by Linda Myoki Lehrhaupt (an excerpt )
“Almost everyone who practices t’ai chi for a period of time will tell you that what began as a weekly class in a movement exercise became a study in living and personal growth. T’ai chi is a path of wisdom meditation, but it is also a path with heart–to ourselves first and, then like ripples spreading in a still pond, to everything and everyone around us…When we begin learning the t’ai chi form one of the first things we come up against is our desire to learn quickly, effortlessly, and perfectly. As every beginning student finds out, however, it takes time, effort, and patience to learn t’ai chi. It asks us to dedicate a part of our day to ourselves even when we don’t want to. It asks us to keep going, even when it looks like we’re going nowhere…In fact, learning t’ai chi is really a process of learning how to learn. This process is based on the understanding that what we discover about ourselves is just as important as simply performing a t’ai chi move correctly, if not more so. Learning how to learn includes developing the capacity to become intimate with our frustration and self-doubt. We see that what seemed like an obstacle can become an opportunity and, though small, can change our life entirely…
One of the central points of t’ai chi as a path of wisdom is finding our way to being at home with who we are. In the beginning we often approach learning t’ai chi with a self-critical attitude that does not allow us to be either patient or comfortable with ourselves. We apply the competitive spirit that is so valued in our world, leading us to judge ourselves constantly, to set up standards of discipline that are difficult to attain, or to undermine ourselves with harsh critical comments. But as Pema Chodron, a Tibetan Buddhist teacher, writes so beautifully in The Wisdom of No Escape, ‘Meditation practice isn’t about trying to throw ourselves away and become something better. It’s about befriending who we are already.’
If we practice t’ai chi as a path of wisdom, we will see that it continually asks us to open ourselves and to let go of those destructive ideas and acts that weaken our spirit and undermine our intention. It will lead us through the process of acknowledging our strengths without pride and recognizing our weaknesses without scorn. To work with ourselves in this way feels exactly the same as when we help a baby stand up after she has fallen down. We take her by the hand and wait patiently for her to stabilize on her own two feet. Then we give her a big kiss, let go of her hands, and say, ‘Go ahead, sweetie, Try again!’ That is the heart of practice…
If we can think of our t’ai chi practice as an invitation to someone dear to us, it will help us to take care of ourselves as we would a good friend. If a friend is tired or hungry, we help him or give her something to eat. If he feels low, we try to be there for him. If her muscles are tight, we get out the body oil and clear the dining table to serve as a massage table. It all happens, it all unfolds, because we naturally want to support a friend.
When you stand up to do the form you are being there for yourself as you would be for a friend if she or he needed you. It is extremely helpful to think in these terms because it encourages us to be kind to ourselves. It helps to counter a tendency to want to run away from practicing because we are afraid of failing or because it’s too lonely to train by ourselves. When we treat our t’ai chi practice as an opportunity to dance all aspects of our life, we embrace it all…”