Finer Points
Last night we had our final weekly Tai Chi class of the current session, with the next trimester (or whatever it's called) at Tai Sophia beginning in May. I was grateful to pick up a few of the finer points of Yang-Style form.
(1) Instructor Brad says that when the form is done as intended, motion never stops ... except of course at those points where still meditation, not motion, is what is intended. Pauses between movements, though optionally permissible, are generally not done. When we pause in class, it is for illustrative purposes only.
(2) The hands are usually held so that there is nearly a right angle between the thumb and extended index finger, with the other fingers held loosely apart. There are, of course, specific exceptions such as what the hands do in the Press movement.
(3) There is generally a reason for the seeming oddest motions of the form. The rationale usually has to do with the martial-arts aspect of Tai Chi: hand-to-hand combat. For instance, the hooked hand of Single Whip movement evolved from using that hand to snatch the opponent's hand or arm as he attempts to strike a blow ... as the
other hand moves in such a way so as to seize the underside of the same arm of the opponent. If that maneuver fails, the top of the hooked hand can be used to rap the opponent under his chin, or the pointed fingers can be poked into his eye. Imagine that, the next time you think Tai Chi is just about loveliness!
Of course the form, practiced as a moving meditation, has evolved well beyond assault and battery. For example, the down-pointed toe of White Crane Spreads Wings was originally lifted much higher, in such a way as to strike the opponent's privates. And the heel-down empty steps so often found in the form were at one time kicks at the opponent's legs. To me there is something profound in contemplating how what were at one time purely combat moves can have evolved into a form of ballet.
(4) Brad showed me how the hand motions in Double Ward Off/Press/Push work. From Ward Off, with the hands forward, we sweep the hands down and back, then around, up, and forward again for Press, such that, overall, they describe an oval. Then for Push, the hands go up and back followed by down, forward, and up, such that the oval they describe is the
reverse of the first oval!
It seems to me that this describe-an-oval concept applies to a great many — perhaps all — of the flowing hand motions in Yang-Style Tai Chi. Even the seeming end points of movements are really points at the "narrow end" of (potentially quite flat) ovals.
(5) Brad also clued me in that in general, when there is a seemingly concurrent outward movement of the feet and also of the hands, the step out (or whatever) is done first, and only then is the outward positioning of the hands done. For example, the Double Ward Off Right that follows involves both a foot and hand extension. From Single Ward Off Left we (a) pivot the upper body counterclockwise as we form Hold Chi Ball with the right hand on the bottom; (b) make an empty step forward with the right foot; and
only then (c) bring the hands forward in Ward Off position, as the body's weight comes forward over the right foot.
This has two purposes. In martial arts theory, the empty step is actually a preliminary kick at an opponent's legs before warding off his return blow (see above). In practice, taking a foot-first approach keeps us from lurching too far forward; the planted foot (even with no weight on it) limits how far we will move the hands.
A Status Report
I seem to have reached a stage in my Tai Chi trajectory in which there is not a lot of growth to report.
It is now the Monday after Easter 2005, a weekend which, for this practicing Catholic, furnished a lot of diversions from my now-habitual daily concentration on Tai Chi. Last Thursday — Holy Thursday — was our last of eight classes in this session, though there will actually be a make-up class this coming Thursday because of an earlier snow-out. Then we have over a month off to practice what we have learned. Another 8-wk. session kicks off in early May (May 12, I think, after a "freebie" class on May 5).
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A Morning Cup of Tai Chi |
I gave one of my best friends for her birthday a book by John Bright-Fey called
A Morning Cup of Tai Chi. I myself don't have this book, but it seems like a good one. My friend has a probable knee replacement in her future, so it's not clear how soon she can actually take up Tai Chi, but when and if she does I am convinced it will help her keep her other knee.
I selected this book for her because she has told me she tried taking a Tai Chi class a few years ago and was admonished by the instructor for "not keeping up." That was it for her! She never went back. This book looks like one that will let her proceed at her own pace and not worry about being "too slow."
Which I can definitely relate to myself. I am still having trouble putting together the movements of the form we have learned, mostly because I find their details hard to remember. In last week's class, with main instructor Brad off somewhere on a business trip, his assistant Jeremy took over. There were only four students there, and I got some personal attention and useful advice on how to do the first movements of the form: Embrace the Heavens, Beginning of Tai Chi, Single Ward Off Left (including Hold the Chi Ball), and Double Ward Off Right. It was a big help, and I told Jeremy after class I feel he has an excellent teaching style.
But what with one thing and another, although I have been doing my individual exercises, today has been the first day I've practiced the form since the class four days ago. I found the when I came to White Crane Spreads Wings, the movement following the Single Whip Left-Lift Hand sequence, and preceding the first Brush Knee, I was at a total loss as to how to accomplish it. So I cued up the relevant section in QuickTime Player (having captured it from the DVD using Snapz Pro) and played it over and over, trying to mimic it. It was a good (re)learning technique.
QuickTime Player gives one the ability to bracket any segment of a movie, called a "selection," and play just it. You can loop it to play again and again, even looping backward as well as forward if you choose. What you can't do is play it in slow motion ... unless you use this AppleScript script:
tell application "QuickTime Player"
activate
tell movie 1
play
set rate to 0.5
end tell
end tell
If you can do that, you have all the control over the movie that the DVD Player app gives you, and then some (because of the bracketing and looping capability). I find this is a real good thing. I plan to use the technique a lot in the future.
