Nowadays, when I thought I am doing the Tai Ji form properly, I had a rude awakening when one day my teacher shouted “stop shaking your butt!”. And from then on, I’m very conscious about it. Of course, I always smile too whenever I realise I’m doing it. It’s just a funny thought, to think that I’m shaking my booty while doing Tai Chi.

I guess sometimes, we just don’t realise what we are actually doing, until someone else switches on the light bulb.

p/s : the technical bits - the butt shaking results from my attempt to channel the ground strength to the hands. It’s easier to move the butt to mimic turning the kua, than to turn the kua itself. The mind always chooses the seemingly easier route, whereas the body will tell you it’s the wrong route.

When I wrote about standing at the wrong place at the wrong time, I didn’t realise that there could be a further reason. I think it follows the bikini logic, where less is more.

When going shopping with my wife, I always find that I’m standing in the wrong place at the wrong time. Maybe, it’s not me standing in the way of the bag, the dress or the lingerie. It’s because I’m hiding parts of those items, which makes them stand out, or makes the people around me want to see more of those items, just like wearing a bikini.

If everyone’s naked, there won’t be an urge to “see more”. Maybe this is the way for a more peaceful world. A naked world where there’s nothing to hide. I wonder if that’s the logic of the naturists…

The smaller the circle, the smaller the mind. 圈子小，人生圈子也小。

When doing Tai Ji, or when pushing hands, it reflects the way you see life itself. When we are afraid of making mistakes, when we are not confident in ourselves, these feelings will show in your Tai Chi, even to the untrained eye. For instance, the hands tend to be close to the body without the kind of quality that you see in a bird soaring to the skies.

If this were a true reflection of your life, you might find yourself being afraid to soar in life as well. We tend to keep to the things that we’re comfortable with, without realising the full potential of ourselves, without realising that we can achieve more.

My current teacher thinks that what we learn in Tai Chi can have an impact on how we see life. So, even though Tai Chi is a reflection of how you see life, by changing how you do Tai Ji may also change how you see life as well. So, start drawing bigger circles now. Be expressive. You might notice more things in life than what you currently see.

A common habit when practising, is to make the adjustments while carrying out an action. In the context of Tai Chi, you might have seen people bobbing up and down, or pushing forward with various hand gestures, looking very awkward as though their clothes just don’t fit them. Then one day, my teacher said,

“When you push, just push”

It’s a simple instruction, but as with all simple instructions, it’s so simple that it’s difficult to carry out.

When we do the form, we may go through it as though it’s a formality. We may go through it as though it’s a dance choreography. We may even go through it just because your spouse is going through it, and it’s something you want to do just to spend some time doing something together. For all the reasons that we go through it, the main purpose is to go through it. And yet, when going through it, we do not actually go through it.

There may be dinner plans to think about, there may be work to think about, there may be kids to think about, relationships to think about, and of course, even the Tai Chi principles to think about. We might be going through the form, and at the same time trying to remember to apply the principles of Tai Chi.

And yet, the way to learn the principles is to forget the principles. Ok, maybe remember one, to relax. There’s that word again. But let’s not talk about this word this time. Just remember, when you push, just push.

I guess it’s like doing anything. When you eat, just eat. When you walk, just walk. When you sleep, sleep. Very Zen like. Zen Tai Chi. It does have a nice ring to it.

It’s that word again… relax!! When faced with a steep learning curve, it’s always made worse if you force yourself through the curve rather than ride on it. The materials would seem more difficult, the retention would seem more difficult, and you might end up hating the subject so much that you will never touch it again. Or wanting to learn the subject so much that you disregard other things that’s important. And yet, when you learn for fun, the pieces would somehow fall into place without you realising it.

I was discussing this with my Tai Chi teacher when I noticed a student who’s “trying too hard”. Of course, not trying is not practising, so at least he’s practising. But he’s forcing something which is contrary to the very thing he’s trying to learn - to relax.

I guess the balance is quite difficult to strike. You must be hardworking to learn, but you must also work hard to resist the temptation of “trying too hard”. It is only with this kind of tension between trying and not trying that when you find the balance, the light bulb will light.

I guess it’s one of those paradox in learning that makes learning Tai Ji so difficult…

p/s: I believe this is true for most things worth learning as well. That’s probably why Tiger Woods makes golf look so easy because he tries very hard to not try.

It’s the fruits aisle. You see people crowding around the fruits on display. In the oranges section, an expert hand dips in and out of the rows of oranges. To me, all the oranges look more or less the same. But somehow, the expert hand tries to look for the differences.

Everyone who’s crowding around the boxes of oranges seem to know which are the better oranges. Everyone seems to be an expert. The confidence in picking up an orange and deciding whether that particular one will be a good one seems so innate, that no one will fault the person even if she picked a lousy one. The fault will lie with the grocer.

If only this confidence can be translated to when we’re picking up shoes, or clothes or in choosing the things that really matter in life. Sometimes, the choice can be so obvious, like choosing oranges, that we fail to pick up on it.

I was recently in a class full of students, as oppose to my individual training with my teacher. We were trying to correct the very first step of all Tai Ji forms - the “raise your hands and put it down”. I met a student who was really passionate about Tai Ji, and who started telling me that I shouldn’t be hung up with different forms, and that if I learn the principles, I will be able to access all forms. I didn’t disagree with what he said, but I just found him a bit strange telling me things that I myself has been preaching to myself.

