The first thing I should say is that the Yin Style Bagua workshops put on this year by Matt Bild were absolutely incredible. In over sixteen years of doing martial arts now, the last six doing Yin Style Bagua, this year's workshops were by far the best I have ever attended. Matt was incredibly efficient and professional in getting across his agenda, which in this case was to help us all develop clarity and confidence in using the art of Yin Style for the purpose it was made: fighting. Particularly, the workshop was designed around developing clarity in use of force and positioning to achieve a good and sure result against a realistic backdrop of another skilled fighter.
That brings me to the theme of today's post-workshop post, now that I've had a couple of weeks to sort through how my thinking about training has been affected. Training has to be goal-oriented, focused, and clear, and it is an utter obligation to be diligent and serious about this including being reflective about meeting the training goals. Goals also have to be realistic and functional. This should change everything about how we train this art.
Showing posts with label turning. Show all posts
Showing posts with label turning. Show all posts
Saturday, November 17, 2012
Wednesday, May 9, 2012
Re: Turning the circle, keeping it real (by me) on Yin Style Bagua -- Knoxville
If you've seen it, great. If you haven't, check out my post on the blog I made for our study group concerning circle turning practice: Yin Style Bagua -- Knoxville: Turning the circle, keeping it real. As the day went on, I thought more about what I wrote, and I have more to say about it. Since I feel that what I have to say about it is more personal than "official," I'm saying it on this blog instead of on the group training blog.
Monday, May 7, 2012
New blog, odds and ends
I've created a new blog for the Yin Style Baguazhang, Knoxville, study group specifically, so I can turn this blog back toward being one about my personal journey instead of one about our group. Follow the linked words to check it out.
That said, I can give some little updates on my own training, specifically on my circle-turning goal, which has occupied my attention far more than it has space on my blog! Details after the fold.
That said, I can give some little updates on my own training, specifically on my circle-turning goal, which has occupied my attention far more than it has space on my blog! Details after the fold.
Friday, March 9, 2012
Accountability in turning, February style
I've really got to set aside more time for this... the only posts I've had a chance to get to this year are boring ones about my turning goal. I'll try to create a couple of good content posts in the next week or two, so stay tuned! There's a fair amount worth talking about.
In the meantime, let me keep myself accountable and put up some details about how my efforts toward my turning goal played out in February.
In the meantime, let me keep myself accountable and put up some details about how my efforts toward my turning goal played out in February.
Tuesday, February 7, 2012
A little accountability: January's progress report on turning goal
For those of you that have been following along with my training, you know I'm doing a project this year involving turning the circle. Specifically, I'm aiming to get 200 hours on the circle in 2012. This post is a short report on how I did with the project through January. For those of you that aren't interested in my personal training, this post isn't probably worth much to you, so you can skip it.
Friday, January 6, 2012
Mental discipline, turning the circle and other grinding
Because of my desire to improve that aspect of my Yin Style Bagua training and the resultant new year's resolution to turn more, I've been on the circle this week far more than what has (shamefully) been average in the last while. That, of course, has me thinking about turning more, and, for the purposes of this blog, that has me thinking about the challenges related to turning. Of course, these lessons are far more broadly applicable than this particular useful, if esoteric, practice.
Sunday, September 4, 2011
Volume ladder training protocol for massive development
There is a particular key to training a martial art well, and that key is repetition. In Yin Style Baguazhang, things are no different, and as every practitioner knows, massive repetitions of the basic drills and exercises are expected and required to move forward. Of course, these repetitions cannot be performed blindly if development is desired; there must a be a constant endeavor to improve coupled with smart training techniques and constant refinement. Still, doing huge numbers of repetitions is a daunting task that can begin to feel like grinding, possibly leading to burnout, stagnant training, or frustration. A bodybuilding protocol called the "volume ladder" can be implemented, however, to help with this situation.
Monday, July 25, 2011
Training tip: How to improve your endurance for circle turning practice
It's been a long time since I've posted. This is because I've begun, hopefully professionally, another writing project that more or less consumes all of my interested-in-writing time on any given day. My apologies to those of you who expected better.
That aside, I've been experimenting with another method that beginners can use to really improve their endurance when it comes to turning the circle, although this same method should work with some modification for any practice requiring endurance, including the other aspects of training Yin Style Baguazhang or any other martial art. I've adapted this method from the one that I used to study for my doctoral qualifying exams and have found it very useful in a number of regards. The chief benefit is that one can find steady, marked improvement without ever falling into the dangerous trap of over training, which even with practices like turning the circle can result in a net loss in valuable training time in the long run. The method employs incremental improvement from an intelligently chosen starting place. The idea is that each training session is taxing without being overkill. The result is remarkable, quick improvement.
That aside, I've been experimenting with another method that beginners can use to really improve their endurance when it comes to turning the circle, although this same method should work with some modification for any practice requiring endurance, including the other aspects of training Yin Style Baguazhang or any other martial art. I've adapted this method from the one that I used to study for my doctoral qualifying exams and have found it very useful in a number of regards. The chief benefit is that one can find steady, marked improvement without ever falling into the dangerous trap of over training, which even with practices like turning the circle can result in a net loss in valuable training time in the long run. The method employs incremental improvement from an intelligently chosen starting place. The idea is that each training session is taxing without being overkill. The result is remarkable, quick improvement.
Sunday, December 12, 2010
Ask Dr. Jimberly -- Yin Style Bagua questions and answers -- About turning and breathing
Since I get questions in my email from time to time about training in Yin Style, and since people tend to be happy enough with my answers, I've decided a nice thing to do would be to put some of these questions and answers up on the blog, maintaining anonymity, so that others can hear them as well, just in case they happen to have the same questions. Now, to be fair, I have to point out that I'm not always going to be 100% correct with my answers and am responding to the best of my knowledge, and so you can try these things out for yourself, see if they work or not, and always feel encouraged to pass your questions along to higher authorities in the art.
Today's question is about turning and breathing, particularly what kind of breathing is appropriate for turning practice in Yin Style Baguazhang. The exact wording of the question is
Today's question is about turning and breathing, particularly what kind of breathing is appropriate for turning practice in Yin Style Baguazhang. The exact wording of the question is
I have a question about breathing. Do we use lower abdominal breathing or reverse breathing. Hope that you can help... Thank youHere was my response to this worthy inquiry:
Friday, August 20, 2010
An hour a day... Turning training tips for beginners: Getting your time up
Turning practice is difficult, and to follow Yin Style Baguazhang's demanding schedule for maximum development, it is a goal of all serious Yin Style practitioners to turn for an hour a day on every day that their schedule permits (particularly if there's a seminar or intensive coming up!). If you've ever turned, particularly the way we turn in Yin Style, then you know that an hour is a long time to turn.
