One Way: A Taijiquan Journal: May 2005

May 2005

Master Kan: Quickly as you can, snatch the pebble from my hand.
[Young Caine tries to do so and fails]
Master Kan: When you can take the pebble from my hand, it will be time for you to leave.
— Kung Fu (Television Show)

01: Sunday

My moccasins are in the basement with the fan turned on them, drying; my socks, dyed bright orange by the soaked leather of my moccasins, are soaking in the sink. They'll never be white again. My $5 Gortex rain coat is dry as a bone and cleaner than it's ever been...
My tonfa bruise, a lump on my forearm above my right wrist, has a dark ring around it today, a result of the additional, but entirely unregretted, abuse suffered in yesterday's indiscriminate grappling...
Last Monday, Sensei set us to weapons drills. He paired me with black belt Bruce, which was excellent. Bo and tonfa, four strikes, four blocks: right, left, high, and low. Moving forward you strike; moving backward, you block...
I had the bo, and we had a volley going, quick time, each of us hitting and blocking hard. But my bo handling was inept. Though I was keeping up with Bruce, our pace kept increasing (a mutual and tacit consent engendered of the pure joy of the exercise), and I was becoming hard-pressed in my defense because I was losing valuable time fumbling the switch from right block to left block, until, finally, I couldn't complete a block, and—
Bruce's tonfa rapped me on the arm. Not a bad hit. It could have easily been worse. But it wasn't worse, it was okay, and we were having fun, so on we went until Sensei called, "Yame!"
Bruce felt bad, but it was my fault and I owned it. I've known for some time that I need to do some serious work on my blocking. Because this stuff is really, really fun, and it will be even more fun when I'm really, really good at it.

02: Monday

Gorgeous day. Sunny, breezy, cool— the very best weather for practice.
Thinking while munching (apples and pears) and stepping...
Chen Fa-ke went against fifteen generations of tradition to rework the form into Xinjia Yilu. That took guts. We talked about this at dinner Saturday. The form must change to grow, to remain alive, vital...
Some Chen, section one; then bits and pieces, trying to recapture what I saw Jonas doing... I had a few valuable insights then.
Saturday, in the workshop, we worked on the application of White Crane in push hands. I was working with Pete, and when he was doing the app, I knew exactly what he was getting wrong and could help him get it right. But, when it was my turn, I couldn't get the app to work, and neither of us could figure out why... and there was no chance to ask Jonas, then. But, at dinner afterwards, I mentioned what happened, and, after only a moment's thought, Jonas figured out that I had opened evenly instead of to my opponent's open side, turning as one does in the form. Of course! But why couldn't I figure that out?
Saturday, someone, Walt, I think, commented on how low the stances are in New Frame. Jonas said it was to strengthen your legs so that if you get into trouble with your technique, you can run away very fast. Maybe I should practice running.

