11.30.07
Posted in Martial Arts, Taijiquan, History, Weakness, Daoism at 2:13 pm by Scott P. Phillips
I’ve been looking for information on Daoist ritual shoes. I was sure that somewhere I’d seen special Daoist ritual shoes which are 3 inch high stilts. These shoes make it impossible to put weight on the toes or the heel since the stilt post goes down from the center of the foot. Since the base the the stilt is thicker at the bottom, kind of like a mushroom, there is a plenty of space to balance. The problem is I have been unable to find these shoes (so no picture). Did I dream them? How embarrassing.
Dream or not, these shoes represent ultimate shamanic power. The symbolic steps Daoists take in ritual cover huge distances. They circumambulate the empire, the world, and they traverse the distances between stars in the sky.
It gets confusing. Daoists are not shaman, but there is a part of Daoist ritual in which they take on the role or the position, or more accurately, the qi of all shaman. This is done by taking on the physicality of the Chinese prehistory shaman the Great Yu, and acting out key parts of his life. The difference between normative shamanic power and a Daoist embodying the Great Yu is the difference between power and potential power.
There is a direct parallel with taijiquan and other internal arts. First a taijiquan student develops the ability to clearly and unambiguously demonstrate and replicate peng jin , lu jin, an jin, and ji jin (ward-off, rollback, etc…). To get these types of power one must know exactly which part of the foot to use. Then he or she strings peng-ji-lu-an seamlessly together so that these types of power are part of a continuous circle. To achieve this one must be continuously shifting from the ball of the foot to the heel. Once this jin level is achieved the student then moves on to the shi level. Shi roughly means potential, it implies a strategic position, a drawn bow, and having ones hand on a lever.
The jin level is like shamanic power. The shi level leaves power unexpressed, unused.
Shaman get power through covenants with spirits, deities, or even natural forces. The physical “fear and trembling” necessary for summoning shamanic power requires engaging the “pushing and pulling muscles” of the legs which involves pressure in the balls of our feet or in our heels. With these Daoist ritual shoes on, our legs would easily stay in a weak potential state. At the shi level of taijiquan we do not push from the balls of the feet or the heels. Our power remains potential.
UPDATE 12/21/07: Here is a picture of the shoe, it’s called a Manchu Shoe. I have now written more on this subject!
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11.29.07
Posted in Health at 2:49 pm by Scott P. Phillips
If you are making offerings or commitments (bowing, praying, sacrificing, burning incense) to a teacher or an idea or a deity, or any unseen force–be explicit and upfront with your students. If they are expected to make the same commitments make that clear at the beginning. Do not include students in your commitments or covenants with out their permission.
The above paragraph is a rule. But I’ve been having trouble pinning down a rule with regards to subordination and pain.
What makes qigong work is unknown. Pain is so utterly un-transferable to others that we can not measure change in another persons pain level. Pain is highly subjective, but fortunately, subjectively felt pain is what matters.
How can I say people shouldn’t subordinate themselves to something if in the process they end up reporting less pain? or more friends? or deeper bonds? I know I’m not half as good as some teachers are at getting students to change their behavior. Are some teachers lying to people for ‘their own good?’
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11.28.07
Posted in Health, Martial Arts, Taijiquan, Flexibility at 5:12 pm by Scott P. Phillips
The Chinese term for the lower back kidney area is mingmen which means “the gate of fate.” The name implies the Chinese notion that prenatal qi, yuanqi, is stored in the
kidney system. The kidneys regulate fluids in the body and they also produce jing. Jing is that aspect of qi which comprises the self reproductive quality in nature, it is stored in the kidney system where it is available both for making babies and for making repairs. Jing produces new tissue when we are injured, bone, muscle, scabs, etc. It is our ancestral memory.
The number one purpose for studying martial arts is to not have a rigid fate. I wish more schools explained this up front. This idea is closely linked to the area known as the mingmen. When the lower back is stiff and deficient we literally have a rigid fate.
How is it possible that a person gets stuck on an idea in their twenties and despite heaps of evidence which accumulates during their lifetime which contradicts that idea, they still cling to it. Traditionally these rigid ideas or notions or ideologies have been conceived as hungry ghosts or wandering demons that are invisible to us but slowly eat away at our kidneys whenever we “check out.” By “checking out” I mean staying up too late, forgetting to eat, taking drugs, or unleashing political rants. The day after we become food for little hungry demons, our lower back gets stiff and starts to hurt.
