it. Perhaps it’s that feeling that Taoism is capturing and it’s so hard to appreciate living in the city where you don’t get to see the stars quite so often.

That feeling of connectedness I think captures a lot of what I’ve experienced this week. It’s a multi-dimensional thing. There’s connectedness within the body between all the various parts and connectedness between the mind and body (the fact that I include this shows I come from a Western culture because in Eastern culture there was never a separation between mind and body to begin with.) There’s also connectedness with each other, all the individuals who did the program with me but also the Taoist Tai Chi^TM community as a whole. And then of course there’s a spiritual connection, which is a side of this practice that I’m only now beginning to explore. I heard this week that Master Moy once said that Westerners spend too much time in our heads and not enough time doing. That thought has resonated with me this week, particularly as it relates to spiritual practice.

I’m so very grateful for having the opportunity to come here and I’m already planning my next trip back.

This might be a good time to point out that the health recovery program is open to everyone, whether you’ve done tai chi before or not. More details are available on the Fung Loy Kok Institute of Taoism website and more testimonials are posted through the International Taoist Tai Chi Society’s ITTCS youtube account.

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Feeling the Connections Part 2 of 3

(continued from last post)

Day 4

My period started this morning with a vengeance a few days early – damn. It’s been a long time (several months if not a year) since I’ve had a period this bad. Plus I was really hoping for something different this time: this is now the third time in a row that I’ll spend the majority of my time here on my period. At this point I’m starting to get the feeling that the universe is conspiring to make it happen for some reason. Not only does this mean I won’t be able to chant in the temple again until my next visit (menstruating women are not to enter the temple), but the cramps are so bad this morning I will have to sit out the morning at least.

Today is a big day too because it’s Health Recovery Day. It’s the day that 160 or so others come to do tai chi with us. There are only 29 of us doing the whole week, so it’s quite the jump in size. Those of us who are staying the week have been asked to play host to our guests, but I’m not up for being a hostess today at all. I woke up early and lay in bed for four hours not able to do anything but breathe. I was in too much pain to sleep, no position was comfortable, but some were worse than others. Sitting up was out of the question as was standing. I tried getting up once because I heard voices and wanted to tell someone that I wouldn’t make it to the morning session so they wouldn’t worry. By the time I made it to the hall ten feet from my bed they were gone and it took me 30 minutes to recover from the attempt. Around the time when everyone else was starting their tai chi practice, I finally fell back asleep and I don’t know if it was from exhaustion or the pain had finally subsided to a tolerable enough level.

Lunch was my breakfast. I wasn’t feeling very social but had good conversation anyway. I went for a walk with my grandmother after lunch because I’d reached the stage of slow walking being a good thing instead of excruciating. Sitting without reclining is still on the unthinkable list. Standing up and sitting down is difficult, so once I’m standing I want to stay standing.

I did join the group for the afternoon session, but only to watch at first. In two hours I managed three rows of brush knees, except none of them were full rows because I had to go so slowly that I’d be interrupted each time about halfway for more group instruction. And yet because of all my difficulty I think that was two of the most productive hours of tai chi I’ve had in a long time.

For one thing I got to sit and watch a large group. This is hard to put delicately, but one thing I noticed is that there were so many that were having so much difficulty with the form that it looked like they were going to hurt themselves. My first thought was to wonder how instructors prioritize! Everywhere you looked there was something to suggest. (Note that I did happen to be at the back where a lot of people who are self-conscious tend to hide, so it wasn’t actually a good representation of the group.) It made me appreciate the importance of the student approaching the teacher with a question or concern. I have a habit of not speaking up when something’s bothering me. I tend to try to work it out on my own and wait for the instructor to notice or else I wait for a convenient opportunity to raise it. The thing is there aren’t always convenient opportunities. I feel like I’ve been getting better about speaking up and I think watching the group has made me even more likely to speak up.