I don’t speak about it as often because my experience tells me that we have to selectively give advice, so that the advice is apt and is just the thing the person needs to hear at that point in time. Anymore, none will be registered, any less, you might as well not tell. But he just started rambling, on everything about Tai Ji. I was a bit annoyed at first but I know why he did it. He’s passionate about the things he’s learning, and hence, indiscriminately wants to share all that he knows to others. He even made others practise (he helps out in class) just because he wants to increase his intensity of his own practice.

I have to say, I used to be like him, giving uncalled for advice, until I realised how little I know. I then started to refrain from saying much to other students. I would normally make suggestions when I see someone struggling, something for the student to consider. I believe this will be a more fruitful approach, rather than telling the principles verbatim. Contextual suggestions work better than regurgitating what I’ve learnt. I may sometimes add just that little bit more, hopefully able to tempt the student to want to know more. I guess in this instance, I’m trying to use the principles I learn in Push Hands.

Maybe I should tempt him to come to the Push Hands class.

Nevertheless, he has been quite an inspiration in his own way as I’m now wanting to better him at his game. I know this is antithesis to learning Tai Ji, but hopefully I can build this into a healthy competition.

According to my current Tai Ji teacher, if you practise the form continuously one set after another, the effect is compounded. For example, if you practise the form twice in succession, you would have effectively practised 3 times. 3 in succession equals 6 times, 4 in succession equals 10 times, and so on.

To think that I’m always happy enough to have completed just one set. Anything more is a bonus. Apparently, the bonus is bigger than I initially thought!

p/s: Reminds me about running. Someone said that running stairs triples your workout compared to running on flat ground.

Everybody’s a beginner at some point in their life. And the goal of the beginner? To be the opposite of a beginner - to be an expert. While everyone is a beginner at some point, they do so with the aim of not being one in the future. Unfortunately, life’s lessons are not always delivered like that. You do not begin to end. You begin because you believe in something, and you want to test out that belief. Although the initial goal may seem obvious at the time of beginning, the end result might not be what you actually plan to achieve.

Having said that, it’s quite refreshing to see a beginner coming into class. You look at him as though you were looking at yourself, some time back. You look at his clumsiness, his confusion, his eagerness to look the part while not making a fool of himself…

Then I realise that all these characteristics are still present within myself, only more subtle. You see, the beginner exaggerates the mistakes, the discomfort. Over the years, I have learnt to mask some of those discomfort. Some muscles have built up to defend the discomfort, making me appear to have “got it” when in fact I haven’t. I’ve only learnt how to appear to have “got it”.

The beginner then showed me the true me, as though I was looking at a truth mirror (sounds very much like The Mirror of Erised, if you’re a Potter Fan). The beginner lets me know that I’m also still a beginner. We are both trying to understand something that’s unfamiliar. The interpretation of the unfamiliar may be different, but we are essentially seeking some kind of knowledge and understanding. I face the same frustrations as the beginner, although it maybe at a different level as I have worked out some of the kinks.

It sounds frustrating when you realise you have not improved much from the image of the beginner, staring back at you, mocking your own progress. But it’s nice as a rude awakening, to remind you that there’s a long way to go, and that in the path of learning, you’ll always need to be humble, so that you can learn from the expert, as well as from the beginner.

I stood up my teacher, with a last minute notice. No wonder he scolded me. It wasn’t intentional, but I was torn between family and learning Tai Ji. Sometimes Tai Ji wins, sometimes family wins.

There are good students who will turn up for class without fail, and then there are those students who will fail to turn up regularly, without fail as well. Of course, the rest of the world will fall somewhere in between, ignoring those who sign up and not turn up at all (that’s just silly).

A teacher has to turn up whether or not he’s sick, because he can’t choose not to. Without the teacher, there won’t be a class. Without a student, the class goes on, assuming there are other students in the class.

I once told my own students that if they did not want to turn up, please let me know so that I can rearrange my schedule. I make it a point to let my own teacher know as well. As it turns out, sometimes there are things that turn up that I cannot say no to, mostly due to the battle between family and doing something I like. I’m always the optimist, thinking that I can make it in time, with all the activities planned, and possibly more. It works sometimes, and at other times, I just piss people off.

So, the next time you want to bunk class, think of the teacher who made it a point to always arrive. Otherwise, rearrange your schedule to minimise the possibility of bunking.

My teacher’s reasons for why we should always turn up?

1. Last time, when I was younger, I stuck with my teacher, morning and night. I only “rested” during the day because I was at work.

2. I get paid by who turns up, and this is my only income. It makes economic sense for you to turn up, and if not, let me know in advance so that I can arrange for someone else.

3. The regular discontinuity for weekly class, even for one class, allows an almost half a month break between classes, which impedes the progress you’ve made as a student, which requires you to start all over, wasting progress gained 2 weeks ago.

The discipline he showed during his younger days puts me to shame. The economics of being a teacher does not stack up, unless you commercialise yourself, and that sometimes distracts the teacher from the best of his teachings. For the 3rd point, both the teacher and the student will feel the frustration because of the rework, wasting both teacher and students’ time alike.

I now know that although being a student is hard, being a teacher is harder. So here’s a public apology to my teacher.

I’m sorry.

I hope that this will inspire you to take charge of your time that you’ve set aside to learn something. You’ve chosen to learn it, so learn it with all the responsibility of a student, just as the teacher would have taught with all his responsibility as a teacher.