I don’t think there is a perfect correlation between physical rigidity and a person’s inability to freely make choices based entirely on what is real. There is some correlation, but I’ve met some amazing people with pretty screwed up bodies. Still, sit-ups are dumb. Six-pack abdominal muscles are O.K. against a boxer with gloves on and that’s it. Like the “core-strength” fad, sit-ups break the unity of a person’s body, they restrict the freedom of the torso and they tighten the breath. Why choose a rigid fate?
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11.27.07
Posted in Martial Arts, Taijiquan, Bagua zhang, Weakness at 1:51 pm by Scott P. Phillips
Several years ago, one of my advanced Baguazhang students said to me, “My ankles are wiggling all the time and I’m completely unstable on my feet.” It was a break-through for her. She was experiencing things as they are, ziran. This is high level gongfu, this is the purpose of cultivating weakness.
A person standing on two feet is an unstable structure.
There is no such thing as balanced movement. There is only unbalanced movement. The feeling of balance is the result of an unconscious process in which we are constantly readjusting. Fear of falling causes us to develop foot and leg muscles which are constantly at work to keep us feeling balanced. What most people call “rooting” in martial arts is simply a continuation of this process.
One of the reasons the higher levels of martial arts are so hard to achieve is because we are afraid to give up this unconscious reliance on our legs for balance.
Toddlers balance by moving their torsos while their legs remain soft and springy. In Taijiquan we say, “Move from the tantian,” but most people use their leg muscles for balance and power which limits the expression of the tantian. To achieve the higher levels of martial arts the legs must be part of the movement of the “tantian,” not a separate force. If toddlers can do it, so can you!
The way I learned Baguazhang, I was told to always be “on balance,” and to always be able to “turn on a dime.” Thus forward motion was propelled by twisting and pulsing the legs. There is a Yin style Baguazhang school in San Francisco that teaches the opposite. They teach that one should always be leaning so that one’s spirals will be driven by the momentum of falling. Both these ideas are missing the mark.
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11.26.07
Posted in Health at 4:41 pm by Scott P. Phillips
Chris at Martial Development asked people to try their hand at self-criticism. But gee, isn’t calling my blog Weakness with a Twist enough for you?
I’ll admit to this: I’m behind on my blogging schedule because while going through security at the Airport I accidentally traded laptops with a woman from New Jersey. Our laptops looked identical on the outside and I guess the security people were re-viewing things randomly. We got on different planes to different parts of the country. She didn’t notice until she was on the plane, and I didn’t notice until I got her call six hours later.
The lesson: Put a cool sticker on your laptop.
I’ll admit to this too: I have a Japanese style spray toilet. I am not a hairless wonder. After using a spray toilet at home for over a year now, I am at a loss to understand how other “people of hair,” cope with just toilet paper. The spray toilet comes under the general purview of the Toilet God. I believe that the slow adoption of the spray toilet worldwide means that it is our duty to ritually promote the Toilet God to a higher rank in the Daoist Pantheon in recognition of the higher level of technology involved and to speed the spread of this wonderful devise.
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11.23.07
Posted in Health, Daoism at 5:36 pm by Scott P. Phillips
This is a continuation of my series on basic facts about Daoism.
All Daoist’s recognize Zhang Daoling as the first Tianshi, which means Celestial Master. The title Tianshi was first given to Daoist priests by the emperor during the Song Dynasty (960-1279 CE) in acknowledgment their ritual mastery (shi) of the Celestial (tian) realm. The title was then applied retroactively one thousand years, all the way back to Zhang Daoling. Zhang is the founder of religious Daoism who met with Lao Jun (Lord Lao), the source of the Daodejing, on mount Heming (Heron Call) in the Year 142 CE and formed the Covenant of Orthodox Unity. (See article Zhang Daoling.)
There are many Tianshi lineages but there is one individual in each generation who is the central Tianshi. This person comes from a continuous family lineage going back to Zhang Daoling. During the Dynastic eras of China the Tianshi had a palace at Dragon Tiger Mountain (Longhushan). To get a sense of the importance of the Tianshi it helps to understand that all building and construction in China has always been regulated by the government. No building was allowed to be built larger than the Emperor’s palace. We get a sense of how important the Tianshi was by noting that the Tianshi’s palace was specifically built (roughly) six feet smaller than the Imperial Palace. Needless to say, the role of Tianshi was central to the religious life of the country and the functioning of the state, and because of this, the Tianshi is sometimes called the Daoist Pope.
When the Communist government took power in 1949 it banned all religion, and as a consequence the Tianshi fled the country. During the Cultural Revolution in China (1967-1977) the Tianshi’s palace was completely demolished. Recently the Tianshi’s palace has been rebuilt and Tianshi Daoism is making a tenuous recovery.