It was really interesting to watch for a second reason. You know how when you see someone execute something well and it looks so easy? That’s nice and all, but you know sometimes it’s really hard to see the differences between how they do it and you do it even though you know there’s a giant chasm between you in skill level. When you see someone doing it in a way that’s less mesmerizing though the inner critic leaps into motion and it’s so easy to identify everything they’re doing “wrong” and how they “should be” doing it. I use the quotation marks because it may not be as wrong as the observer thinks, they may be focusing on something more important for their body, their body may not have opened and relaxed far enough to allow for anything different, or they may be adjusting for some injury or illness you don’t know about. I found most “wrong” things I noticed were either things that I know I have a tendency to do too or things that got me to stop and wonder, “I am doing that too?” Watching them told me more about me than it told me about them.

When I finally get up there myself I return to the basics. I know that I can’t do the part we call “sitting” because of my heavy flow and cramps, but that doesn’t mean I can’t do everything else I’ve been working on the past few days. So that’s what I do. And you know what? I discover that all it took was a couple of adjustments and it feels fantastic, almost as if I wasn’t trying to work around a debilitating pain. I’m sure plenty of people watching me from the peanut gallery must’ve been thinking, “Oh poor girl! Look how she’s doing it wrong!” Or, “Don’t make her do anymore, it looks exhausting doing it like that!” And there were a small handful of people who stopped to ask if I was alright. But it really did feel great and liberating! Yes I did have to sit down for breaks because my energies are down, but I was fully capable of adjusting to my body in that moment and that’s all that matters. My body will be different tomorrow and tomorrow I’ll be able to adjust to that, and seek guidance from instructors when I need it.

I’m so excited by this discovery that I have what was perhaps a fortunate lapse in judgement. When the instructor asks what people have discovered, I raise my hand only to suddenly remember as he approached me with the microphone that I hate microphones and I hate speaking in front of large audiences. Oh well, too late now! So I say my piece and I’ve since had a handful of wonderful follow-up conversations with people who appreciated that I said it. All as it was meant to be I suppose.

I was talking to someone today about accepting whatever comes your way, especially while here. Maybe I wouldn’t have chosen for my period to fall so hard while here, but I wouldn’t have learned what I have already if it hadn’t of happened like that. Whatever happens, it just means you learn different things, not that the week is shot and you might as well go home.

I heard a couple of women talking about a man who had suffered a brain injury and how they are glad they aren’t him. They feel sorry for him and feel bad watching him struggle to move. I happen to know this man a little, enough to know that he’s one of the kindest and most caring people out there and his sense of humour is more than alive and well. He is constantly making jokes, laughing and cheering up everyone else. I’ve seen him go in the last couple of years from a wheelchair, to a walker and now to a cane that he doesn’t even use all the time. When I see him walk without his cane, I see a miracle. It may not be as pretty or easy looking as it is to watch someone else walk, but to me it’s better. I guess it all depends how you look at it.

Day 5

Today was a fantastic day! I woke up feeling like I was over the worst of the period pain and before breakfast I even read another chapter of A Path of Dual Cultivation: Teachings of the Fung Loy Kok Institute of Taoism. I’m having a weird hair day (something about the way I slept is making a section stick straight out so I do an up do instead), but if that’s the worst of my problems I’m doing pretty good.

Morning tai chi session is the moment of truth about how stiff I am from yesterday. My midsection unsurprisingly has all but locked up, so I focus on gently opening it up with the movements all morning. It’s a delicate balance between good pain and bad pain, but I feel I managed it well. Because we seem to like elastic analogies around here, my analogy is that the elastic representing my waist has been frozen and I need to stretch it to build up the heat to thaw it out, but only a little at a time and gently enough so it doesn’t snap. Snapping in this case would mean triggering it to really lock up and become all that much more difficult to open up. It’s painful and I take more breaks than usual, but I’m working with deep stuff and it’s powerful so it doesn’t take much. The breaks even seem to be just as important as the work; each time I come back it’s as if tiny spirits were working non-stop during the break to clean up the internal mess that’s preventing me from relaxing that region.

