Taijiquan and changes in perception of teacher and student

PT Richard
2/8/2006

Taijiquan is much more than learning a form or a martial art style. Most dedicated practitioners know that by doing tai chi they are seeking knowledge and clarity that they can apply in other aspects of life. They are not just doing taijiquan, they are seeking to foster greater well-being and know themselves better so that they will gain greater control over the direction their lives take.

Because of the effort to learn tai chi, they cultivate energy to survive events and to come out of them more powerful than before with greater capacity to internalize tai chi’s more enlightening gifts; to become more adept in the art of life, not just martial art.

Often, the effort we make to learn tai chi loosens memories of events and experiences from their moorings in our bodies. They surface and manifest in our dealings with ourselves and with others. Some of these manifestations are wanted, some are not. They are often harsh, but usually we are able to work through them and eventually they pass as if they never were, especially when we realize what they are.

Each of us has our own particular set of challenges. Tai chi practice has given me a greater sense of what is sacred in the world and in my relations with others, particularly with my teachers. I have immense respect for my teachers not simply because I’m supposed to, since they are the teacher and I am the student; but because I deeply value the self-discipline, hard work, and sacrifice they obviously have endured to advance as martial artists and as human beings. I see in them long moments dedicated to training and self-discovery.

The hallmark of martial arts training is to reach a point in your awareness where you are most poised to gain knowledge; when understanding floods in. Getting to this point can be a challenge for the student, because as a result of practicing tai chi, which really is a daring endeavor, the student’s own fears and uncertainties may arise.

In the practice of tai chi, understanding comes incrementally according to what you are prepared to take in. Every new ability is accompanied inevitably by a change in self-perception; who we think we are and what we are trying to achieve in martial art practice and in life. But sometimes clumps of insights can strike you and touch sensitive areas of the subconscious, dragging up the detritus of a life like an anchor heaves up mud from the ocean’s depths. We often react by defending the one thing we once had set out to overcome when we took up the practice of tai chi. We indulge in the very things that we don’t like about ourselves.

The teacher’s job is to bring the student to a point of being able to cultivate this potential on one’s own. How they show us this core aspect of martial arts might not be as graceful as we would like; yet, they have reached a level of understanding that only self-discipline and in-depth training can give. It takes a certain quality of effort to get there. It is not sweat or time put in, because so many people do tai chi mindlessly. Years can go by and a practitioner still might not have cultivated authentic energy and power.

Sometimes the student is the teacher in unexpected ways and the teacher is challenged to step onto new ground and shift his idea of himself and the world around. The lines between teacher and student are blurred at these times. When this happens, student and teacher alike realize that no one ever stops being the student.

My teachers, George Xu and Susan Matthews, have a lot of energy. Sometimes it comes out harshly, but most of the time it is good, regenerative energy. They both give freely unselfishly. We all are capable of the same. Sometimes our energy is clear, other times it is not. It is important to remember this especially during times of upheaval. It’s transitory. Someday it will be unnecessary.

My teachers’ openness exposes them to the manner in which I express my own vulnerability. But they are like a black hole into which my emotions rush and lose footing. Frustration only reflects an image of myself that I abhor. The old martial art saying, “know thyself” takes on such a profound meaning at these times. We are not just doing taijiquan. We are seeking to know ourselves better so that we will gain greater control over the direction our lives take and how we feel about our own well-being.

It is a mistake to become angry, or elusive, because this is a sign that we are reacting to surface manifestations of deeply rooted issues that we are becoming cognizant of, but have yet clarified enough to voice to ourselves. We’re like dogs barking in the night at unseen things that they only sense are out there and cannot make out. We are only trying to free ourselves of those memories, experiences, and events that hold us back from realizing our greatest potential. Sometimes our opponents are our best friends because they are there to help us achieve this goal. So I say thank them all: enemies, teachers and friends alike.