Gin, Jin, Jing, Chin?

In Thai "Jing jing" means "really true", so for example "Aroy jing jing" means "that really is delicious!".
The Tai Chi Newbie may jar a little when they are told that Gin is at the heart of Chinese internal martial arts. Others, typically with some background in Qigong, might say "oh yes, of course, Jing". "Jin" is neither of those contexts, although the latter person may have been tripped up by the Wade-Giles Romanisation of Chinese, where Jin is actually spelt Jing, and Jing is spelt Ching. It all gets rather confusing. Better to stick with Pinyin!
Gin, of course, is an alcoholic beverage. Using Pinyin, "Jing" would translate as something akin to "essence", including seminal essence. Jing here is one of the three treasures, which properly combined in Taoist alchemical process, enable us to become immortal and ascend to heaven (something of a contradiction in terms to most westerners - http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Taoism_and_death). The other two treasures are "Qi" ("Chi" in Wade-Giles) - "internal energy", and "Shen" - "spirit/wisdom".
"Jin" means something like "skill", "competency", or "force", depending on the context. So we have "Ba Jin" - the "Eight Powers/Techniques", well-known to all serious Tai Chi Chuan practitioners: Peng, Lu, Ji, An, Cai, Lie, Zhou, Kao. Jin is also referred to numerous times in the Tai Chi classics - for example, as the result of constant, repetitive, quality training: "a hundred times refined steel". Funnily enough, I found another romanisation when googling this: "The mobilization of the chin is like refining steel a hundred times over." (http://www.fourseasonstaichi.com/CLASSICS.html). Better to stick with Pinyin.
Another place we find Jin widely discussed is in the theory of pushing hands, where we (at least) find "Ting Jin" ("Listening skill"), "Hua Jin" ("Diverting skill") and "Fa Jin" ("Emitting/exploding skill"). If we master those three, then we may say that we have attained some "Dong Jin" ("Understanding Jin").
As Tai Chi Chuan practitioners, concerned with the development of martial competency, we are not much interested in Gin or Jing, although at least one of those is important in life. Jin is a key concept in all internal martial arts, and is not unique to Tai Chi Chuan. It represents the developing, deep-seated skill that is the result of continuous training across a set of relevant exercises. In that respect, it is closely associated with "Gong" ("Kung" in Wade-Giles) which is the work by which we get it. So - go work on your Gong, and let your Jin develop - Jing Jing!!

Let's Push Australia!

My thoughts are starting to come out in words - I want to organise a push hands competition here in Melbourne, sometime in 2014. I think Melbourne, Pushclub, and even Australia need such an event. Why? Because it would be
- dedicated only to push hands (no forms or anything else)
- not associated directly with Tai Chi, or any organising body for Tai Chi (independent!)
- based on the rules we have from the European competitions, notably my teacher's work and the Tai Chi Federation of Europe (TCFE).
Because this is a first effort, there won't be too many competent people to judge or compete, so we'll need to keep the rule simple. Something like this:

- free movement in a restricted space (perhaps 6x2 metres, max) - so no need to look at people's feet
- contact anywhere above the groin and below the neck is allowed, using the arm to push or pull
- no throws, no sweeps, no trips
- any part of the arm may be used to push or pull EXCEPT the fist or elbow. The shoulder is considered part of the arm and may be used
- it is not necessary for a body part to be in contact with the opponent in order to execute a technique.
- the torso, hips and thighs may be used so long as there is no throw, sweep or trip involved
- 2 points if your opponent goes out of the area
- 2 points if your opponent falls over (ie. any part of the body except the feet touches the competition surface)
- the referee will warn the offender if a rule is breached by accident. If the breach is intentional, then the participant will be disqualified. Two warnings will lead to disqualification on the occasion of a third warning
- one match will be conducted at a time, consisting of two bouts of two minutes each
- males and females will compete separately
- weight categories will be established, broadly according to the number of participants
- all participants will require a medical certificate for practice of martial arts

That's just an idea for starters. I will be consulting with anyone who's interested, but notably my teacher, the TCAA and the WTPA.
Everyone is welcome to comment and discuss, and together we'll bring to life a 'realistic' pushing hands competition.

Heroes - the meaning of Wu Xia

Last night I had the privilege of watching a great movie, named "Wu Xia" (but renamed for westerners as "Dragon" - see the IMDB listing here). Why the translation as Dragon (which is mandarin is "Long")? 

The generally accepted literal translation is "martial" (Wu) "hero" (Xia) - a martial arts hero. This latter word gets bandied about a lot in Chinese martial arts circles, including by my teacher ("woman is the enemy of the hero"). Women of course are a distraction from the long, arduous training that is required to attain superior levels of skill.

But heroes are supposed to be good guys, defending the weak, upholding justice, and so on. But in this movie, winner of many awards, the protagonist is both "hero" and "villain". He was an exceedingly nasty evil bandit, member of the "72 demons" gang of bloodthirsty criminals, but reforms and decides to become a nice smiling family man. In both cases, but notably in the former role, he was an extremely high level martial artist.

So this concept of "Wu Xia" is not quite the same as the western translation. Heroes are not always good. "The water margin", one of the four classic works of Chinese literature, is the story of 108 heroes  not all of whom are always engaged in heroic deeds. Perhaps, we should just accept that a hero does not have to be a nice guy, and that it is the end which counts, rather than the means.

In the film I saw last night, the protagonist clearly undergoes a transformation and arguably rights the wrongs he inflicted in his previous role.

See the wikipedia article here for a longer discussion about the meaning of Wu Xia. Most importantly, don't get distracted from your training!

Force, Strength and Power

Working my way through the Australian Kungfu Federation's coaching accreditation, I was reminded recently of that good old sports science equation:
Strength + Speed = Power
From the point of view of Tai Chi Chuan, this presents some points of interest. In the Classics, reference is made to "Li" (strength) and "Jin" (power/force) but not really speed (although we do find "zou" - moving). "Power" in this context is defined rather differently.
To an extent, we inevitably fall into the twin traps of semantics and translation. What is the difference between force and power? The word "Li" may be understood as 'brute force' - basic muscular force - and TCC practitioners are not supposed to use it. The last item in the five step strategy ("mian, lian, nian, sui, bu diu ding) translates as "not brute force".
Two of my Tai Chi brothers are also real brothers - Guy and George Burgess. I remember once hanging out with a half-naked George and remarked that his very muscular torso must be the result of "weight training" (by which I meant "body building"). He swore that no, this was just the result of his Tai Chi training. The results of external and internal methods can lead to similar results, although in the case of the B brothers, there's surely a lot of genetics involved as well. It is important to note that, as in the Tai Chi symbol, there is always a bit of Yang in the Yin, and vice versa. So there are elements of external training in Tai Chi Chuan, which may vary from toughening the knuckles on pads and bags, to various forms of resistance training.
The word "Jin" in fact includes the character "Li" as its radical - as per that equation, strength is part of the mix. But if speed is not the other part, then what is? As Mr. Docherty seems fond of reminding us, it  is all about "100 times refined steel" - the long refined product of continuous work, practice, and familiarity. It is developed by working on our skills in Listening, Redirecting and Emitting ("Ting Jin, "Hua Jin", "Fa Jin"). That requires attention, dedication and the application of will power - in a word "Yi".
So, from a TCC standpoint, perhaps we can say
Li + Yi + Practice = Jin (also translated as "intelligent force").

Mindfulness of movement

You might have seen the clip of Jean-Claude Van Damme on TV with his "awareness" spiel, although it was in French (this one has something, but I couldn't find the original). Very funny, but not totally unaware of 'reality', as a Buddhist might put it. Being a practising Buddhist, I have some time for this idea of 'awareness', except they call it 'mindfulness'. Same thing. Being aware of what is going on, right now, right here. The Vipassana tradition, and quite specifically the teaching of Ajahn Chah and his 'descendants', puts great emphasis on this - indeed, it is really the goal of the practice of meditation - you start by doing 'simple' practice such as 'mindfulness of breathing', but really the idea is to be mindful ... period.
Try applying this to Tai Chi Chuan then ... not very easy, but also transparent. If you are distracted when you're in the ring / octagon / cage / thingy ... then you are very likely to get woken up, or put to sleep. Gotta concentrate, that's why the adrenalin is there. On the other extreme, we have hand forms and internal strength exercises - the slowness of these practices is conducive to mindfulness, and to distraction. Happens all the time, right? You're there repeating that oft-repeated sequence and your body knows what to do, so you let it do the exercise and your mind dwells on whatever. That is not being mindful, and is not good practice. I like to tell students that part of Tai Chi Chuan practice is engaging in a sort of dialogue with your body. You need to be listening then - you need to be mindful, aware, of what your body is telling you.
Are the feet pointing in the right direction? Is the weight correctly distributed? Is your intention in the movement (or thinking about dinner)?
Be aware, talk with your movement. Be 'mindful of tai chi chuan'.

Harmonious Language

My Greek friend is right - terminology has been debased to the point where it misleads. After giving up Tai Chi, I am now giving up on Chinese terms to describe it (although not so much in private :) ). My apologies to those friends from the Middle Kingdom who KNOW they are the centre of the Earth. And regards to my teacher, who may not agree (but he told me I was "free - sort of").
The trip down under has reversed this much at least - I will henceforth be attempting to explain what I do in English. Maybe not as the Queen would have it. "Kung Fu", "Tai chi" and even "Nei jia quan" are all likely to mislead. With the new website design I'm calling it 'Practical Internal Martial Art System' - or let's say 'Internal Art' for short.
This morning we were thinking about how to translate 'Jin', as in 'Ting jin', 'Hua jin' and 'Fa jin'. If 'Fa jin' is "explosive power", then what is 'Ting jin'? Answers on a postcard please (or you can leave a comment).