By the afternoon I’m feeling pretty much back to my old self. The timing couldn’t have been better because we have a couple of visitors today who are filming for some promotional material. I’m humbled and honoured to be one of the few people asked to give an interview. I didn’t realize at first though that it would also involved some close up afternoon filming of me doing the movements! Good thing I had worked so hard to relax everything in the morning, just in time. I don’t feel like I was necessarily at my best, but I’m happy with it. And you know there’s nothing quite like having a camera less than a foot from your face to get you to smile while playing tai chi! I won’t forget that feeling of looking like I enjoy it. 😉 (We do really enjoy it, but sometimes our faces look too serious.) Nevertheless, I’m glad I wasn’t the only one being filmed and I can’t wait to watch the final result.

In the midst of all the excitement over cameras, we all laid witness to an epiphany moment by our 88 year old fellow participant who uses a walker. She discovered that not only could she stand upright (as opposed to hunched over her walker); she was able to walk just fine using the parallel bars as a safety net. There was no pain and no structural reason to need the walker. What this means is that with continued practice, there’s no reason why she couldn’t ditch the walker and regain more independence. She will have muscles that have been unused, compressed or stretched for so long that will need the practice to rediscover their intended uses, but most of the practice is simply to gain confidence. The joy and hope in her eyes and in her laughter speaks volumes. These are the very precious moments to savour and remember.

(to be continued)

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Feeling the Connections Part 1 of 3

Day 1

I’ve arrived for another health recovery program at the International Taoist Tai Chi Society’s International Centre in Orangeville, Ontario, Canada. For the second year in a row I’ve come with my mother-in-law and grandmother, it’s becoming a new family tradition of the best kind! It seems we aren’t the only ones that are getting into a routine, I’ve counted nine others that were here the same week as us last year. There are only 29 of us participants and assistants, so the 12 of us returning represent more than a third of the people.

It’s Dr. Bruce McFarlane and Kim Girard who are our instructors this time. In his opening talk, Bruce marvelled at how there’s always at least one participant who comes to the program without ever having done tai chi before. Those brave souls inspire the rest of us. I remember very well the leap of faith it took for me to come the first time, but at least I had been doing it for a couple of months at that point. It’s incredible to me to see others coming even sooner. A leap like what I did or any of the others who came early seems to require either lack of access to a health recovery class at home or an almost desperate need for health recovery, sometimes both.

Another element of Bruce’s opening was to think during the week of what we learn that has helped us so much that we want to practice it for 100 days afterwards. It doesn’t have to be 100 days exactly, but the idea is to practice for a long enough time in close succession right after feeling it for it to become habit and retain the feeling. This concept actually corresponds with the book of a psychologist that I’ve been reading lately. Will power alone is like a human trying to drag an elephant; no matter how disciplined or enthusiastic you are, you’d better find a better way to persuade the elephant to go in the direction you want before you hurt yourself trying to do it with force. Habit-forming by repeating an action (not a thought) directly after an epiphany moment is one of the alternatives to force of will power.

The first night wasn’t all just talk, we did a full class worth of tai chi and by the time I’m switching my tai chi shoes for my outdoor boots I’m struck by my sweat footprint on the tile floor. I’ve had high arches all my life, the kind whose footprint doesn’t show that anything connects the pad of the foot to the heel. I noticed for the first time that the sweat marks now show a healthy arch. It’s a sign of getting all the weight in my foot like I’m supposed to, it really stretches and relaxes my foot. I remember how I used to get painful spasms up my legs starting from my foot and realize that I don’t get that anymore.

Another thing I’m quickly reminded of here is how much practicing my French has become a big part of my experiences at the centre. So much so that I thought ahead to schedule my French language tests at work within two weeks of coming back. It makes me want to look into workshops being held in Quebec. I’d like to see what it would be like to be immersed in French with a little English, rather than predominantly English with far more French than I’m used to thrown into the mix. I’ve been reminded how difficult it is for me to switch back and forth between English and French; I start losing words in both languages! In French I remember words for things like “kindergarten” but can’t think of words like “pull.” In English – my first language I feel I need to remind myself – I call a window a mirror.

But I digress. Writing in the evening is the prefect way to calm my mind after so much excitement today. No doubt I’ll sleep well tonight.

It’s only taken my fourth week long program here in two years for arriving to feel like coming home.