03: Tuesday

Stepping and thinking... or not thinking, maybe. So much happened last night...
Saturday taught me that miles and time won't separate me from Joe and Jonas and the others who share my love of taiji. Last night taught me that I also have true friends at the dojo... I'll tell about it when I can.
Some Chen. Section one... working it...
Years from now, ten or a hundred or a thousand, I'll look up from wherever I am, and no matter how far I've traveled, I'll see my friends, Joe, and Jonas, and the others, and I'll feel their spirits close to mine, part of me... forever...
Wave hands, just because... my left foot allows my left knee to collapse if I let it. A bad habit from when I had no strength or balance on that leg. I won't allow the sloppiness now. Now I'll distribute that weight on the sole, make that big toe work, and hold that knee steady... I can. Even without that calf muscle, I can.
Taiji:
There's so much to learn—! Another lesson on yan shou hong quan and now there's even more to ponder and work on...
It begins with zhou, the drilling, that comes after the opening up. Your stance is evenly balanced here. Ma bu on the forty-five, hands unfold like fan, palms out, a little fang song, then— fajing! The right hand shun chans one finger at a time into a fist that "drills" towards nine o'clock while the left hand, open palm, middle finger leading, shun chans out to three o'clock, as you sink and close the left kwa, twisting down...
On the rebound from fajing!, your fingers pull downwards, the right hand still a fist, the left closing to a "squid," the downwards pull loading the spring of your twisting body. When the spring is loaded, fajing! again, as if the hands were suddenly released from below to snap and strike upwards as you jump off your toes—
Your hands arc up and over to center (elbows don't move!) and you land in ma bu at the opposite forty-five, left hand draped over right fist which is pointing downwards. Fajing! The left hand ni-chans up to block and protect your face, coming to your right shoulder as your right fist— keep you elbow pinned!— snakes outwards to strike ribs (hard target: strike fast and hard) with knuckles. Then fajing! again as the right fist curls in, around, and down to strike low (soft target: lower abdomen, groin: twist!), while the left hand moves across to block palm out to the left forty-five—
Ni chan the right fist down and out along the line of the thigh as the left hand ni chans down and out mirroring that move on the right, energy spiraling...
The left hand circles out and up into a block; the right fist circles out and up to come to rest knuckles pointing to the tantien (keep the shape in your arm: peng), as you jump to the left, your body one unit— xiao jie ling jing!
Now there's a gathering of energy as the right fist (panther paw) rises to "hide" under the left hand, which has quietly ni-channed from palm up to palm vertical (hand horizontal). Unnoticed, the right wrist turns the fist towards the target and the fingers of the left hand begin to curl and pull, gathering...
Fajing! The right fist strikes ribs and the left pulls backwards, tearing the energy from the center as fist and elbow strike. Woe betide enemies in front and behind!
Jonas had us trying the strike, his palm the target. We were trying for speed and surprise. Mostly, we telegraphed our strikes one way or another (muscle tension, breathing), and he had plenty of warning to move his hand out of the way. But we got some hits— even when Jonas kept the target moving.
Then we got to try avoiding his strikes. Jonas didn't telegraph his strikes, he was very quiet, but... if you listened, you could feel the strikes coming before they did. It didn't give me enough warning to move my palm out of range— I was still trying to figure out if what I was sensing was true— but I almost believed my senses, and the strikes were light because I moved my hand back. And I know I would be able to better with more listening practice.
I really, really wish I had someone to play with.

04: Wednesday

My second toe, right foot, is all purple this morning. I caught it in the mats during kobudo Monday. It bothered me a bit Tuesday while walking, but practice didn't bother it.
I woke up this morning worrying about how I'm ever going to learn about martial arts when I only get about three and a half hours of instruction per week. Obviously, personal practice is key, but...
This is precisely what angered me Monday night at the dojo. Sensei sat us down and gave us another talking to. When something gets fixed in class— I'm giving you the gist here, not a quote— write it down. Those are the things you need to work on. They're the things you should be practicing. Only by fixing them will you advance.
Well, duh! But that's not enough, is it? What if, as I learned recently, you know what you need to work on, but you have the technique wrong— maybe not entirely wrong, but just wrong enough— and you do practice? What if then you show up in class and Sensei thinks you don't practice because you've still got whatever it is balled up, but now he won't mention to you because it's his policy not to keep correcting you if you demonstrate that you haven't tried to fix the things he does tell you about?
That's a fine catch-22 for you. You think you're working hard to fix a thing and you think you must have fixed it because you aren't getting further corrections; while he thinks you are hopeless because, to him, it looks as if you don't care and you don't practice.
Which seems to be exactly what keeps happening to me. It feels that way, anyhow. For instance, a few weeks ago Sensei showed me how the tonfa are supposed to move. In practice afterwards, I thought I had it right. I practiced. But I had it wrong. I practiced it wrong. In class the next week, I got no corrections, so I didn't know I still had it wrong. (But I felt that there was something wrong because Sensei was not speaking to me. I felt he disapproved.)
It just happened that Sensei left early Monday night while we were still cleaning the dojo. When we were done, there were only a few of us left: me and a few senior students. We got to talking, casually. I'd been thinking about Sensei's talk to us during the cleanup. I hadn't meant to say anything to anyone, as I was still trying to sort the emotion from the facts, but... but I suddenly heard myself saying to them that it had made me feel frustrated. To my surprise, the others present wanted to know more about what I was feeling. And again to my surprise, I told them more...
I told them about the catch-22 bind I seemed to be in, and asked what could be done about it. The answer was: Nothing. Sensei is sensei; his name's on the dojo and he can do what he wants.
But we talked about what Sensei had said. During Sensei's "homily" each had felt Sensei was speaking to him directly, and each had felt it might be well-deserved criticism. But none of them felt that they were in a bind, as I did.
But they didn't think I was paranoid or crazy, they understood that the bind that I found myself in was real and problematic, and they didn't blame me for it. Indeed, they seemed to trust me and my sincerity of intent— I discovered that they all thought of me as a serious and dedicated student, one whom they liked and respected...
That was pretty amazing.
Friendship and support. I have good friends in both camps, taiji and karate. There are people who believe in me. I have no words, but, at last, I feel... as if I can breathe.
Time to practice.
Some Chen. There will never be an end to yan shou hong quan, nor any of this learning, but I understand some things a little better. Bits and pieces...
When I bring my hands together and stamp my foot down in jin gang dao zhui, there's a balance and a power center... I'm learning to coordinate hands and feet... learning tiger body, dragon body...
I understand now about plucking up the imaginary cement-filled liter bottle with my finger tips and that my elbow sinks because my body sinks, not my elbow...
Someday, I'm going to get some of these martial arts very right.