On another topic, I find that my Tai Chi practice is influencing my posture for the better. Some of this is unconscious, while some of it requires a conscious adjustment on my part. I am adopting the theory that Tai Chi "wants" me to (in the words of a
Tai Chi and Alternative Health magaizne article I have read, "Acupressure Points as Related to Tai Chi") "pluck up the back and sink the chest." In other words, don't stick your chest out, but do "open" your back and lengthen it, as you visualize a golden thread attached to the top of your head pulling your cranium heavenward.
This attachment point, called
bai hui or "Hundred Meetings," is on the front-to-back center line of your skull where it is intersected by a perpendicular line connecting the tops of your ears. In other words, it is far enough back from your forehead that the imaginary tug from the golden thread is not going to lift your chin. It's going to lengthen your back instead, or at least the back of your neck.
In doing this, it helps if you consciously tuck in your chin, releasing, relaxing, and opening the throat. The idea seems to be that adopting the right posture has something to do with Chi circulation: "If you get the posture right, then the Chi is active."
Adopting this posture seems to change my breathing for the better almost automatically ... I breathe more from the belly or
dan tien, less from the chest. And that seems to clear my head and give me a calm sense of well-being.
It also seems to make me
look better. I'm getting some very unaccustomed admiring glances from sweet young things at the mall, in restaurants, etc., these days. I'd hate to tell them what an old fuddy-duddy I am. But I'm also aware that Tai Chi has made my body look more "buff" than it has in years. So I'd say that Tai Chi has a whole lot of little side benefits, in addition to making you healthier in mind, body, and spirit.
The downside is that this posture has not yet become automatic. I have to think, "Remember to lengthen your neck," or something like that, or I find I lapse back into my usual "wrong" posture. Also, it isn't easy to stay in an unaccustomed posture for a long time, even with conscious effort. The muscles eventually rebel. Again, this is something that will improve only with perseverance.
My Tai Chi Form (Part IV)
This post is a continuation of
My Tai Chi Form (Part III). In it I cover another segment of Yang-Style Long Form. This is the fourth and final segment of the first of the form's six parts as we are being taught them in class.
My Tai Chi Form (Part III)
(This was originally posted on Friday, March 18, 2005. I have altered the date to group all my "My Tai Chi Form" posts together.)
This post is a continuation of
My Tai Chi Form (Part I) and
My Tai Chi Form (Part II).
Last night was the next-to-last of our eight weekly Tai Chi classes in the current term at Tai Sophia Institute, located near Columbia, Maryland. Good news: our instructor, Brad, finally came up with DVDs for many of us (but not yet all of us), showing (among other things) himself doing the first of the six sections of Yang Style Long Form as we are being taught it. It will be quite a help to me in trying to visualize exactly how the movements flow together.
Along these lines, Brad says the form we are learning has six sections, of which the first is all that we are studying in this class. He says the second and fifth sections are almost entirely identical, and furthermore that there is a lot of repetition of the movements we are learning in the remaining sectionss. So the beginner learning I'm doing now would seem to be a bigger step up than will be required later, if I want to go on to learn the rest of the form.
The bulk of last night's lesson concerned a segment of the form's first section that was new to me. After the Single Whip Left movement with which I ended Part II comes one called Strum the Lute (or Play the Guitar). Then there's a transitional move (its name is one I don't know) that we haven't really covered yet. Then there is a sequence of movements highlighted by several repetitions of something called Brush Knee, to one side or the other, interspersed with a brief move called (I believe) Crane Takes Flight. It was that sequence which we did over and over last night.
(In what follows, I'm going to adopt the strategy of describing the
direction of movement with respect to a clockface. 12 o'clock is the forward direction as the form begins. 3 o'clock is 90° to its right. 9 o'clock is 90° to its left, and so on. Also, the numbers I assign to the various movements and patterns take up where my previous posts left off, at movement 9. Finally, the images I show are from the DVD. The guy doing the Tai Chi is my able instructor, Brad.)
(This was originally posted on Friday, March 11, 2005. I have altered the date to group all my "My Tai Chi Form" posts together.)
Herein I extend what I began in
My Tai Chi Form (Part I). My intention is to continue documenting the initial moves of the Yang-Style Long Tai Chi Form we are learning in class. When I left off, I was up to movement/position 4, the
Double Ward Off Right, in which the weight is positioned mostly on the forward (right) foot, with the right knee bent and the trailing (left) leg somewhat straighter. The hands are raised, palms outward, with the right hand up at shoulder level and the left hand behind it at chest level.
(This was originally posted on Friday, March 11, 2005. I have altered the date to group all my "My Tai Chi Form" posts together.)
Yesterday in Tai Chi class I felt I took a step up in capability. I was actually able to
do the movements in the Tai Chi form we are being taught.
This morning

I am attempting to overcome the problem I have with
remembering the sequence of movements on the following day. To aid me, I am using books on Tai Chi. In addition to two books I have already mentioned in earlier posts,
Step-by-Step Tai Chi and
The Dao of Taijiquan, I am using Wong Kiew Kit's
The Complete Book of Tai Chi Chuan: A Comprehensive Guide to the Principles and Practice.
I will abbreviate the first book as SBS, the second as DOT, and the third as TCC.
My Buns and Tai Chi
Today I basically took the day off from Tai Chi, although I did manage to practice the form some. Instead, I took a 2.25-mile walk around my hilly neighborhood. Over the last 15 years I've done the route a thousand times ... literally. This was the first time I felt like I had wings on my heels. I thank Tai Chi for that.
Not only that, but my body felt way different. Like a well-oiled machine, I'd say.
My arms swung freely from my shoulders.
My legs knew no fatigue ... even going uphill.
