Learning Tai Chi
Every January sees a short term influx of optimistic born again fitness enthusiasts pouring in to their local gym during that short- lived period in which a new years resolution is yet to become dropped like a bad habit. Like clockwork I always find myself giving in to the same annual instincts. Anyway this year I have taken up the traditional Eastern art of Tai Chi. After a short introduction from our new teacher my small class began by learning basic breathing techniques, which in itself was a revelation, until now it had never even occurred to me that I breathe wrongly. Apparently when we breathe- in our diaphragm is meant to inflate and then deflate upon release, apparently this is the way babies breathe but somehow as we become older and wiser we forget how to do it. This left me with the realisation that things which should be natural can actually be very hard to do, for example the next instruction of the night was to simply relax. The problem with this is that it feels almost contradictory to be told to relax upon command; I found myself fumbling around trying to relax only to make myself gradually more tense.
Initially I felt daft as we slowly manoeuvred our way around our invisible boxes and guided invisible balls around our abdomens. It all felt like hippy dippy nonsense as we were told to “fetch and guide the water” and other commands which underlined my early suspicions that Tai Chi was simply not for me. I felt self conscious for the first half of our session; it felt so odd to be doing these strange limp wrested movements to mock eastern music. However upon reflection this was simply a macho reaction to the idea that Tai Chi is too feminine, it was a reaction against the fact that Tai Chi challenges the foundations of manliness and what we observe to be socially acceptable behaviour. What occurred to me half way through the lesson was that there’s no need to feel awkward or self conscious when everyone else is doing almost exactly the same thing as you are. This was to be my epiphany of sorts, as soon as I stopped feeling awkward I began to feel genuinely relaxed, very soon my arms were floating about in the same floppy effeminate fashion as everyone else’s and it no longer mattered how we looked. The emphasis was placed on being calm and slow and this was such a welcome relief from the stress and pace of everyday life and really provided a contrast with the rain we could hear lashing against the nearby windows.
What is interesting about Tai Chi is that it’s effectively a half way house between Yoga and Karate, it can be tender and it can also be extremely violent. The moves in themselves felt like flaccid dances but when the moves were explained it turned out that these simple limp steps were actually also ways to break people’s arms or vital organs. It was when this dual identity became apparent that I really began to see the universal appeal of Tai Chi. Sometimes there’s a thin line between violence and art and for that reason Tai Chi should be relevant to both retired grandparents and to knife wielding psychopaths. Once you detach your ego and relax yourself then there’s really nothing quite like floating around like an incredibly dangerous butterfly. This emotion is of course not exclusive to Tai Chi, all martial arts have the same dance- like foundations, boxing shares the same graceful steps and the same appetite for chaos, wrestling can be described as ballet for butch men, even football incorporates the same carefully rehearsed skilful steps from its premier athletes.
In an age of nuclear weapons and constant terror alerts it’s satisfying to know that there are millions of people around the world who express themselves through this same elegant art and even that thought makes me feel optimistic. It was when I conquered my inhibitions and let myself become enthralled in something so powerful that I knew that for the first time there’s a chance this New Year’s resolution won’t be next months regret.
Every January sees a short term influx of optimistic born again fitness enthusiasts pouring in to their local gym during that short- lived period in which a new years resolution is yet to become dropped like a bad habit. Like clockwork I always find myself giving in to the same annual instincts. Anyway this year I have taken up the traditional Eastern art of Tai Chi. After a short introduction from our new teacher my small class began by learning basic breathing techniques, which in itself was a revelation, until now it had never even occurred to me that I breathe wrongly. Apparently when we breathe- in our diaphragm is meant to inflate and then deflate upon release, apparently this is the way babies breathe but somehow as we become older and wiser we forget how to do it. This left me with the realisation that things which should be natural can actually be very hard to do, for example the next instruction of the night was to simply relax. The problem with this is that it feels almost contradictory to be told to relax upon command; I found myself fumbling around trying to relax only to make myself gradually more tense.
Initially I felt daft as we slowly manoeuvred our way around our invisible boxes and guided invisible balls around our abdomens. It all felt like hippy dippy nonsense as we were told to “fetch and guide the water” and other commands which underlined my early suspicions that Tai Chi was simply not for me. I felt self conscious for the first half of our session; it felt so odd to be doing these strange limp wrested movements to mock eastern music. However upon reflection this was simply a macho reaction to the idea that Tai Chi is too feminine, it was a reaction against the fact that Tai Chi challenges the foundations of manliness and what we observe to be socially acceptable behaviour. What occurred to me half way through the lesson was that there’s no need to feel awkward or self conscious when everyone else is doing almost exactly the same thing as you are. This was to be my epiphany of sorts, as soon as I stopped feeling awkward I began to feel genuinely relaxed, very soon my arms were floating about in the same floppy effeminate fashion as everyone else’s and it no longer mattered how we looked. The emphasis was placed on being calm and slow and this was such a welcome relief from the stress and pace of everyday life and really provided a contrast with the rain we could hear lashing against the nearby windows.
What is interesting about Tai Chi is that it’s effectively a half way house between Yoga and Karate, it can be tender and it can also be extremely violent. The moves in themselves felt like flaccid dances but when the moves were explained it turned out that these simple limp steps were actually also ways to break people’s arms or vital organs. It was when this dual identity became apparent that I really began to see the universal appeal of Tai Chi. Sometimes there’s a thin line between violence and art and for that reason Tai Chi should be relevant to both retired grandparents and to knife wielding psychopaths. Once you detach your ego and relax yourself then there’s really nothing quite like floating around like an incredibly dangerous butterfly. This emotion is of course not exclusive to Tai Chi, all martial arts have the same dance- like foundations, boxing shares the same graceful steps and the same appetite for chaos, wrestling can be described as ballet for butch men, even football incorporates the same carefully rehearsed skilful steps from its premier athletes.
In an age of nuclear weapons and constant terror alerts it’s satisfying to know that there are millions of people around the world who express themselves through this same elegant art and even that thought makes me feel optimistic. It was when I conquered my inhibitions and let myself become enthralled in something so powerful that I knew that for the first time there’s a chance this New Year’s resolution won’t be next months regret.
