Stepping Issues

I'm still here! Its just my last week before the kids get back from Camp Grandma's and I'm trying to make the most of it!

So I'm having issues with stepping in Yang 64. I am so wobbly stepping into these sunken stances. I'm going through my notes trying to recall warm up exercises or leg strengthening exercises from when I started my practice.

Currently I feel like a toddler learning to walk from crawling. I know my stepping is supposed to go skin-muscle-bone, but I have to plant my heel hard otherwise I topple over. And its doubly frustrating because I'm not a schlob! I do 90 minute yoga classes. I run. I hiked 8 miles in the WV mountains this past weekend with no issues. Why's it so hard to take steps with bent knees?

Any suggestions gurus, sifus, masters?

38 Days of Tai Chi -Ward Off

Postures 3 and 4 are called Ward Off.

Ward Offs are used to deflect a chest strike. The key to avoiding the strike is not in the arms, which is lucky for me because I lack upper body strength.

No, the key in the legs. You must root yourself to the earth. Sinking into a stance makes you strong. This is great news for women since most of our strength comes from our lower body. More proof that when we connect ourselves to Mother Nature we receive her protection.

On another note!

I asked the college where I teach if I could offer 30-minute Tai Chi classes to students and staff. I've learned that only when I teach information do I gain any mastery over it.

It will be a free will offering and the benefit will largely be mine!

Back to Chi

Vacation's over. Kids are gone to Camp Grandma. I'm headed back to Chi.

This week, I'm going to focus on the four essentials of Yang 64, which are the next four positions in the Yang form.

Ward Off

Rollback

Press

and Push






I'm also training for a half marathon that takes place in my hometown of Annapolis this December. I have a goal of running 30 minutes three times this week. Right now I've cosigned onto the Galloway plan of run/walking a ratio of 2:1 which sets me running a 12 minute mile comfortably. I don't have a time goal. I just want to finish and run as much of it as possible.

38 Days of Yang: Rising Posture

POSTURE 2: Rising Posture

The second posture in Yang is the Rising Posture aka The Beginning Posture. There's a lot going on between this posture and the third, which begins the four essential movements of the form. This posture has always made me think about Ra's journey from the underworld on the path of the Sun.

First your hands rise from the Preparation Posture.

Then they sail towards your body.

And finally, they sink down again.

Just like the sun rises and falls each day; just like Ra traveling on his barge.

Chen says the purpose of this posture is to open and relax the wrists, which makes sense as the wrists rise, stretch and flex during this journey. But as I read Chen says the wrists go through six changes from Preparation to the end of the Rising posture. I hadn't noticed that before today. The funny thing is that I have each change underlined in my book, but today is the first day, that I can recall, actually noticing this minute movement.

38 Days of Yang -Opening Position

POSITION 1: Opening Position aka Preparation Posture

There are so many things going on in this seemingly simple posture.

• Head floats up like a ballon.
• Sacrum sinks down to the ground
• Tongue at the roof of your mouth
• Shoulders down
• Finger tips pointing slant forward

And that's all before you actually move!

"From the state of attention, first shift the weight to the right leg. Bend the leg slightly and sit on it. Lift the leg and move it one step to the side. Then shift the weight to the left leg. Raise the right toe and turn it to the front, placing it straight ahead."

For me this takes two breath cycles. One to prepare myself; one to begin.

The opening position is all about getting the practitioner ready for moving the chi throughout the body.  Its the weigh station for the yin and yang to separate says Cheng Tzu in the book "Cheng Tzu's Thirteen Treatises on T'ai Chi Ch'uan." I'm thumbing through my worn copy of the quintessential volume as I prepare myself to study all 38 positions of the Yang form.

Chen muses that during this opening or preparation posture, he is waiting for the opponent's move. In the early stages of my practice I always envisioned an opponent opposite me. I did this to remind myself that Tai Chi was still a warrior's study. I like making it pretty, but that imaginary opponent reminded me that these moves were still martial.

On another note...
Its my first day without yoga. I thought I'd feel guilty. I don't. I just wanted to rest. Its my first "real" day of vacation. School's out -at the college where I teach and grad school where I attend. I had one virtual meeting that took 30 minutes. Right now, at 7pm, I'm still in the pajamas I woke up in. That's rare for me. I scheduled this day as a day of rest and I see that I truly needed it!

Beginning Again...again

Aargh!

Yep, that's how my day started. I've never had a lot of patience for beginnings. I always wanted the event to start, the story to begin, to just get on with it and get into the middle of it all. I remember, while learning Yang, I would look over at the advanced students with weapons in their hands. I'd think to myself, as soon as this instructor finishes droning on about body placement and alignment we can get to the next posture, and the next, and pretty soon we'll be done with this form and I can pick up a dagger.

This morning, I picked up my dagger. I stood and visualized so much of the middle and the end of the form. But then, I couldn't move. I could not remember the beginning. I could remember the transition step out of the beginning and into the first strike. I could remember the end. But I could not figure out how I was supposed to start!

Its a between the chest hug the moon sorta movement, but my hands kept getting mixed up in a whirl pool motion. Frustrated, I tossed my dagger down and picked up the big guns. My beautiful sword. And you can guess what happened. The record's on repeat: I could remember the middle, the rainbow move with the sword, the weaving steps of the end, but for the life of me I couldn't remember how to begin.

Its two weeks before I meet up with the local guru. I shudder to think about going there empty handed -literally! Maybe I'll just work on my I Chin Ching. Can't really go wrong with those. I just need to refuse to get discouraged and slip back into my old habit of pretending this is not really what I wanted, and then move onto the next thing...

