Tendon Twisting

This is a continuation of the series on jin, that started below with a discussion of pulsing.

Twisting integrates the body and is essential to make the mechanics of Taijiquan operative. Most sports, and even most martial arts, do not emphasis twisting enough. Twisting integrates the body because as you twist you take the slack out of tendons; if all the tendons throughout the body have an equal amount of twisting, the movement of the hand will be simultaneous with the movement of the foot.

This principle can be simply illustrated by stepping on one end of a towel and twisting the other end until it is like a thick rope. Movement at one end of the towel while it is slack at best sends a wave through the towel. After you have twisted it the whole thing moves as one flexible hunk.

Twisting unevenly will cause lots of damage. That's how joint locks and breaks work. Practice on a chicken if you want. For instance, to bust the wrist, just twist it while immobilizing the elbow.

This practice is the main reason that Chinese martial artists do not have or need big bulging arm or leg muscles.

Again, twisting is part of jin, it creates underlying dynamic structure. It is not itself a source of power, it does make the use of power more efficient.

Image: I got the image of the towel from this Heller Bodywork site, they are making a different but related point about the process of balancing.

Joint Pulsing #2

If you practice pulsing all the joints in the body, with a partner and on your own, many aspects Taijiquan will come to life. This is considered an original qi (yuanqi) practice because it is really obvious that babies do joint pulsing all the time. Most people loose much of this pre/post-natal action as they mature.

The wonderful thing is that this buoyant mobility is recoverable, even at advanced ages, because it relies on fluids not muscles. (Of course older people loose fluids as they age too, but not as fast as muscle.)

From a fighting point of view joint pulsing really amps up one's ability to hit with a lot of force using very little movement, and no wind up. In other words, fajing.

On the down side, there is a tiny delay in between opening and closing the joints that can be exploited by a fast and sensitive opponent. So if you want to reach the top level, you will eventually have to phase out the pulsing.

Here are the 6 stages of becoming a joint pulsing superhero:

1. Make the joints open, make the joints close.


2. Make the joints close, let the joints open. (the second part is passive)


3. Make the joints open, let the joints close.


4. Put opening the joints inside of closing the joints, and put closing the joints inside of opening the joints.


5. Dissolve the closing and opening of the joints.


6. Dissolve the intention to open and close the joints.

Joint Pulsing

In the bad old days of Taijiquan, there was hardly any detailed teaching beyond forms correction and simple push-hands. Now-a-days, there is tons of teaching and it's getting more open all the time. What constitutes the body of taijiquan basic knowledge is really growing.

So I expect most people have heard this simple description of jin:

Peng: Twist outward, close the joints, qi rising.

Ji: Twist outward, open the joints, qi rising.

Lu: Twist inward, close the joints, qi sinking.

An: Twist inward, open the joints, qi sinking.

This is the internal structure of Taijiquan, it is one of many steps used to unify the whole body. It is the way you transform your external body's shape so that you can issue power in many different ways. It is not the source of power.

If these "mechanics" are still murky for you or your student, I suggest trying peng to the back, with your arms behind you. For it to work your peng will become: Twist inwards, close the joints and bring qi up from the heels (instead of the "bubbling well.")

Now, many people have pointed out that the opening move in many styles of Taijiquan, where both the wrists rise up in front, is usually called peng and is done with the whole body rising. This is because the jin, the method for issuing power, is left in a potential state called shi. The term shi, has a huge number of meanings including: a taut bowstring, a trigger, and strategic advantage.  This can not be taught by watching, it must be felt.

Labor Day Weekend

I'm working on some posts about fear, but they aren't finished yet.

I'm being pulled away to go play, so no blog today, but I have been leaving comments on the last few post of FormosaNeijia that readers may find interesting, like this one below:

Well, yes, you should know and train every technique in the form with an active partner, preferably one that is better than you and starts nice but gets rougher. I was taking that for granted.
Still, I’m starting to think the Bridge idea is in conflict with Taijiquan theory. My training in Chinese martial arts, in general (Northern Shaolin, Lan Shou, Xingyi, Bagua) taught me not to defend. In taiji theory every centimeter of your being is in the fight, if you dedicate some part of your body to defense at the moment of contact you might as well put your neck out and offer it to your opponent as a snack.