My thigh-tops were enjoying unaccustomed contact with my pants legs, meaning my quads have bulked up.
And the tops of my buns were also rubbing nicely against the material of my trousers. It's been a long time since this 57-year-old male even
had tops to his buns.
This is what Tai Chi has done for me over the last two months: made me a body-culture convert!
Taking Stock of My Tai Chi Experience So Far
It's been almost two months since I began, and I'm still doing Tai Chi ... and loving it! I think it's about time to take stock.
The most important thing I'd like to emphasize at this juncture is
the mere fact that I haven't stopped. I'm not noteworthy for sticking with things. Especially things having to do with exercise and keeping the body in shape.
Why have I stuck with it? Tai Chi seems to be
just hard enough. If it were too easy, I'd lose interest. If it were too hard, I'd also lose interest.
It's definitely a challenge. There hasn't been much about it that was easy for me to do the first time I tried.
But it also starts giving its rewards nearly right away. Just the
feeling of accomplishment the second, or third, or nth time I try something and at long last get it right is great.
That's quite important to me personally. I was always, as a kid, real slow on the uptake when it came to doing physical things. I must have been ten before I got mad at my backwardness and taught myself to ride a bike. I didn't learn to swim until about age 12 or 13. At about that age I pretty much flunked using gymnastic apparatuses (apparati?) in gym class and developed such a complex about athletic pursuits that I found all sorts of excuses to get out of taking physical education. So now I'm getting my revenge.
I'm actually able to do something that is physically challenging and succeed!
It's important also in a more universal sense, I think. There is something key about
subjecting oneself to a discipline such as striving to do Tai Chi right, and then, albeit gradually, actually succeeding. Not that one ever masters it ... but one does see oneself getting closer to the mark than one could have managed to do before, and
just making some progress toward an honorable goal is infinitely rewarding.
And now for some brief editorializing: I have to think that last point about subjecting oneself to some sort of personal discipline and as a result achieving noble goals explains why so many young people pursue the martial arts so avidly in their spare time. (Tai Chi, lest anyone forget, is basically a martial art.) I wonder whether there shouldn't be martial arts study in our schools. It would seem to be one of those things which unlock the mind and soul — music study is another — so that kids can perform their best in the subjects that "really mean something." Instead of stripping such "non-essentials" out of the high school curriculum, maybe we ought to be re-emphasizing them. End of editorial.
Another reward Tai Chi steps right up with is giving one the welcome feeling of actually enjoying having a body. One way to describe the "bodily" feeling is that Tai Chi practice and exercise makes my legs and torso feel "solid," like a tree trunk. It's as if my musculature has been turned into a strong "case" around by body. This really comes in handy when I do things like go up and down stairs. A lot of the time, I don't have to rely on hand rails to keep from putting too much strain on my creaky knees.
Yet another reward is rejuvenation, as promised by the subtitle of The Dao of Taijiquan: Way to Rejuvenation. My 57-year-old body feels the way it did at 30 ... albeit with a few extra aches and pains. Even athletes get those.
Plus, my balance is much improved. There's much less worry about tipping over or falling down the steps. I have mentioned that I'm a klutz, haven't I? Well, I'm much less of a klutz since I began Tai Chi.
And, by the way, most of my earlier complaints about back, knee, and shoulder soreness have moderated considerably. I take that fact as living proof that the Tai Chi novice should press on through minor start-up woes that stem from asking the body to do things it hasn't done in a long while.
Yet another reward I've experienced from doing Tai Chi is finding the Wu Chi or Standing Meditation position to be all it's cracked up to be. It really does bring on a relaxed, meditative state, as it floods the body with warmth and a feeling of well-being.
That in turn suggests that all the talk about Chi in the body is for real. It's not terribly easy for us Westerners, given how we do medical science, to believe there's some sort of energy in the body which is no more substantial than the steamy vapor coming off a bowl of warm rice. Where is it, we're inclined to ask? Prove that it exists with instruments or X-rays, we say.
But the fact that adopting a certain posture releases Chi in ways we can know and feel personally puts such quibbles to shame.
I could also mention that Tai Chi seems to have color="#009933"brought my high blood sugar down ... I'm a sort of borderline Type-2 diabetic, and before I took up Tai Chi, my readings had gone up to around 150 mg/dL. They're back down to the mid-130's now. But it's probably too early to tell whether this is just a temporary improvement.
And, oh, yeah, I can tell that I'm much more relaxed. 'Nuff said about that.
I should also report on the few drawbacks I've encountered. One is, as I say, the
activation of stiffness and soreness in the body. My experience is that this is for the most part temporary — it dissipates as you continue doing Tai Chi — but nevertheless it is something that happens.
Another minor drawback, at least for me, is the feeling that
I've added one more "must do" thing to my life and routine. Tai Chi is for life. It's not something you do once, like having an appendectomy.
Then, in what seems like a contradiction of that last point, is the fact that
I can't maintain the pace of doing it every day. Not yet, at least. I find that about every third day has to be a day off for me, or weariness sets in. That may change as my body continues to adjust ... or it may not.
So that's it. The rewards of Tai Chi for me so far have definitely outweighed the drawbacks, and I can recommend Tai Chi to just about anyone interested in obtaining
any of the former and willing to put up with the latter.
I'd like to put in a good word for Joel Gottlieb's MS Tai Chi Blog, available
here. Joel recently posted a comment to one of my posts,
Tai Chi and bladder control. That's how I discovered I have a fellow Tai Chi blogger ...
... but with an important difference. The difference is that Joel uses Tai Chi to manage his multiple sclerosis (MS).