Day 2

I woke up this morning with my head bothering me with a bad headache so I skipped chanting and slept in. I ended up sleeping through breakfast. Ah well, I brought my own cereal and a few other things just in case and when I woke up the second time my headache wasn’t quite as bad as the first time, so it was worth it.

Starting tai chi though I was only able to get through one set before having to sit out most of the morning session because I was feeling light headed, dizzy and faint. That combined with the lingering headache was far too reminiscent of when I collapsed a few months ago, so I know better this time not to push it.

I remember last year something else forced me to sit out for a good chunk of the first day and I was upset by it and tried to stubbornly keep going anyway. The feeling of, “Dang it! I’d been looking forward to coming here for this so long, I’m not going to just sit here!” This time I’m pleased to notice that I’m more relaxed about it. I’ve got all week, there’s no hurry to push myself beyond what’s reasonable.

I have a tough moment though when I do join in for a bit and someone comes up to me to joke about being, “So serious!” Well yeah, I’m in pain! It’s not his fault, he was just trying to lighten the mood, I just get emotional with this kind of thing. A funnier moment balances it out. Someone else came up to me to say, “Don’t think of the back foot.” “I didn’t realize I was. What’s it doing? Okay, now I’m thinking of it.” lol

I had extra salt at lunch (these symptoms may be a sign of low blood pressure for me), put an ice pack on my head for a half hour and have a nap in the afternoon. I’m better enough to participate gently for most of the afternoon session and I’m rewarded with a light bulb moment. It’s one of those discoveries to try to incorporate daily for the next 100 days.

Supper brings more of the needed salt with more needed ice and rest afterwards. By the evening session I’m pretty much back to normal and only holding back a couple of times out of caution rather than real need. I have another two light bulbs go off – things that feel so good and “right” doing it the new way that I can’t believe I haven’t been doing it like that this whole time.

Another thing that feels good is the walk back on the path to the meditation suites (and my bed). It’s a beautiful clear night and the air is crisp, but so fresh.

Day 3

I woke up feeling better today, not only did I make it to breakfast, I even made it to morning chanting! The weather is beautiful – extremely mild for November in Ontario is putting it lightly – but it’s allowing everyone to go for walks and enjoy our peaceful (if windy) surroundings.

I found it difficult to focus on the tai chi this morning and I felt like curling up with a book instead. But there will be time for that later so I go and it seems I wasn’t the only one a little body-tired because we did a lot of talking. One of the lead assistants told us his story of how tai chi has helped him. A story of spine problems, lost feeling in arms, lots of pain, arthritis at a very young age and even a wheelchair – the story is even more remarkable because now looking at him move you would never guess he’s lived through all that! So graceful, soft, yet strong. It’s inspirational.

I suppose I needed that inspiration a little later in the day as I worked through a movement that is difficult and sometimes painful for me. It’s incredible how, particularly in tai chi, things come to you just as you need them. Just in time guidance. I’ve discovered more about my body through working on that movement and it proved to be an ice breaker for me in the small group I was working in, but I may have continued with it longer than I should’ve. My headache is back by mid-afternoon and I make sure to apply an ice pack to my head again after supper.

It’s Remembrance Day today, as I write this in the evening it feels like such a long time ago that we did a silent standing meditation in remembrance.

(to be continued)

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All it takes is a jade tree and a lot of volunteers!

When Taoist Tai Chi™ first came to Ottawa in 1977 we were given a small jade tree that is now so big it takes at least three people spreading their arms to encircle it. It’s not just the tree that has grown these past 35 years; the branch has gone from about 20 people in one rented space to more than 600 members across 10 locations, including an owned building that boosts a commercial kitchen. In this case the jade tree’s fabled ability to bring prosperity, sharing and friendship seem to have done the trick! It is no wonder then that to celebrate 35 years in Ottawa it was the jade tree that was selected as the theme to represent the branch.

