My Tai Chi teacher asked us to think about the reasons why we like Tai Chi, why we keep on going back, week after week, even though the training is frequently frustrating and often involves some degree of discomfort, if not outright pain. It is certainly not a simple question with an easy answer; my reasons for training are as complex as the art itself.
I first started Tai Chi classes because I knew the people who were starting up a class at my local gym and I knew that I needed to find some form of sustainable exercise that might improve my health. I am not one to enjoy an exercise class but my first class, which consisted of qi gong exercises and some breathing exercises, left me feeling as though I had just had a wonderful full-body massage and I surprised myself by looking forward to the next class with an unusual degree of impatience. The teacher demonstrated part of the Yang style Long Form which looked so complex and so elegant, with a palpable hidden depth; my response was to think, "I want to be able to do that".
Within a few weeks I was trying to fit more classes into my schedule, until I was training Tai Chi up to six times a week. If there was a class at the training centre, I found myself going, even when I had not planned to do so. It was something my body wanted to do and my mind was more than happy to join in as there was something for it to do too; meditation and theory were as interesting as the exercises were exhilarating. I soon discovered that beneath the gentle exercise and disciplined routine lies a powerful, defensive martial art. I discovered that I was learning to hold my body, to move it and to use it, in the way that it is meant to be used. By correcting the posture in my neck and shoulders, I shrugged off years of pain in those areas. By learning how to feel my weight, I learnt how to balance more effectively. I learnt how to access the strength of my whole body, instead of trying to use just a part of it.
The scope for self-improvement is unending as there are always new layers of refinement to practise. For a perfectionist, this was surprisingly liberating. Since perfection is impossible and I will be considered a novice for many years yet, there is no pressure to attain immediate excellence; I can work at the correct pace for my mind and my body, striving only to do just a little better each time, competing only against myself. The balance of hard and soft, that is encompassed in the Yin Yang, seemed a beautiful metaphor for how my life, my being, is structured. It made me realise that all the opposites and contradictions within my character are essential components, an important part of me; I began to feel more peace within myself.
It has not always been easy. When my depression became severe the tai chi was insufficient to counter the deep lethargy that made me avoid everything I enjoyed and I missed a lot of training. What I did notice, though, was that I really missed it, in the sense that I felt worse off for not training; I noticed the lack of it and suffered for it. With the fibromyalgia flaring up, my muscles find it hard to work through some of the training. A routine that appears to be slow and gentle can be very hard work to the deep muscles being used and can leave me feeling quite exhausted, having worked up a considerable sweat. What I do know, from returning to regular training, is that I feel much better when I train and much worse when I don't. I have trained in Tai Chi for over three years now and I don't plan to stop.
So in answer to the original question, "why do I like Tai Chi?"; It gives me strength, both physically and mentally. It makes me think about my mind and my body and how they connect to each other and to the world around me. It calms me and energises me and helps me to find my energy. It gives me a challenge that I need in order to find myself and improve myself. It is part of my life now.
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