Joel reports that due to MS he experiences/has:
burning or prickling... without an outside stimulus. Ataxia: inability to coordinate voluntary muscle movements; unsteady movements and staggering gait. Proprioceptive loss of sensation in legs. Neurologically-induced fatigue. Heavy legs.
In short, the nerves in his body do not function as once they did.
Which means that doing Tai Chi is a challenge in a different way to him ... and its benefits are even more important.
Joel has much to tell others who have MS and do (or are considering doing) Tai Chi. He also has a lot to say to us "civilians" who do not have a neurological disorder.
Thank you for your comment, Joel.
Breathing and Remaining Mindful
Yesterday something quite nice happened for me as I was in church. (As a Catholic, Saturday Mass attendance is optional for me, rather than attending on Sunday.)
I was way late getting to the 4 P.M. service. When I got there I was anything but tranquil. Then, part of the way through the liturgy, something clicked in. I noticed that I had begun
breathing quite deeply, slowly, and comfortably ... and that a feeling of bodily warmth and complete mental contentment had washed over me.
I reflected that I was doing exactly what Tai Chi masters advise: breathing from the belly or
dan tien.
Yes, I was actually breathing in everyday life (if being in church can be considered that) as I have started to learn to breathe while standing in Wu Chi posture or doing Tai Chi exercises. Not only was I not breathing just from the chest or upper lungs, I was managing to allow myself to exhale all the way. As I "watched" my breathing, it felt like there was a sort of internal "click" when that point was reached. Then I would watch myself inhale, easily, calmly, neither too deeply nor too shallowly, and also from the
dan tien.
I was able to sustain that type of breathing fairly well, as the church proceedings went on, by means of
remaining mindful of it. Mindfulness, I am coming to see, is what Tai Chi is really all about. It, mindfulness, is a kind of laissez-faire watchfulness in which the mind does not micromanage what the body is doing — in this case, breathing — but it does pay close attention to it and offers gentle hints and corrections from time to time.
This mindfulness did not interfere with everything else I had to pay attention to and do ... though I didn't sing any of the hymns, as I didn't want to add too much complexity to my breathing rhythms.
So the lesson here is that Tai Chi strengthens mindfulness as it strengthens the body and improves the breathing. That's quite a lot going for it, I'd say.
A month ago I wrote in
A Breach of Wu Wei of hitting a wall. In my haste and greed to learn Tai Chi faster, I had violated the Taoist principle of
wu wei, "taking no action."
Here from
this web page of the
Martial Arts Institute is a Japanese story which makes the same point humorously:
A young boy traveled across the country to the school of a famous Sensei teaching martial arts. When he arrived at the Dojo he was greeted by the Sensei, who said, "What do you wish from me?"
"I wish to be your student and become the finest martial artist in the land," said the boy. "How long must I study?"
"Ten years at least," the Sensei replied.
"Ten years is a long time," the boy said. "What if I study twice as hard as all the other students?"
"Twenty years," replied the Sensei.
"Twenty years! But what if I practice day and night with all my might?"
"Thirty years," the Sensei replied.
"Thirty years! Why is it that each time I say I will practice harder, you say it will take longer?"
"The answer is clear," said the Sensei. "When one eye is fixed on the final destination, there is only one eye left with which to find the way."
Natural as it may seem to be in a hurry, it's nothing but counterproductive.
There are certain stances and steps that crop up again and again in Yang-Style Tai Chi. When I described the opening movements of the Yang Long Form as we are learning it in class — see
My Tai Chi Form (Part I) and
My Tai Chi Form (Part II) — I could have shortened some of the descriptions by referring to them. One of the most important of these basic stances is the Bow Stance, sometimes called the Bow and Arrow Step or Arched Step.
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Front Bow Stance Left
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This web page has a thorough discussion of the Yang-Style Bow Stance, or actually two variations thereof. The first variation is called
Front Bow Stance.
What is important is what everything but the hands and arms are doing; their positions depend on which particular movement the Front Bow Stance has been incorporated in. Everything else is the same from one Front Bow Stance to the next.
This is a Front Bow Stance
Left because it happens to be the left foot that is the front foot. Front Bow Stance Right is the mirror image of this, with the right foot forward. In general, we see that in Front Bow Stance the front foot (whichever one it is) points in the same direction as the eyes and the trunk of the body. The front leg is bent nicely at the knee. Virtually all the weight is on that leg and foot.
Meanwhile, the rear leg is close to — but not quite — straight. It's hard to tell from this picture, but entire bottom of the rear foot is on the ground. The rear foot is turned out at a 45° angle to the forward axis of the body.
The top part of the trunk of the body is upright and vertical ... which means the lower part of the back is arched like a strung bow. Hence the name of the stance.
The Front Bow Stance is an integral part of the Single and Double Ward Off positions, Left and Right, that I described in the earlier posts. Likewise, it's basic to both Press (Right or Left) and Push (Right or Left).
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Side Bow Stance Left
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The second of the two variations of the Bow Stance is the
Side Bow Stance. Here we see Side Bow Stance Left. Side Bow Stance Right is its mirror image.
Again, we ignore the particular hand positions — which in this case are those for the Single Whip Left movement I described in one of my earlier two posts on Tai Chi Form (notice the "hooked" right hand). The only essential difference between Side Bow Stance Left and Front Bow Stance Left is that in Side Bow Stance Left the torso opens up and rotates in the direction of the rear leg and foot (in this case, clockwise). The lower back remains arched like a strung bow.
My Physiatrist Said ...
I visited Dr. Collins, my physiatrist, today about the soreness in my back, right knee, and right shoulder.