05: Thursday

Gorgeous, cool day. Birds everywhere, making a racket...
Last night after supper, I felt completely exhausted. I felt as if I'd been drugged. So I took a two-hour nap. Thinking back, I have the feeling it was mental/emotional exhaustion. A lot has been happening and I'm unsettled by it.
Six sets of 24 Form to comfort me...
I don't care what Jonas thinks, Fan Through the Back or Hands Unfold Like Fan, whatever you call it, in 24 Form the throw is there.
I've been thinking about the Yang apps as I go. I haven't got them all yet... and the total number of possible applications in any form must be astronomical if you include variations!
One set of TCA, thinking about the demo Nan asked me to do...
I wish I could take Jonas's Wednesday class, but... I can't afford it, neither financially nor temporally. Time and money. I could make time, but making more money without using up what time I make is tough.

06: Friday

Overcast and cool.
A little stepping... a little 24 Form, thinking about how I got here...
Today, the journey is hard to remember. The details are clouded over— fogged in. I only know this small space where I cam today. Now. And it feels as if I will be in this space forever...
Which, of course, I will. I can't escape from being myself— or can I? Aren't the sages always inviting us to step outside of ourselves? They tell us we will discover wide vistas "out there," whole new worlds to explore... I look out—
Today, my world seems very small and I am fog bound in it.
"To understand taiji, you must understand metaphor."
— Lizzie

The qi moved today as I stepped and practice...
My left foot is a little swollen and tender on top. I noticed it last night as I was preparing for class. I must be straining tendons. It's probably caused by taiji practice: my stances to low now, and the ankle is being pushed more than ever before.
Last night, after class there was an opportunity to speak to Sensei, so I thanked him for the class. He had helped me a lot, cleared some things (stepping in the bunkai, for instance) up for me. I said goodnight, then added, "Don't despair of me yet, Sensei." He replied, "Oh, I haven't." That's good to know.
I was trying to explain to Jo how extraordinary this week has been for me in martial arts, but, though I conveyed some of my feelings of amazement, I know no one else can understand all that has happened to me...
I was explaining the yan shou hong quan punching/xiao jie ling jing! exercise Jonas had us do, but I couldn't convey the concept passively, nor could I explain the way I had to "listen" to Jonas when he was doing the punching. He was very quiet, very still, until the punch; he wasn't telegraphing the punch physically, but I could "hear" it coming, ever so faintly...
"To understand taiji, you must understand metaphor."
— Lizzie

How much practice will I need before I stop telegraphing my punches physically— or any other way? *sigh* So much to learn!

07: Saturday

08: Sunday

09: Monday

A nor'easter arrived Friday night and settle in to make the weekend wet and miserable. It isn't gone yet.
I did very little practice, but that wasn't the weather. Outside of hurricane winds that send objects flying at you, who cares what the weather is? No, the trouble was within— internal weather— a hurricane watch, maybe.
In spite of knowing I have good taiji and karate friends, I don't get to see them except in class. Between times, I get to feeling very alone, and then it's difficult to remember whey we do practice...
Lat night I too time to watch Shaolin Soccer (Stephen Chow; same guy who just did Kung Fu Hustle), and now I remember why we persist in these strange arts. (If you don't know or don't remember, go see one of these movies.)
The movies will also show you why we forget, and why we stop practicing: Life. It gets in the way, and when we haven't got people around us, close to us, to practice with, the practice becomes work and it's very easy to let it go... You know, I did well to keep myself going after I was dismissed from classes. I really did well.
But now... now it's the stress of work, and Ma, and being seriously short of cash that unsettles me. Lessons are an extravagance, and practice has become an indulgence— but that's not it. It's the worry that things won't get better that makes me tired and saps my strength and my focus and sucks me down... that, and being all alone in my practice...
Is this a test that I'm failing?
Only if practice is the most important thing. On many days, it isn't.
Stepping with my tea... I'm running late today, but I refuse to hurry...
I like the solid feel my steps have— right more solid than left, but still very solid...
I like the feeling of balance...
Some silk reeling... my right hand is becoming noticeably more flexible, maybe even stronger...
My left forearm is very stiff*#151; compared with the right, that is... as I pin my left elbow with my right index finger and circle my left hand, I hear faint, successive crunches from shoulder, elbow, and wrist at the turnover point... the left hand feels like a block, inflexible... and yet, I can feel the qi of shun chan and ni chan in my hand...
Time to go.