Celebrations began September 8 when a public demo was planned in downtown Ottawa and Gatineau with a playing dragon to attract the crowds. A thunderstorm with severe rainfall cancelled the outdoor plans, but that did not stop us from gathering for a barbeque at our head office location! There was food, speeches, demos of each set, a slide show of photos chronicling our branch history and of course our jade tree on display. That evening we also started building a new jade tree; branches were drawn on our mirrors and green paper leaves were taped onto them. On each leaf a member wrote how tai chi benefits them. Reading the leaves tells an incredible story; members have written everything from tai chi giving them strength and a sense of community to the reason they can breath, walk and be pain-free. It is no wonder the branch has grown!

The following weekend the dragon and a bus load of members made the trip to one of our newest locations in Cornwall to continue the celebrations and perhaps grow the branch even more with public demos of the sets.

At our banquet on September 28 we had guest public officials, more speeches and musical entertainment, not to mention the six-course meal masterfully prepared by volunteers. Orchestrating such an event requires many volunteers coming together, willing to share their time and develop new or deeper friendships to bring prosperity to the group. It takes more than a jade tree; it takes a jade tree and a lot of volunteers! The event was a success and a great opportunity to get to know each other better.

Our two-day national workshop starting the next day gave us the opportunity to meet even more friends, new and old, and continue sharing with each other. There were 107 of us being led in a review of some of the material from this year’s Continuing Instructor Training week. We did foundation exercises as well as wave hands, the kicks sequence, parting wild horse’s mane and fair lady works shuttles – plenty to keep us occupied! We spent much of the time working in small groups, which gave each of us the opportunity to receive individual suggestions as well as learn by observing others.

For me this led to a breakthrough on my don yus: for the first time ever I did don yus with my thighs parallel to the floor. Considering I was using a cane to walk due to a reoccurring knee injury a little less than two years ago, that was quite remarkable! It is perhaps a spin on the old observation that it is sometimes easier for someone else to see what’s not working right in the tai chi than the person doing the tai chi. In my case I’ve been ill or injured for so many periods of my life that I sometimes miss the opportunities where I’m perfectly fine and don’t need to hold back. Sometimes I need someone there to encourage me to go for it. I’ll admit I was out of breath when I stopped, but it felt so good! A feeling that is hard to describe in words but is somewhere in the neighbourhood of opening and relaxing further. Over the next couple of days I still had no pain, but it did feel as if the insides of my abdomen had a much-needed vigorous workout!

As usual, not all of the weekend was hard work. In fact, it seemed to me there was a fun youthful energy to the entire weekend. Plenty of opportunities for tai chi humour, such as using “the right foot at the right time… sometimes it’s the left foot.” Other times the humour is even drier, such as the infamous question and answer, “What about breathing?” “Yes. That’s a good idea. Do that.” This time around in my small group the answer to a different question was, “Face the wall until you don’t.” The answer got more than a few chuckles!

The atmosphere is relaxed especially during break times and the quality of conversations never ceases to impress. Everything from careers, weddings and families to stories about our community history and personal affirmations of the benefits of tai chi. A few times the health recovery program was talked about with quick highlights of some of the incredible transformations that have taken place, such as arriving in a wheelchair and leaving it behind when they left a week later. These are always touching reminders of some of the reasons we come together to play tai chi and contribute to the growth of the Fung Loy Kok Institute of Taoism. [To read my story, see Healing the Tai Chi Way.]

Everyone is welcome and we do our best to accommodate, from ramps and handicapped washrooms, to food restrictions and scent free environments and even to adjusting the lighting to prevent a migraine. Whether the person is brand new or has been with the community for over 30 years. Because as we have learned, it’s not just about helping ourselves, it’s also about helping others and giving thanks for the opportunity to help. Sharing, growing friendships and developing prosperity, just like our jade tree. Here’s to 35 years of Taoist Tai Chi™ in Ottawa and many more to come!

[EDIT: This article has since been re-posted to the Tiger’s Mouth blog, along with more photos! Check it out here: http://ittcs.wordpress.com/2012/11/14/a-jade-tree-grows-and-grows-ottawa-celebrates-35-years/]

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Not on My Own – A Story Inspired by Tai Chi

I’ve just finished another week long Taoist Tai Chi Health Recovery Program (http://www.taoist.org/workshops-and-events/health-recovery-programs/). The first time I did one of these retreats was transformational (https://timewellspentblog.wordpress.com/2012/05/17/healing-the-tai-chi-way-part-1/). This second time wasn’t quite as Earth shattering for me, but nevertheless spectacular. Spectacular in part because I was blessed with witnessing a few other people’s transformations and in part from my own continued evolution.