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
How a Timer Can Help Your Training
Someone's going to jump up and down about this, particularly after my recent post about tips for circle-turning practice in which I had a subject heading labeled
Convenience
You can easily set a timer and decide to do an exercise, class of exercises, or exercise routine until the timer goes off. This is convenient if you have a known, limited amount of time in which to train ("my roast is done in an hour, time to rock out some training without worrying about burning it!") or if you need/want something external to really push you. Be sure to get a timer with an alarm that is loud enough so that you don't have any desire to go running over to it to check it periodically which is a sure sign that your mind is not fully on your training. A good use of the timer is to take your mind off of how long you have to train and let it do the worrying-about-that for you. This, by the way, is a distinct difference from using a clock, which you'd have to continually check.
Accountability
A timer is a funny little object in that it has no mind, no authority, and no power whatsoever as it is only measuring an arbitrary duration with arbitrary (but agreed-upon) units to some debatable level of accuracy, and yet it's pretty easy to hold yourself accountable to those little bad-boys. Set the timer, do whatever you've decided to do until the timer goes off, and let it be keep you on task until the time goes off. You can always do more if that wasn't enough or if it lit your fire, with or without the timer. Remember one of my golden training rules, though, when you set out on this kind of practice: things are easier to write down than to do.
Challenging Yourself
Let's say you have a good idea of how many such-and-suches that you can do effectively and roughly how long that takes. Using a timer to tack on a little more time ("a little" is defined in terms of the exercise you're doing) than what you are pretty sure you can do well and committing to trying your damnedest to perform through that whole time. If you can, then it benefited you. If you can't, then remember that the goal is quality, not quantity, and so you can do what you can do with quality, rest a bit, and then pick it back up to finish out the time (you might stop the timer while you're resting) when you've had a little break to regain steam. Since it's easy to be accountable to a timer, this is an excellent use of the timer in your training. After convenience (because I have a lot of crap to do in my life too), this is my primary use of a training timer.
Keeping Your Mind On Task
This really falls under "convenience" and was mentioned there, but it's so valuable and important that it gets its own little separate place too. If you're doing strikes or turning or whatever, and you're measuring what you're doing by counting them, which is totally natural, commonplace, and fine for certain things, then your mind isn't entirely on your training. It's great for group training, but then again, the timer serves the same function here. You can set a timer to a rough number by knowing roughly how many strikes you can do in a minute if you're doing them at the right speed (~30, btw). How can you find that out for yourself instead of comparing against my numbers? Do some strikes, count them, and time it. Figure out strikes per minute by dividing the number of strikes you did by the number of minutes it took (Math Note: There are not 100 seconds in a minute, and thus there is a meaningful difference between "one minute and twenty-three seconds" and "1.23 minutes." You can avoid having to convert to correct for this kind of thing by setting the timer for something like five minutes, doing your strikes, and letting the count be as it will). The same goes for turning if you're a revolutions-counter. Make sure to keep the timer out of view while you train, or this aspect probably goes right out the window as the timer becomes a distraction instead of a tool to increase focus.
There are also improper ways to use the timer and should be watched for and avoided: letting it be your cop-out if you're not pushing yourself hard enough when you have the time to train more than you are (the timer went off, so I was done), allowing "how long" you did something to matter in any way to you whatsoever other than as a rough measure of progress or conditioning, and allowing your training goals to start to center more on time (quantity) than on quality, for some examples. These insidious little problems are easy to let creep in, so you want to stay aware of them and let them pass.
Here are a couple of examples of how I use a timer to get in some really nice little workouts (ignoring the obvious "convenience" factor labeled above):
Do Not Base Your Turning on a Clock, a Number of Revolutions, or Some Other Crap that Isn't Worth a Damn.I hope not to be flamed about this because a timer can be and is a helpful training tool if it is used correctly. Here, I endeavor to describe more fully what role a timer plays in my training and how it could help or potentially hinder yours. Here are some proper uses of the timer in training:
Convenience
You can easily set a timer and decide to do an exercise, class of exercises, or exercise routine until the timer goes off. This is convenient if you have a known, limited amount of time in which to train ("my roast is done in an hour, time to rock out some training without worrying about burning it!") or if you need/want something external to really push you. Be sure to get a timer with an alarm that is loud enough so that you don't have any desire to go running over to it to check it periodically which is a sure sign that your mind is not fully on your training. A good use of the timer is to take your mind off of how long you have to train and let it do the worrying-about-that for you. This, by the way, is a distinct difference from using a clock, which you'd have to continually check.
Accountability
A timer is a funny little object in that it has no mind, no authority, and no power whatsoever as it is only measuring an arbitrary duration with arbitrary (but agreed-upon) units to some debatable level of accuracy, and yet it's pretty easy to hold yourself accountable to those little bad-boys. Set the timer, do whatever you've decided to do until the timer goes off, and let it be keep you on task until the time goes off. You can always do more if that wasn't enough or if it lit your fire, with or without the timer. Remember one of my golden training rules, though, when you set out on this kind of practice: things are easier to write down than to do.
Challenging Yourself
Let's say you have a good idea of how many such-and-suches that you can do effectively and roughly how long that takes. Using a timer to tack on a little more time ("a little" is defined in terms of the exercise you're doing) than what you are pretty sure you can do well and committing to trying your damnedest to perform through that whole time. If you can, then it benefited you. If you can't, then remember that the goal is quality, not quantity, and so you can do what you can do with quality, rest a bit, and then pick it back up to finish out the time (you might stop the timer while you're resting) when you've had a little break to regain steam. Since it's easy to be accountable to a timer, this is an excellent use of the timer in your training. After convenience (because I have a lot of crap to do in my life too), this is my primary use of a training timer.
Keeping Your Mind On Task
This really falls under "convenience" and was mentioned there, but it's so valuable and important that it gets its own little separate place too. If you're doing strikes or turning or whatever, and you're measuring what you're doing by counting them, which is totally natural, commonplace, and fine for certain things, then your mind isn't entirely on your training. It's great for group training, but then again, the timer serves the same function here. You can set a timer to a rough number by knowing roughly how many strikes you can do in a minute if you're doing them at the right speed (~30, btw). How can you find that out for yourself instead of comparing against my numbers? Do some strikes, count them, and time it. Figure out strikes per minute by dividing the number of strikes you did by the number of minutes it took (Math Note: There are not 100 seconds in a minute, and thus there is a meaningful difference between "one minute and twenty-three seconds" and "1.23 minutes." You can avoid having to convert to correct for this kind of thing by setting the timer for something like five minutes, doing your strikes, and letting the count be as it will). The same goes for turning if you're a revolutions-counter. Make sure to keep the timer out of view while you train, or this aspect probably goes right out the window as the timer becomes a distraction instead of a tool to increase focus.
There are also improper ways to use the timer and should be watched for and avoided: letting it be your cop-out if you're not pushing yourself hard enough when you have the time to train more than you are (the timer went off, so I was done), allowing "how long" you did something to matter in any way to you whatsoever other than as a rough measure of progress or conditioning, and allowing your training goals to start to center more on time (quantity) than on quality, for some examples. These insidious little problems are easy to let creep in, so you want to stay aware of them and let them pass.