First, the shoulder: he said it's a rotator cuff injury. The rotator cuff is the name of the large muscle that emerges from near the neck, travels down over the shoulder bone, and then is inserted through other soft tissue to join the big bone of the upper arm. Having a torn rotator cuff puts me in the same category as any number of famous baseball players and pitchers. Dr. Collins' advice: continue to strengthen it just as I have been doing.
The knee problem is probably chondromalacia patellae, a wearing down of the cartilage at the end of the thighbone, meaning the patella or kneecap rubs against it. I've had that problem before in my left knee — had arthroscopic surgery for it — and now it's cropping up in the right. Again, I should keep doing the Tai Chi to strengthen the quadriceps and so hold the parts of the knee more firmly in place.
As for the lower back, I found a record I had made that Dr. Collins had diagnosed both spondylolisthesis and spondylolysis in it some 10 years ago. I had forgotten that. He told me today that, loosely speaking, both are kinds of arthritis. Beginning to do exercise aggravated it/them.
Dr. Collins said it takes anywhere from six to sixteen weeks before problems like mine go away, after beginning an exercise program. I should keep at it, because in this case the cure is more of that which caused the symptoms in the first place.
I trust Dr. Collins' predictions, because a decade ago when I was having more intense back pain, he told me that as I got to be over 50, the pain would diminish — and it did. The reason was that at that age the vertebrae of the lower back do a sort of "auto-fusion." That eliminates a source of back pain, but at the cost of increased stiffness and soreness upon undertaking an exercise regimen.
Dr. Collins approved my doing the lower-back exercises in
Backache: What Exercises Work, and he heartily endorsed continuing to use Tai Chi to build up my body. He was noncommittal about whether incorrect Tai Chi Walking posture set me up for my onset of stiffness/soreness, when I demonstrated the right way and the wrong way of doing it to him ... but he didn't say I was wrong about that, either.
He recommended painkillers like Advil, Tylenol, and Aleve, and also icing trouble spots after aggravating them. He did
not say I should stop exercising and rest.
I mentioned the "bump" along the back of my spine, near the waist, which causes discomfort from contact with the floor when I do my back exercises. He said the feature was normal, and showed me his handy-dandy model spinal column to prove it. He said it is called a "something process," I believe. I forget the exact terminology. He also said it was most likely the one on my "L3" or third lumbar vertebra. Several of the vertebrae in this region have such protuberances.
So, all in all, a very favorable result.
Yesterday I made
this post suggesting that, at least for this 57-year-old man, certain aspects of Tai Chi practice have the same effect as Viagra (which, be it noted, I haven't had occasion to try). They give me a "bóqĭ," which in Chinese literally means a sudden (or spontaneous?) rising or standing up. It's pronounced "BO-CHEE."
I am posting about this subject not to appeal to anyone's prurient interests. Rather, I am passing along my experience to those other men who might be interested in an exercise regimen that can "stand in" for Viagra or Cialis.
I find that experiencing a spontaneous
boqi (I'll now drop the diacritical accents) has to do with elements of posture I'm incorporating into my life from my Tai Chi practice, and particularly with what I have learned from the Wu Chi position.
Specifically, in Wu Chi posture you imagine there is a "golden thread" tugging the crown of your head skyward. When I visualize that happening, I notice that the place where the back of my noggin joins the top of my neck and spine seems to pull itself backward and upward, elongating and stretching my neck in that direction.
When I do that particular posture alteration to what seems to me a maximal extent — along with other aspects of Wu Chi, that is — I find I can get a spontaneous
boqi!
I just found that out in the bathroom as I was preparing for and taking a shower. In addition to practicing some of the other Wu Chi "tricks," such as rotating my pelvis slightly backward — yes,
backward, in a way that may be idiosyncratic to me — I stretched "the back of my neck" backward and upward, which pointed my eyes and nose a little bit downward ... and I realized that it was not only my upper body which was standing up tall and straight.
This welcome effect persisted during my whole shower ... and I guarantee I was not thinking sexy thoughts. It just happened.
(Incidentally, I also noticed that adopting the same posture improved my singing in the shower radically. It seemed to get my breath control and the tension on my vocal cords just right. That's good, too. Pavarotti, look out!)
At this point, some more about the Chinese expression
boqi. As I discuss it, I am also expermienting with ways to render the Chinese characters for
boqi in the text of my post.
勃起 is the way it is written in traditional Chinese. How I managed to find and enter those characters (and I hope they show up as correctly in your browser as in mine) is instructive.
I happen to have a Macintosh computer, and it has built-in software that displays a character palette in any of several selectable views. Normally I use the Roman view, since we Westerners typically employ a Roman alphabet. But the palette also offers a Traditional Chinese view.
When that is selected, the palette can be manipulated to show what may well be, for all I know, any character in Traditional Chinese. (Simplified Chinese, Korean, and Japanese views are also available.) Say I want to enter the character for "bo2," the pronunciation of
bo I'm dealing with here. To find it in the palette, I have to look up and select its
radical in the upper-left panel of the palette.
The radical is that portion of a character that gives the character its meaning. Not all characters have radicals, but the vast majority do. It so happens that the radical used in
勃 is
力, "li4," pronounced "LEE," meaning "strength, power." It forms the right-hand portion of
勃. Despite appearances, it's drawn with two strokes. So I scroll down in the radicals panel until I start to see the two-stroke radicals, and then I continue scrolling until I find
力.
The next step is to find the actual character I want in the adjacent panel in the palette. To do this, I first must recognize the fact that the
rest of the character — the part
other than the radical, called the "phonetic" since it specifies the sound of the word — is drawn with seven strokes, for a total of nine. I scroll to the part of the characters panel that shows seven-stroke phonetics, and voilà. One of them is the "bo2" character I seek.