The week starts on a Friday night, everyone arrives and there’s about 40 of us – remembering names and a bit about each person is a test of memory greater than any I ever had in school! But this is a fantastic group – as all Taoist Tai Chi Society groups are I’ve discovered – the word that describes the society the best for me is “kind”. For instance, if you don’t remember a person’s name or where they’re from, it’s not a problem, there’s plenty of opportunity to ask again!

There’s a man in his 90s that came; he’s the comic relief to an extent and he has such a light heart it’s inspiring. This man has lived through war and yet can still play with people over funny ways to eat fruit; it’s remarkable.

There’s a woman in her 80s who came barely able to move around with her walker, eat meals and generally be independent because she was so bent over and in pain. By the end of the week she was able to both sit and stand up straight with her shoulders down and level. She could even bring her hand up to her chest again without pain!

There are some truly remarkable people and some true transformations that I feel blessed to have witnessed. Beginners have the advantage here; they have less to unlearn.

On the Monday, nearly 200 tai chi friends came to join us for a health recovery day and we got to hear more such stories. From arthritic attacks to post polio to cancer side effects to my own story about fatigue, nausea, and knee and chest pain (I omitted talk of endometriosis and related for the sake of time: https://timewellspentblog.wordpress.com/2012/05/21/chronic-pain-in-women-my-story/).

One of the skills we were asked to develop this week was observation. It was in the area of observing other people’s tai chi, but nevertheless I discovered that it’s much easier to observe what’s there instead of what’s missing.

For instance, not everyone is here for some physical ailment, some come for the mental aspect – relieving stress, calming the mind and so on. That is no less important or spectacular in my opinion, but perhaps even more difficult to talk about so we don’t hear those stories very much.

Another observation was that everything is really all the same when we get down to it. The movements are more similar than they are different; whatever you’re working on in one move you can work on in all the others for the most part. More than that, for all the differences we have as people, from language to age to health issues to occupation and much more, at the core we are all more similar than we are different.

One of the assistant instructors talked about the experience of trying to help someone and not knowing any other way to help besides having a good heart to offer. And that alone can be enough; just being there for someone. That is in fact one of the three characteristics I’m told of a good instructor: patience, perseverance and a good heart.

A beginner asked me recently if instructors get a price discount on member, workshop and program fees. Assists do happen to get a discount for this program, but the usual answer is no. Teaching is the reward for teaching. I heard it from everyone and have experienced it for myself too: the teacher learns far more from the students than the students learn from the teacher. That concept I find is not often acknowledged. In a sense, maybe the instructors should pay extra for the privilege to teach! But then sadly we would probably run short of people willing to pay to teach and not have enough teachers.

Something else I got out of this week was being pushed outside my comfort zone, whether by speaking French, leading a set, trying the movements in a different way, working out a correction in front of the whole group, co-leading chanting (a totally optional opportunity at these retreats) or giving my testimony of how Taoist Tai Chi has helped me using a microphone in front of 250 of my closest friends, many of whom I’ve not met (those of you practicing Taoist Tai Chi will understand that last bit). Amazing things can happen when you let yourself be outside your comfort zone and not freak out about it. Everything from meeting new friends, gaining confidence, improving your health and inspiring others to do the same.

I have a new way to measure success in tai chi: the person with the best tai chi is the one getting the most benefit. What a great thought. I’ve had a chance to reflect on how blessed I am to have had so many health struggles. It has forced me to slow down, figure out what’s important to me. Pain can be the greatest teacher they say. Without pain it’s easy to continue doing something that’s bad for you and develop habits that are hard to break. Not only has figuring out good habits for myself helped me, it gives me a greater appreciation of other people’s struggles and an ability to empathize. That’s a priceless gift to both myself and those I can help.