Customer Royalty

Our regional Sales director has told me that customer X must have the training they want, which covers about 3 weeks of standard training, over just 5 days. I have "challenged the customer" as we say, and so has he, but the customer is adamant. If we want the revenue, then we must do what they say. It is the thin edge of the wedge, as customer X will be providing technical support on the product to a huge telco, and have now said they want to be certified on the training. All this is quite impossible - you cannot do 3 weeks of training in 5 days, and certainly cannot hope to pass tests on such a superficial pass. But, the customer is always right, n'est-ce pas?
Closer to the tai chi world, an ex student ("Pierre") told me that he is studying with a very ex student ("Jacques"), because he finds that Jacques' tai chi is rounder than the alternative 'hardliner' (I would probably say 'puritan'). "More like Wu style" said Pierre. Well, unfortunately Jacques, apart from a long history of serious illness, has never actually studied much tai chi - despite the much vaunted stay with my master (vaunted by some, derided by others). I'm pretty sure he's never actually been trained in many of things he is purportedly teaching, ranging from full contact to, apparently, tai chi that is more like 'wu style'. I should have asked Pierre if he had actually ever seen much Wu style tai chi, and of which variant (North, south, Ma style, etc.). In fact, most Wu style tai chi forms are pretty much identical to wudang style. More to the point, the orthodox Southern Wu style has only recently started teaching round form - most people, and pretty much all white westerners, have learnt square form. There is a big difference between softness and roundness.
In short, I would take issue with much of Pierre's pre-supposition. However, I said to myself at the time, "why bother?", I'm no longer involved at all in all the political bullshit and backbiting of the French wudang tai chi scene. So I said to dear Pierre, that if he was happy and getting fit, then that was all anyone could really ask for. He is the customer, and he righly puts his hard-earned cash into the places which gratify him most.
Does it really matter if he's getting hoodwinked? Surely he is the best judge of what he should really get?
It's true that a master who is a violent, dirty, lecherous, manipulative drunk is not a paragon of virtue, and guiding light for the student, or a good marketing tool to promote a growing business. Nonetheless, none of his students come close to his skill and knowledge of the art, although many are far more "socially acceptable". So what does the customer want? In France, I think people want what the advertisements announce - happy, well-dressed hippies of a certain age prancing about graciously on a beach. There's also a set of customers who like the "chinoiserie" and get off intellectually on the cultural side of things.
They will all get what they pay for.

C'est Quoi un maître ?

Tout d'abord : c'est un maître de quoi ? Qu'est-ce qu'il maitrise ?

Ce n'est pas parce que ses formes ne sont pas fluides
Ce n'est pas parce qu'il ne sait à quoi ils servent les mouvements
Ce n'est pas parce qu'il ne connait pas la théorie, ni langue ni la philosophie ni la culture
Ce n'est pas parce qu'il n'est pas asiatique et encore moins chinois
Ce n'est pas parce qu'il n'a jamais utilisé son art pour se battre
Ce n'est pas parce qu'il ne projette pas son Qi
Ce n'est pas parce qu'il ne maitrise pas tous les exercices
Ce n'est pas parce qu'il s'est séparé de son maître
Ce n'est pas parce qu'il a changé et adapté l'art
Ce n'est par parce qu'il est vieux, ni jeune
Ce n'est par parce qu'il n'est pas un ivrogne
Ce n'est par parce qu'il n'est pas violent
Ce n'est par parce que son maître est mort

Ce n'est qu'un nom.
Celle ou celui qui pense qu'un nom égale excellence où encore honneur est aveugle et stupide.

The Reaper

The reaper is the 13th card of the major arcana in the Tarot. It is special.
In fact, the Reaper is "Death" but I thought that would be a bad title for a post, because it's a bit one-sided. The Reaper is all about Yin and Yang you see. Death ... and Life.

In one of my favourite episodes of "Father Ted" the young idiot priest Dougal has his Tarot read by a "gypsy". She pulls out the Reaper. "OMG" he shouts; "don't worry sir, Death does not mean "death", it means "great change" ...". He chooses another card and pulls out the Reaper again, and then again, and then again. "That's funny" says the gypsy "there is only supposed to be one of each card in the pack!".
Some people just don't "get it" and are resistant to change - sometimes in such a rigid, sclerotic manner that new life has difficulty arising.

I certainly stirred up some poops with my recent post on the situation of "tai chi" in general and the French wudang groups in particular. Michel refused to shake my hand at Dan's seminar, saying "this is the second time you have insulted me, my friends and my students". "Let you and your offspring me damned until the sixth generation!" he might have added. I pointed out that I wasn't really aiming at him (I actually named no-one ... and please read the header again at the top of the page) and that perhaps he was being a bit sensitive. "That must be it," he laughed ... "you have to think of the collective!"
Hmm. Well, so, er, just when was the first insult? I looked up "insult" and discovered that yes, it really is a question of how a message is received and interpreted. So that you can insult someone without actually meaning too (now how many times have I done that? lol).

Collectivism of course is often associated with Stalin's attempt to destroy the Russian rural population, or even North Korea's crackpot economics. A term much beloved of lefties (and indeed, I should have added that to my list of insults WOOT!). And France is full of lefties - it's kind of a badge of honor, however lunatic some of the broad left's ideas are (for example "a job for life" and "full employment" are still actually considered possible and desirable!). So the French often behave in collectives. Nigel in Malaysia told of a time when a group of Tai Chi-ers from France came over for training with him - they would all start, stop, get dressed, go to the toilet, have tea, etc. at the same time. The collective.

I've trained with groups all over the place. Dan (for example) will say "forms" and in most places people will start doing what they want to train on (long, short, sword, sabre, left, right, whatever). Not in France, where first of all everyone has to decide what to do. There will be some split ups into smaller groups training on a specific form. Then everyone in that group lines up and when everyone's ready they start together. In theory the most experienced student leads them, in practice fuck it no way do I want to join a collective and I'm there to learn not to teach nor lead. And anyway what I often see is people who want to be leaders and/or think they actually have something worth showing, taking the lead.
Why not? Hell it's all about mini power plays (witness the latest edition of 'Energies' uh-oh!). Mini-me and maxi-effect. Big fish in duckponds. Highly demotivating for me I'm afraid.

So - as the Blue Öyster Cult once sang - "Don't Fear the Reaper".
Change is inevitable and with my departure new flowers will grow (and yes they will be thorny flowers and no they won't be doing full-contact). If the effect of the falling sycthe is less clean and skillful than we all would like, then I am truly sorry. But that's the way it is - sometimes you kick a rock and falls down into the valley, sometimes it just goes a few metres, sometimes it starts an avalanche. How much do you really control the results of your actions? How can you really live a life without insulting anyone?
I don't think such things are possible, and now the Reaper's here I can't wait to get on the other side (Heaven for me of course, with 71 (?) brown-eyed virgins awaiting).
Change is good - resistance is not only futile, but against the Tao! So stop resisting and make the future now!

The Defense responds ...

LOL. As if I'm going to be hurt by that. Anyway, I only characterized the first generation as being worthless (not a word I used as it happens), and then qualified it in the last paragraph. And what does "worth" mean?

The fact remains that compared to what I was doing almost 20 years ago in Dan's classes, neither myself, my classes nor my students are up to that mark (and as for the "others", let's not even go there - I've seen and heard enough!). That doesn't mean anyone is "worthless", just that I have not succeeded in doing what I want, and "they", for the most part, don't really want to do what I want either. In fact, I feel kind of sorry for some because, were things different, some more "martial" students might actually have been able to get there. Maybe they still will, if that's what they want.

At the end of the day, my issue and that blog post relate to the public image of tai chi and the people who are attracted to tai chi classes, and thus the compromises I have to make to try (unsuccessfully) to pay the rent. The "older" students know what I'm about, so that's not a problem (even if they don't like me or disagree with what I think).

Some have complained about feeling targeted? Well, that's always been an issue with this blog. If the shoe fits, wear it! Otherwise, well, there is a long tradition in this school of misunderstanding. What can I say? Some people go to the source and ask directly. Others assume they are right in their erroneous interpretations. Don't mind-read; no you're not telepathic and English is not your first language. If you want to know, ask. If you're too afraid, well that says something in itself. If you think you know what you assume you understand of what I have written, then I have to tell you that your suppostions are likely misguided if not just plain wrong (to misquote a famous old man).

It seems that many readers did not understand what I was talking about.
Which is that "tai chi" is not "tai chi chuan".
The fighting has mostly gone out of it now except for a few gallant folks, mostly dispersed around Europe, not all students of Mr. Docherty. With the exponential rise in Chinese hegemony since their opening to the world and specifically the WTO, this is getting worse.
Basically, you're doing health exercises (tai chi, chi kung), gymnastics (wushu, many schools of 'kung fu') or fighting (sanda, shuai jiao, and san shou). In the latter two categories, some people mix it up. It would be nice if "our" vision (not necessarily that of the students in France) could prevail, but in all evidence it isn't and won't. That's why I'm stopping tai chi. But I am continuing Nei jia chuan. It's just that my bullshit tolerance level has been reached and surpassed, as has my budget and time constraints. But mostly I'm sick of the bullshit.