Here are a couple of examples of how I use a timer to get in some really nice little workouts (ignoring the obvious "convenience" factor labeled above):
- Turning: I set the timer, put it "over there" and turn until it goes off. If I cannot maintain the posture even by switching sides often, then I rest my arms by bringing them down or picking another posture to turn in (lower posture, chopping posture as a counter to the Lion posture, "tripod posture" for strength, Rooster posture because I got told to do it sometimes when I was in London, etc. There are lots of postures to choose from). After a bit, I go back to the Lion posture (or whichever you're currently focusing on) and do it as well as I can again. This process repeats until I use up all of the time.
- Saber: A favorite new drill of mine is to set a timer for a fixed time (usually 20 minutes) and then "not put down my saber" in that whole time. The real goal is, of course, to do drills for the entire time, and it's a wicked workout. There are drills, sections of the form, turning postures, and standing postures to choose from, and none of them lasts for a terribly long time with that beast, so it's a varied and exciting workout. If I "can't think of another drill to do" at any given moment, I do tracing the saber until something comes to mind. It doesn't ever take long. I do most of the drills as equally as possible in each hand to give one a rest while the other gets some work. It would be far harder to do it otherwise.
- Basic Drills: This applies to any martial art, actually, not just Yin Style Baguazhang. I pick one drill, set a timer, and try to do the best I can with it until the timer goes off. I usually pick a time period that pushes me a little but that isn't so hard that I have to really cheat to finish. For example, today I did tracing the saber for five minutes, switching hands whenever I needed to. It worked great. I got about 100 on each side, so now I have a rough timing mechanism too (40 traces per minute, roughly). I do this with strikes and forms as well. Strikes, I think, is obvious in method, and forms go by setting the timer to several minutes (5 or 8) and doing a particular form repetetively until time runs out, trying to make it as good and powerful as I can throughout. It's kind of sad to think about, but eight minutes straight of a form is kind of hard, and that's really not that long of a time period.
- Standing Practice: Obvious. Stand for a set time on a side, switch (helps to have a person working the timer for you). Do it again until you don't want to do it any more (two or three times on each side is usually pretty good). Alternatively, set a time (5-10 minutes is hard) and stand, switching sides as needed, until time runs out.
Friday, August 28, 2009
Turning: Tips for Starting Out
Turning is definitely a cornerstone practice of baguazhang. In fact, as has been mentioned countless times before and bears repeating countless more times, it is fair to say that turning the circle is probably baguazhang's most basic and yet most profound practice. It is easy enough to do, and yet it is very difficult to do well. Because my circle was hit by a truck and then found to be too big for my purposes, I've got to embark on the process of turning without my anchor all over again, and I've developed some tips in the process. For the record, I just started my real new circle today, and I would have pictures to show you except that my wife is off having an awesome time with our camera right now.
The first thing I think I can tell you fairly enough about turning is that it really helps to have a place that you do the vast majority of it... a single place. I've spent the last couple of months without such a place, though I have a variety of acceptable locations that I've been using, and every one of them has something wrong with it. First, I want it to be outside. I have an indoor turning place, but it's definitely not my preferred spot and is reserved for times when it's really wet out or really cold. I particularly don't like cleaning up the floor when I'm done turning inside, and I keep this slight fear in the back of my head that I'm going to wreck the floor eventually if I keep it up. Second, it has to be comfortable. Here in East Tennessee, f-ing everything is a hill. Even the hills have hills on them. I thought I had the only flat-enough place in my yard to turn, which is the one that I've forsaken. Luckily, I found another one. It also needs not to be too exposed. It's a bit uncomfortable turning in a spot that directly faces a road. I've been videotaped and photographed who knows how many times (vidoed twice, actually, but I don't know about the pictures) turning in a spot that directly faced my street at my old place, which wasn't even busy. It's okay to turn in a public place, but it's nicer when it's a bit more private. There are fewer distractions to contend with.
The real benefit of finding a good place to turn is that the location becomes significant, even though it really isn't. It's easy to become attached to that place, which of course is not so good except that it becomes a place that is almost sacred in a way, hallowed ground for the practitioner. Like other "sacred" spots, that allows that space to serve the main function of sanctity: reseting your mind to focus on the task at hand, which in this case is turning. If you turn anywhere and everywhere, good for you, but there's just something about having your spot to turn on that really makes you feel like it's time to get down to business doing just that one thing. Eventually, you'll have to let that place go, but that's alright too.
Here's how to go about finding a space and "claiming" it. First, take your time. Wander around the area you have to work with and take a look-see and see what you see. Does this place or that look good. Stand and turn around a little. How do things look now? Then go try a couple of other candidates if you can find any. Do the same thing. Then you can pick your favorite: the one that resonates with you and your personality best. Once you have that, you might want to turn on it right away for about three to five minutes. I did that today and immediately found that the place I picked wasn't as good as I thought. At first it seemed perfect, but as I got into turning, I could feel how lumpy the ground was there and that it was less level than I suspected. Moving over to my second choice turned out to be a great thing to do. Don't be afraid to move around a few inches or feet in any direction to find the best place in your little area. Little annoyances now will be big annoyances fifty miles around the never-ending bend. Once you've settled on a place that you're pretty sure you can be happy with, turn on it. Do it for a good while. If it's in grass, go until you've made a pretty good mark on the grass. Not only will that make you feel like you've accomplished something and get a decent turn in for you, it will also help to mark the spot so that next time you turn, you can find the same place much more easily and beat it into even better submission. That's like a feedback loop, and besides, the desire to go beat your circle into a beautifully formed sight is maybe that little bit of extra motivation that gets you turning for a half an hour more a week or so than you would have otherwise.
Once you've got a circle, you can get into your turning. Even if you don't have one, however, or if you want to follow the above guideline, you've got to start your turning somewhere. This next list of tips is really helpful for beginners as well as more experienced people that really want to focus their training and development.
Start Simple and Build Up
You don't have to dive directly into some esoteric, hard posture and turn with it. In fact, it's best if you don't. Start by feeling the natural curve of turning, trying to maintain your circle. When you feel good, put more attention in your legs and try to develop your stepping a little, making it more formal. When that feels good, add weight to your legs and try to sink. Do all of that before you even lift your hands from your side. That might be your first few weeks of turning practice, as a matter of fact. You want to get good at this, so you don't have to be in a hurry. Eventually, adopt a posture with your arms, but don't worry about strength or tension. Get used to the change in your body and alignment and slowly add strength over time. Eventually try to bring it all together. For a beginner, this might take six months. That's fine. For a more established practitioner, taking the time to redo this might revamp your attention to details you've been missing, so taking a week out of your normal routine turning to refine various aspects of it can have a major benefit on your practice.