10: Tuesday

The skies are clearing. Red tulips bloom.
I was tired after work yesterday, and not looking forward to back to back kobudo and karate; but I've learned the value of showing up, and I was rewarded, as usual: Working with tonfa, I discovered I understand the "middle block" and can make it work; and in karate, I learned something of how to kick a moving target...
Sensei joined us in our rounds, kicking and punching two hanging bags and two standing bags. I was right behind him, and I got to see his approaches, and how he'd adjust his step, kick and recover. There are a whole bunch of little corrections and adjustments that happen when kicking from a run at a moving target, and until you see it all and can relate it to what you're doing, the process seems impossible.
I watched as I followed, and then, without thinking, I just tried to do what he did and — once or twice, I got it right.
Which proves what I've known all along: you need to see it being done right in order to learn. Senior students should always be present, working alongside juniors.
Stepping with my tea... practice of the overhead move in shima ijiri bo ichi... standing... a set of TCA.

11: Wednesday

It's late— early, and the sky is clear. Scorpio, Antares shining red at his heart is above the trees in the south...
Taiji. We finished section one tonight. Yan shou hong quan, jin gang dao zhui, and that's the end of section one. That's how it reads on paper. Moves 14 and 15: end of section one. And, since this is the third pounding of that mortar, it should be a simple thing to finish up the section. But, between those two moves there's whole passel of moves to get through before that warrior attendant pounds that mortar again...
Just now, in the dark, in my dojo, high from class, I guess, reluctant to let go, I went through section one six times, going slowly...
Jonas talked about hand flexibility tonight. His teacher said flexibility is the best defense against chin na, so we should all practice being flexible and relaxed. I happened to mention that my right hand is— seems much more flexible than my left. Jonas said the right hand gets more of a workout in the form. I mentioned the crunching I've been hearing, and he laughed, but he knew what I meant— and that it's a good thing.

Beautiful day.
Some Chen. Slowly...
My left ankle is very tender. I've probably got tendonitis from all my practice. That's the ankle that I broke when I was eight. What to do...? Work through it, I guess.

12: Thursday

Another gorgeous day.
A little stepping with my tea....
Both ankles and wrists are bothering me— though, only the left ankle is noticeably swollen. Adjustments. Tendonitis from being flexed so much in practice— understand, though, that this isn't an intentional forcing of the issue on my part. Merely, this is where I'm at in practice. And my body has some catching up to do.
Section one makes my legs tired. But I think that's because I've lost relaxation because I'm so intent on getting the last part right...
And then there's kobudo practice that's really pushing my wrists...
Adjustments. It's a little uncomfortable now, but I'm sure everything will straighten out soon.
Karate.
My ankles and wrists hurt now, the aftermath of another night punching and kicking the bags. My left shoulder also hurts: that began with tonfa practice a few days ago, and was aggravated by tonight's hammer fist assaults on the bags. Rats. My power and will outstrip my strength still. I need to be more careful as my hands and feet can twist too easily out of alignment.
At one point, Sensei set me to punching the standing bag. He said he wanted each punch to be as technically correct as possible. Remembering that he wanted xiao jie ling jing, I tried my best, tried to do as Jonas does, tried to make myself quiet and relaxed, then— strike!
I couldn't do it. Even imagining the target was well beyond the bag didn't help. Oh, I moved it each time I struck— and I didn't bruise any knuckles, but I had no jing. Nothing. No speed. An opponent could've eaten a sandwich waiting for my punches to arrive— and he'd have called in his order when he saw me telegraph my intention to punch. Rats. I wish I knew what I'm doing wrong...