So the point of people continuing is that they will be doing tai chi and possibly a bit of tai chi chuan. Which is what they are already doing. My decision is purely selfish, a question of going back to the roots and doing what I want to do rather than what the "tai chi market" dictates. I will teach anyone who wants to learn from me, but it will be quite a different kettle of fish from what I do in paying public classes. It will involve lots of hard work out in the woods.

In a context where, after several years, people are still talking about "tai chi" and "kung fu" in mutually exclusive terms, and pronouncing "tui shou" as if to mean "in retirement", it is clear to me that pretty much everyone is in a mindset quite different to my own. I was hoping that might evolve, but it hasn't. I honestly don't think people want it to, and that most of the French wudang people, painting with broad brushstrokes, are quite happy to do "tai chi" (one even wrote "tai shi" the other day ... says a lot). I have to be true to my own interests, and besides, I'm basically putting in a lot of time and my own money to do something I don't really want to.

So, transitionally.
By aim is
a. to get people to understand as many hand applications as I can stuff down their throats. Preferably with some realism as regards distance, timing, technique, response and common sense.
b. to transmit some essentials about jiben Kung and essential martial arts training. At least interested parties should be able to train by themselves.
These two in tandem, so that people may at least have an idea of what is possible and at best be able to train themselves up for full contact competition. Extensive training in nei kung, jiben kung and partnered applications is how people may get to fight.

For any pygmy detractors who may question my abilities in this regard, I would simply say "fuck off", or "try me", were I to be impolite. In a more gentlemanly fashion, I would point out that in London I spent 2 years not only training with Dan, but running an exchange group with other martial artists where we mixed it up and learned each other's techniques; and that I have continued to do so in France, as those who came to the sessions with Marc and his guys in Les Ulis know. This after having done a little judo and lot of athletics, and yoga, amongst other sports, as an adolescent and young adult. So yes I know what I'm talking about. But I'd prefer to be impolite and teach you with my fist and tibia; that also goes for a number of tai chi "masters" I've met. Still, the world is unjust and we don't always get our dues.

For those only interested in tai chi, I will of course be continuing to work on forms, chi kung, daoyin, stretching, breathing and all that stuff (none of which I ever did with Dan, except some chi kung in private sessions).

As for the French fêtes and competitions. Again, not for me, but I encourage people to participate and will help train them for it. If anyone wants to compete in pushing hands and I'm in the country, I'll even be there in the role of coach. As Godfrey prodded me into admitting (grudgingly), I am responsible for "my" students (though I've already posted on this).
Well, if someone is that committed, then I am with him/her. That's good enough.

Tai Chi - what a fuck up

I’m stopping Tai Chi, teaching it and (mostly) practicing it. I (probably we, also) thought we could put the Chuan back in to "Tai Chi Chuan", but time and experience seems to be proving us wrong. Tai Chi is stealing the day.

Tai Chi is assimilated in the public mind, worldwide, with health exercises and spiritual balance, Taoism and holistic living. It’s for the old, the sick, and the spiritual seekers. Fuck that for a game of soldiers.

Training with Dan in the late 80s - early 90s was a revelation for me. This was nothing to do with "Tai Chi"; it was working, efficient, Chinese internal martial arts with an edge. You hurt, you sweated it, you worked out, and you might just get injured. There was Chuan ("fist"), oh yes. I hoped that I could carry the flag here in France and do something similar, that I could create generations of students who could do the same. I have evidently failed in this. I guess you have to be as dedicated as Dan, as big as him ... and the rest, to do something like that.

Anyway I’ve spent 7 years of time and several thousand euros trying to spread the word and I’m sick of it. I’m going to follow Ed in elegant retirement, doing my own thing, and training with like-minded people. I’m leaving the public arena, the bad smell has at last gotten me too sick to stay.

The first generation turned out to be a bunch of wasters, junkies and hippies, some of whom also showed themselves to be lying, manipulative hypocrites as well. None were athletes. Some of their students more recently showed some promise, but as far as I know they all left. I don’t need to wonder why. If you sell something that you don’t deliver the punter gets pissed, however good your parties and sexual favors may be.

The second generation has been a mixed bunch. There have been and still are some who, if not athletes, at least want to practice Tai Chi Chuan and *not* Tai Chi. But they have always been a tiny minority. Last year there were 33 people registered in the Association. Along with tourists, other visitors and outsiders, I probably saw around 70 people turn up to class. Less than 10 were interested in martial arts.

Apart from the Federation, who I always thought were a bad deal anyway, the less-than-casual observer may note the growing presence of mainland Chinese in the little world of European Tai Chi, as well as Tai Chi Chuan. Although some of these people are actually quite good, the vast majority are simply propagating more of the same – but often with more variances on the silk pyjamas. It’s all bullshit.

The *only* people I’ve met and worked with who’ve been worth a dime are westerners and Japanese, though I should say I’ve not met everyone and I know there are good people in Taiwan. Last night I saw some of another class given by another well-dressed Chinese who is “extremely good”. More of the same. No partner work, lots of standing around. Even Anya is more active than that (ah yes but she’s a westerner).

So, I’m out. Ever optimistic (oh yes, I am!), I have hopes that the various camps may reconcile in order for the best to emerge, so that my students and everyone else’s can have access to Godfrey, Dan and maybe even Torben, via their teachers (not all of whom are now so bad). I’d like to think it can happen, but it’s not really up to me. You can bring a horse to water but you can’t make him drink! We shall see …

Polemics

I never knew this word until I came to France, arguably the heartland of “la polémique”. The American Heritage dictionary defines it as follows:
1. A controversial argument, especially one refuting or attacking a specific opinion or doctrine.
2. A person engaged in or inclined to controversy, argument, or refutation.
adj. also po·lem·i·cal (-ĭ-kəl) Of or relating to a controversy, argument, or refutation.
[French polémique, from Greek polemikos, hostile, from polemos, war.]

One of the most memorable occasions I heard it used was regarding one of my first translations of Dan’s articles (I’ll let you find which one, and why). The article is indeed polemical and perhaps not the stuff the neophyte tai chi chuanist would be interested in. I realized then, however, that polemic is an important part of our civilized, intellectual lives and that as with most things, it’s a question of how much is too much. Being a good Taoist, I would of course recommend that polemic, like many other intoxicants, be taken in moderation.

Sadly this was and is not the case concerning the recent “Tai Chi Europa 2006” (*sighs*). I suppose the hullabaloo was entirely predictable, and certainly won’t die down or even trail away quietly. No, this show is set to run and run.

For those that don’t know the story, here’s a potted version. Every 2 years the Tai Chi Federation of Europe (TCFE) runs a competition. So far there have been 3, of which I have attended 2. There’s always lots of polemic and lots of polemics, but in general it all gets done and we have a good time. The organizing principle is that the host country submits proposed rules and formats to the TCFE board and everyone discusses, disputes and finally agrees (sometimes on the very morning of the competition). That’s what didn’t happen this time, with the management of the French federation vociferously twisting history and maintaining not only the “French Exception” but also showing how this country was more or less happily able to run a fascist dictatorship in collaboration with the Nazis. I don’t mince my words – I’ve seen the e-mails, reports and articles, and heard most sides of the arguments. So, since the French fede did not work to agree, the TCFE withdrew their sponsorship of the event and the French went ahead with a different name.

For a number of years now, a group of friends and acquaintances from different disciplines have been developing their refereeing skills, generally under the aegis of the French federation. Dan was invited over last May for his input, along with Cornelia and Albert. All to no avail: the people in question, when the rules and formats they thought were agreed were ignored, modified or ditched, resigned en masse. This group of merry rebels went on to form an unofficial grouping that is now set to become an association. They are concerned essentially with pushing hands competition.

Although I don’t referee, and I don’t want to (generally disliking rules and being quite into a bit of healthy polemos), I sided with the rebels. I even wrote a hand-written letter in support (the Masters and Mistresses of the French Tai Chi Universe didn’t recognize that an email could have more than 1 signatory). And the polemical pendulum has been swinging like mad. Dear Eric went out of his way to attend the event and give us (the rebels) his report. Immediately his efforts were fire-bombed by vitriol from his own side; friendly fire as it were. The emails before and since the competition have been long, confusing, torrid affairs, tortuously twisting through point after dotted line, and IMHO typically missing the point.

Because in the end, the “truth” is subjective and most polemics are simply wasting all our time, trying to convince others of their own, subjective “truth”. We’re all wrong and we’re all right. There is a minimum of necessary discourse for organizations of people to function together. At some point there comes a gray area where one starts to scratch one’s head and wonder if anything will get done amidst the flurries of words. And then sometimes it goes beyond that. The polemic surrounding Tai Chi Europa 2006 has pushed me personally to completely disinvest in the political processes of Tai Chi Chuan. Before I felt some minimum pleasantry was necessary. Now, frankly, I just don’t want to know. As they say “à chacun sa merde”.

Chinoiseries

Contrairement à ceux qu’on fait dans les arts martiaux japonais, on a tendance à traduire les noms des techniques et d’exercices dans le taiji quan et les arts martiaux chinois plus généralement. Ceci est due au fait que la langue chinoise est bien plus compliquée (notamment grâce à des tons) et plus diversifiée (notamment avec la grande différence entre le cantonnais et le mandarin).