Be Consistent
Turning a little every day is much more valuable than going all-out today and forgetting about it tomorrow and the next day. They say you need to turn for a while to really get development, but you don't have to turn for a long time to get skill and to stay connected to the practice. If you do it all in the same place (whenever possible) the building effect of this suggestion can have an even bigger impact. You might want to try to turn for an hour a day every day, and if you have it and the ability, good for you. If not, do what you can but try to make it a daily habit.
Do the Best You Can Do Today
You turned for an hour and a half yesterday and kept really solid focus and attention and did a great job with everything and were totally stoked about it and then today it pissed you off big time when you couldn't seem to get a clear head and your arms were as limp as dishrags? Cool, welcome to being normal. Your job is to do the very best you can with turning every time you turn, realizing fully that you're a different chick or dude every time you hit the circle. Some days, turning just works great. Some days, it's a chore. Some days, it sucks outright and hurts like hell. All days, do the best you can with what you've got that day.
Do Not Measure Your Performance Against Others
If your mom can turn for an hour and you can only turn for twenty minutes, don't get all mad at yourself or at your mom (n.b. your mom here is standing in for "someone else"). You should only measure your performance against yourself over time -- not even against "yesterday." Are you turning better than you were a month ago? Six months ago? Two years ago? (Are you even still turning after two years?!? If so, then freaking good for you!) As long as you're seeing improvement over time, then you're doing alright. If you're six or ten months down the road and not really improving, then you might need to soul-search and find out why. Maybe something's standing in your way? Maybe you're not putting as much into the practice as you should be? Maybe you're in a major rut for whatever reasons life might have thrown at you?
Do Not Base Your Turning on a Clock, a Number of Revolutions, or Some Other Crap that Isn't Worth a Damn
Yes, you can use those methods as a measuring stick or motivational tool, so don't throw them out, but realize they aren't the goal of the exercise. This is a statement of quality must outmatch quantity. If your body today only has ten good minutes in it, get those good ten minutes, push for a little while longer, and let that be how it is (always push a little past what you think is what is great and you'll get better over time... no stress = no improvement, usually). The real goal is improvement over time, not five hundred go-arounds. If you're more worried about a clock or number of revolutions than the quality of your turning, then your turning is going to be crap. If you're forcing the exercise, you're not doing it right. You should be pushing yourself, sure, but not forcing things to the point where the posture or stepping are failing.
Turn to Get Better at Turning
Do you remember my last post? If you do, then you know why you're turning (small scale): to get better at turning. Pay attention to details and requirements so that the goal is achieved. Like in the last point, if you don't get a really long time in, so what... as long as you feel like you honestly got better at turning or at least some aspect of the practice. This is where breaking the exercise down and rebuilding it from the ground up can really have a benefit even for established practitioners. Drop your hands sometimes and really check your legs out. Are you sinking right? Are you stepping correctly? Are you paying attention to all of the fine details of the footwork and body? Turn that way for a long time and see how things change over time. You might be surprised at what you need to work on. You can do the same thing adopting an easier hands-posture than Lion or one of the other animal postures (e.g. "lower posture," a beginner's/health-building posture). See what adding in the hands, even in an easier place, does to your feet. You might go through the whole process of adding your hands in to an animal posture loosely and then adding strength, spending some time in each place to see how it affects the whole. Refine, refine, refine! It's hard to pay attention to 100 things at once. You might also ignore the legs a little and focus on the upper body (but isn't that what we usually end up doing when we pretend we're training seriously anyway? ...no comment on my practice...). Eventually put it all back together and start paying attention to the more subtle requirements (if you know them). See what comes up! Most importantly, keep your head in this game!!!
Turn to Get Better at Baguazhang
Ah ha, now we've hit it: the real point of turning. Whatever your goals with Baguazhang are, they are enhanced by turning as long as your point in turning is to enhance your Baguazhang: be that as a martial art, a health-building practice, a moving meditation, or whatever-else-have-you. This has to underscore the entire practice because it is really the entire purpose for the practice of turning the circle: to get better at the art in which turning serves as a cornerstone. Keep that in the back of your mind while you turn and reflect on it while you wind-down afterwards. Ask yourself, out loud if you have to, "how did this benefit my bagua?" Try to find answers. If you don't have any, then you might need to break things down and look at the requirements all over again or listen more closely to the changes that should be taking place, slowly over time spent in a regular and dedicated turning practice, in your body and mind.
The first thing I think I can tell you fairly enough about turning is that it really helps to have a place that you do the vast majority of it... a single place. I've spent the last couple of months without such a place, though I have a variety of acceptable locations that I've been using, and every one of them has something wrong with it. First, I want it to be outside. I have an indoor turning place, but it's definitely not my preferred spot and is reserved for times when it's really wet out or really cold. I particularly don't like cleaning up the floor when I'm done turning inside, and I keep this slight fear in the back of my head that I'm going to wreck the floor eventually if I keep it up. Second, it has to be comfortable. Here in East Tennessee, f-ing everything is a hill. Even the hills have hills on them. I thought I had the only flat-enough place in my yard to turn, which is the one that I've forsaken. Luckily, I found another one. It also needs not to be too exposed. It's a bit uncomfortable turning in a spot that directly faces a road. I've been videotaped and photographed who knows how many times (vidoed twice, actually, but I don't know about the pictures) turning in a spot that directly faced my street at my old place, which wasn't even busy. It's okay to turn in a public place, but it's nicer when it's a bit more private. There are fewer distractions to contend with.
The real benefit of finding a good place to turn is that the location becomes significant, even though it really isn't. It's easy to become attached to that place, which of course is not so good except that it becomes a place that is almost sacred in a way, hallowed ground for the practitioner. Like other "sacred" spots, that allows that space to serve the main function of sanctity: reseting your mind to focus on the task at hand, which in this case is turning. If you turn anywhere and everywhere, good for you, but there's just something about having your spot to turn on that really makes you feel like it's time to get down to business doing just that one thing. Eventually, you'll have to let that place go, but that's alright too.
Here's how to go about finding a space and "claiming" it. First, take your time. Wander around the area you have to work with and take a look-see and see what you see. Does this place or that look good. Stand and turn around a little. How do things look now? Then go try a couple of other candidates if you can find any. Do the same thing. Then you can pick your favorite: the one that resonates with you and your personality best. Once you have that, you might want to turn on it right away for about three to five minutes. I did that today and immediately found that the place I picked wasn't as good as I thought. At first it seemed perfect, but as I got into turning, I could feel how lumpy the ground was there and that it was less level than I suspected. Moving over to my second choice turned out to be a great thing to do. Don't be afraid to move around a few inches or feet in any direction to find the best place in your little area. Little annoyances now will be big annoyances fifty miles around the never-ending bend. Once you've settled on a place that you're pretty sure you can be happy with, turn on it. Do it for a good while. If it's in grass, go until you've made a pretty good mark on the grass. Not only will that make you feel like you've accomplished something and get a decent turn in for you, it will also help to mark the spot so that next time you turn, you can find the same place much more easily and beat it into even better submission. That's like a feedback loop, and besides, the desire to go beat your circle into a beautifully formed sight is maybe that little bit of extra motivation that gets you turning for a half an hour more a week or so than you would have otherwise.