Then I just double-click on it, and it gets inserted in the text I am entering in the Blogger Edit Posts window. How this actually works, I have no idea. But I do note that I enclose the Chinese character in HTML that increases its "font size" by +4 for legibility.
What about "qi3"? The radical is
走, "zou3," pronounced "ZOH" to rhyme with "dough," with meaning "walk," "go," "move," etc. It has seven strokes, leaving a three-stroke phonetic in the ten-stroke
起. The palette gives only three three-stroke phonetics for this radical, and one of them is the right one! (Notice that this time the radical appears on the
left-hand side of the actual character.)
Today I was feeling a litle tired after three straight days of doing Tai Chi exercises combined with lower back exercises, so I decided to do just a moderate set of Fundamental Movements, after spending a few minutes in the Wu Chi posture. This was my first morning of approaching Wu Chi according to my newfound understanding of how to get from my normal — i.e., highly idiosyncratic — posture into that standard beginning posture, as I previously reported
here.
Basically, to make a long story short, I was asking my pelvis to roll back more than before.
I wasn't far into the set of exercises when I noticed that they were causing me to manifest spontaneously that which some men take Viagra for!
I was happy to note that the manifestation persisted as I continued to do the exercises, which I thought both wonderful and odd. Wonderful, because we men love manifestations of this sort when they happen to us ... especially those of us who are getting on in age. Odd, because the exercises send a lot of blood to various parts of the body. That would seem to militate against its remaining concentrated in any one stiffened part.
My interpretation of this is a tentative one: there really is a link between Tai Chi, the Wu Chi posture, and the flow of subtle energy in the body which the Chinese call
qi or Chi.
Chi is akin to bioelectricity, or nerve energy, or blood energy, or what-have-you, depending on who you ask. But it is more than that. It is a category poorly understood in the West. It can't be reduced to a matter of electrical potential or blood. It can't be reduced to anything at all ... and Western science is hard put to explain phenomena that can't be analyzed reductively.
So the reason why I found
my own self "hard put" this morning is not one that is easy for us Westerners to comprehend. We just have to take it on faith that Chi is behind anything at all, really, which happens in the body.
It occurs to me that I would like to know the Chinese for the male bodily manifestation we call an erection. It's


. The first character is "bó," pronounced as it looks, and it means "sudden(ly)" or "quick(ly)." It can also mean "flourishing, prosperous." The second character is "qĭ," pronounced "CHI." Among other things, it means "rise" or "stand up."
Notice that I have shown the Pinyin transliterations of these two Chinese words with diacritical marks accenting the vowels. This is because Chinese uses up to four different tonal inflections for vowels, plus a fifth vowel pronunciation with no tonal inflection. The "acute" accent over the vowel in "bó" indicates a rising tone. As this is the so-called "second tone" in the list, another way to represent the word if diacritical marks are not available is "bo2," where the "2" indicates the second tone.
Likewise, "qĭ" has the accent we call a "breve." It indicates the "third tone" in the list: a falling and then rising tone. The alternative form is "qi3." This tonal accent distinguishes this particular word from "qì," the word (also pronounced "CHI") whose literal meaning is "vapor" or "steam" and which represents the bodily energy or vitality referred to in the name Tai Chi. The vowel in "qì" has a "grave" accent that indicates the "fourth," or falling, tone. The character for this word, whose alternate rendering is "qi4," is

.
There is also a high, level, "first" tone indicated by the accent called a macron, as in "qī," which means "seven" and is drawn as

. Without accent, it's "qi1." (The unaccented "qi5" is apparently an interjection which means "fie!")
Later in the day, after I posted
Yet more on Wu Chi, I made a startling discovery.
I was playing with one of my cats, teasing him up on my bed with the Kitty Tease, which put me right by the full length mirror. I just happened to notice that I normally stand with my knees softened or bent about the right amount for standing in Wu Chi position!
I hadn't noticed that before!
So, I reasoned, given that fact, what do I have to do to assume Wu Chi posture? It was obvious in the mirror that my pelvis, the way I normally carry it, was too far forward. Perhaps if I poke my fanny out a bit ...
That alone wasn't enough, though. But I remembered that in Wu Chi the top of the head is being tugged upward by a "golden thread." What if I honor that dictum by slightly unbending my usually too-bowed upper spine, a process which just naturally causes me to inhale deeply? Yesssss! That's it! I immediately felt the head-clearing benefit of being in Wu Chi position.
Of course, I was standing with my feet in the right position, and also with my arms and hands in acceptable Wu Chi arrangement. Given those preconditions, it turns out all I have to do to enter Wu Chi is poke my fanny back, lift my head and neck, and breathe from the
Tan Tien rather than from the chest!
What this means is that my ordinary posture is enough unlike most people's that some of the instructions for entering Wu Chi don't apply in my case. Such as the instruction to bend or soften the knee — already done! Such as the instruction to tuck the pelvis in — in my case, I need to untuck it by poking my fanny somewhat out. And such as the instruction to let my chest cave in — in my case, I need to open up my chest, since I normally have a pronounced upper-torso slouch.
I'm going to keep trying out this idiosyncratic technique for entering Wu Chi and make sure it really works for me!
Fair warning: don't try this at home. Your own everyday posture is probably different than mine.
It's Sunday. Today I skipped the Fundamental Movements and did the first nine Strength and Motion exercises from
Step-by-Step Tai Chi, followed by the low-back stretching and abdominals-strengthening exercises from
Backache: What Exercises Work.