Néanmoins, je trouve qu’il est bien de comprendre certains termes qui sont susceptibles à être mal traduit. C’est le cas déjà des Ba jin (« huit forces ») et des Shi san shi (« Treize techniques/postures ») ainsi que la stratégie des cinq pas (voir le post ci-dessous). On évite non pas seulement des mauvaises traductions, mais aussi l’élève est obligé à entrer, peu qu’il soit, dans la culture chinoise. D’après moi, c’est essentiel si l’on veut comprendre l’art et faire des progrès. Hier j’ai parlé sur Internet avec une amie coréenne qui habite en chine, apprenant le Baji quan. Nous avons du avoir recours à des termes chinois en permanence, malgré sa commande impressionnante de la langue de Bush.

Dans mes cours je divise l’entraînement, le plus souvent, en deux. D’une part Jiben gong (« travail sur les bases fondamentaux »), associé normalement avec un travail sur les applications et le san shou (« mains qui frappent »). D’autre part Dao yin (« travail sur la conscience de la geste » … ce qui est une interprétation plutôt qu’une traduction), et Qi gong (« travail sur l’énergie interne »).

D’autres termes sont expliqués (brièvement) dans le mini-livre que je donne à chaque élève nouveau. Just pour finir – petite explication des termes que j’ai utilisé dans le post précedent :
Cha Yi – Yin et Yang se manifestent séparément (par exemple : une défense suivi par une attaque). Plutôt associé (selon certains) avec les styles externes.
Zhuan Hua – Yin et Yang se manifestent simultanément (par exemple : une défense et une attaque se passent en même temps). Plutôt associé (selon certains) avec les styles internes, car une manifestation de l’unité du Dao.

Back to the trees

So it’s the rentrée and we’re all entering back into the mad swing of non-holidays (you see I’m almost French now!). It was an up and down summer with Yin and Yang manifesting themselves more in Cha Yi than in Zhuan Hua, like the weather in Jasnières where we went from 38° to 18° in the space of a week. (Please don’t be put off by the Chinese terms – I’m putting together another blog posting with lots of this stuff explained in French).

As with all rentrées, we are seeing some new blood in the classes (not always young veins though) and we (the teachers and older students) are getting some old questions. One question, which is generally shrouded in statement, is that such and such a posture or movement is “not natural”. This is a complex question in fact, on the one hand raising the issue of just what is natural and on the other potentially calling into question the healthy benefits of practicing taiji quan. To answer the former, I would point that all human activity, from nuclear bombs and 9-11, to smoky cities and social dereliction, are all entirely natural. What else would you expect from a species that is “intelligent”, self-aware, tool-using, gregarious and competitive? This kind of response is often a bit shocking though for those naturalists who would like (and sometimes believe) that taiji really was invented by a crane and a snake, or at least uses animal movements (ah but we don’t have tails, beaks or claws and are mostly bipedal). So we have to look at the other side – that taiji quan practice is an evolved method for health and self-cultivation which, whilst remaining within the logic of Chinese medicine, uses “non-natural” postures and movements to work its magic. This is not actually totally wrong – the rub, of course, is that the postures and movements reflect martial techniques and not health exercises.

I remember a few years ago watching someone give a taiji class in a Paris park (not the jardins de Luxembourg). It was deep winter – there was even some snow on the ground. One young man, long hair natural, tangled and rather greasy, clearly thought his Qi would circulate better if he wore no shoes (or socks). His feet were quite literally blue as he bonded with the gravel and dirt below him (as well as the fag-ends, dogshit and other natural objects). This kind of approach is of course almost never found in the places where oriental martial arts originated: even the semi-mad daoist mystics had some method. The only comparison I can think of would be the annual Kyukoshinkai bash in Japan where they go doing loads of gyaku-tsukis under a freezing waterfall in a semi-frozen pond. The idea is to see how much pain they can take – nothing to do with “naturalness”.

For some reason I tend to associate the naturalists with the pacifists. Wei told me just the other day that her mother (an avid practitioner of the Jian) had explained to her how practicing taiji led to a state of inner calm, which was balanced with outer serenity. Someone should have told Yang Ban Hou, or Cheng Tin Hung (just to mention some past masters) who were known for – well, they were’nt well known for their inner and outer calm and serenity. Anger, after all, is entirely natural. So is violence and getting annoyed by fools and knaves.

IMHO, Humanity is not outside nature, and what we do is always natural, though it may not always be appropriate. Something to reflect on as you join the other worker ants bustling and hustling for survival in the urban jungle.

Teachers, Students, Friends, Masters, Disciples, Parents, Children, Lovers, Wives …

… and more. I don’t have simple relationships, most of the time. Not even with my cat (well, how complex can that be?). Like everyone else, I carry psychological baggage around that makes me want to pigeonhole people into roles that they may not want. I am glad that I’m aware of this fact, but cannot say that awareness, or even constant vigilance (you wish!) necessarily changes things.
You know of the “bell curve” effect? Standard distribution of just about anything means that the vast majority of people tend to be more or less in the middle of a range between extremes. Most people aren’t very interested or aware of the state of their own psyches, let alone those of other people. On the other hand, some people are so obsessed that they become therapists.
Those who know me well (and some who don’t plus some who think they do but don’t and others that think they don’t but do), know that I am currently studying Neuro-Linguistic Programming, and will eventually be dubbed a “Practitioner”, all things being well. It does mean that after 20 days of training, practitioners such as my good and bad selves are let loose on the general public as “coaches” (contrary to more regulated professions, where such therapists will undergo several years of training). But on a more positive note, it is helping me greatly to gain an insight into my own mind and those of other people.
They say that “you are what you do” and also that “character is destiny”. In NLP we also learn that “every action has a positive intention behind it”. The recent rioting in suburbs across France are a good example: some have said the rioters are “scum” (because of what they do) whereas others point out that there’s a reason (at least one) as to why they do it. We all have our ways of getting attention, often tried and trusted. What is your way of getting attention? Does it change in different circumstances, in different places? Does it sometimes not work? Some of the most violent and upsetting relationships will happen when two people are set in their attention-seeking ways, but the ways don’t work. Sometimes quite literally like banging your head on a brick wall. Believe me, I’ve been there.
Some of our more complicated relationships arise when someone fits more than one pigeonhole. I have students who are friends and friends who are students. In both cases, the people concerned tend to mix contexts – in class you are my student, not my friend. We both need to understand this and act accordingly. Outside class … I leave it for you to decide, if we can both separate contexts. Normally, friends stay friends and some students may become friends, though this is not so common.
In the Chinese martial arts, the teacher may be referred to as “Sifu”, which means “teaching father”. It does imply a father-like role, but not all teachers want that to be the case, and it is often unwise of the student to look for this. Chinese and Western fathers don’t necessarily have the same kind of role, and in any case Chinese culture is full of family terms to designate people who are not kin. I certainly don’t want to be any kind of a father to any of my students, partly because none of them are young enough, but also because I teach Tai Chi Chuan and not life. Looking for life lessons from your Tai Chi teacher is a common error, and can lead to terrible things.
As the teacher may be a Sifu, the student may be a “Tudi”, which means “a younger brother and follower”. Whereas there are many teachers who are called Sifu but should not be, there are not many students who think of themselves as “Tudi”. The “brother/sister” aspect implies some respect as well as the idea of belonging to a common group, a group that follows what a teacher is teaching. As a younger brother or sister, you may acknowledge that the teacher is not a father, but an elder brother or sister – a guide in other words. This is closer to the concept of Guru, but then we start getting into terminological tangles and loaded words.
My master is not a master but is. I consider myself Tudi learning from a great Sifu, who isn’t. I want to be no more than Lao shi, but for my students to be Tudi. The roles we take on, and those we expect others to take on, must be flexible and context-sensitive, just like the Long river, the long boxing. We need to understand our own nature and the characters of those around us, but also we need to understand that there will always be aspects of the psyche of which we are unaware, so that we take account of the known and the unknown. Then even our most complicated relationships can make some sense, and we can hopefully avoid the worst and live better with people.