Once you've got a circle, you can get into your turning. Even if you don't have one, however, or if you want to follow the above guideline, you've got to start your turning somewhere. This next list of tips is really helpful for beginners as well as more experienced people that really want to focus their training and development.
Start Simple and Build Up
You don't have to dive directly into some esoteric, hard posture and turn with it. In fact, it's best if you don't. Start by feeling the natural curve of turning, trying to maintain your circle. When you feel good, put more attention in your legs and try to develop your stepping a little, making it more formal. When that feels good, add weight to your legs and try to sink. Do all of that before you even lift your hands from your side. That might be your first few weeks of turning practice, as a matter of fact. You want to get good at this, so you don't have to be in a hurry. Eventually, adopt a posture with your arms, but don't worry about strength or tension. Get used to the change in your body and alignment and slowly add strength over time. Eventually try to bring it all together. For a beginner, this might take six months. That's fine. For a more established practitioner, taking the time to redo this might revamp your attention to details you've been missing, so taking a week out of your normal routine turning to refine various aspects of it can have a major benefit on your practice.
Be Consistent
Turning a little every day is much more valuable than going all-out today and forgetting about it tomorrow and the next day. They say you need to turn for a while to really get development, but you don't have to turn for a long time to get skill and to stay connected to the practice. If you do it all in the same place (whenever possible) the building effect of this suggestion can have an even bigger impact. You might want to try to turn for an hour a day every day, and if you have it and the ability, good for you. If not, do what you can but try to make it a daily habit.
Do the Best You Can Do Today
You turned for an hour and a half yesterday and kept really solid focus and attention and did a great job with everything and were totally stoked about it and then today it pissed you off big time when you couldn't seem to get a clear head and your arms were as limp as dishrags? Cool, welcome to being normal. Your job is to do the very best you can with turning every time you turn, realizing fully that you're a different chick or dude every time you hit the circle. Some days, turning just works great. Some days, it's a chore. Some days, it sucks outright and hurts like hell. All days, do the best you can with what you've got that day.
Do Not Measure Your Performance Against Others
If your mom can turn for an hour and you can only turn for twenty minutes, don't get all mad at yourself or at your mom (n.b. your mom here is standing in for "someone else"). You should only measure your performance against yourself over time -- not even against "yesterday." Are you turning better than you were a month ago? Six months ago? Two years ago? (Are you even still turning after two years?!? If so, then freaking good for you!) As long as you're seeing improvement over time, then you're doing alright. If you're six or ten months down the road and not really improving, then you might need to soul-search and find out why. Maybe something's standing in your way? Maybe you're not putting as much into the practice as you should be? Maybe you're in a major rut for whatever reasons life might have thrown at you?
Do Not Base Your Turning on a Clock, a Number of Revolutions, or Some Other Crap that Isn't Worth a Damn
Yes, you can use those methods as a measuring stick or motivational tool, so don't throw them out, but realize they aren't the goal of the exercise. This is a statement of quality must outmatch quantity. If your body today only has ten good minutes in it, get those good ten minutes, push for a little while longer, and let that be how it is (always push a little past what you think is what is great and you'll get better over time... no stress = no improvement, usually). The real goal is improvement over time, not five hundred go-arounds. If you're more worried about a clock or number of revolutions than the quality of your turning, then your turning is going to be crap. If you're forcing the exercise, you're not doing it right. You should be pushing yourself, sure, but not forcing things to the point where the posture or stepping are failing.
Turn to Get Better at Turning
Do you remember my last post? If you do, then you know why you're turning (small scale): to get better at turning. Pay attention to details and requirements so that the goal is achieved. Like in the last point, if you don't get a really long time in, so what... as long as you feel like you honestly got better at turning or at least some aspect of the practice. This is where breaking the exercise down and rebuilding it from the ground up can really have a benefit even for established practitioners. Drop your hands sometimes and really check your legs out. Are you sinking right? Are you stepping correctly? Are you paying attention to all of the fine details of the footwork and body? Turn that way for a long time and see how things change over time. You might be surprised at what you need to work on. You can do the same thing adopting an easier hands-posture than Lion or one of the other animal postures (e.g. "lower posture," a beginner's/health-building posture). See what adding in the hands, even in an easier place, does to your feet. You might go through the whole process of adding your hands in to an animal posture loosely and then adding strength, spending some time in each place to see how it affects the whole. Refine, refine, refine! It's hard to pay attention to 100 things at once. You might also ignore the legs a little and focus on the upper body (but isn't that what we usually end up doing when we pretend we're training seriously anyway? ...no comment on my practice...). Eventually put it all back together and start paying attention to the more subtle requirements (if you know them). See what comes up! Most importantly, keep your head in this game!!!
Turn to Get Better at Baguazhang
Ah ha, now we've hit it: the real point of turning. Whatever your goals with Baguazhang are, they are enhanced by turning as long as your point in turning is to enhance your Baguazhang: be that as a martial art, a health-building practice, a moving meditation, or whatever-else-have-you. This has to underscore the entire practice because it is really the entire purpose for the practice of turning the circle: to get better at the art in which turning serves as a cornerstone. Keep that in the back of your mind while you turn and reflect on it while you wind-down afterwards. Ask yourself, out loud if you have to, "how did this benefit my bagua?" Try to find answers. If you don't have any, then you might need to break things down and look at the requirements all over again or listen more closely to the changes that should be taking place, slowly over time spent in a regular and dedicated turning practice, in your body and mind.
Saturday, July 18, 2009
A Testament to Incorrect
Since I've been back from London, I've been doing what little turning I've been doing in places other than on my increasingly famous circle, which is worn into my yard and has been consistently muddy since I got home. I got on it tonight after a long day of not doing much of training value and decided to put into action some of the things that I learned about turning while in London, particularly involving the role of the waist in the process. I quickly noticed that my circle, which takes about seven steps to get around, is too big.
I've never put the proper amount of emphasis into turning my legs using the waist, mostly because I don't think I had the faintest idea of how to do it. Now that I'm more able to do it, I am keenly aware of the fact that my circle is about a foot's width too large in diameter, a problem not particularly helped by the fact that while I was gone, the very vigorous grass in my yard seemed to encroach further than ever into the annulus that I've walked, suffering, so far upon... incorrectly, if only a little.
This is a reality of seriously training an art that requires constant refinement: over time patterns in our training may become quite evident and then become evidence of the mistakes that we've been making or the attention that we've been lacking. I have to admit, though, that I didn't really expect to find this lesson so palpably underfoot.
