Saturday, February 16, 2008

Tai Chi I Remember

My husband and I have been taking a tai chi class together on Saturday mornings. It is interestingly the first spiritual practice, or frankly any kind of regular organized activity, that we have done together during our time in New Orleans where we both seem to be in agreement on its absolute wonderfulness. Right before we're leaving town, of course.

I practiced tai chi for about a year and a half pretty seriously around 2003-04. My teacher was a Chinese immigrant and graduate student (in what? biochemistry? computer science? economics? I can't remember). He gave me private lessons in exchange for private English lessons. His English was fine but he wanted to refine his pronunciation. He taught me chen-style tai chi which is not commonly taught in the West and is a little less accessible than the more commonly taught yang-style. He and his teacher had been very successful in regional competitions in China. These competitions were called "pushing hands," i.e. simulating the gentle combat of the martial art of tai chi. Drawing from his own cultural tradition, he worked me very hard during those sessions, progressing at a rapid pace with lots of repetition, sweat and difficulty. We met early in the mornings 2 or 3 days a week, practicing on a basketball court at some fraternity house on Tennessee Street in Lawrence, down the hill from the University of Kansas. When we were done we trekked up Mount Oread to my graduate student office digs (my thighs quivering) and we practiced speaking English using a workbook that he had. I'm pretty sure that he wouldn't describe those English sessions as rigorous or difficult as I had described the tai chi lessons.

I can't say I loved doing tai chi at that time though I continued to do it because I always loved how I felt, i.e. as if I was floating on air. This was a good way for a graduate student (well, for anyone) to feel. And then one day, I just didn't show up anymore. I always hoped he thought of my final inconsiderate behavior as some American cultural problem (lazy, selfish, rude, issues with closure) rather than something personal about me.

Our class now is held above Fair Grinds coffeehouse (and across the street at the park on nice days). My previous teacher never explained anything; I just followed what he did and repeated it over and over. Our teacher here is amazing, to say the least. I appreciate her explanations and her gentle, meditative approach. It is so much fun and a joy to be there with other people, especially my partner.

I feel like the memories of my tai chi days of yore are in my body. I also have a similar sense when I do sitting meditation and haven't done it in a while, being able to tap into the "letting go" muscle. (I used to flex this muscle on a more regular basis during my more serious zen practice days.) At any rate, doing tai chi as serious meditative practice seems to have some interesting transformative possibilities.

2 comments:

Jo said...

"letting go" muscle...when I flex MY letting go muscle, I feel something warm run down my leg and I run to the bathroom. Thanks for including me on your bloggy blog! Now I can read your blog instead of write reports!

Loretta Pyles, Certified Yoga Teacher said...

Oh my, when I first read this comment, I was thinking who is this creepy person talking about his or her bodily functions? But then I figured out it was you Jolynn and it all made sense. Hopefully you can learn to make it to the bathroom before you let go. The letting go I'm referring to would help you curtail the compulsion to talk about your bodily functions in a public forum.