Repetition

In one of the books I have on Chinese martial arts, there is a section called “Pugilists’ proverbs” which includes one of my favourites:
“A thousand repetitions makes the skill natural”
At one of his ‘competition’ seminars, Dan gave the example of the British Wushu team, who would run through a 5 minute form twenty times in their training on a regular basis. And those are just perfidious albionese – you can imagine what they get up to out East.
In Wudang style Tai Chi Chuan, there are three weapons forms and three hand forms. End to end, doing them all takes about 45 minutes, one time. I like to run through each form three times (of which one or two is mirror image). That’s enough to get the feel of the form and then work on some corrections, deepening the postures, and so on. Sometimes when I’m training for competition I’ll do 2x3 or 3x3 (generally on weekends!). And, frankly, this is not enough. Ideally I would want to spend around two hours on forms every day. And that’s just forms. We then need a good hour for (basic level) nei gong and a good hour for jiben gong (counting in the minimum syndical of twenty minutes punching weights). So that makes around 4 hours of solo training. You then jump in the train to go off and see your training partners for tui shou and san shou, and maybe you’ll make it to class later on to learn some more stuff, or possibly teach.
As we all know, less is more. I’m constantly trying to get students to understand this and they always want to know more and more and more. With most of them at work and play as well as studying the noble art of Tai Chi Chuan, how can they expect to be any good? If Jean is unemployed and so can practice three hours a day, why should Jeanette be upset that he has learnt more exercises then she has (Jeanette has a full-time job, children and at least two other major hobbies).
There are 24 hours in a day, 7 days in a week and (normally) 365 days in a year. No more.
There’s a story that I’ve heard in at least three guises. Take a large bowl and fill it up with large stones until you can’t put any more in. Is it full? No – take some sand and pour that in until the bowl is full of stones and sand. Is it full? Still no – take some water and you can pour it in. The moral of the story: even after a large steak and some crisps down the pub, there’s always room for another beer. An alternative moral, more apt in this context: put the big things in your life in place first, because there will always be room for the smaller things.
My teacher has made the observation that most people want to do Tai Chi, not to be good at it. If you want to be good at Tai Chi Chuan, then you have to practice, practice, practice. As with the analogy of the stream blocked by a boulder, as time goes on the water eventually wears down the rock. With time, with practice, “the jin is like one hundred times refined steel”. How good you want to be at the art depends on how big a place you’re prepared to make for it in your life. Most of us are not able to do Tai Chi full-time, so be content with a little, but do it a lot. Maybe the stone will grow.

Getting to Fight

As there is no day without night, so there is no peace without war. Once upon a time I was almost a pacifist, but this Taoist evidence stopped me from taking such a bodily leap into the land of Yin. One of the hardest things we can do, IMHO, is come to terms with violence.
There is no point refusing it, pretending it isn’t there or that it will go away. There is no point thinking it is “wrong” (though of course it might be misplaced). The key question to start with is “why”. Why does a particular act of violence occur? One should remember that we tend only to remark the out of place – the violence of cats fighting is not something the good citizens think is unnatural and wrong. Most often, we notice violence when it is out of place, according to our own point of view (and sometimes that of “society”).
I have always been quite violent. I remember breaking all the ground-floor windows of our house when I was about 5, and I remember the beating I got for it. Violence begets violence, and when the only tool you have is a hammer every problem starts to look like a nail. Although in most of my life violence is not an issue, in the nice furry world of Tai Chi Chuan, my violent nature has often been remarked – it is out of place, apparently.
Sorry sweet chicks but we’re not doing the same thing – violence is part of fighting, and fighting is part of martial arts, so my violence is very appropriate: it’s just that you guys are neither fighting nor practicing martial arts.
Dan says that to fight you need Shen (spirit, heart), Gong (capacity, ability) and Quan (technique) – in that order. Cheng Tin Hung told Tong Chi Kin to take a wide guard with one hand to the rear, since he was a vicious fighter (you’d have to knock him out to stop him) but had very weak technique. You can develop technique, and I know a number of people who have lots of it – but that’s not going to help you faced with a steamtrain or mad max. Nevertheless, this is where everyone must start, building up technique, because then you can channel your violence into something that helps you overcome it.
If you want to use Tai Chi Chuan to fight, then you start off learning applications with “one-step sparring”: one attack, one response. Most often, this is the only “martial” stuff people will learn, because their real interest is forms. With lots of practice, of all aspects of the art, the applications start to become integrated, natural reactions, executed with minimal stress even when the attack is relatively fast. So:
One-step sparring:
- start slowly and see how the technique works
- work the technique from different directions, using footwork to change distance and timing
- increase speed and power (this is where it can get a bit dangerous).
Together with one-step sparring, the potential Tai chi fighter should also be looking to develop his/her tui shou skills, following the 5 step strategy of course and avoiding resistance. Exercises such as “gyrating arms” and “5 element arm” should also be practiced. It is very important at this early stage to work on “jiben gong” so that you know how to kick and punch, and how to roll with them. You are establishing a physical and technical base on which to work.
After this initial stage where we’re putting the building blocks in place, we can start actually making things. This second stage is normally marked by Bai Shi and the start of the nei gong training. The Yin exercises help the body to heal and grow stronger, both of which are important when you start “mixing it up”. In pushing hands, it’s time to look at competition formats, especially moving step formats where throws and leg grabs are allowed, since these are key techniques for Chinese full-contact. It’s also good to practice more ‘martial’ push hands formats – for example reeling silk at speed and with real slaps to the face, fixed step with soft face strikes (open or closed hand), freestyle with closed hands.
In terms of applications, the Tai Chi fighting apprentice will be working on
- combinations and sequences
- two-step sparring (counters to counters)
- dealing with surprises
- understanding techniques from other styles and how to defend against them
- strategies and tactics
- understanding/dealing with injuries
It could well be that now we’re ready to fight – after all, you don’t want to wait until you’re forty! The key things to add to the above would be 1. the question of equipment (gloves and groin protector only, or headgear as well, foot protectors maybe?) and 2. the nei gong status. There is no doubt that the Yang exercises are extremely useful in developing striking Kung Fu. Indeed, punching weights and nei gong together constitute the key basic training in the Wudang style – Dan once told me that the first skill to develop for full-contact fighting is the ability to produce a KO with a single punch.
The process that I’ve outlined here where you’re getting to fight can take months or years, depending on the person and the amount of time they have for training. And, at the end of the day, it’s mostly about Chuan and Gong. No-one can teach you Shen – but you won’t get very far without it. I believe there’s a lot to be said for just diving in, and doing as many competitions and fights as you can find, alongside the training. In free sparring with protections, you can learn to apply technique and force, and to receive it. But nothing compares to the ring, or to the street, for solid functional learning. It’s just that that approach is rather risky. In any case, fighting is risky. But what’s life without violence?

Tai Chi et Kung Fu

Lors de mes premiers mois en France j’ai été surpris par l’absence apparente de dénomination des styles chinois. Dans tel ou tel centre, il y avait des cours de Judo, de Karaté, … et de Kung fu. Puis de Tai Chi parfois aussi. Cela ne correspondait pas à mon expérience de l’autre coté de la manche. A Londres, en faisait de la grue blanche, du Hung Gar, des 5 animaux, de la Main de Buddha, entre autres. Les cours de Tai Chi aussi étaient dénommés style Yang, Wu, Wudang etc. … mais beaucoup moins, c’est vrai. Mais personne ne faisait des cours de « Kung Fu » … car ça ne veut rien dire.
En fait oui, bien sur cela veut dire quelque chose : « le savoir faire ». Pour être au plus correct (même politiquement parlant) on dirait « kung fu wushu » - le savoir-faire des arts martiaux. Un Taiwanais dirait peut-être bien « kung fu guoshu » - le savoir-faire des arts nationaux. Aussi, il est vrai qu’au Hong Kong, dans le sud de la Chine et plus généralement dans le diaspora chinois lorsqu’on parle de Kung Fu (selon le contexte) le plus souvent on fait référence aux arts martiaux. Ainsi, le Karaté serait le Kung Fu Japonais, et la boxe anglaise (sorry !) serait le Kung Fu occidental.
Dans les cours de Dan, on commençait toujours avec la marche des sept étoiles (« qi xing bu »), suivi par des applications et autres exercices de Tui shou, le tout pimenté avec des roulades, des poiriers, des exercices avec la patte d’ours et d’autres « jiben gong ». A la fin on faisait un peu de forme – parfois plus, parfois moins. Ceux qui connaissent un peu le maître savent que les formes viennent des applications : c’était donc l’ordre des choses dans ses cours.
Aujourd’hui en 2006 je constate que pour la plupart des gens, y compris les pratiquants, lorsqu’on parle de Tai Chi on parle, en effet, des formes. La pratique de tui shou, pourtant toujours présente dans, disons 40% des écoles, reste souvent quelque chose pour les initiés ayant dix ans de pratique. La pratique martiale de l’art a disparue (sauf pour des styles peuplés d’irréductibles guerriers qui résistent encore et toujours … ), surtout en Chine populaire. Alors donc, quand on veut faire du combat à la Chinoise, on appelle ça Kung fu. Je constate aussi qu’on parle de « Tai Chi martial » : une dérive créée par le fait que le Tai Chi est devenu une gymnastique douce basée sur les formes. Comme si le Tai Chi Chuan pouvait être autre chose que martial !
Dans le Kung fu traditionnel, on fait une différence entre « externe » (Wai jia chuan) et « interne » (Nei jia chuan). Les deux approches ayant pour but de développer du Kung fu Wushu. L’externe, grosso modo, est censé se reposer sur une approche plus physique, plus orienté muscle, que l’interne, qui lui est censé être plus axé sur le développement du « Nei kung » (force interne) à travers des exercices normalement moins exigeants sur le plan physique. Il existe des différentes catégorisations : certains disent que l’externe veut dire « venu de l’extérieur » (de la Chine, l’Inde donc). On trouve aussi une distinction qui en est liée : que l’externe remonte au Bouddhisme (Inde) tandis que l’interne est associé au Taoïsme (Chine).
J’aimerais citer deux dictons « Kung Fu » : « l’externe et l’interne ne font qu’un », et « tous les Kung Fu vient de Shaolin ». Je suis d’accord pour le premier, mais non pas pour le deuxième. La théorie du Tai Chi Chuan est basé sur le jeu entre le Yin et le Yang (ce qu’on pourrait caractériser par l’interne et l’externe). Sans cet équilibre dynamique, on se retrouve soit trop endormi soit trop chargé. Dans les exercices qui font parti de l’art, dans le plus grand sens du terme, on retrouve des pratiques qu’on pourrait caractériser comme « externe » (endurcissements, travail d’endurance, utilisation de haltères, …), ainsi que des pratiques bien sur plus internes (postures, méditations, …). Alors, pour le Shaolin, ben certains disent que Chang san feng avait passé du temps au célebre temple. Peut-être bien et pourquoi pas ? Mais on ne pourrait pas dire la même chose, à ma connaissance, pour d’autres arts « taoistes », notamment les styles quasi-mythiques du mont Emei (pourtant une montage sacrée pour les bouddhistes). De toute façon, pour un sinophile, on ne pourrait jamais admettre qu’un élément culturel si important que le Kung Fu soit venu d’ailleurs. Il y avait forcément des pratiques martiales en Chine avant que Ta Mo (Bodhidharma) à mis ses pattes dans le pays du milieu.
Pour moi, en tant qu’enseignant et quelque part représentant du style Wudang, je dirais que le Tai Chi Chuan fait partie des Kung Fu Wushu, du côté des Nei Jia Quan. Dans mes cours, déjà il existe une différence : le Jiben gong/kung (« travail des bases fondamentales » … pour l’art martial) et les Daoyin (« travail sur la conscience de la geste » … mélange de qigong, assouplissements, Kung simple et technique pour les formes). On dit en anglais « If you can’t beat them, join them ». Encore une fois, pas d’accord. Je veux les changer, ces idées pernicieuses que Tai Chi égal formes. Alors, je propose une approche plus élargi dans laquelle on pratique le Nei jia chuan – en tant que « Kung Fu » et en tant que « Tai Chi ».

