It happened a few weeks back. Partner work (we prefer to use this term rather than push hands) with someone who was just using brute force. All the years of cultivated softness and relaxation I could feel leaving my body as we practiced. The frustration begins to mount, and the tension starts to build. If I’m not careful the principles will go out the window. How could it be so difficult? Where was the ‘soft overcoming the hard’ that is promised in The Classics? The one I was training so diligently for? I left that training feeling slightly dejected.
As a practitioner of Taiji there is no doubt that your faith will be tested. Quite often that test coming just at the moment you feel like you have accomplished something. For those without the perseverance it is easy at these times to give up the art. Or worse, to lean into the world of brute strength and amateur wrestling. However, for those who persist, hope usually follows closely after doubt. It was at the end of this class that another student lent me a book by Robert Smith (T’ai-Chi, 1967) which contained translated interviews with him and Professor Cheng Man Ching. As fortune would have it, I landed on the page that just so happened to give me some insight. The excerpt which I share below:
Student: In most fighting arts, students have invariably approached and surpassed the achievements of their teachers. Why is it that none of your pupils approach you? Indeed, irrespective of how rapidly some have progressed, all of them fall far below your level. What is the secret?
Master: You are right, there is a secret. But it is so simple as to be unbelievable. Its nature insist that you believe, that you have faith; otherwise you will fail. You must be prepared to accept defeat repeatedly and for a long period; you must “invest in loss” - otherwise you will never succeed. I succeeded to my present state because I pushed pride aside and believed my master’s words. I relaxed my body and stilled my mind so that only ch’i, flowing at the command of my mind, remained. Initially, this brought many bruises and defeats. In fact, in some matches I was pushed so hard that I lost consciousness. But I persisted. I followed my teacher by listening and heeding my ch’i. In crushing defeat, I forgot anxiety, pride, ego. By emptying myself I gave the full field to ch’i. Gradually my technique improved. Then, and then only, did my responses sharpen so that neutralising and countering were the work of a moment. My students either do not believe in this path or, if they do, they do not pursue it eagerly enough.
So… the answer to my situation: when someone was more hard and more strong was more relaxation, more letting go, deeper faith?. How is that possible?? Didn’t I already cultivate so much through the years of training?
I reminisced on my early years learning the art. How relaxed I felt, how much I thought I could sink. Compared to now I was just a baby. I had no idea the depths I could have explored those concepts. Perhaps that was the same now, that what I thought I knew and thought I could feel paled in comparison to future possibilities that existed and one day I would look back and think about how naïve I am. But that would only be possible if I keep practicing, keep following the process and keep (or continue?) to trust the way of softness.
There once was a saying attributed to Jesus that said if you had the faith of a mustard seed you could move mountains. The power of that sentence didn’t really hit home for me until one day while reading commentary on Patanjalis Yoga Sutras the author talked about faith like a seed, not because it was small but because just like a seed it could grow.
I think that is enough for me to work with. I don’t need enough faith for the whole journey, just enough for the next step.