Embracing Pain

...well, maybe not embracing it. More like, paying attention to it.

I'm lucky enough to have some of my guy friends keeping an eye on this blog as my Accountability Partners. Spoiler alert guy-friends, I'm gonna talk about 'female problems.'

Hot Yoga Challenge: Day 13 -yeah, in a row!
So my dear Aunt Flow came to visit me last night. She's sticking around for a couple of days...you still with me guys? With Flow came that throbbing low back ache that we woman know and hate so well. I usually use Flow's visit to bow out of any exercise. I told myself: not today. I had the day off, but it took me until 6pm to pep talk myself into driving to the Hot Yoga studio and enter the room. The instructor told me to "back off and take it easy" today.

I listened.

I paid attention to my body -specifically to the pain. About ten minutes in, I noticed that the pain was gone. For the next 80 minutes, I kept paying attention, kept looking for the pain, but it had left my body. I felt fantastic! I still heeded the instructor's words to take it easy. Ofcourse, thirty minutes after the final savasana, once out of class and feeling so good, I wasn't paying attention to the absent pain anymore and the low throb came back! But that was still a good lesson.

Embrace what hurts. Pay attention to it. And it just might go away...for some time.

TAI CHI UPDATE
This was not a good week for me in the Tai Chi department. But like I said in my last post, I need to have a pair of eyes on me. I've scheduled some time with the local Shaolin Guru. In the meantime, I'm going to try again and jump back into Yang...maybe I'll take out a dagger or my sword. Playing with the weapons might motivate me.

Meeting Resistance

Marathoners get to a place called The Wall. Its a place, maybe in the middle, maybe near the end, that they reach and then can go no further. There are physiological reason to this phenomena. With me, I think its just mental.

I jump into things feet first with intentions of full commitment and zealousness. I truly believe each time that I will not come up against a wall. And each time, I get smacked into the head with a Wall.

I have not felt like doing anything these last few days. I'll stand up to move and then feel paralyzed. I'll actually move, screw up, and then throw my hands up and stop. I'm doubting my memory. I'm second-guessing my movements. I'm mad at myself for forgetting and not honoring the knowledge that has been given to me over the years. I get really mean towards myself when I come to my Wall; each and every time. This is usually the place where I rewrite history and say I wasn't really committed in the first place and therefore can give it up for what I truly am committed to; then move onto the next thing. Do you see how a pattern could emerge from this type of thinking? Do you see how I could freely then leap to a new obsession and jump in feet first with zealous, committed intentions.

I'm at my Wall. I'm not gonna turn away. But how do you bust down a Wall?

Well, today I just stopped. Sat down. And breathed.

I recognized that I'm most afraid of getting it wrong. Of thinking that I'm right, practicing what I think is right over and over again, and then being told that I'm wrong. Its a real fear for me because I got something wrong in front of the Senior Master Teacher before and I've never let it go. I can shrug about it, make jokes about it, but I know that I will never not be affected by that moment.

That's not something that's gonna change over night. My short term solution? Get a pair of eyes on me. I think its time go see the local guru...

HOT YOGA CHALLENGE: DAY 9
My Wall reared up in yoga class too. My mind is reeling at me to leave the room. To stop in the middle of a pose and lay down in Savasana and not come out. To sleep in today. To not come back the next day. I just go into the room and breath. The teachers know me now and their eyes are on me. They're cheering me on. That helps a great deal. That's when I knew what to do at my Tai Chi Wall.

Constantly Changing

How can something be the same and different at the same time?

In addition to my Tai Chi practice, I decided to embark upon a 30 day Hot Yoga Challenge. I read an article in O Magazine about a woman who did a 60-Day Bikram Yoga Challenge and said it changed her life. A changed life is all well and good, but what I'm hoping for is consistency. I've had such issues over the last two years with maintaining consistency. I worked really hard for years to earn my black sash, and then I just let it go. Granted, there were extenuating circumstances: messy divorce, cross-country move, and deaths in the family to name the major circumstances. But my practice used to be my escape. I have missed it everyday, but I didn't move. Day in and out, I didn't raise a fist. Time after time, I didn't step into a stance.

I forgive myself for that. I've been carrying a lot around. I'm hopping that 30 days of hot yoga will cleanse me inside and out. I'm gonna start this. I'm gonna finish it. I will be a changed woman, in the sense that I will once more able to hold onto the juxtaposing force that is constant and ever-changing.

Yoga Challenge: Day 1 
In Hot Yoga, they make you look into the mirror. If you are caught trying to hide behind someone, either the teacher will move you or the 'helpful' person in front of you will smile and move themselves over. I did not want to spend 90 minutes glaring at broken down with a few extra pounds me.

When I entered the studio, the space was wide open; only about three students had come in. I sat down, making sure to leave a prime space in front of me in hopes that someone would swoop it up. No one did. I was a few minutes early, so I decided to spend the time meditating. Closing my eyes, avoiding the woman in the mirror, I began thinking about change. I decided to set an intention of gradually shedding the dead layers of old me. I envisioned new me, consistent me, slowly emerging as the dead skin was washed away along with the sweat generated from the 105 degree temperature.

The teacher came in, I opened my eyes, looked in the mirror and smiled. All I saw was my potential. The reflection smiling back at me encouraged me through every move and I felt such peace in that sweltering room, contorting my body in ways that bulged the fatty tissues.  But I kept looking at the smile in the mirror, and hearing the intention I had set in my head.

Ninety minutes flew by. I'll be back for more tomorrow.

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.