"I hear and I forget. I see and I remember. I do and I understand."
— Confucius

13: Friday

Beautiful. Cool (50º). The birds are busy in the yard gathering dry grasses for their nests...
Stepping with my tea and toast... I wonder if I'll ever learn to fully compensate for that "missing" calf muscle...
I wonder if I should make a punching bag... my wrists are fine today. Maybe last night actually knocked 'em back into proper alignment@
The apple trees are in bloom; and the pink cherry at the far end of the meadow. The dogwood will be in bloom tomorrow. Godzilla, the Japanese yew, is loaded with pale green tufts of new growth at each branch tip. A few more years and I'll be able to build a tree house in that thing!
Section one... It bothers me that I feel as if I've "got" the new moves—
There goes the heron! He's getting huge.
— but, so it is. Why does section one seem so much clearer than section five? Is it that I was half asleep to the instruction then? Maybe... I can't believe it's been nine months since I started studying with Jonas.
I have questions on section five. Hard to articulate questions...
I think the problem is that, then, I couldn't understand as well. I needed to learn the language...
What will learning be like if [when?] I become fluent?

14: Saturday

Yintian: cloudy day. Cool.
Stepping with my tea after dropping Ma at class... today I can relax my left leg, ankle, and foot, and my stability improved...
Two sets of TCA, pondering the applications, but not getting much out of the pondering...
Some Chen. Section five today...
Different... different because I'm applying what I've learned recently... different because I'm stronger and the deep stances are easier...
I got caught in a mental blank for a few minutes. I couldn't remember how to get my fists to come together from the double open block after Sleeves. There I was in a ma bu, left hand blocking high, right hand blocking low, and I couldn't figure out how to move to get my fists to come together at center! Oy! Some days!

15: Sunday

Overcast.
No formal practice today. Noisy neighbors and obligations got in the way. And yet... As I stood listening to the class at Jo's, I reeled silk, very slowly, and felt qi strong in my hands... And at Ma's tonight, while she watched Miss Marple, I reeled silk, and then got caught up in trying to figure out how to circle my hands around for that double punch after Sleeves Stir the Plum Blossoms.
When I was practicing yesterday, I made a mental not to revisit this move and make sure that I'm not tilting my shoulders when going from the double open block to fists at center, ready for the punch. (Here, dragon body is required, and it's difficult to tilt your torso without tilting your shoulders.) I was still getting totally confused as to how to move... strange. But I persevered and I learned a thing or two about the move, even if my wrists seemed sometimes to be cocked at odd angles.
The silk reeling is very interesting lately, now I'm trying to make my wrists more flexible as well as my fingers...
I pretend my hands are fans, and the fingers are the ribs, and I circle them in spirals, sometimes fully open, sometimes opening and closing, but always feeling the qi as if the paper of the fans is moving through and against the air, twisting and turning... fans. Neat.

16: Monday

Overcast, but sun and blue sky are not far behind.
Some stepping with my tea...
Some silk reeling... how does one get the hands to flex like seaweed swaying in the depths? Even relaxed, my hands seem like solid blocks, inarticulate... my fingers hardly bend backwards at all. *sigh* Keep trying...
A set of TCA. Two sets of 24 Form, left and right. How "easy" that form seems now!
Some Chen... some work on the yan shou hong quan sequence... I still have to go a little slowly so the moves remain distinct and precise...
A few more times...
I hope that, one day soon, my teachers will tell me straight out that I've got at least some things right.
Kobudo.
Nothing to report. But I did catch my toe— same one— in the mats again and it hurts.
Karate.
White Crane Spreads Its Wings application: opponent grabs your wrists, so you shun chan and tilt and turn and throw him to the open side. But, for this exercise, you're hampered by having to grab gi "lapel" with the upper hand, and having to cross step in for the throw. It works, but it isn't nearly as elegant as the taiji. Still, it's valuable to know more than one way to skin a cat. We round-robined for practice, so everyone got plenty of practice throwing and being thrown.

17: Tuesday

When I awoke this morning, I felt as if... as if I'd taken a ride in a clothes dryer— with a couple of pairs of sneakers. I wasn't in pain, but I'd definitely been thumped around. And my toe was swollen and colorful, but it didn't bother me to walk on it.