La stratégie des cinq pas

Nian, Lian, Mian, Sui, Bu Diu Ding
Dans le tai chi, nous appliquons une stratégie logique et consistante avec le principe primordial de l’art – la non-résistance. Cette stratégie se résume en cinq éléments :
Nian – Adhérence
C’est surtout dans la pratique de tui shou (« la poussée des mains ») que le pratiquant de tai chi entraine cette faculté. Lors d’une partie de tui shou, on utilise les mains et les bras comme les antennes, très sensibles aux mouvements de l’autre. Bien évidemment, si l’on perd le toucher, on perd aussi une grande partie de sa capacité de ressentir les mouvements et les intentions de son partenaire. Ainsi faut-il adhérer à l’autre, se coller sur ses mouvements, sans résister bien sûr.
Mais Nian n’est pas qu’une question de toucher. Dans un sens plus large, il est question de suivre l’intention de l’adversaire avec tous ses sens. A propos cela, il est utile de réfléchir sur la question d’où poser le regard lors d’un combat. Si l’on regarde l’autre dans les yeux, il se peut que l’on puisse ressentir ses intentions. Par contre, celles-ci s’exprime aussi à traver le corps ; centrer le regard sur le nombril (ou le tan tien si vous préferez) permet de surveiller tous les membres aussi que l’intention et le mouvement.
Lian – Connectivité
Le caractère chinois « Lian » désigne, à l’origine, une chaine de chariots qui se déplacent ensemble. Ainsi est dérivé le sens de Connectivité, ou de Continuité.
Adhérer et suivre les mouvements de l’autre implique des mouvements de notre part, et des déplacements de notre centre de gravité en conséquence. C’est à dire, faire des déplacements avec les pieds, le corps, les membres, tout. Le mouvement de tous les divers composants corporels, y compris le mental, l’intention, doivent se faire de manière continue, connectée.
Dans la pratique de Tai Chi Chuan, le moindre geste implique la réorganisation de toute la structure corporelle, de façon fluide et continue. Tout le corps se déplace dans un seul geste, toutes les parties coordonnées les unes avec les autres. C’est un principe de base qui revient encore et encore.
Mian – Douceur
Un des noms anciens pour le Tai Chi Chuan est « Mian Chuan », le « boxe de coton ». On dit que les bras d’un maitre de l’art ressemble à des barres de fer entourés par des riches couches de coton.
Souvent on se trompe par rapport aux idées de « douceur » dans le Tai Chi. Beacoup confondent « douceur » avec « Yin », l’extrème du tai chi (en tant que concept taoiste) et opposé à « Yang ». Nous avons déjà fait des remarques sur l’importance d’une pratique équilibrée (2.1.1). Pensons un peu plus à ce que cela implique : Rester debout exige un certain effort, ainsi que respirer. Tenir le bras devant soi exige également du Yang. Adhérer aux mouvements de l’autre, se déplacer en conséquence : ça peut être un vrai effort physique !
Le muscle d’un animal en reste n’est pas contracté, mais se transforme dans un instant pour donner une énorme propulsion dès que l’animal saut. Ainsi le bras, le corps d’un maitre de tai chi : le Yin contien l’élément de Yang et tout l’art est de comprendre les deux et savoir transformer l’un dans l’autre sans même y penser.
Le douceur dans le Tai Chi est le Yin avec un élément de Yang, plus ou moins grand mais non pas dominant (ça serait Yang …). C’est un douceur alert, élastique, fluide. C’est les quatre grammes qui déplacent le poids de mille kilos.
Sui – Suivre
Certains traduisent ce principe en « céder », mais ce mot, bien qu’il donne l’idée générale, tende aussi à faire penser à « reculer » bien qu’on pourrait faire tout à fait l’inverse. « Donner place » aux mouvements de l’autre impliquent des mouvements dans tous les sens, y compris verticalement ! Sui équivaut mieux donc à « Suivre », parce que c’est cela qu’on fait.
Bien adhérer (Nian) exige du douceur (Mian). Notre « receptivité » nous permet donc de voir les mouvements de l’autre. Pour éviter les coups d’un adversaire, nous devons aussi le suivre (Sui), en se déplacent fluidement, avec des mouvements dans lesquels tout le corps est coordonné (Lian).
Bu Diu Ding – Refus de la force « brute »
Décomposer ce terme peut nous aider à comprendre son sens. « Bu » veut dire « non », « Diu » veut dire « perdre, abandonner », et « Ding » veut dire « opposer ».
Ainsi nous avons deux concepts en un. D’un côté, il s’agit de ne pas devenir trop tense, trop Yang et ainsi perdre son adhérence, son suivi de l’autre. De l’autre, nous ne devons non pas céder vainement à une agression, mais acceuiller l’attaque de l’adversaire avec un douceur elastique qui n’oppose pas, mais détourne, rédirige…
Ces cinq principes, la « stratégie des cinq pas », dirige la pratique de Tai Chi Chuan, s’appliquant aussi bien aux enchaînements qu’au San Shou (applications martiales). Leur application est surtout entraînée à travers la pratique de Tui Shou (poussée des mains).

Love Your Students

Consider it carefully. This phrase could be taken as an injunction were I to add an exclamation mark. I could also have used 'for' to make the meaning more easily discernable. But I have done neither of these things because this is neither an order nor a suggestion. It is, perhaps a question, but not in the syntax … in the juxtaposition.
Each word here has many meanings in itself and thus the way each word works with those around it throws up a surprising number of combinations of meaning. A little like the 8 forces, the 5 steps, the 64 hexagrams and the 10,000 things.
We all have our own perspective, our own map of the territory, so we will each have a penchant for one of the possible interpretations of those words, "Love Your Students". And of course one interpretation would be that I'm joking. Another would be that I'm putting words into someone else's mouth, or playing with parody.
What does the phrase mean to you?
Love, of course, is "a many-splendoured thing", whatever that means. Indeed, discussions of the meaning of love seem to me characterised by vagueness. "Love your fellow man", "Fatherly love", "the love of a child for its parents", "Jesus loves you", "The Art of Love", “Making Love”, "Art and Love in medieval France", "The Love shop", “They love each other (once every Friday evening)”. All these phrases throw up different visions of whatever-the-hell-it-is we're talking about here. OK, so let's take "Your" - a straightforward possessive pronoun implying ownership. But maybe not with "Students", because you're not allowed to own people in most of the world, and we can assume that the reference to Students is a reference to people. Indeed, given the context, a reference to people who study the noble art of Tai Chi Chuan. We put these two words together however and contorsions and explosions are bound to arise.
A student does not belong to anyone, but is typically associated, at a given time, with one teacher or school. A lot of my basic training in London was given by Steve Wooster and Godfrey Dornelly, but I was Dan's student, wasn't I? I learnt from Dan after spending two years with one of his first students, the good(ish) Ian McMillan, he who went off the rails (yet another one). But there was no confusion since the one followed the other chronologically, like one marriage may another. But what if I am bigamous, or more, and am learning simultaneously from a number of people? Whose student am I then? Well, I belong to all of them I suppose. A child may belong to a family and not just one member of it…
The question underlying this piece then, is – what kind of a relationship can a teacher have with his/her students? The Sifu, the teaching father, presumably feels fatherly love. The humanist feels human love – being for being as it were. There are also numerous cases of less platonic loving and sometimes I wonder what kind of ‘rencontre’ certain people are seeking at ‘Rencontres Jasnières’ – and sometimes I don’t have to wonder.
Personally I’ve always felt that ‘love’ between student and teacher is not helpful to the pedagogic experience. Inevitably there’s a question of just what one is trying to achieve here and this is one place where opinions may vary. I’ve always been trying to get people in touch with their own kinesthetic competences and transfer the body of techniques and theory that I’ve learnt myself. For others (and sometimes for me too), there’s a whole social side to Tai Chi classes which naturally extends to the bar next door, perhaps the restaurant down the street, and who knows - maybe “plus si affinité”! I am not only a teacher but also (on my better days anyway) a human being. I can fully understand this chain of events. But I don’t go for it – I seem to have some weird pseudo-Confucian idea that a teacher really is a sifu-like person, and this implies a certain distance. I don’t believe I’m right about this however. Though it is common knowledge that, like psychotherapy, it is the crazies that do Tai Chi, so better stay out of those ‘Basic Instinct’ situations: full-contact is enough!
However, I also accept that definitions of love are naturally vague since different kinds of love may be present at the same time. Two people, in love, would normally be able to entertain feelings of human empathy as well. There are cases too where love may be defined from a sexual base, leading on to “higher things” (yes, vague stuff again, I know) or alternatively the other way round, where the sex is an expression of … er … god? And for some I’m sure it’s between those two extremes, or can vary according to the season, the day, the time.
Finally then, for anyone who feels like being a “pygmy detractor”, no I generally don’t have sex with my students (not all at the same time). Indeed, I would get quite guilty about that kind of thing. Now, other people’s students are of course fair game. I do not have anything to say about the doings of others. I do sometimes think to myself things like “lucky git – how does she/he do it?”, and other times my perspective will be very different. I don’t want the same thing all the time. Love is totally vague. No students are mine, but I am bound and may be binding. This is the dilemma of choice and not choice.

