Make Haste Slowly

T’ai Chi can be practiced fast or slow, and if one is in balance the form is basically the same, although when one moves very fast, the form consists of smaller circles, which take less time to execute. Practicing fast can give one a feel for the flow, and helps one to relax and see the big picture.  Practicing slowly allows for more attention to be given to the movements, and can be applied to the precision of the form, accuracy of balance, and general awareness. There is a place for both in the study of T’ai Chi, but usually practicing slowly is the more difficult task, and is the more neglected practice.

 It is suggested that one practice slowly at least some of the time in order to change and improve one’s form. If one practices fast one often moves by habit and likely will repeat the same mistakes each time.  By slowing down and allowing time to see and correct any imperfections in one’s form during practice, the perfecting of one’s form is encouraged and fostered.

If two students study for a math test and one spends fifteen minutes on the task while another studies for three hours, it seems obvious that the one who studies longer will probably benefit more. In simple terms, twelve times the attention can be applied in three hours over a quarter of an hour session, without having to concentrate better or work harder. One doesn’t have to be a rocket scientist or a super athlete to learn T’ai Chi, but like any worthwhile endeavor, an investment of time is usually required.

If one is in balance the form can be done fast or slow. When one is out of balance for parts of the form, if you move fast you pass over these parts by tensing up and usually don’t even notice them.  Try slowing down and they become obvious, sometimes making the movements difficult to perform without falling or at least breaking out of the form. Also, when the balance is good, any movement can be done backwards as well as forward. This is not as feasible when the balance is not good. These “Tells” which can tell you when your balance could be improved, are very useful in improving one’s form.

Some tips to check where the weight is:  

(Weight is usually on the bent leg, and no weight on the straight leg.) If weight is on the front (bent) leg and one turns from the hip, the front knee will remain stationary. If there is some weight on the back leg also, one is “double weighted”, and the front knee will move around as one turns from the hip, in order to adjust for the shifting of the weight between the legs and to keep the knee under the weight as it moves. (If one is balanced on the weighted leg, the weight will not have to shift, and the knee will remain stationary.) Watching this front knee can be useful to rid one’s form of this double weighted condition. 

When the weight is on the back leg, (back leg bent), if one raises the front toe as much as one can, this will take all the weight off the front leg and center the weight over the back leg. Often when “sitting back”, beginning and intermediate practitioners do not always sit back completely and shift all the weight to the back foot before continuing to the next step, and thereby begin the next step slightly out of balance.

Hand position tip:

The form is simplified by adhering to some useful standards, one of which is that the wrists and shoulders are often held at equal height. This helps correct “upper body floating around” problems, as slight unintentional raising and lowering and other movements of the arms as one does the form sometimes shifts a small but significant amount of weight enough to unconsciously change the balance and create unnecessary tensions which can cause dysfunctional resistance to energy flow between body parts (lessening the power of the form).

Not the Resort Course...

If one wishes to enjoy underwater activities without becoming a certified Scuba diver, which requires much work, study, and practice, one can take a “Resort course”- a few hours in a pool with an instructor - after which you are allowed to dive when accompanied by an experienced diver. T’ai Chi is not as dangerous an activity as placing yourself in an environment where you cannot breathe, and no certifications are required. 

Today we have a choice – we can learn to play a few tunes, or we can learn to really play an instrument. 

As T’ai Chi and similar health oriented disciplines become more popular, many offerings today in these fields are sometimes “Watered down”, or “Short forms” of the original teachings. There is a need and a place for such “Light classes", as the considerable benefits should be available to all people, whatever their abilities or commitment level. Access to these principles and practices should be available to those who need and want some benefit, but who don’t have the need or desire to invest the considerable time required to achieve mastery. 

There is also a place for those who would continue a lineage of authentic teachings passed from teacher to student, and further evolved with each generation. Studying for a short while in such a traditional format would accrue the same benefits as that time spent learning a “Short form”, and would begin a more solid foundation for later studies if desired. 

When someone asked if the Chows taught a “Short form” of T’ai Chi, Mr. Chow’s response was “Why would you want to do that?” 

The thought which led me to write this article is that the many people who have started but never completed their serious study of the form have each achieved much in what they have learned. It is not necessary to “Complete the course” in order to accrue benefits, or to utilize what is offered, to whatever amount one finds useful. Indeed I wonder if one ever “Completes the course” of what often becomes a lifetime study. 

It is for each to take what they need, and they should feel good about what they have learned, rather than leave with the idea that they have received an “incomplete” for the course. The purpose in our classes is, as Mr. Chow has said, “So that people can have good health”, and if that goal is furthered, the endeavor should always be considered successful.