The Priesthood
The Tianshi priesthood is the oldest Daoist movement. Its primary activity is the performance of ritual. Rituals are performed in private on behalf of a cosmic, national, or local constituency. To be a Tianshi of the highest rank one must be married to another Tianshi. Both men and women are equals, the difference between them has more to do with society at large than any doctrine within Daoism. Male Tianshi have historically been the ones who interact with the public.
Tianshi are required to keep precepts. These precepts are from three overlapping categories. First they are derived from Daodejing and are consistent with its teachings. Secondly, they regulate appropriate social conduct related to one’s priestly role or position. And third, they support ritual purity and transcendent practices.
Becoming a Tianshi
Most Tianshi lineages are passed down within families, but it is also possible to be adopted into a lineage. Each Tianshi gets a name which is taken from a line of a secret lineage poem. Every member of a generation in the same lineage has a name chosen from the same line of poetry. Since the Tianshi tradition is very old and has spread wherever Chinese people have settled, this secret lineage name allows Tianshi to identify each other.
The process of becoming a Tianshi usually begins with investiture. Investiture entails the taking of precepts, the passing-on of ritual vestments and ritual implements, receiving and copying sacred texts (which are usually also committed to memory), and the receiving of registers, which are secret documents used in ritual to regulate the gods, ghosts, spirits and demons of the Daoist Pantheon.
Rank
The type and number of sacred texts a Tianshi is invested with determines his or her ritual rank. This list is absolutely secret, it is shown only to other Tianshi in specific ritual circumstances. For example the list could be shown when a new text is transmitted or at the beginning of a new course of study. Thus the rank of a Tianshi is not a personal achievement and all Tianshi are considered equals–there are no true earthly hierarchies. That being said, there are indeed heavenly hierarchies. A Tianshi’s role as ritual master is intrinsically about the recording of meritorious acts on earth, in heaven and in the unseen world.
Zhengyi and Tianshi
The terms Zhengyi and Tianshi are somewhat interchangeable. The designation Zhengyi literally means Correct One; it is the name for the original covenant made between Zhang Daoling and Laojun (Lord Lao) on mount Heming in the year 142 CE. In English we refer to it as the Covenant of Orthodox Unity. All Tianshi are also considered Zhengyi. Zhengyi is perhaps better understood as the category of orthodox practices, which are in contrast to all practices which are unorthodox (Buzheng). It can be applied to other Daoist movements and lineages as well, such as Quanzhen or Shangjing. The trend has been to include Daoist movements and practices under the designation Zhengyi as they are understood to be in conformity with the Original Covenant.
The picture above came from here.
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11.22.07
Posted in Health at 4:14 pm by Scott P. Phillips
There are quite a few Daoist precepts about food. Food precepts are one of the more flexible categories of precepts, firstly because humans are so dynamic and secondly because so many other precepts can trump food precepts. After all, if you are starving eat!
On the other hand, most of the precepts have some solid reason behind them. Monastic Daoists often followed their Buddhist roots and went with vegetatianism. While hermit Daoists usually had more limited food choices, so more flexibility. However, if you have a choice and you are practicing meditation, the category of “hot” or ‘heat producing” foods is to be avoided because it has a tendency to make you alternately horny and sleepy.
Sexual fantasy and sleepiness make it difficult to stay still. But in my experience, being with extended family is even more disturbing to a meditation practice. Family quirks that you have managed to escape for most of the year, screaming children, an annoying conversation–these all have a tendency to make us squirm.
So a piece of advice, if you are just starting a meditation practice (meaning less than five years of practice) avoid the turkey. Turkey is called Huoji in Chinese, Fire Chicken. It falls in to the category of “hot” foods along with dog and eel.
Besides being “hot,” dog was used (and probably still is) as a blood sacrifice. Black dogs specifically were used to replace human sacrifices in an earlier era. Daoists are of course forbidden from participating in blood sacrifice as any deity which drinks blood is by definition demonic.
Eel is also “heat producing,” and I believe that fresh water eel somehow competed with rice cultivation in traditional Chinese villages.
If there is a lot of pressure on you to participate in the turkey ritual, perhaps you can limit your precept violations by compromising with just a little Wild Turkey. While it is “heat producing,” it may dull the influence of extended family entaglements.