Kuo Lien-ying's Diagram

The T'ai Chi Boxing Chronicle, Compiled and Explained by Kuo Lien-Ying, translated by Guttmann, (1994, North Atlantic Books), contains this diagram.

The top third and the bottom two thirds are two different diagrams. I find the bottom two thirds the more interesting of the two. Stand yourself at the top where it says "Centrifucal force." The 'wiggle' below the word Peng is, I think, meant to represent "An jin" or hidden power, just below that is the bridge to your opponent.

There are lot's of things here for all you push-hands players out there to think about. For instance, notice that Pivoting and Grabbing are almost out side of the picture, far beyond the opponent's center.

I believe he intended us to see Ji, Lu, and An (I can't bare to translate them) as contained in the words: Open, Close, Give, Empty Receive, Adhere, Evade, Connect, and Stick.

Eyes

I went to two parties after teaching all morning yesterday, so I haven't had time to edit all the comments in moderation. Sorry I'll get to it soon.

On the way home from one of the parties Sarah, the possible future mother of my possible future children, said people at the party were laughing about how I used my eyes. Apparently there was a certain woman I consciously, or unconsciously, did not want to talk to--and everyone knew this by looking at my eyes. Fortunately, this particular woman also had a sense of humor and made a lot of jokes about it.

George Xu once said that many fights are determined by the eyes before the fight even starts. Bing Gong taught me to begin a Shaolin form standing still, looking far into the distance, then drawing everything I see into my eyes, then down to my feet at which point I should lift my foot, stamp the ground and sink; this will bring the shen (spirit) to the top of the head.

It is a very effective way to start a performance.

Bing also taught me to relax and "soften" my focus while doing standing meditation and while doing the Guang Ping Yang Style Taijiquan form. This means that when something enters your field of vision, your eyes do not track or latch on to it.

Years ago, George Xu talked about developing "killer yi." Yi, which roughly translates as intentionality, can be partially read by looking into someones eyes. At the time I understood "killer yi" to mean your gaze should pierce your opponent very much in the literary sense of, "if looks could kill!"

He now says, "Your eyes should drawn-in the distance the way a predator's eyes do. When you move forward, you should have the feeling that objects- people, rocks, trees- are being drawn-in toward you, not that you are getting closer to them." (I'm paraphrasing here.)

I interviewed a street-level assassin once who was trying to get out of the business. He was beaten often as a child. He said that when he got involved in acts of violence he would remember the very beginning, entering a space, seeing a car pull up, and then he would remember surveying the carnage as he left. But he rarely remembered actually fighting or killing. He would in some sense black-out. His eyes were like deep pits. You could look into them but he neither appeared to be looking straight at you, nor did he appear to be avoiding your gaze.

It is clear to me that this brutalized gaze is what Chinese martial arts is, at its core, trying to avoid.

I learned eight distinct different uses of the eyes in my baguazhang training, which will be the subject of a future video and blog post.

What is a root (part 2)

• Sinking one's center of gravity.

Sinking one's center of gravity is often referred to a having a root. It can be done by actually taking a lower stance or by internally sinking, which is a process of relaxing while keeping one's alignment. This is not very hard to train. In some Asian countries, like Japan for instance, this ability is just considered normal. In English speaking countries we often hold up our chests which can make us a bit top heavy.

It is easy for even well trained martial artists to lose their root when they become upset (excessive anger will usually do it.) Trances associated with anger or jealousy usually involve forcefully exhaling from the chest through the mouth. This is called qi overflowing.

• Aligning the basic structure of one's body so that if outside force is applied it will transfer to one of the feet.

This type of root is not internal. However many internal martial artists put great emphasis on perfecting it. It is part of basic Northern Shaolin. The student will hold a stance and the instructor will push on, or forward slap, the point at the end of an extended arm to make sure it transfers directly to a foot.

What is a root?