Blessings to All,

Daniel

Extra Movement

Even a small shift of a body part weighing only a few ounces requires an adjustment in order to stay in balance, or more commonly, engenders a state of tension, in order to compensate for being out of balance, even slightly. Each extra movement increases tension, and can be dysfunctional far beyond what the size of the movement would suggest, making the difference between a form which exhibits an elegant simplicity and grace, and that which Mr. Chow would sometimes call “Similar to T’ai Chi”.

Attention to detail in this case is very practical, and very functional, and is not merely obsessive. It should be noted here that it is not at all necessary to execute the form perfectly in order to gain the benefits. It is however, extremely profitable to strive to improve one’s form, as exemplified by Mr. Chow’s example of the magnifying glass:

If one places a magnifying glass between the sun and a piece of paper, if it is held at exactly the correct distance, the paper will burst into flame. In a slightly different position the paper will be warmed, but the effect is much less. Indeed, if the glass is positioned in exactly the right place, it will even melt metal.

One place where the application of this concept might prove advantageous is in adhering to the standards – wrists and shoulders often at the same height, knees when bent are bent to the distance of just as far forward as the toes, elbows sinking to a right angle, with room for a hand width between the elbow and the body, and so on. 

Another place is in shifting the weight more fully onto one leg before lifting or moving the other leg. This is useful at all levels – if one is shifting the weight ninety percent, or ninety nine point nine percent, in each case improvement will provide immediately observable benefit to one’s form. When one is balanced on one leg and one turns, it is easy to stay in balance and easy to maintain a relaxed state. If one is what Mrs. Chow called “Double weighted”, as one turns, the weight subtly moves around between the legs and tension is created to adjust for this shifting in the balance, immensely reducing the quality of the relaxed state desired in one’s form.

Dividing for Two Parts

In classes at Chow Studio, Mr. Chow would teach the beginners and Mrs. Chow would teach the advanced students. In Mr. Chow’s form, an observant person might see some very advanced T’ai Chi, and although he didn’t talk about his unique variations of the form, if asked, he sometimes offered an elegant and insightful explication indicative of a sharp awareness of both extreme detail and the big picture, akin to a state the Buddhist Tulku Chogam Trungpa Rimpoche called panoramic awareness. His immaculate form exhibited circles within circles and seemed to follow the energy, although he would sometimes say, in his self depreciating manner, that his form wasn’t perfect like Mrs. Chow’s. It was, however, sometimes in the imperfections that a higher level of teaching might be found. 

Beginners were taught that the angle of the hips and their rotation in the movements, as passed through the spine, shoulders, etc. generated a form in which all the parts worked together in a very efficient manner. As one came into balance and that balance became even finer with the elimination of the myriad extra movements learned by trial and error from prior experience, a far more relaxed state becomes possible. When one is in balance one doesn’t need constant muscle tension to keep from falling over.  At this point (and not before) dividing for two parts, or the internalizing of the form, can have relevance. 

Mrs Chow taught in “Parting the horse’s mane”, and “Fair lady at the shuttles” (before the second round hand), to divide the left and right side of the body so they would be able to move independently, folding and unfolding, adding a whole new layer of subtlety to one’s ability to shift one’s balance. It is out of this concept that a high level of ability in push hands (tusho’) is facilitated. T’ai Chi at this level becomes much more difficult to see for one not ready for this stage, as the movements become more internal, and not so easily observed. Learning becomes more a matter of internal experience than mere observation and copying, as in earlier stages. Although one needs to observe and copy to be able to approach these lessons, this alone isn’t sufficient. As one learns push hands, the skill comes into play through practice.

A Letter to the Chows, December, 1998

                                                                                                            December 5th, 1998

                                                                                                            Miami, Florida

Dear Mr. And Mrs. Chow,

            I wanted to take this opportunity to thank you both for all the wonderful things you have taught me over the years. When I first came to you at your studio on Biscayne Boulevard in July, 1976, it was to learn Tai Chi. This was only a small part of what you have given to me, and all your students. By your examples, we have had role models of integrity, quality, creativity, and most of all, a love of life and what we do.

            Although I wasn't your quickest student, over the years as I learned Tai Chi, I was also learning many other valuable lessons. As my body learned to come into balance, my life did too. From you I learned not only Tai Chi, But to put my heart into what I do. As I did this in my study of Tai Chi, it brought many wonderful things into my life. In the 1970's I met my wife at Mr. Chow's 70th birthday party. Even though that relationship has changed, I have Tai Chi to thank for the birth of my son in March, 1983, which is one of the best things that ever happened to me.

            When I started teaching in 1994, as I taught I found myself sharing the joy that doing what you love brings to one. When I teach I am at my best, and people see this and appreciate this all too rare quality that you have shared with me. It has brought about a transformation of my life. When helping Mr. Chow teach, I was offered my new career in Psychology, which has brought me back to school, to study psychotherapy. When teaching at the Miami Herald I met my girlfriend, with whom I am deeply in love. I now teach at Miami Dade Community College as well, and Tai Chi continues to bring a wonderful community of students into my life. All the best things in my life have come to me out of the lessons learned from you. Again I want to thank you.