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11.21.07
Posted in Health, Weakness, Daoism, Books at 7:57 am by Scott P. Phillips
There is a common convention of Chinese culture in which the word Dao, meaning the way, is applied to any field of study. Thus we have the Dao of archery, the Dao of writing, the Dao of mothering, and even the Dao of basketball. This expression refers to a way of knowing and embodying which is unique to each pursuit, and implies both ease and confidence. It is somewhat like saying in English, “She really has the knack of tree climbing.” In addition to implying that a person is really skilled at something, it implies that the activity itself transforms the person who does it, it is not just an act of doing, it is an act of mutual self-recreation.
Truly knowing a skill, or even a subject, further implies a curriculum. Thus many books have been written describing the Dao of Archery, the Dao of making Tea, or even the best selling book The Tao of Pooh.
In Japanese, which uses Chinese written characters, Dao becomes “do,” in many familiar arts like Karatedo, Judo, Aikido, Budo (the warrior code), and Chado (the art of tea).
For most of the last 1500 years in China the first lessons one received when learning to write calligraphy were instructions on how to sit without obstructing circulation, how to hold and move the brush in coordination with ones breath such that the student might start discovering the Dao of writing from day one. In fact, implicit in this idea is the notion that one is learning how to embody the physicality of great public officials of the past. This is also true of all traditional subjects, music, martial arts, medicine, weaving, etc. In traditional Chinese culture the physical process of acquiring knowledge is not subordinate to knowledge itself– How one learns is, in a sense, given priority to what one learns.
This idea is beautifully illustrated in the story of Cook Ding in the 300 Century BCE text, the Zhuangzi
(Chuang Tzu). The story is an ironic tale in which Cook Ding butchers an ox in front of the king, it is the title story of the third chapter called “The Mastery of Nourishing Life.” In the story, the king is amazed by the dance like beauty, grace, and ease with which Cook Ding butchers the ox. When asked, Cook Ding explains how the naturalness of his skill came about and in the end the king declares that listening to these words has taught him how to nourish life.
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11.20.07
Posted in History, Daoism at 8:48 am by Scott P. Phillips
The website for the Haffenreffer Museum at Brown University is beautiful. They have a collection of Daoist Alter Paintings and some interesting things to say about them.

“The Marshals are guardians positioned at each wing of the altar. Their duty is to bar the way to demons and unclean malevolent influences. Marshal Chao Yuan-Shuai guards the left and Marshal Teng Yuan-Shuai guards the right. The red inscription at the top right of the painting of Marshal Teng reads “Five Thunders Flashing Lightning (lit. Electricity)”. Mien priests use the summoning of the Five Thunders magic in exorcism ceremonies. The Marshals are six in number: Marshal Ma and Marshal Chang are the two smaller figures below Marshal Chao, and Marshal K’ang and Marshal Hsin are the two figures below Marshal Teng.”
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11.19.07
Posted in Qigong, Fighting, Health, Martial Arts at 12:02 pm by Scott P. Phillips
The concept of Shen has so many meanings in Chinese that it probably deserves a whole book. The shen I’m talking about here is the one that is most often translated “spirit” and is the lighter more expansive aspect of qi. (I’m not going to attempt a comprehensive definition.)
One way to explain shen is to say that it is “how we feel space.” During moments of extreme fear our shen closes in on us like plastic wrap around our bodies, in English we use the term petrified to describe this feeling. Conversely, when we are in a warm safe environment with a spectacular view in all directions our shen expands way off into the distance.
(Humans are complex creatures. Some people seek out that petrified feeling, perhaps because they treasure the release which happens when the fear finally lets go and turns to exhilaration. People with agoraphobia become petrified at even the thought of wide open spaces.)
Another way to think about shen is what we sometimes call “body image,” that is, the way we feel about and perceive our bodies. Skill in martial arts involves the ability to change your own body image as well as the ability to manipulate other peoples’ body image. Few people could step into the ring with Mike Tyson and not feel a twinge weakness and fragility. A great fighter, just like a great actor, can make you feel like you are “king of the world” one moment and “a cockroach under a boot” the next.
I believe that hormones have a big effect on shen. How many of us have known a slender woman who once a month asks if we think she is fat? The first time this happens we laugh and say, “Yeah your a regular hippo.” The second time this happens we say, “No, honey, of course not,” only to be accused of being patronizing or worse. No doubt most of us have learned, through trial and error, that a failure to respond will be received as “ignoring,” and that the best response is an audible but non-verbal response:
“Ahhh,” can work but risks implying agreement as in, “Ahhh, I see what you mean.”
“Oohhh, can also work but might be interpreted as “Oohh, interesting,” which would be patronizing again.
The correct response is, “Uuuhh?” exuding slight confusion coupled with perfect acceptance of the statement.