Internalizing Ark

I haven’t consciously, deliberately, experienced so much physical discomfort since I started the neigong training. It made me realize that I need to do more, go deeper, longer. This was one of my two great understandings from last weekend’s seminar with Akuzawa Minoru Sensei. The second was that “this guy is simply amazing!”. I’ve met various well-known people in world of internal martial arts, and mostly the reality more or less matches the reputation. Akuzawa sensei (or “Ark” as it seems he is known to some) goes beyond reputation. He is well-known for throwing people much, much heavier than him … with his little finger! Ed was talking last year already of getting him over for a seminar and he’s done the European martial arts world a great service by doing just that. Ed told me that apart from the man’s reputation his approach is uniquely interesting. With a background in Chinese internal arts (Xing Yi) and ‘ancient’ Japanese ones (Koryu budo), he has created a modern system of exercise that yields very impressive results. Apart from throwing biggies with his little pinkie, Akuzawa is also well known for having kicked some serious ass in Chinese Sanda competitions. His teaching as it was presented last weekend was based on some simple concepts and some demanding exercises that train core competencies that can be used whatever style you’re practicing. Last but certainly not least, he is a charming man and an excellent teacher – this also goes for his assistant teacher last weekend, Rob. Both are excellent martial artists – I’ve rarely seen such evident gong fu.

One of my favourite citations from Cheng Tin Hung is that “Tai Chi should never be comfortable”. Last weekend I spent over 10 hours in more or less acute discomfort, in the company of around forty other fellow sufferers from all over Europe and indeed the world (one guy came from South Africa). It was very international so of course the predominant language was English and it was a bit of a pity for those who can’t handle “la langue de Shakespeare”, especially on the first day. However, we had enough repetitions to enable the teachers to correctly correct, and for the students to experiment and experience. It was also impressive how sensei and assistant adapted their corrections to the capabilities of the students, helping strugglers to get the basics and pushing the more capable to greater things. In my case, this meant mental training – taking the pain and going through it.

So why pain? Why suffering and discomfort? Because of the nature of the exercises. It’s all about becoming conscious of and developing the central body axis, through 6 directions: up/down, left/right and front/back. Dropping the weight down so that your thighs are flat is something we do quite often in Practical Tai Chi Chuan, especially and repetitively in the nei gong. Keeping your back straight was also not new to me. What was new, and difficult, and painful, was maintaining a “piano string” of dynamic tension across the arms, from hand to hand. I’ve seen and done some of this kind of training with some Yi quan people at various workshops and exchanges over the years, and there is some of it present in Wudang style, in the “Draw the bow” exercise in the Baduan jin that we do. But it’s not quite the same – notably you don’t have to push the shoulder blades together.

Which brings me to a contemplation of the nature of “internal” in the martial arts. One chap at the seminar, notable both for his paunch and his RAF moustache, told me that he wanted light, springy weapons, so that he could transfer his Qi into them. During lunch on Sunday, I heard the memorable tale of how Bruce “Kumar” Frantzis was once “sprayed” with his teacher’s Qi. Personally, I prefer to keep my Qi to myself, apart from the occasional gift to my girlfriend. “Hoarding Qi” is referred to in the classics, and is certainly part of the practice of “internal arts”. But that’s far from all of the truth. A great classic of internet forum threads is “the difference between internal and external”. If you are tempted to ask that question, you should really have a look through the archives first since we’ve all discussed this umpteen times. Given the muscular tension involved in holding your shoulder blades together and maintaining a piano wire of tension across the arms and shoulders, some might think that Ark’s method is not internal. I would disagree with that, as would any practitioner of Xing Yi or Yi Quan, IMHO. “Internal” always involves training the Yi, the will. Difficult postures and exercises are one way of doing this – again, this is characteristic of our Nei gong training. Tension may be done externally just my muscular contraction, but what is really internal is to do this but whilst maintaining relaxation. This really is understanding Yin and Yang. In Akuzawa’s training we were trying to maintain a dynamic equilibrium between those six directions. It was fascinating, exhausting, painful and glorious. And certainly very internal.

This inspirational seminar will, I think, always hold a special place in my memory. I understood that my gong fu was elementary, and I understood, again, what internal training really means.

Just Do It !

A standard way of asking a question in Chinese is “Xing bu xing” or “hao bu hao” – “OK or not OK?”, “Good or not good?”. I doubt if the bard knew this when he penned the immortal lines “To be or not to be”. A question is the occasion where we ask ourselves what to do, and this can be quite time-consuming since we often have many alternatives, which all have different outcomes.
A lot of my Tai Chi brothers and sisters find that the doing the nei gong training, especially on a regular basis (ie. every day) is hard going. In the morning? At lunchtime? In the evening? Before class? If you’re not careful it gets to midnight and you still haven’t done it. Godfrey once told me of a time at Jasnières where he was exactly in that situation, and he’d had a few glasses of wine to boot. He fell asleep in the tortoise posture, and awoke, still in the posture, but with his head resting on the ground. Godfrey is a very special, very advanced elder brother, one of Dan’s best students in the man’s own words. Most of us don’t have that degree of will power, let alone stamina. So decide when to do it, and then do it. Don’t worry if you’re feeling tired, or something else comes up. Switch off your cell phone, go to your ‘special place’. Just do it.
A fairly well-known internal martial artist, trained in Taiwan and London, living in Paris, recently told me that one reason he no longer teaches Tai Chi is that he was attracting a lot of intellectuals who were more interested in Chinese culture than in martial art training. This is a well-known problem for us Tai Chi teachers, and something of a pedagogic challenge. Carl wrote on the forum that he no longer advertises his classes as Tai Chi Chuan, but as Neijia quan Kung Fu (nicely mixing the pinyin and wade-giles as we do so often). I have tried to separate Form and Function in my classes, but that doesn’t really work either. The very concept of Tai Chi, even in martial clothing, seems to attract people who want to work out how it works, rather than just doing the work and letting it work. Some of my Tai Chi brothers and sisters are formidable intellectuals and can tell you all the names of all the techniques (and all the names of all the people who can do them) but have no basic gong fu. As a teacher in the Wu lineage, I have recently started asking myself if the square form is really that useful for the intellectual students, since the very fact of decomposing the movements can lead to those questions – my right hand is turned towards or away from my face, or my chest? Xing bu xing? Read the books, watch other students, ask your teacher, whatever … but for goodness’ sake, just do it.
In NLP there are basically three “perceptual systems”: Visual, Auditory and Kinesthetic. There are also Olfactory and Gustatory. These are common to all animals. Something that interests me greatly is what they call Auditory Internal Digital – essentially when you’re talking to yourself, and this seems quite specific to humans. “Digital language” means language that is neutral in sensory terms, so in AID you’re asking yourself those questions (see above). Hao bu hao? In the fifteen-odd years that I’ve been teaching Tai Chi I’ve seen this in a majority of my students (maybe it’s my fault). People who are immobile, separated from their body, asking themselves what they are supposed to be doing, rather than just doing it. As I said to Guillaume yesterday, don’t talk – do Tai Chi!
Modern life can be a complex affair and can lead to lots of energetic muddles in our heads. Sport in general is a great way to unload our mental burdens and “get physical”. This is just as true for Tai Chi training as it is for weight-lifting or football. One of the things that makes Tai Chi so special however is that it is relatively complicated, with lots of movements in lots of different exercises. However, it is your body, not your mind that will master this complexity. Tai Chi training involves listening to your body, not your internal dialog (“the babbling monkey”). You will make mistakes, forget bits of the sequence and that’s OK – you will be corrected if you follow your teacher. The key is to work with your body to imbibe it with the key principles (such as alignment, yielding or jin), and then let the body express those principles in the prescribed movements. Don’t think about it, just do it.