            My future career includes teaching Tai Chi for the rest of my life. I also hope to write about Tai Chi. The longer I study, the more I appreciate how much it (and you) have given me. You once told me about how when you came to Miami you knew few people. Over the years you have created community where ever you go. I hope that we your students can follow your example and also spread friendship and community as we go through life. Again, Thank You.

            As Mr. Chow's birthday approaches I would like to wish him a very happy birthday, and of course many many more. In all the years I have known him I have never seen him angry or cross. His patience and encouragement , like Mrs. Chow's patience and strictness, have taught even one like myself, who was not the fastest of students, not just Tai Chi, but all of the things I have mentioned and much, much more.  Mrs. Chow, through the years, has always instilled in her students the highest standards not only in Tai Chi, but in all parts of life. For me, the Chows have been role models of the best that humanity is capable of, and a true inspiration. They are constantly in my prayers, and it is my hope that their teachings have found fertile ground in us, their students, and that we can be a similarly good influence on the world around us as we live our lives.

            Tai Chi Is like handwriting or calligraphy. Each practitioner and each teacher's form is unique, and adds something to what is learned. I have been lucky enough to have not one but two teachers, each of whom has uniquely influenced my life in uncountable ways for the better. My deepest wish is to carry on their tradition and the examples that they have set. Once again, Thank you, Mr. and Mrs.. Chow.

                                                        With Greatest Respect and Admiration,                                                                                                          Your Student and Friend Always,

                                                                        Daniel Zuckerman

Balance & Shifting the Weight

Two of the most important parts of the form are the walk and cloud hands (round hands). In both of them we encounter overtly the principle of shifting the weight, which is just as important in the rest of the form, but not always so obvious. This principle allows beginners to “make sense” of and simplify in their understanding, parts of the form which often seem complicated. The practitioner is shifting the weight, moving from the hips (center), moving the arms and legs, and changing the position of the feet, all in the same movements.

  

In the square form (Chow Chian Chiu), the walk is broken into eight parts for each forward step (Six when walking backwards). Leaving out hand and arm movements drops this to four parts in each forward step (Three parts in each backward step). In its most simple form this can be further reduced to two parts, as follows.

1)      Shift the weight off of one leg and

2)     Move that leg forward (or back). Then

1)      Shift the weight to the other leg and

2)     Move the unweighted leg forward (or back).

Once the difference between “ordinary” walking and T’ai Chi walking is understood, the purpose and obvious “common sense” of shifting the weight while remaining in balance unifies a complicated series of movements into the one, more easily comprehended (and remembered) principle.

When we first learned to walk, it was a scary experience. We learned by raising our foot and starting to fall in the desired direction, then moving our foot out to catch ourselves and keep from falling down. Naturally we tense up to keep from falling and also from the fear of falling. We are out of balance from the time when we start leaning until the foot lands. We still walk this way.

In T’ai Chi, we shift our weight first, with both feet solidly planted, from one foot to the other. We are never out of balance and thus don’t have to tense up to keep from falling. We then shift the foot and leg that have no weight on them, and thus can remain in a state of relaxation while walking.

When we learn the walk in T’ai Chi, it usually takes some time because we are changing a lifetime of habits. This is made even more difficult because although these habits are a less efficient way of moving, they have served us well for all these years, and have kept us from falling down. 

As we change the way we move, we tend to let go of residual tensions associated with fears from the time when we learned to walk. This allows for a new calmness and sanity to appear in many other parts of our lives.

Thoughts on Economy & Synchronization of Movement

When the unnecessary extra movements associated with tension and the residue of past physical and emotional traumas drops away, the essential components of each movement, and their relations to each other, become more apparent. Often the synchronization of two simple movements performs an action which -- when unembedded from the myriad of dysfunctional extra movements we carry from old habits, tensions, injuries, and/or other subtle psychological affectations -- can lend a simple elegance and beauty to our every movement.

 Specific physical examples of both economy and efficiency of movement, and the synchronization of essential movements can and are applied/generalized also to the emotional, intellectual and spiritual components of all our feelings, thoughts and endeavors. 

Each T’ai Chi movement can and does teach by analogy a valuable lesson. These physical “Teaching Stories”, by which we become less dysfunctional and more sane, become part of our repertoire, which we then pass on to others. T’ai Chi can thus be likened to a catalyst, which transforms and crystallizes an entire solution, without being used up in the process.

As balance improves and artifacts of the tension required for out of balance movement drop away, what is left becomes increasingly clear and obvious and this allows us to sharpen the focus of our attention on the more functional aspects of all our activities. This meditative perspective can subtly transform the quality of our lives and that of those around us and all we come in contact with, and by its effect fosters truly spiritual work.