originally written on october 14, 2013
I did Tai Chi this morning!!
Let me begin a little further back.
I grew up doing martial arts: Shotokan karate, judo, wushu kung fu, jiu jitsu, capoeira. I have loved every minute of every day training, jumping, bruising, sweating, running, breaking- all of it. The good and the tough. The whole culture of martial arts has been ingrained in me from an early, early age: respect, integrity, honor. The culture of sport martial arts has also been ingrained in me: energy, passion, flair, and a little cockiness.
In other words, I lived for classes and competition.
When I was in my very early twenties, my mom found a Tai Chi class that she wanted to take. It was the only near-martial arts class we had found in awhile (having moved away from our town and therefore our karate studio), so I decided to join her.
I hated it.
It was so slow! So slow and breath-centered and quiet, and there was no flashiness, no energy, no KIAH!
I was disappointed and bored.
Needless to say, I didn’t return. Thanks for the one class, sir, but no more for me.
Years later, after my retirement from competition and sport karate (my body had had quite enough, unfortunately), I became a yoga instructor. Funny how things come full circle… yoga is very much a slow, intentional, breath-centered endeavor, quiet and inwardly-focused.
Not at all like my glory days with martial arts.
But I love it. I love the way it makes my body feel, I love the way it soothes my mind and calms and focuses my breathing. I love the control it gives me over my emotions and thought and body. I love it.
Fast forward to October 2013. My World Race squad is sent to China, while my team ends up in the territory of Tibet (how cool is that??). Our contact lets us know that there is Tai Chi in the town square in the mornings.
Tai Chi? I know Tai Chi! I hated it a million years ago, but maybe now it’ll be different… Also, we’re in stinking China/Tibet. If there was ever a time and place to go do some Tai Chi in the town square at 7 am in the freezing cold, it was NOW.
Karilyn and I jogged the fifteen minutes or so it took to get there, and then joined the only group we could find: a large number of middle-aged women in jogging suits and face masks (this is a big deal here), doing what can only be described as Chinese Zumba for Senior Citizens. No Tai Chi anywhere in sight.
Only the tiniest bit disappointed, we decide to join the women and dance around a bit. I feel a little like the young Japanese girl from The Karate Kid II, when she’s doing a traditional dance for Daniel, only with cheesier music and faster movement. At one point Johnny Cash’s Hurt came on as an introduction to the traditional Chinese music and it was both awesome and hysterical.
Anyway, after the second song or so, I notice a group of older men across the courtyard who were most definitely doing Tai Chi. I mention to Karilyn that I think I’d like to go join them (after the current Zumba song, of course), and she mentions a little worriedly that there are only men over there. Which I also think is a little scary, because what if I go over there and they say no, I can’t join?
But how many times am I going to be here in China/Tibet (Chinet? Tibina?) standing within a hundred yards of men who have been doing Tai Chi their entire lives?
So when the song ends I buck up my courage and walk purposefully toward the men and who have are still moving to their music.
I do my best version of charades and ask to join them. They nod with what looks like a little reluctance, and I join in with fervor and abandon.
It was ecstasy.
All their stances were things I had studied for years: front stance, horse stance, cat stance. The arm movements were a bit tricky, but my brief foray into kung fu helped me catch on decently fast. It was slow enough for me to focus on my breathing, as well as what I should be doing with all my limbs.
After the song ended, the men gathered around me and started speaking in rapid Chinese which I understood nothing of. And we’re talking full paragraphs. I tried listening very hard, hoping to hear one of the phrases we had learned in yesterday’s Mandarin class: How are you? What do you do for a living? Where are you going? But no such luck. I smiled, and laughed, and held my hands palm up while shrugging to let them know I had no idea what they were saying. And then I asked their names (one of the few phrases I’m comfortable using). I heard Wo (pronounced Wawe) something, Zhou (Joh) something, and another name that was four syllables long. I asked them again later, to try to remember them, but I just couldn’t. I am not an auditory learner, that’s for sure. Maybe next time I can get them to write their names down.
After I introduced myself as well, they turned the music back on (super traditional, old-soundy music), and back to Tai Chi we went. After this next form, they all pointed at me and gave me thumbs up, smiling and laughing. I hope that means they thought I was doing a good job, and not what is she doing? this is the funniest thing I’ve ever seen…
We did three or four more forms before the end of our time together that morning, and each was more awesome than the last. I was finally getting the hang of all the different kinds of movement and turns and balances. It was so much fun, and I could feel my muscles warming and stretching and working, just like they do during our Insanity workouts, just with less burning and sweating.
I had the best time this morning. I’m hoping to go back as much as possible in our last two weeks here. I’m hoping to build on my conversational skills so I can at least communicate a little bit with the 71-year-old, 62-year-old, and 56-year old, all of whom (when I told them I was 28) thought I was kidding and only 18. Ah, the humor of grandpas.
I’m sitting back at home now, waiting on breakfast and worship with my team, and I don’t know if I could feel any happier or more at peace. There is much to be broken-hearted over in this town, with its enormous Buddhist monastery, and it’s popular Muslim mosque, and it’s absolute 0% Christian population. But being with some of the townspeople this morning, joining them in their world just a little bit, gives me a little insight into who they are as people, and a lot more love for them.
Update: I ended up running to the town square multiple times during the month, to practice Tai Chi with my new friends. The eldest (and who I assume to be the leader), offered me individual instruction between sequences, in the form of grunts, stomping, and slapping. These were some of the cooler moments of an already amazing experience. It was just like being back home in my karate studio, being corrected and trained by my coaches and senseis. I ended up showing them an old kung fu form that I performed a million years ago, and every morning after they requested to see it. The only word that we ever communicated well with each other was in reference to it: “Wushu?” “Yes, Wushu!” I learned a lot from these quiet, wise men, and had made some of my best memories on the Race.
This is one of the highlights of my year. I will remember this day- and this month- for the rest of my life.
from one of the many mornings i trained with them
my tai chi master, whose name i never could figure out, but who offered me special instruction daily