18: Wednesday

Class last night was excellent— as usual. We worked on the application of the double high-low squid block/strike that follows the rebound from yan shou hong quan.
First we practice the move to make sure we were splitting the energy, leading with our fingertips, et cetera. Then we partnered up, one person practicing the move, the other using his palm to provide a stationary target for the low strike/block. When that was working, we practiced with the target moving.
Then, three to a group, we practiced both "squid" strikes as an application, upper target stationary, lower moving. When it was my turn, the hardest thing for me was finding a ready position for my hands to start from. I couldn't use a karate "ready" position cuz that just wouldn't work at all— fists weren't working for me. Finally, Jonas had me just put my hands up in front, hands open but relaxed— Yang hands, actually, one higher than the other, ready—
You'd have thought it would be easy. Such a simple stance. Yet, to watch me, you'd think it was some diabolical contortion I was attempting... Sorry, I just washed my hands and can't do a thing with them! — I finally did catch on.
After that, we went back to partners and worked on using the applicaton against one-two punches to the head. Lorna and I found it was working differently for us...
Block the first punch with the upper squid and deliver a low strike with the lower squid. When the second punch comes, slap across at it with the upper squid (remember, these punches are coming in quick succession) knocking it to the outside. Slip the lower squid up to grab the wrist of the knocked arm and tug it while the knocking hand changes direction to strike the opponent on the neck (or just below and in front of the ear)...
Speed is required. Lorna and I both found it quicker to work this defense differently—
I've been sitting here trying to remember what and how we were moving, how we made it work. I know it was different, and I know it worked because Jonas came over and puzzled on it with us until he was satisfied and gave his approval of what we had come up with...
Nuts. I'm deuced if I can recreate what we did... not without a partner.
An unsettled day. Sun... rain... sun... rain...
Some Chen... I have question about what's happening in section five...
During the day, more and more often, I find myself reeling silk...

19: Thursday

Gorgeous day. Sunny and cool.
Stepping with my tea... some Chen... — no, a set of 24 Form first, going slowly, relaxing...
Then some Chen, trying to do the same... section one...
I think my couble squid split isn't right... So: take it from the beginning of yan shou hong quan... again (slowly!)... again (slowly!)... again... again... it all seems to need a lot of work. I'll have breakfast and try again. (And again, and again, and again, no doubt!)

20: Friday

Bits and pieces of practice during the day...
Karate last night was fun. Kicking from the floor, partners leaning in on the hand-held body targets. Towards the end, we were all getting giddy from the exertion.
After that, Sensei let us rest while he showed us the training weights he made. They're called chi-ishi. They're traditional Okinawan training equipment. Basically, they're thick sticks with cyllindrical or disc-shaped stone weights attached to one end. They're used to strengthen hands and arms, and everything else, too, really. Very neat. Sensei was inspired to make them by Angie who brought the notion back from her training stint in Okinawa. She liked working with them, and made some of her own. I think they're an excellent idea, just what I need to build up my hand strength. I will make some for myself.

21: Saturday

Yintian: Cloudy day.
Stepping with my tea while Ma's at class...
Deep stepping... I can feel that I'm using different muscles now...
Kicking à la Jonas... lotus kicks, inside and outside... I still don't quite understand these kicks. My elbows and knees seem to conflict if I carry the kick across... hmmmmmm... I wish Joe or Jonas was around to ask.
Not much time for practice. I went early to fetch Ma so I could stop at the library book sale and pick up some mysteries for Aunt Shirl, figuring Ma and I will stop to visit her at Overlook on the way back from taiji...
Later. Two sets of 24 Form... I still have questions...
Some bo practice... It's interesting how many different ways there are to handle the bo in a turn...
Some work on my bo blocking. Forwards and backwards, trying for speed and effectiveness... better.
This month, both taiji and kobudo have been about speed. It will be a long time before this Grasshopper is ready to leave off training.
Some Chen. Slowly, stance high, trying to feel it, understand it...
The last of the apple blossoms are falling liek confetti; but the cherry is holding onto its fading pink bloom. Sun or rain, which will it be? Both!

22: Sunday

A dull, cool day. Unsettling, too, for some unfathomable reason.
Some stepping...
Some Chen...
Today, I hate Sleeves— all of shi zi bai lian! — because I can't find my balance and I still can't do a lotus kick to save my life...
I feel bad about everything, and add to that my left knee feeling as if it's going to go out if I push it too hard—
I need to change the energy, but it's an uphill battle today.
I haven't been sleeping well and they've been running Jet Li movies on the Spanish channel. Once Upon a Time in China, Kiss of the Dragon. For some reason, listening to these movies in dubbed Spanish is even odder than the dubbed English... Maybe it's because I expect Spaniards and Mexicans when I hear Spanish— tortillas and beans, not noodles and dim sum. Wish they'd just play the Mandarin version with subtitles— but that ain't gonna happen on TV.