From looking around the net, and fielding comments on Youtube, I've found that lot's of martial artists are obsessed with having a good root. Unfortunately that seems to mean lots of different things, so let's try to sort it out.

First there is using imagination to visualize and/or feel a tap-root-like shape descending downward into the earth (or the downstairs apartment if you live in a flat). Many people call this a spiritual root but I find that word annoying. The root can become huge, or spread like a tree, or keep going down infinitely.

Imagination is a necessary part of feeling. Feeling in some kind of pure sense, like when we are infants, is not very functional. To be able use our senses to comprehend and to continuously adjust or integrate with our surroundings requires an active imagination. It does not necessarily require any visualization. When you are running full speed and jump to catch a football, you don't "think" about the ground, but you feel where it is. In Chinese this use of the imagination to feel or sense goes by various names including qi, yi (intent), shen (spirit), jingshen, and shi (potential energy). This internal mechanism is natural, functioning at all times, and can be improved by training.

Other meanings of "root" that I will cover in the next few days are:

• Sinking one's center of gravity.

• Aligning the basic structure of one's body so that if outside force is applied it will transfer to the back foot.

• Using sensitivity to attach to a forward moving opponent and then spinning them off of one's center.

• Various types of dynamic integration which allow one to neutralize/dissolve or simply relax an opponent's attack.

The bigger problem however is that people try to use this "root" as a defensive strategy. A corollary of this problem is that people fight with their qi on their back instead of surrounding their opponent.

Taijiquan Jeopardy

I made up a Jeopardy game from written questions my college students submitted about Taijiquan. This student asked a simple "How?" type question. In order to answer accurately I felt it was important to redefine some basic terms.

Guess the question:

Think about the role of a doctor in traditional Chinese society where health is considered accumulated merit (gongfu) which one dedicates to others—and to the resolution of one’s own unresolved ancestors. In this sense, health and learning are similar because they both involve the accumulation of merit for the good of everyone.

Health is a result of conduct, ancestors, and environment: Jing-Qi-Shen.

The Process of dedicating one’s merit is fundamental to Chinese culture (and Traditional Chinese Medicine.)

Push-Hands and Arguing

Taijiquan is the art of not being defensive.

I grew up in a home where arguing was as important as food.  On a recent trip to Turkey I discovered that even in academic and journalistic circles, skill at arguing was very low.  People would argue but if, for instance, I said something like, “I think there are three distinct issues here,� they would get upset become defensive and the argument would lose it’s basis in rationality and civility.  Lack of free speech, years of propaganda, and a difference in culture all contributed to their assessment of me as too confrontational.

On the other hand, on the same trip I went to Israel where several people confided to me, in admiration, that I don’t argue; instead I discuss things clearly and articulately.   I thought the contrast and the comments were quite funny.  Israel is one the few places in the world where a person can get into an argument at a bus stop with a complete stranger and feel like you are making new friends.

Arguing probably releases dopamine into my system, it is my element.  There is no greater complement you can pay me than to convince me I am wrong.

Push hands is similar.  Like arguing, it often reveals more about an individual’s nature and skill, than it proves right or wrong.  Just because you win, doesn’t mean your idea or skill will work in the real world.  When I argue with someone of lesser skill I don’t attack the weak parts of their argument.  Instead I go after the parts I think are the strongest, the points that are most central,  and are the most likely to change one of our opinions.

Push hands is the same.  If I’m pushing with someone better than myself, I’m keenly aware of the smallest possible error they may make.  Even if I find an error I may not be able to use it against them, my purpose is to learn what they are doing so that I can replicate it myself.  Only by deeply understanding the core of their idea can I have any hope of winning.

On the other hand, like arguing with someone who has less skill than I do, if I’m pushing-hands with someone of lesser skill, I don’t try to win by attacking them where they are weak, I try to beat them at their strongest point.  I handicap myself so that we can both learn and improve.

Push hands is not fundamentally about winning.  It is a kind of intimacy.  Too many people push-hands defensively.  Push-hands and arguing are the same, when someone becomes defensive we both stop learning.