It should be obvious at this point that shen is affected by physical training, diet and sleep. And also that it is very hard to measure analytically.
One of my students claimed not to be aware of shen for several years until we had a conversation about tension in the center of her back. She broke into a story about how when she was a little kid there was a certain place in the hallway of her house that she would pass through quickly because she always got this feeling that someone (or something) was going to stab her in the back. She overcame the fear by permanantly holding a little bit of tension in that one spot on her back. She relayed that her sister felt and did the same.
Chinese cosmology asserts that all shen experiences have a physical body component and all physical body experiences have a shen component. They are inseparable.
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11.18.07
Posted in Health, Daoism at 1:21 pm by Scott P. Phillips
I couldn’t resist this article from The China Post by a guy named Joe Hung. Is it possible (with a name like that) Mr. Hung is in the wrong profession? (I think I would go with the pinyin spelling: Heng.)
Anyway, he seems to have a fantasy vision of a historical China where people were rational and mental problems didn’t exist. Well, it’s kind of true, nobody called them mental problems. They called them “Shen Disturbances.” No society of humans has ever been rational. Most of us have moments of rational thinking. People have built Lunar-Landers facilitated by institutions like NASA dedicated to rational thinking. But has anyone met a fully rational human being? (I’m thinking right now about a certain female astronaut who recently wore diapers on a cross-country drive.)
That’s why I was shocked to learn that in Taiwan at least one out of every four university students, or young intellectuals who should belong to the class of literati in imperial China, is “depressed enough to benefit from assistance” of one kind or the other. That information was found, among other things, by a John Tung Foundation survey conducted between last May and June. An even more shocking finding was that the kinds of assistance these depressed young intellectuals are seeking include “divination” and “exorcism.”
The survey shows at least 1.8 percent and a slightly lower 1.7 percent of the 6,960 respondents rely on divination and exorcism, respectively, for help in dealing with depression. Those who wish to seek counseling from school counselors account for a mere 2.3 percent, much fewer than another 3.3 percent of the students chanting sutras and/or praying for divine help. Still another 2.8 percent believe their folklore religion — animism, or more often than not, outright superstition — can cure their depression. Altogether, 11.9 percent of Taiwan’s young intellectuals want supernatural powers to get rid of their psychiatric disorder.
Mr. Hung seems quite convinced that exorcism doesn’t work, while I’m pretty sure therapy doesn’t work either. Actually talisman, divination, drugs, exorcism, therapy–it all works sometimes–it can work when people actually make and follow through on new commitments. But don’t be surprised to find humans dedicated to something irrational. The only people who could be surprised by that are people who aren’t paying attention.
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11.17.07
Posted in Health, Martial Arts, Flexibility at 8:51 am by Scott P. Phillips
Martial Development and Formosa Neijia (this too) have recently posted about the tail bone. Here is my previous post on the subject.
Chris at Martial Development makes the point that martial artists often get stuck in the idea that their tail bone should be forward. He suggests that people focus on lifting the head and just relax the tail bone.
Unfortunately martial arts also get stuck in the idea of lifting the head which can lead to stiffness or over straightening. As we used to say in the dance world, “Straight is a look, not a feeling.” (Think about that one.)
Speaking anatomically for a moment, there are four ligaments which go from the top of the spine to bottom, directly on the center-line. A ligament is a very strong flexible piece of tissue that connects bone to bone. It is not elastic! If a ligament stretches it is unlikely to stretch back. That’s why all the muscles tighten up (or lock down if you prefer) around a
ligament that is getting over worked.
Each ligament in the spine can be felt. And each ligament can be felt simultaneously for even tension all the way up and down the spine.
So tucking, or straightening, or lifting up can all be wrong if they slacken or tighten one group of ligaments. The spine works as a whole unit, so it is usually a mistake to try to
move just one part. Each vertebral-body (bone) can tilt forward or backwards somewhat like Venetian blinds.
But at a higher level if you are thinking inside the body about the details of anatomy you are making the mistake of “letting the spirit leave the body.” The same goes for lifting up the head or sinking the tail bone. The mind or the “shen” goes out in all directions, if it goes up (like a rainbow fountain) without obstruction, the spine will follow–like a hungry tiger to its prey.
The notes for the cross section above are here:
Figure 10. A sagittal view of the human thoracic spinal cord, showing the (1) intervertebral discs, (2) vertebral bodies, (3) dura, (4) epidural space, (5) spinal cord, and (6) subdural space. A thick ligament, the anterior longitudinal ligament forms the anterior border of the spinal column. The posterior longitudinal ligament form the posterior border of the vertebral bodies.
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