I've never put the proper amount of emphasis into turning my legs using the waist, mostly because I don't think I had the faintest idea of how to do it. Now that I'm more able to do it, I am keenly aware of the fact that my circle is about a foot's width too large in diameter, a problem not particularly helped by the fact that while I was gone, the very vigorous grass in my yard seemed to encroach further than ever into the annulus that I've walked, suffering, so far upon... incorrectly, if only a little.
This is a reality of seriously training an art that requires constant refinement: over time patterns in our training may become quite evident and then become evidence of the mistakes that we've been making or the attention that we've been lacking. I have to admit, though, that I didn't really expect to find this lesson so palpably underfoot.
Saturday, April 4, 2009
Keeping it Up
Two days in a row now have given me workouts that, though shorter than expected, brought me to the point of complete fatigue. I'm turning with my saber, and I'm turning without it. I'm doing strikes and forms and standing, and I'm tossing in body-weight resistance and some light weight training with dumbbells for overall fitness and increased strength, I'm stretching deeply with integrated massage and patting, and I'm doing daoyin (for the first time in my life pain-free in my back, though it hurts a little again now that I'm sitting down and cooled off). In this way goes my tribute to the China intensive, which isn't so intense surely as what my friends in the East are getting.
I'm not sure I'm pleased with my circle at the moment. The wreckage wrought to it earlier in the year by a truck on wet earth has been repaired with a shovel and about fifty pounds of sand, but now it feels a little bit like the beach even after a couple of good hard rains and a fair amount of walking on it. It's not the same feel that it used to have, but I might be quasi-paving it in the process, which is kind of cool. I hope that a few dozen more miles on it will pat it down and bring back the good feeling I had with it last summer. It feels all strange and awkward now, and as often as not (mostly because of the mud but partly because of the feel), I find myself turning indoors or on pavement instead, when my dissertation life provides me time to turn properly at all. I miss the days of feeling like I cheated myself if I hit fewer than five hours on the circle in a week. Right now, and probably until I graduate, I am lucky to get a third of that, most of the time I'd have spent strengthening my body being replaced by sitting in a chair that may be slowly debilitating me instead. I look forward to them being on the horizon again. Maybe by then my circle will feel more normal again, and I won't be adding my current last exercise to my list any longer: sweeping up the sand when I come in the house (because I keep forgetting that it's still on/in/all over/part of/inextricably linked to my shoes, which I lazily only take off sometimes and only rarely when I'm tired, sweating, and wanting something to drink.
I'm not sure I'm pleased with my circle at the moment. The wreckage wrought to it earlier in the year by a truck on wet earth has been repaired with a shovel and about fifty pounds of sand, but now it feels a little bit like the beach even after a couple of good hard rains and a fair amount of walking on it. It's not the same feel that it used to have, but I might be quasi-paving it in the process, which is kind of cool. I hope that a few dozen more miles on it will pat it down and bring back the good feeling I had with it last summer. It feels all strange and awkward now, and as often as not (mostly because of the mud but partly because of the feel), I find myself turning indoors or on pavement instead, when my dissertation life provides me time to turn properly at all. I miss the days of feeling like I cheated myself if I hit fewer than five hours on the circle in a week. Right now, and probably until I graduate, I am lucky to get a third of that, most of the time I'd have spent strengthening my body being replaced by sitting in a chair that may be slowly debilitating me instead. I look forward to them being on the horizon again. Maybe by then my circle will feel more normal again, and I won't be adding my current last exercise to my list any longer: sweeping up the sand when I come in the house (because I keep forgetting that it's still on/in/all over/part of/inextricably linked to my shoes, which I lazily only take off sometimes and only rarely when I'm tired, sweating, and wanting something to drink.
Monday, February 2, 2009
Snow Circle, Mark 2
It snowed again today. I took advantage to make a better snow circle, since it snowed (read: still is) harder today than last time, making a nicer picture for my winter-themed bagua hijinks.
An observant person will notice a few things: first that this picture is taken from the opposite side as the previous snow circle since the gash made by the truck is on the right now. It's hard to see that gash, but I stepped on it and slipped about four times in the twelve minutes I turned (the slipping got old, and painful). The truck left a rut through part of my circle that makes a sudden, sharp drop of a few inches, which when wet (seeing as our "soil" is clay) is very slippery/dangerous. Cuidado! Circulo mojado! Further, the twelve minutes will likely be called into question because of the smatterings of snow all over the circle (particularly on the left). Lo, it was snowing (hard) when I turned, and in the two minutes it took to grab my camera, the snow did some damage to my muddy rut. Here, in fact, is exactly (I timed it) five minutes later:
Even the quite unobservant can see here the mark of the tire, most damaging in the upper right (northeast corner) of my circle. Some of the contour is also visible along the entire eastern edge. Awesome. As of now, it looks like I never stood on it, save for a red-orange-brown spot in the northeast corner where the wet earth keeps bleeding that staining mud up into the still-falling snow.
The crazy part is... it was almost 70 F here yesterday. The sad part is that it might stop us from being able to get together to train tonight....
An observant person will notice a few things: first that this picture is taken from the opposite side as the previous snow circle since the gash made by the truck is on the right now. It's hard to see that gash, but I stepped on it and slipped about four times in the twelve minutes I turned (the slipping got old, and painful). The truck left a rut through part of my circle that makes a sudden, sharp drop of a few inches, which when wet (seeing as our "soil" is clay) is very slippery/dangerous. Cuidado! Circulo mojado! Further, the twelve minutes will likely be called into question because of the smatterings of snow all over the circle (particularly on the left). Lo, it was snowing (hard) when I turned, and in the two minutes it took to grab my camera, the snow did some damage to my muddy rut. Here, in fact, is exactly (I timed it) five minutes later:
Even the quite unobservant can see here the mark of the tire, most damaging in the upper right (northeast corner) of my circle. Some of the contour is also visible along the entire eastern edge. Awesome. As of now, it looks like I never stood on it, save for a red-orange-brown spot in the northeast corner where the wet earth keeps bleeding that staining mud up into the still-falling snow.
The crazy part is... it was almost 70 F here yesterday. The sad part is that it might stop us from being able to get together to train tonight....
Monday, January 19, 2009
Snow Circle
It's rare here, and the picture is ugly (no less because of the truck that ran over my circle last week and made it all warped and bumpy or for the uneven snowfall due to my circle being rather near a tree), but I can start my "a circle for all seasons" project with my first picture of a snow-circle. It's snowing here today with the snow actually sticking, which happens once or twice a year typically, usually with less snow than today, and so I took the opportunity to go turn in it, setting aside my dissertation for a bit while I toiled in the cold and wet. At the end, I took a picture of my circle. Here's the result:
The goofy left side is where the truck's massive-assive tires ran through it, leaving ruts that I've tried to pound down a little bit and wrecking some of the hard-earned symmetry of my circle. Still, I now have a snow-circle photo. I'll see about creating an album on here over the next year: a circle in all seasons. Maybe I'll follow through on that, and maybe I won't take time to take the pictures.
