Hi Audi and others,
<BLOCKQUOTE><font size="1" face="Verdana, Arial">quote:</font><HR><font face="Verdana, Arial" size="2"><B>
If you can concentrate on circulating the opponent’s energy and not having it stick within your body, you can always return it to your opponent. </B></font><HR></BLOCKQUOTE>
Nice description there. Can you expand a little on what you think it means to circulate your opponent’s energy through your body? Not so much how as what is happening. Are you talking about circulating their energy within your body without outward movement (until you return it to them)? Or are you talking about moving your body so as to conserve momentum (the way a Slinky spring toy moves)? It’s probably the same thing, but on different scales.
I’m slowly coming to a new understanding of circulating the opponent’s energy through my body. Previously, I’ve felt that it’s difficult to keep other people’s energy from impinging on my sense of personal space. So when we push, and I feel their energy start to come into me, it feels like something that should not be there so I want to tense up and resist. Then I thought maybe it was better to see about dissolving the boundaries between me and them, to let everything come in pass through me like wind or water, because if they found no resistance, then they could just go through without affecting me. But that didn’t work either. It was disturbing b/c there was too much information coming in, more than I could handle or tolerate, and I think it was disturbing for others b/c they couldn’t tell where I was, or the edges of me blurred in to their space and then I was too much up in their space. It was like I was absorbing too much—their energy was getting stuck in me anyway b/c I was unable to yield that much without feeling like there was too much of them in me and that I was losing my sense of self. Not good!
So now I’m thinking of myself as more solid, still trying to be springy and focus on yielding, but now when I let energy pass through me, it’s only the energy that comes in and not the sense of the person. How to describe it? I guess it’s back to the balloon analogy: a balloon has a distinct surface and boundary. If you hit it, it will yield and spin or bounce, but your hand does not go into the balloon. The force of your hand acts on the balloon, and the energy passes through it, but the thing that exerted the force does not. It’s the container, the skin of the balloon surface, which allows the balloon have a sense of solidity, to move through the air without dispersing into the air itself. If the balloon’s skin is dissolved or punctured, it deflates and collapses in on itself. There is nothing that can stick to the surface of anything pushing at it. All the air leaks out and becomes indistinguishable from the surrounding air. A balloon without its skin isn’t even a balloon. It’s just air and a person could wave his hands around all he likes without being able to feel anything solid.
Yeah, I was really going about it all wrong. Information can still be transmitted through the skin of a balloon. If I am clear about where my edge is, I can still stick and listen. My surface can be quite flexible and adapt to the changing shape of my opponent’s intent. I can still react to everything they do, but it’s easier to understand what I’m doing and what they’re doing. My blurred edges thing just made it really confusing to tell who was doing what and was dreadfully uncomfortable for all involved.
Back to circulating energy: It’s not always possible for me to return the opponent’s energy in a simple circle. I just noticed that when I can’t circle back directly, I sometimes make an extra “loop”or two (horizontal, vertical, at an angle, spiral, whatever) to conserve the momentum of their in-coming push. When I do this, I feel like I’m yielding & sticking to the 4 oz. you were talking about when thinking of pulling a bull along by its nose-ring (nice analogy, btw).
<BLOCKQUOTE><font size="1" face="Verdana, Arial">quote:</font><HR><font face="Verdana, Arial" size="2"><B>I think that in many positions, we interpret the opponent’s touch as a threat that needs to be avoided or eliminated. By yielding to these tendencies we commit the fault of diu1, which means losing contact with the opponent’s energy. We then become anxious about the next touch we encounter and become obsessed with the speed of the exchanges, because there is a particular feel that we are trying to avoid and which we cannot avoid except for brief moments.
Contrast this attitude of avoiding threatening contact with one that welcomes and even needs direct contact and engagement. Here you actually want the opponent to apply energy to you, because it gives you a point of control and allows you to increase your margin of safety. There is much less of a trigger for panic, since energy is what you want and need. With the more calm, the more control. With the more control, the more calm. </B></font><HR></BLOCKQUOTE>
Good points--it’s not the opponent who gets us, it’s our own anxieties. It’s interesting too, how with one person we can stay calm, with another person we are anxious. And although the physical movements may be very similar, the intent can be enough to change the entire situation. I think you’ve hit the nail on the head—it’s trying to get away and avoid a threatening contact that takes us away from the seemingly paradoxical safety of solid, aware contact.
On a related note, I did a google search the other day on martial arts and it came up with this article by a woman named Lynn Finger on the idea martial arts as a vehicle for overcoming alienation from the self, the enemy within, and finally recognizing that the enemy does not exist. If you can wrap your mind around the fact that it’s a martial arts article in an astrology magazine, there are some interesting ideas there. A lot of my focus in tai chi training is figuring out how to calm down and stop fighting with myself so many things in this article resonated. You can find it at:
http://www.mountainastrologer.com/finger.html
For example, she quotes the founder of Aikido, Morihei Ueshiba (1883-1969):
"I am the Universe ... when an enemy tries to fight with me, the universe itself, he has to break the harmony of the universe. Hence, at the moment he has the mind to fight with me, he is already defeated."
Something to aspire to anyway!
I’ve been resistant to the idea of astrology, but the article drew me enough that for kicks I had my star chart drawn up, and whaddayaknow, it correlates with her analysis. Weird! I don’t know what the probability is, but it was strange.
For those of you who read the article: what do you think about her alienation thesis? When you look at yourself and the others you’re training with, does it seem the case that others are rebellious social outcasts struggling with the loneliness and alienation of (possible) genius through the medium of tai chi (or whatever other martial art you’ve trained in)?
Thanks,
Kal