23: Monday

24: Tuesday

What a day! Rain and chill. I drink my hot tea and I am a dragon, steam issuing from nose and mouth... a yin long (cloudy dragon) day.
Stepping with my tea...
I feel achey, but don't know why. Kobudo and karate classes were quite routine. I have a couple of bruises on the inside of my arm from Chris who has the knack of missing the pads consistently, but those don't account for the achiness...
Did I practice taiji yesterday? I didn't write anything here... and I can't remember.
I feel very lonely in my practice lately. I've been trying to change my thinking about that. When I feel alone and isolated, it saps my energy... on the worst days (like yesterday) almost I feel I'm dying...
But there's a part of me that knows I'm never alone. I felt that strongly on World Taiji Day. I knew that day that I could never be alone in my practice... I just can't always believe it.
Luke Skywalker watched in amazement as the ship rose from beneath the water then moved across to settle on dry ground. "I can't believe it!" he said. Master Yoda sighed. "That is why you fail."
I need to learn how to believe... I need to learn to tap into the universal qi.
Later.
Rain... wind, too... all that water going over the dam makes the windows hum unpleasantly...
Nights like tonight, I'd just like to quit taiji.
We worked the White Crane application again: move, counter move, and counter counter move.
Begin from the push hands position where ji is about to yield to an: the ji person has arms in front, forearms together, hands on opposite elbows; the an person's hands are controlling the ji person's elbows. The ji person is going to defend. You're the ji person.
An (downwards push) with shun chan comes to you, and "hearing" this energy on your elbows, you open up, turning and tilting to one side (usually the opponent's open side) shun channing both hands open— as quickly as necessary, but gently, so the attacker doesn't realize the movement isn't his own, keeping elbows pinned and peng— to drape on the opponent's arms and delivering ni chan that drives the tilting circle of energy, tipping the opponent up and over while pulling down and around—
But if he's quick, he can counter you by jamming the energy of your circle. He must ni-chan his hand, the one on the side that's being borne upwards, outwards, up and over your arm while his other hand slips under your other elbow to press in the same direction as his jamming hand is turning. This, amazingly enough, makes the energy of the your "circling" work against itself. The harder you try to continue circling, the harder you will throw yourself—
Unless, you counter the counter. The moment you "hear" his counter move begin, you must counter him by bringing your "pulling" hand, the one on the downwards side of your circle, inside his arm, breaking the leverage he had on your elbow, spiraling the energy outwards and turning it again, this time against his jamming energy....
The whole process of move, counter, counter counter, is quite neat, and works amazingly. It reminds me of solving algebra equations by balancing them, doing to one side what you also do to the other—
But there doesn't seem to be much place to go from the counter counter... There must be something that can be done, though, because Jonas has told us to think about it for next week.
I'm very bad at applications and I feel very bad about tonight's lesson. I was having the devil of a time making the application work. I understand the mechanics and the energy exactly, but... I can't make it work. The only time I really did get the moves to work for me was when I was working with Jonas.
Jonas is the only one I can "hear" clearly— when he chooses to be "heard." When he's teaching, of course, he makes the applications work for you. And his "hearing" is so acute that he can "hear" everything you do, right or wrong...
I'm almost completely "deaf" to the others in class. It's very discouraging. And it makes me wish I could always work with Jonas. But what would I learn then? I'd still be deaf to everyone else. No, the only remedy is to continue to practice with people I can't easily "hear" — on the rare occasions when such opportunities present.
*sigh* I wish they made a hearing aid for my kind of deafness.

25: Wednesday

Another nor'easter. The world is gray and wet and windy...
It was after six tonight when I went out to practice. A little stepping, and then some Chen...
Section five. Jonas went over some of this with me before class last night. I had some questions, but I couldn't remember about what exactly, so I worked through the moves and Jonas kibbitzed...
I feel better about this section now. But I still hate parts of it, notably shi zi bai lian. It's worse than creeping snakes!
Today, I've felt very unsure of myself. I keep thinking I'm wasting my time trying to learn taiji— a picture came into my head of a teacher watching me move, saying to someone as he watches, "She'll just never get it." Sensei makes me feel like that a lot...
Jonas caught me shaking my head at myself last night and he knew what I was feeling, I think. "No head shaking," he said to me. "No head shaking." And that was that. Thank goodness for Jonas.

26: Thursday

Another dull day— clammy, too. Yuck!
Section one. Very little seems to be working today— or maybe I'm being overly critical because I'm grumpy from the weather.
My jumps in yan shou hong quan were pathetically low and pathetically one-two respectively. Rats. And I was having difficulty keeping unnecessary movement and weight shifts from obtruding.
*sigh* I have to keep reminding myself that the others in class have been doing this form for two-and-a-half years— and they were doing Chen old frame for two years before that— never mind how many years Joe and Jonas have been practicing! I shouldn't compare myself to them— oh, heck, of course you've got to compare; you've got to have a yardstick. What I mean is that I shouldn't be so hard on myself. I'm probably doing okay for someone with my previous level of experience who has been studying for ten months. Probably. (Right?)