The goofy left side is where the truck's massive-assive tires ran through it, leaving ruts that I've tried to pound down a little bit and wrecking some of the hard-earned symmetry of my circle. Still, I now have a snow-circle photo. I'll see about creating an album on here over the next year: a circle in all seasons. Maybe I'll follow through on that, and maybe I won't take time to take the pictures.
Monday, January 12, 2009
Attachment and Change
All things change. That is a primary lesson of the Yijing and a primary (philosophical) lesson of bagua. As a result of this uncomfortable truth, attachment is to be let go of or never formed, which is an easier feat to accomplish academically than in reality, like so many other things. Today, fortune has brought to me a change and the opportunity to feel an attachment in a real way, and so I should be grateful. I think I'm sad, though.
We have a couple of trees in our yard that have needed to come down for a while... these not accessible to my sawing powers. In fact, the one I sawed down last summer by hand has decided to mutiny and is growing back as a vibrant and eager bush, so that needs dealing with too. That brought the tree people. Money convinced them to take the trees down. Doing that job the way they do things led to the destruction of something I am apparently quite attached to.
This story doesn't start properly with trees, though. It's starts with rain, lots of rain. It has rained here at least five out of seven days for a month, usually hard. Late last week, for instance, it varied between raining steadily and pouring heavily for around thirty hours straight, followed by some drizzle for half a day and more rain that next night. The river, viewed on my drive to work, which is lowered (via the dams) in the winter was full to its banks. It's rained so much that despite the years-long drought we've been suffering, almost everyone I know wishes it would just stop raining. Rain has consequences less dire than flooding, which due to our mountainish terrain hasn't been a serious problem for the most part. One of those consequences is mud.
I've talked about mud before and how mud ruins my circle. It becomes slippery and dangerous to walk on, besides being an utter mess, our soil being essentially 121% red clay. As everyone knows, clay of any sort, when it gets wet, gets soft and pliant. Pliant enough so that when a big, heavy truck drives across your well-tended, hard-earned circle, it FUCKS IT UP BIG TIME.
So that's that... the circle is in bumpy ruins with tire-tracks all through. What can be done? Dunno... I probably should turn more and think about it.
We have a couple of trees in our yard that have needed to come down for a while... these not accessible to my sawing powers. In fact, the one I sawed down last summer by hand has decided to mutiny and is growing back as a vibrant and eager bush, so that needs dealing with too. That brought the tree people. Money convinced them to take the trees down. Doing that job the way they do things led to the destruction of something I am apparently quite attached to.
This story doesn't start properly with trees, though. It's starts with rain, lots of rain. It has rained here at least five out of seven days for a month, usually hard. Late last week, for instance, it varied between raining steadily and pouring heavily for around thirty hours straight, followed by some drizzle for half a day and more rain that next night. The river, viewed on my drive to work, which is lowered (via the dams) in the winter was full to its banks. It's rained so much that despite the years-long drought we've been suffering, almost everyone I know wishes it would just stop raining. Rain has consequences less dire than flooding, which due to our mountainish terrain hasn't been a serious problem for the most part. One of those consequences is mud.
I've talked about mud before and how mud ruins my circle. It becomes slippery and dangerous to walk on, besides being an utter mess, our soil being essentially 121% red clay. As everyone knows, clay of any sort, when it gets wet, gets soft and pliant. Pliant enough so that when a big, heavy truck drives across your well-tended, hard-earned circle, it FUCKS IT UP BIG TIME.
So that's that... the circle is in bumpy ruins with tire-tracks all through. What can be done? Dunno... I probably should turn more and think about it.
Saturday, December 27, 2008
Holidays
The holidays are a difficult season to get training in, so this is a post not so much about amazing dedication as about squeezing a few drops out of what moments we have. In the two weeks, we've had a nearly constant stream of visitors from afar visiting us, one coming in essentially on the day that the last are leaving, and entertaining, maintaining a semblance of a working life, and all of the holiday hustle and bustle have combined nicely to make it seem like every moment that could be set aside for training is filled with something else. I even have some kindly shared notes on ideas for training when time is severely limited, and blocks of time to get through those exercises are as rare as blocks of time for proper training.
What have I done? To avoid being "weird" in front of company, almost every time I turn a corner to go into the other room, there is some form of a stepping drill or small changing drill applied with my hands and arms, and more importantly with my mind. Stepping is a particular favorite, in fact, at the moment. Every time I get the chance, I practice some form of exercise, particularly ones to build and maintain flexibility and strength, for whatever small number of minutes is provided to me. Every night as I go to sleep, I vividly envision practicing techniques in as as varied a way as I can imagine and try to create a real, tactile sensation of those practices and how they would feel "in action." It's been a two-week period of stealing minutes and seconds and making of them what I've been able to.
While I had hoped my brother coming into town for the holidays would provide an increase in my access to a training partner, as it has in the past, it starkly has not this time around. He spread himself, in my opinion, too thin socially, and so the amount of "company" around us when with him is even higher, when he's even around. I don't go out, and he goes out almost daily, so that didn't work out the way I had hoped. As I've said before... one of these days.
Today was nice. I was able to steal a block of time long enough to work up a good sweat with some basic drills, a few hundred strikes, and almost fifteen solid minutes (!!!) on the circle. I'm looking forward to getting back to my long-turning days, though I don't know when they'll be. I'm stealing minutes not just for training, as I said, but also for work, which is in a vastly more intense phase right now than before. Since I think it may be the case now, I think I've just found a couple more minutes to steal, so a few intensely intent-filled runs through some forms is apropos. Hopefully everyone else's holidays have been good to them in terms of the usual meaning as well as finding chances to find training!
What have I done? To avoid being "weird" in front of company, almost every time I turn a corner to go into the other room, there is some form of a stepping drill or small changing drill applied with my hands and arms, and more importantly with my mind. Stepping is a particular favorite, in fact, at the moment. Every time I get the chance, I practice some form of exercise, particularly ones to build and maintain flexibility and strength, for whatever small number of minutes is provided to me. Every night as I go to sleep, I vividly envision practicing techniques in as as varied a way as I can imagine and try to create a real, tactile sensation of those practices and how they would feel "in action." It's been a two-week period of stealing minutes and seconds and making of them what I've been able to.
While I had hoped my brother coming into town for the holidays would provide an increase in my access to a training partner, as it has in the past, it starkly has not this time around. He spread himself, in my opinion, too thin socially, and so the amount of "company" around us when with him is even higher, when he's even around. I don't go out, and he goes out almost daily, so that didn't work out the way I had hoped. As I've said before... one of these days.
