My Worst-Best Moment in Taiji

The musical intonation of the Chinese language easily lends itself to varied interpretations of words and ideas. The Supreme Ultimate, The Great Pivot are only a few of the many ways Taiji has been translated into English. Getting down to basics, Taiji is the path of balance and harmony. According to Chinese medicine, when a person is in harmony, within and without, he or she will enjoy good health. One Chinese physician advised: ‘Find your center and you will be healed.’
In the western world, Taiji has gotten good press. There are often articles in the health section of newspapers. Seniors magazines have devoted articles to the value of Taiji. A recent study at Emory University showed that Taiji improves the balance of the elderly. Taiji is also beneficial for seniors by virtue of its slow and gentle movements.
‘Normal’ aging means a gradual weakening of our mental and physical capabilities. In contrast to ‘normal’ aging, Taiji promotes ‘successful’ aging by strengthening the body, improving alignment and calming the mind. Taiji is a brake that allows us to slow down the aging process. It prevents our health from spiraling out of control. Instead of a steep decline in our physical and mental powers, we age ‘gradually’ and gracefully. I have witnessed Taiji increase the quality of life of all my students, particularly seniors and special needs.
Until the last ten years or so, I was having little success with special needs students. Few lasted more than a month. Only two men over seventy managed to learn the short form (37 movements). One was a feisty former marine who fought in World War II and the other, a retiree, studied Jewish religious texts for most of the day. Both had clear minds, good memories and the will to finish something they had started. These are important traits in someone who wants to succeed. But what about those whose memories were not sharp or whose bodies had suffered a illness or injury? They should have access to the benefits of Taiji.
My success with seniors and special needs did not improve quickly. In time it became clear that my style of teaching was too rigorous and beyond the capabilities of most seniors and special needs. I had studied with several Chinese teachers who demanded hard work and commitment from their students. Their standards were high and I had enormous respect for them.
I recall my first class with one such teacher, Benjamin Pang Jeng Lo. It was a cold San Francisco summer night. I arrived late because of traffic. When I walked into the room, I was shocked by the sweat rolling down the students’ faces, their legs trembling from holding postures. Here the students were ‘training.’ This was the real thing! As a veteran teacher of Taiji, I had never seen this before. Taiji was supposed to be soft and gentle. I was intrigued, challenged and decided to study with this teacher. Later, as a teacher, I believed it my duty to uphold these high standards. Anything less was selling out. I did not understand the deeper meaning of the cliché: ‘different strokes for different folks.’
It took one poignant event to open my eyes. While teaching a Taiji class, I realized that two seniors, a married couple in their seventies, did not know the sequence of movements and what little they did know, they were doing poorly. It was painfully obvious that they were not learning Taiji. They were wasting their time and money. Feeling frustrated, I blurted out: ‘You’re never going to learn the form!’ Instantly I realized my mistake. Later that night they phoned to say how embarrassed they felt, particularly being humiliated in front of the class. I apologized of course but the damage was done.
Sometimes events occur that are the worst-best moments in life. In this case the ‘worst’ was causing needless pain to these fine people. I felt terrible. The ‘best’ came later as I pondered what had happened. How could I reach seniors and special needs? The answer was obvious, although it took awhile before I figured it out. Special students require a special class. It had to go at their speed and be easy to learn and do. More importantly, I had to change my attitude and become sensitive to their individual needs.
I started a new class for special students. It began with warm-ups, stretching and meditation and Chinese breathing exercises known as Qigong (pronounced ‘chee gong’). Over time, I developed Taiji exercises designed for seniors and people with special needs. This was the ‘best’ scenario that grew out a ‘worst’ moment. Once the class was underway, I called the couple whom I had embarrassed, apologized again and invited them to return. To my regret, they never did.
What about my integrity as a teacher of Taiji? I came to realize that I needed to forge my own way and style. I am not my teachers, although I am greatly indebted to them. That I am my own person may seem obvious but it is not. When I practiced Taiji alone, I would hear my teachers comments and criticisms as if they were standing next to me. A true teacher of a martial art is like a father whose influence, good and bad, can reach beyond oceans and even the grave.
The result of my soul searching was that I decided to focus my knowledge on helping others. In the words of Rabbi Hillel: ‘If I am only for my self, what am I and if not now, when?’ I try to view each person as an individual with special needs. This decision has spilled over into all my classes. I use humor, positive reinforcement, touch, visualization, anything that promotes healing. I have formed strong bonds with my students, some of whom have been with me for years.
Over the last ten years, I have taught many seniors and special needs students, privately and in groups. Presently I have two classes. I prefer to call the people in these classes, ‘differently-abled.’ Seniors are anyone over sixty-five and special needs refer to anyone who suffers from an illness or injury. The groups often overlap. In one class the students are between the ages of seventy and eighty. Nearly all of them have health problems of one sort of another. Buelah has a troublesome right eye. Minnie cannot walk well. Mildred gets tired after walking a few steps and must rest. They cannot stand for long periods so I have adapted the exercises to fit their needs. I have developed a sitting Taiji form for them. With time my goal is encourage them to do it standing. This sitting form can be taught to those in wheelchairs.
The other class has a wide range of age from twenty to sixty-five. Most of the students have health problems. Marcie, who is in her twenties, has Chronic Fatigue Syndrome. Dorit has pain in her legs and has difficulty walking. Shoshana, a nurse in her forties, has a serious lower back problem. Everyone can stand but many of students have to be careful. Shoshana cannot do part of the stretching exercises because of her back. In the beginning Marcie had to sit through much of the class. Now she can stand from start to finish.
Martin Buber once wrote that a teacher can convey the same ideas to a five year old as he can to someone twenty-five. I believe that the same thing holds true for the principles of Taiji, whether teaching a senior who cannot stand long or a person in a wheelchair. An imaginative teacher can adapt the principles of Taiji to fit the needs of almost any student. It takes sensitivity and intuition.
The principles of Taiji such as separation weight and keeping the body upright are so profound that they often escape notice. People who do Taiji regularly are deeply influenced by them. In my classes I have sought to extract the major principles of Taiji and merge them with simple Taiji-based movement. From experience I believe that most people can learn these exercises.
The reality of life is that aging begins at birth. A wise person will choose the path that promises (but of course cannot guarantee) a healthy middle age and up. Most of us will live into our winter years. Since 1900, the population of the United States has tripled while the sixty-five and older have multiplied eleven times. More than seventy percent of people live to the retirement age of sixty-five. In 1990 there were 61,000 Americans who had reached the age one hundred years and above. In 2050 the projected figure is 600,000. There is a good chance that you will live a long life. But what good is a long life if its quality is poor? Good sense tells us to begin taking care of our health now.
While the physical work of Taiji is crucial, calming the mind with meditation and minding the spirit are equally important. If the mind is out of control, the body will follow. The Taiji Classical writings observe: ‘The mind is the commander.’ Similarly if we are depressed, and, according to psychologist Martin Seligman, depression is an epidemic in the United States, Taiji will be of little use. A healthy fulfilling life depends on our awareness and determination to harmonize Body, Mind and Spirit. Taiji can help every adult, young and old, to actualize that harmony.