I can report that my back and knee problems have been much reduced, though there's still some resicual stiffness and soreness. This, even though I've continued to exercise without a day off in three days.
Last night, I even tried some Tai Chi Walking, all the while being somewhat fearful it would make me sorry this A.M. But that didn't happen! Hallelujah!
I also took my first look at two

books on Chi Gung I recently bought. Both are by Master Lam Kam Chuen, author of
Step-by-Step Tai Chi.
The Way of Energy is from the same publisher as
Step-by-Step Tai Chi, and, like it, is filled with useful illustrations of the various positions and movements.
Chi Kung: Way of Power is not as profusely illustrated, but its text seems relatively streamlined and straightforward. The two books complement one another nicely.
From them I learn that Chi Gung is not a bit simpler or less intricate than Tai Chi. It puts more emphasis on static positions such as Wu Chi, but it also utilizes movement. There is a close relationshipe between Chi Gung postures/movements and Tai Chi postures/movements. For example, Wu Chi leads off Tai Chi form, and also Chi Gung meditation.
Chi Gung is, however, the more esoteric. It specifically addresses Chi, its quantity, and its movement within the body.
I have already learned from these books some things that carry over into my Tai Chi practice. For example, in these books, as contrasted with
Step-by-Step Tai Chi, Master Lam makes it clear that in the basic Wu Chi position — the "First Position" of Chi Gung — the amount of bend in your knees is not great. You simply "unlock" your knees. "You can," Master Lam says, "bend them ever so slightly." Still, you must "make sure they don't stiffen into the fixed, locked position."
Also, the arms dangle out
away from the sides of the body. The illustrations in
Step-by-Step Tai Chi are from the side and don't make this clear.
Also, to get the "ideal posture" with respect to the chest, you "exhale completely and allow your chest to drop."
Also, you simply "relax your hips and belly. Let the bottom of your spine unfold downward so that neither your belly nor your bottom is sticking out."
By "unfold" I take it that Master Lam means this:
(a) When you unlock your knees, your pelvis, if locked, may tend to follow your thighs forward and wind up folded upward, so let it relax and roll backward slightly, so that it unfolds downward..
(b) Or, if the pelvis is already relaxed and not following your thighs forward, it may tend to
get locked in a bottom-stuck-out position. In that case, your spine winds up
too folded downward. So unfold it
upward by rotating the pelvis forward a bit.
Another thing I learned from the Chi Gung books is that in proper Wu Chi posture, the point on the crown of your head by which you imagine you are suspended by a "golden thread" is vertically in line with the top tips of your ears.
In turn, the
Bai Hui (pronunciation: "BY HWAY"; meaning: "hundred meetings") point on the crown of your head is positioned vertically right above your
Tan Tien, the point 3 centimeters below your navel and one-third of the way into your body, moving from front to back.
This is the point also referred to in
this earlier post as the
dan tien point (pronunciation: "DON TYEN"; meaning: "elixir field"). It has been said that in some meditation traditions you "contemplate your navel." To some extent in Chi Gung you conteplate — or are at least mindful of — your storehouse and pump for Chi, the
Tan Tien.
The axis from
Bai Hui to
Tan Tien is, accordingly, plumb, meaning precisely vertical. This axis extends to the line between your feet which connects the points upon which your weight is centered. I assume these are the Bubbling Spring points I mentioned in my earlier posts. In terms of the front-to-back dimension of your feet, they are
slightly forward of the middles of your feet. However, in terms of side-to-side weight-bearing, "the wright of your body rests
in the middle of the soles of your feet.
In the Wu Chi posture, you are said to be "standing like a tree." These books tell me why. Imagine a line at the level just below your kneecaps. Above this line, your body can be imagined as the trunk and branches of a tree, "resting calmly between the earth and the sky." Below the line are the tree's roots, holding you firmly in position.
This is the imagery of which you are mindful as you do Chi Gung. It holds before you an awareness that you are solidly in contact with the earth as you are being stretched toward heaven by a golden thread attached to the
Bai Hui point atop your head.
Now, after you have been long enough in the Wu Chi posture, you may move on during your practice session to the second Chi Gung position, Holding the Balloon. The way it is described is instructive.
From Wu Chi, you raise your arms into a particular position such that in your imagination you are holding a filled balloon to your chest. Your hands rest on this imaginary balloon — which can be thought of as somewhat squashed by your arms and hands. Your armpits rest on tiny imaginary balloons underneath them. Your elbows rest on slightly larger imaginary balloons.
The arm-raising comes after "a huge [imaginary] balloon takes your weight behind you, like a beach ball on the sand," Master Lam says. "Imagine you are simply resting your bottom on the edge of a high stool," he says, after he has just said, "Your knees bend as you sink downward. Your head, torso, and pelvic girdle remain gently aligned, exactly as they were in the first position."
And your separated thighs, because your knees are bent even more that in Wu Chi position, "gently hold one balloon in place."
This Holding the Balloon position, in terms of what is done with the lower body, is accordingly
a more exaggerated crouch than basic Wu Chi. This is something of a revelation to me: that these basic postures
vary with respect to the degree of crouch. Up to now, I had assumed they were all the same.
And so I was crouching too much for Wu Chi, and carrying that exaggerated crouch over into Tai Chi Walking. Bad mistake!
Enough for now!
I reported in
My Aching Back and
My Tai Chi Posture that I've been contending with backache brought on, I think, by incorrect posture while Tai Chi Walking.
In order to offset that,

I bought and am using the book
Backache: What Exercises Work, by Dava Sobel and Arthur C. Klein.