Since coming back from the retreat, I’ve had a number of people tell me I’m glowing. I find it interesting that people can see the difference because for me many of the changes I feel are small internal shifts that I would think aren’t visible to anyone but me. The change in feeling that I’m not surprised is visible to others though is that I’m now more relaxed, comfortable and just generally eager to have more fun with tai chi. Not just ‘do’ tai chi, not just ‘practice’ tai chi, but play tai chi.

Remember the woman in her 80s? By the end of the week she was laughing and smiling like you wouldn’t believe was possible on day 1. An interesting point that was raised is that decreased mobility besides causing physical pain can also cause something much worse: social isolation and a corresponding decrease in laughter.

I’d like to hold on to that feeling of being part of a group, a bigger picture with a bigger purpose than just me on my own with only my own ambitions. That’s a beautiful feeling.

(Originally posted in November 2011 on Your Second Fifty online magazine)

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Life Lessons from Tai Chi

I find myself getting frustrated some days with tai chi. Whenever I get frustrated, it’s always for the same reason; I want someone else to do the work for me. That’s what we are conditioned to expect. Have a problem? Go see someone who’s going to give you a pill, massage your aching body, zap it, stick needles in it, pamper it, provide your mind with answers it wants, do something that will transform you. It’s always someone else doing the work.

But when you realize that you’re the one that has to use your muscles to release the tension or you’re the one who has to piece together what’s wrong, it can feel like being cheated. Like everyone else seems to have other people solving their problems, why do I have to work for my improvements? Shouldn’t there be something quick and easy that’s going to solve everything?

One of my tai chi instructors keeps saying to the class, “You’ve got to do the work.” That’s true. It’s a bitch, but it’s true. The person/patient who does the work reaps the rewards. That doesn’t make it easy though.

Maybe some of this can be explained by our common desire to be viewed as being successful, having it all together, being happy and not having anything bothering or upsetting us in our life. It’s the ideal that’s for sure. The family portraits of the happy couple with two and a half happy kids that’s so iconic in pop culture says it all.

Of course no one has a “perfect” life, there’s no such thing. Life isn’t meant to be perfect, that’s not how we grow, learn or enjoy and experience life. Perhaps the myth of a perfect life is causing more problems than it’s inspiring dreams. It causes us to mask our struggles from others and maybe even try to fool ourselves. Not that we should be dwelling on negatives, but if we’re led to believe that “perfect” is possible, we may never be happy with what we have. We also may not realize the hard work it takes to reach our goals or may never learn to enjoy the imperfections and just relax and enjoy.

“Being happy doesn’t mean that everything is perfect. It means that you’ve decided to look beyond the imperfections.”
~Unknown

I’m reminded of someone I know who works about 60 hours a week in a high stress job and has two young kids that are highly active in extracurricular activities. Yet she still expects of herself that she will keep the massive garden that came with her house weed-free. Come on now. You can’t expect yourself to do everything!! That’s just setting yourself up for failure and a constant feeling of coming up short and all the stress that comes with that.

Another tai chi instructor said once, “Practice makes better.” When the class chuckled and someone said, “Isn’t it supposed to be, ‘Practice makes perfect’?” He smiled and said, “I didn’t want to give anyone false hope.” We all laughed because by now this is the perpetual running joke: everyone is forever a student when it comes to tai chi. You can be doing it for decades and still be discovering new things. The learning never ends, there is no final destination. There are thousands of different ways to do a toryu.

I’m told Master Moy Lin-shin was once asked which is the best toryu of all the many variants he taught. His response? “You have to try them all to find out.” The only perfect toryu is the one you’re doing right now, because you’re doing it.

In tai chi, there are many instructions that get repeated time and time again because they are applicable to everything. Get into you feet (so that your foundation is strong), everything is connected, relax, stay soft, enjoy.

What if some of that advice is also applicable to life in general? If the only perfect positive action is the one you’re doing right now, because you’re doing it. You’ve got to do the work. Practice makes better. Keep your foundation strong. Everything is connected. Relax, stay soft, enjoy.

(Originally posted in June 2011 on Your Second Fifty online magazine)

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