Yang 64: Shaky Stances and an Open Heart

I'm working through sections 1 & 2 of Yang 64. My focus today is getting my stances firmly underfoot. Its all starting to come back to me. I've found bow and feel rooted. My stepping isn't graceful; I'm totally bobbing up and down, not staying level at all. But that's okay -for now. My cat stance is shaky too. Outside of tree pose in yoga, I haven't had a need to balance on one foot. But again, its all coming back to me. My body is remembering -quickly- what its supposed to do and where its supposed be.

As I'm moving through the postures, focusing on my feet and legs, I notice at some point during section 2 that my hands are all up in my face. That's a no-no. The hands in this form (dare I say all forms) are supposed to guard the heart. My heart is completely open to anyone's strike at this point. As a writer, I really want to go off on a tangent on that one, but I won't. At least not today. I've decided that I can be vulnerable today; ignore my hands (in their need to guard and write) and leave my heart open. I need to get my footing straight. Tomorrow, I focus on protecting my core.

White Sprout

I treasure my belts. They hang in my closet along with my clothes. As I contemplated my practice for today I started to wonder what each meant. I know what I had to do to earn each, but I wanted to know if there was some significance to each color.

The belt system began near the turn of the 19th century by a Japanese master of judo named Dr. Jigoro Kano. Most martial arts systems start with a white belt. Like most things in the martial arts, the meaning of a white belt mimics nature; in this instance, a seed that is just sprouting. The new student is a beginner in this new world and they are searching for knowledge as they begin to cycle through the system.

In the Shaolin Tai Chi system, a new student starts as a no belt in a white uniform, or gi. I'm beginning my practice by reviewing my white to yellow, or gold, sash material. To go from no belt to a gold sash in the Shaolin system, one must successfully demonstrate to two sections of the Yang 64 Tai Chi form and two sections of the I Chin Ching -more on that later.

I've been studying the Yang form since I was a teenager. First on a VHS tape with that I no longer have and can't remember the title. Then there was a hole in the wall school in Farragut West that only taught the Yang 64 form and push hands for those who mastered the Yang. I really appreciated many of the teachings of that school. The teacher, Scott Rodell was his name, really emphasized muscle memory. We slowly built up from 1 minute to 5 minutes of sitting in horse stance and bow stance and others in an effort to learn the material. Those long, sweaty moments taught me why this was an internal art. The discomfort (read *pain*) was truly all in my head. To this day my body still remembers what a correct stance feels like thanks to Mr. Rodell.

I'm trying to step my way back to mastery belt by belt. So today when I began my practice, I decided to limit it to two sections of Yang 64, which is the requirement to advance from no belt to gold sash. From my first step I realized immediately that my stance was way too narrow. I was stepping shallowly, almost like a timid maiden. I decided to go way to my roots and just sit in stances. I'm at the stove cooking dinner while standing in an appropriately spaced 60/40 bow stance. I'll tackle the dishes in a horse stance. We're having rice for dinner.

Setting Intentions

"It was morning, and the new sun sparkled gold across the ripples of a gentle sea. A mile from shore a fishing boat chummed the water, and the word for Breakfast Flock flashed through the air, till a crowd of a thousand seagulls came to dodge and fight for bits of food. It was another busy day beginning.

But off alone, out by himself beyond boat and shore, Jonathan Livingston Seagull was practicing."
                                                             ~"Jonathan Livingston Seagull: a story" by Richard Bach

My intention is to practice.

I have a busy schedule, a lot of responsibilities and copious titles. Twenty hours a week teaching, ten hours for graduate school, single mother, breadwinner, I'm supposed to start dating again soon, the floors need scrubbing, did I feed the turtle?

At the dawn of each day, I am pushed and pulled by waves and currents. Still my intention is to practice.

My goal is to practice everyday, but that's a long range goal. Right now,  my intention is to mark my progress weekly. That might mean I practice three days; or I read the texts and thinkings on internal arts; or I talk to one of my teachers. One day I will arrive at my goal, but for now I will rebuild my foundation with intention, with consistency, with practice.

I am a first degree black sash in Shaolin Tai Chi and I have been out of practice for two years. More than that really because I took a brief detour into the external arts. I learned that I don't like hitting people. I enjoyed learning to defend myself, but I detest inflicting pain upon another person. So I'm returning to my roots (in more ways than one).

I studied Shaolin Tai Chi under Master Michael Reid for over five years. Then I moved away. There is a Shaolin school within walking distance from where I live, and though the teachers and students there were welcoming, it never clicked as home. A yoga teacher once said to me that when you find your guru they look at you and they see you. Master Reid looked at me and he saw me. Though we are over 500 miles apart I know he still sees me. And when I called him up out of the blue, aching to reconnect to the art, he told me that I needed to practice; that I have enough material to work on on my own. So...

Tomorrow I will begin my practice.

"Look with your understanding, find what you already know, and you'll see the way to fly." "Jonathan Livingston Seagull: a story" by Richard Bach