27: Friday

There's a strange light in the sky. If I remember correctly, it's call the sun.
I didn't even think about practicing today. I've been driving myself too hard— and to no purpose. And yet, I stepped out on the proch, and I found myself working on bits and pieces, looking for answers... some of which I found.
Karate last night was kicking and getting the accompanying blocks correct... I was blocking correctly, if not beautifully.
At the end of class, Sensei addressed us. Someone had asked, he told us, whether he was going to make chi-ishi, the training weights, for the dojo. No, he said. There had been chi-ishi in the dojo on Okinawa all the years he studied, and... students hadn't used them. He told us that Master Odo put it like this: "Even the rats avoid them."
According to Sensei, Master Odo was very disappointed in his last years teaching. He was very disappointed in his students. From what Sensei said, it sounded as if Master Odo had pretty much given up on them, didn't expect much from them...
When the teacher gives up, the students give up, too. I have to ask, How much of the students' failure was the teacher's fault?

28: Saturday

No practice.

29: Sunday

Sun and cloud, but no breeze: humid and too warm— and black flies: a lousy day to practice. Instead, I tended my garden on the porch. I planted my lone tomato, my small red zinnias, and repotted my white sage.
Later. The evening sky is darkening blue behind pink sunset clouds. It's still warm, but the bugs are gone...
Some Chen... Section one... slowly, trying to be mindful of what each move is about... trying thus to minimize the number of questions that arise...
At the last of section one, when my left hand ni-chans in towards my left ear and my right legs shun chans back and in and around so I'm in position, ready to pound that mortar, What is my left foot coordinating with? It has to turn from pointing to the left forty-five to point straigh ahead. It must move with the hands, but... I haven't quite made, can't feel, any connection...
Section five... why is shi zi bai lian so difficult? *sigh* Even so, this section is more interesting now that I'm more awake to the form...
I was working up a sweat in the form, but nothing like the sweat I developed as I stood, left elbow pinned, reeling silk with my left hand... *hrumph* You think you're relaxed, but— ha!
Maybe I'll venture out again later when it's cooler.

30: Monday

Gorgeous day. Sunny and cool.
Except for the odd bouts of silk reeling, I didn't practice— but I did watch Shaolin Soccer again. I'm sure that counts for something.

31: Tuesday

I've been thinking lately about the concept of the process of testing for rank advancement...
The dojo kun says that we should strengthen our characters through continual practice. If we do practice continually— like drops of water that wear away stone— and mindfully, then we will continually improve. If we continually improve, inevitably, we will attain a higher level of skill, which will then qualify us for higher ranking. Seen thus, attainment of rank is a natural process.
However, think what happens to this natural process when one introduces the concept of scheduling rank tests...
Testing is artificial. Setting a test implies that the natural process of improvement is inadequate, that persons who are practicing earnestly every day, constantly endeavoring to improve, are not doing enough. Testing implies that improvement must be forced to happen on some arbitrarily set time schedule else it isn't of value.
The unfortunate effect of this artificial process is to train people to practice for the sake of reward, not for the sake of practice. And this implies that the people who are preparing for a test haven't been giving their best efforts; that they won't try to do their best unless they are being scrutinized for advancement. What does that say about their characters? People of character don't need someone watching over them to make them practice to the very best of their ability.
No, now that I've had three years to observe the testing process in various incarnations, I don't like the idea of testing for rank. I think it is a bad practice. Students should be encouraged to practice. Just practice. Then, when a student has attained a certain level of skill, the Sensei should inform him that he is now ranked at such and such a level...
Interestingly enough, if rank were awarded this way, we would be in a constant state of testing. Talk about building character!
Taiji.
I'm in another— a different place now, and I don't like it. It's a hard and lonely place...
Energy. Peng, lu, ji, an. I feel very stuipd and very discouraged.
I used to be able to see the energy— I still can see energy, but now I "see" there's more to it, and I don't understand it or the ways it works.
Tonight... was good. Jonas explained a little more about ji...
We were left to work out the counter counter counter move for our white crane exercises. I came up with— no, the counter3 is an. It was the counter to that I figured out, counter4. To wit: bring your hand inside and shun chan both.
At least I had enough sense to figure that much out. But I hate where I am. I hate feeling stupid. I hate not knowing what's going on with the energies. I hate being alone with no one to practice with.