Victory and Defeat

“…
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same:
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
…” (From ‘If’ by Rudyard Kipling)

Well there wasn’t much triumph or disaster at the recent French national Tai Chi championships, but there was as usual some cause for reflection, and some pointers for those seeking victory (I don’t think anyone was seeking defeat).
Dominique and Ladan were in the same forms competitions, with the former coming first and the latter last (or nearly), quite systematically. What does this mean, if anything? Well, broadly speaking I would agree that the one performed “better” than the other. However, I don’t believe that either really deserved their rankings. The former was (and has always has been) after medals. The latter was by far the more courageous and, in a sense, was the greater winner.
Dan said recently that the aim of doing a competition was “medals”. A few years ago he said “experience” (he’s good at one word answers). This was the case with Dominique and Ladan.
“Normally” (which means in general, outside ‘the French exception’), forms are judged openly with points being shown after a competitor has done their thang. A Judging committee only meets if there is a wide disparity in the scores. Not last weekend, where the discussion circle of the wise and sagacious heads of the French federation met after all competitors had been through, in order to decide who should get what. Not exactly transparent, but then neither were our Russian friends in 2004, where even in Tui Shou the referees kept the scores to themselves and the competitors had little or no idea what they needed to go to get on to the next round. One of the esteemed elders on the French jury last weekend used to compete, and always got a gold medal in the French competitions but in no others. Perhaps it was just co-incidence that her teacher was always on those jury tables. Another sagacious one has a vested interest in certain people being in certain positions, all the more to bolster her own position (which is now more than ever threatened by the invading hordes). Yet another is a personal friend of the gold medalist, who I noticed smiling (serenely) at the camera, instead of looking at what she was doing with her saber. I did see other competitors from other styles who were more focused, more precise, more martial, better balanced and better structured than Dominique – but she definitely took the prize for dress sense (worth 10% of the points).
In fixed and ‘free’ pushing hands, I was matched with Philippe Danel (one of the “quatre philippes”) and a guy named Abdou, trained in Chinese boxing and wrestling. Unsurprisingly, he won through in the ‘libre’ (moving step with throws, sweeps and leg grabs). Unsurprisingly, Philippe was defeated (he doesn’t do much at all of the moving step stuff). In the fixed step, unsurprisingly, Abdou was defeated (they don’t stand still in shuai jiao). Between myself and Philippe it was the same old story: we’ve crossed hands on a good few occasions, and it’s usually 50-50 (except in Russia where sensitivity was not so important). We went to the 30 second tie break which he won by 1 point. It could have been the other way round, but I got a couple of faults for grabbing and pulling, which I discovered, you were allowed to do but only if there was movement first. I pointed out to the ref. that grabbing and pulling is, in fact, movement … and was told to be more sensitive. The ref, dear Eric, had earlier been very put out (he’s a sensitive guy) when I put a lock on his elbow as we were practicing.
There were three of us, only, equally and inequally matched, with rules that turned and twisted like the yellow river. I don’t consider that any of us won or lost.
The famous and dead Chinese master, Zheng man qing (Cheng man ching) provided the tai chi with an oft-cited saying: “Invest in Loss”. Apparently this is a bad translation. Also I would add a rider: “Invest in Loss, but try to win”. Defeat is inevitable as we gain experience. Babies don’t know how to do forms or win push-hands competitions. Everyone has to start somewhere and I am proud for both Ladan and Nathalie because they bit the bullet and got out there for their first taste, their first steps in competition experience. Few people get anywhere the first time, but these two deserve applause for just doing it. And I think they both found it’s not as bad as all that.
I’ll finish with an anecdote taken from one of Henry Plée’s excellent ‘Chroniques’. He tells the story of a French karate champion, who won his competition by a knock-out – his own. The competition format excluded excessive contact, so his opponent was disqualified for having knocked the guy out.

What’s Wu ?

I shall never forget Billy Tse because he is the only person to have ever pinched my buttocks. We arrived for the ‘International Wu style Meeting’ and met the president, Delphine Bart, who introduced us to Billy. He asked if I’d brought our music with us and when I replied “no” he turned me by the shoulder and pinched my ass. What a naughty boy! Well I guess this sort of thing is OK in Hong Kong so fair enough – I will have to sort out some music one day since so many people seem to want it. With Billy was a gentleman from Hong Kong who, I was told, was a practitioner of Cheng Tin Hung style – ie. Wudang style, same as us. However, not all of the old man’s students want to go with that … which was why we got invited in the first place.

A curious event this Wu meeting – firstly to my mind because there was no-one from the Wu family styles present. It was more of a Ma style meeting, with a couple of honored guests. For those not aware of the history, Wu Quan Yu, a student of Yang Ban Hou, was responsible for creating what is now called the “Northern Wu” style, essentially based in Beijing and of which the late Wang Pei Sheng was probably the most famous exponent. One of Wu Quan Yu’s sons, Wu Jin Quan moved south to Shanghai, and taught generally in the South of China (including Hong Kong), from which we get the “Southern” Wu style. This is what most people think of as Wu style, and is still taught by the Wu family who have been based in Toronto now for quite a few years. I’ve had the pleasure of meeting and conversing with Gary Wragg, their representative in Europe, and have a good idea of what they do – it is quite similar to Wudang style – hand form, sabre form, sword form, 24 exercise neigong. Wu Jin Quan had 3 children – 2 boys and a girl – of which the elder boy naturally became the gatekeeper. The daughter married one of Wu Jin Quan’s students, Ma Yueh-Liang … and thus Ma style Wu was born. In the mid-80s they sent their second son, Ma Jiang Bao, to Europe to spread the style around. On a last historical point, it is worth pointing out that Eddie Wu (current Wu family gatekeeper) admitted in an interview recently that, for a brief period, Cheng Tin Hung had been the gatekeeper of Wu style Tai Chi. I forget the details as to why. It is worth noting that CTH was very famous in Hong Kong, not to say notorious, partly because of his “je t’aime moi non plus” relationship with the Wu family. To this day, people do refer to “Wudang” style as being “Wu style, Cheng fashion”.

At the meeting last Sunday, the Chinese lady from the states was clearly in the mainstream of Wu (family) style. The gentleman from Hong Kong was doing something that vaguely resembled what I’ve been taught: well it was Tai Chi at least, I think. But for the most part this was Ma style Tai Chi and Wu Shu (Shaolin quan), in roughly equal measures. Billy had told me earlier on the phone that there would be some “Kung Fu” demonstrations to keep the audience interested. I surmised that this meant that the “Tai Chi” side would be all forms. I was almost right – there was just one demonstration of Ma style push-hands (sorry, but if Wudang is not Wu, then neither is Ma) with Ma Jiang bao throwing students around in a pretty impressive way (but you can never really tell unless you’re on the receiving end). Ah, there was also one demo where the young “Kung Fu Man” showed some applications, very slowly.

I’m heartily sick of Tai Chi forms in demonstrations and competitions because it gives a false impression of the art (most people think Tai Chi = Form, unsurprisingly given the demos that they see). But at least comparing forms is a useful way of comparing evolutions in styles, and can, perhaps, give some indication of martial ability. In Sundays’ demonstrations, one young man got the end of his sabre cut off – maybe that’ll teach him not to use weapons made from tin foil. More generally with the forms, it seemed to me that the lady doing Wu style was far closer to what I’ve been taught than the gentleman from Hong Kong, who’s supposed to be doing the same style as me.

It reminds me of a story I once heard from Dan. Cheng Tin Hung was walking in a park in Hong Kong with a friend and saw some people practicing sword form. “Hmm” he said “that form looks familiar – almost like what I teach”. It turned out that the teacher in the park was a student of a student of Cheng Tin Hung. Thus change happens. We do not want to fanatically mimic what the grandmaster was doing half a century ago. Martial arts are living things which change with time (part of the reason I find the various “Original Yang Lu Chan” styles to be laughable, even if some their exponents are skilled martial artists). So, interestingly enough, it would seem Wudang style – as taught by Dan Docherty - is far closer to Wu family style than what the Ma’s are doing, and that Cheng Tin Hung’s teaching has evolved in various ways according to his students and to the way in which he taught different things to different people. So some parts of the Ma form appeared to me a little like Wu/Wudang square form … but then that’s the only form that Irving Leong ever learnt (Montreal, another CTH student), so maybe that’s the same with the Mas? On that note, I learnt on the forum that it is only since Eddie Wu has been gatekeeper that the Wu family have taught round form to anyone except a few family members.

It would appear then that a lot of people have not had a “complete transmission” and that very, very few people in the world of Tai Chi Chuan have any notion of martial application. The result is that in one style, with different students of a single teacher, you get a variety of results – one the one hand strongly focused forms full of applications and martial intent, and on the other softened out square form where the hands go left then right and it looks great.

My last demo of the three days was the advanced short form, which I’ve always enjoyed doing fast (or rather, with clear variations in speed). I made it clear that the applications were there, and even gave a Chen-like smack with the famous “bras d’honneur” movement. I ended up feeling like I was doing Kung Fu.

Filz Blog - le retour

Well, the serendipity app on my free account clearly got it's PHP in a twist, so here I am on a famous, hosted and hopefully secured server ... so there should be no more crashes!!
I still have the originals of most of my previous posts and will put them up "as time goes by".
I do encourage you to make comments (Philippe told me it's not a real blog unless you do), so please do indulge in your English skills - or French, what do I care. I write in English because it's a lot faster for me and this blog is above all about expressing myself.
So, be seeing you, and hearing from you.
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