I consider it an ideal book for my purposes. The textual information is brief, clear, and to the point, and I assume thorough and accurate. The main thing is the exercises, I would think, and they are described fully, lucidly, and tersely in words and also through use of an abundance of accompanying illustrations.
The bottom line is, you can just skip up to the exercises for, say, low-back pain, and begin doing them right away. It takes but a few seconds to acquaint yourself with the steps to do for each exercise.
And they're easy to do. They don't demand a lot of strain or effort, coordination or skill. They're intentionally gentle enough so that anyone can do them. Those that are more challenging are identified as such with words to the effect of, say, "You may not want to do this one until you first have mastered ... ".
For the past couple of days I've been doing the stretch-the-lower-back exercises and the strengthen-the-abdominal-muscles exercises after doing the Fundamental Movements from
Step-by-Step Tai Chi. It takes well over an hour to get through them all, but it's well worth it. My back and knee pain are much diminished.
I've also been avoiding Tai Chi Walking for the duration, except for a few experiments with the revised posture I detailed in
My Tai Chi Posture.
Nevertheless, I've been using the revised posture as the basis for those exercises that are compatible with it. Most of the Fundamental Movements except those that deal with the hips and back are compatible. The ones that involve the hips and back are straight-leg-only exercises.
I am finding that just assuming the correct Wu Chi posture has a clearing effect on the mind. It is not yet easy for me to "find" the right posture, though. My wont is to lock my pelvis either all the way forward or all the way back. Somewhere in the middle, between these extremes, is a "sweet spot" wherein the invovled muscles stay soft and wiggly. When everything is just right, the knees are also somewhat yielding, not locked in any particular degree of bend ... and it seems as if a certain amount (but not a lot) of the strain of maintaining the posture shifts down to the ankles.
So I'd hazard the opinion that the strain of maintaining the Wu Chi posture
must be (a) minimized and (b) distributed over all involved joints and body regions, including upper body, lower back, hips, knees, ankles, and feet. When all is just right, I get the feeling of being "planted" firmly in place, and rock steady. And the head clears magically.
Which tells me that my usual standing and sitting postures — not necessarily walking or lying down — are way out of whack. So much so that I'm "kinking up" my Chi "hose," or I'm shutting down my Microcosmic Orbit, or something. When I use Wu Chi posture to "unkink" it or whatever, the beneficial effect is noticeable and immediate.
That the correct Wu Chi posture makes one feel "planted" or "rooted" firmly in place is no accident, by the way. After all, this is expressly a posture for Standing Meditation. Which means, on a practical level, that you're going to enter an altered, meditative, twilight state ... and you don't want to fall over!
And, on a more esoteric level, you are in that posture which best facilitates the flow of Chi from the Earth up into — and through — your body. It's almost like the bottoms of your feet are electrodes, and are making the best possible
electrical connection with the "charge" of the Earth when you are in correct Wu Chi posture. Not that you feel any shocks or tingles, mind you. You just get a warm and fuzzy feeling that
this is the way you are supposed to stand on the surface of your mother planet.
I said in
What is the tao (Part 4) that the Taoist idea of "knowing when to stop" or "knowing contentment" is quite important. In fact, I think it has much in common with certain Christian ideas about chastity. As long as chastity is thought of as meaning "to experience things, all things, respectfully and to drink them in only when we are ready for them," and not just a synonym for sexual abstention, it is a way to the same "contentment" as following the
tao.
That

definition of chastity comes from Catholic priest Ronald Rolheiser, writing in
The Shattered Lantern. I discuss it further in
this post I made to another blog of mine.
It occurs to me that we in America today have gone to the opposite extreme. Instead of chastity, we have developed a "take-it-to-the-limit" culture. In somebody's apt phrase, we act as if we want to "live fast, die young, and leave a beautiful corpse."
But, given what I said in earlier posts on the nature of the
tao, we, as heirs of Platonic thought, could have done little else.
Take, say, Plato's ideas about an observable quality of certain material objects: roundness. Nothing in this world is absolutely, perfectly round, he said, but there is a Form or Idea of Roundness on a higher metaphysical plane. It (in our parlance) takes the quality of roundness "to the absolute limit."
Ditto, Plato's highest Idea, the Form of the Good. It takes goodness to the limit.
That which doesn't take roundness, or goodness, or whatever-it-is "to the limit," Plato basically said, suffers from a deficit of intelligibility ... or, more than that, a deficit of reality itself.
And we inherit that to-the-limit notion in our culture today. In fact, we've long had a take-it-to-the-limit culture in the West. That explains why we've also favored "thou shalt not" religions. It's why our God has been called the Grand Old Disapprover.
For if we are to take our lives to the limit, we need to be clear on what the limits are.
But now the hold of the Grand Old Disapprover over us has, for many people, been weakened by cultural change. Lots of people don't believe in God, or at least, not all that strongly. The venerable "thou shalt nots" don't much constrain them. They (in the 1960's expression) cheerfully let it all hang out. They act as if they have no shame (see
this post in my other blog).
If they had a sort of "inner chastity" — an instinct to "to experience things, all things, respectfully and to drink them in only when ... ready for them" — the missing "thou shalt nots" wouldn't make all that much difference. Taking it to the limit would not be the watchword of their lifestyle.
The Taosim of the
Lao-Tzu or
Tao Te Ching is a prescription for "inner chastity": knowing contentment, knowing when to stop. It promotes the opposite of taking it to the limit, and it does so without resorting to a bunch of "thou shalt nots." I think we in the West really need something like it just about now.