Today was nice. I was able to steal a block of time long enough to work up a good sweat with some basic drills, a few hundred strikes, and almost fifteen solid minutes (!!!) on the circle. I'm looking forward to getting back to my long-turning days, though I don't know when they'll be. I'm stealing minutes not just for training, as I said, but also for work, which is in a vastly more intense phase right now than before. Since I think it may be the case now, I think I've just found a couple more minutes to steal, so a few intensely intent-filled runs through some forms is apropos. Hopefully everyone else's holidays have been good to them in terms of the usual meaning as well as finding chances to find training!
Thursday, November 13, 2008
Worldwide Readership and No Time to Post
I've been meaning and wanting to post for a while, but finishing (please, please let it be true) a Ph.D. sucks sometimes. My teaching (read: grading) load has been abnormally intense lately too, so it comes down, frequently enough, to get in 30-60 minutes of training or type on here for a few minutes. I think it's fairly obvious which I've been choosing and why. I wish I could include a sweet example of the kind of crap I spend my days doing, but it's apparently a bad idea to publicly display any of one's thesis before it's done. Besides, I'm not sure how to load up the sweet math text into this thing anyway without pulling some screen-shot business. I'm digressing.
My newest bit of research into the art has been going well and is very interesting, at least to me. The thing is, I don't know if it's a good idea to be doing or not, but as I seem to be deriving benefit from it and am keeping it in its proper context, I don't think it will do any harm. I've been studying the forms, actually just two of them in-depth, and running through them while turning for nearly my entire practice time (30-60 minutes, usually) other than a few minutes at the beginning when I do a little static posturing. I also, of course, have a background-noise level of studying the basic strikes, popping out a few and trying to use what little mind I have while I do them, maybe for a minute or two here or there while someone else needs to use this box, preventing me from typing for a bit. In any case, I'm digressing again, which is what makes my writing so much fun to read.
After I do the form, with power, a few times, I'm investigating the techniques in it, including many of the transition techniques, sometimes on more than one level (different stages in the transition) by freezing and holding them in isometric tension as a static posture. I force myself to connect with the ground in a stable manner and feel all of the places I'm supposed to be applying force along with trying to recreate the sensation of an opponent being there to receive and be affected by that force. I then hold the position for 3-5 breaths and move on, slowly. Each time something significant happens, I try to hold that position and feel it and increase my strength and awareness of my strength in those positions.
For example, in Lifting and Holding from the Sweeping Palm, the first technique is the opener, so I hold that with strength, trying to imagine clearly that particular use of what is, in essence, an opening sweeping/rising sweeping strike. The "second" technique doesn't occur, though, until a bunch of things happen in transition. First, the opening hand changes, pushing forward and threatening while lifting the opponent's arm. I pause there and try to feel all of that clearly. Then the foot opens and the other arm comes in, lifting with the elbow. I pause there too. Then I execute the remainder of the transition into the "second" technique, sometimes pausing yet again at the point where I could conceive of my leg making contact or my hand/forearm of the top arm reaching the opponent's face, neck, or shoulders. Wherever I pause, I spend time and effort to apply the appropriate strengths and to imagine feeling and visualizing the effects.
Remarkably, I think it's helping develop my usage and development of power in the forms, particularly in that it seems to be really enhancing my ability to find out what I'm not doing well enough or fully enough and refine it. Usually I'll repeat the slow business once or twice to each side before going back to practicing the form in its usual, much more mobile design, trying to keep attention on all that I had put attention on by being slow and deliberate.
So, now I feel better that I've said something on here again. Now I can go back, I guess, to typing up things I don't really like typing up so that eventually I don't have to type it up at all any more and can turn my nose back to training much more seriously!
My newest bit of research into the art has been going well and is very interesting, at least to me. The thing is, I don't know if it's a good idea to be doing or not, but as I seem to be deriving benefit from it and am keeping it in its proper context, I don't think it will do any harm. I've been studying the forms, actually just two of them in-depth, and running through them while turning for nearly my entire practice time (30-60 minutes, usually) other than a few minutes at the beginning when I do a little static posturing. I also, of course, have a background-noise level of studying the basic strikes, popping out a few and trying to use what little mind I have while I do them, maybe for a minute or two here or there while someone else needs to use this box, preventing me from typing for a bit. In any case, I'm digressing again, which is what makes my writing so much fun to read.
After I do the form, with power, a few times, I'm investigating the techniques in it, including many of the transition techniques, sometimes on more than one level (different stages in the transition) by freezing and holding them in isometric tension as a static posture. I force myself to connect with the ground in a stable manner and feel all of the places I'm supposed to be applying force along with trying to recreate the sensation of an opponent being there to receive and be affected by that force. I then hold the position for 3-5 breaths and move on, slowly. Each time something significant happens, I try to hold that position and feel it and increase my strength and awareness of my strength in those positions.
For example, in Lifting and Holding from the Sweeping Palm, the first technique is the opener, so I hold that with strength, trying to imagine clearly that particular use of what is, in essence, an opening sweeping/rising sweeping strike. The "second" technique doesn't occur, though, until a bunch of things happen in transition. First, the opening hand changes, pushing forward and threatening while lifting the opponent's arm. I pause there and try to feel all of that clearly. Then the foot opens and the other arm comes in, lifting with the elbow. I pause there too. Then I execute the remainder of the transition into the "second" technique, sometimes pausing yet again at the point where I could conceive of my leg making contact or my hand/forearm of the top arm reaching the opponent's face, neck, or shoulders. Wherever I pause, I spend time and effort to apply the appropriate strengths and to imagine feeling and visualizing the effects.
Remarkably, I think it's helping develop my usage and development of power in the forms, particularly in that it seems to be really enhancing my ability to find out what I'm not doing well enough or fully enough and refine it. Usually I'll repeat the slow business once or twice to each side before going back to practicing the form in its usual, much more mobile design, trying to keep attention on all that I had put attention on by being slow and deliberate.
So, now I feel better that I've said something on here again. Now I can go back, I guess, to typing up things I don't really like typing up so that eventually I don't have to type it up at all any more and can turn my nose back to training much more seriously!
Monday, September 22, 2008
A Study in Itself
A few words that Matt Bild passed on to us in Vermont, almost as an aside, have really stuck with me and will probably shape my training for the next few months or years in a significant way. He said, simply enough, "the sweeping strikes are a study in themselves." When I heard it, I was pounding out sweeping strikes, trying to pay attention to four or six (or more) requirements I hadn't previously been aware of, trying to integrate them into my training, trying to understand their importance as well as develop the coordination required to modify that which I had done tens of thousands of times without those nuances (actually, they were bigger than nuances in a few cases). It wasn't until later that the significance of those words started to sink in and mesh with other ideas I've had, some that I've held pretty close to my chest up until now. I'm thankful my memory retained them despite the ferocity with which I was putting my body through the paces.
By extension, each of the striking methods in the Lion System as well as the other animal systems, which share a lot of techniques with each other since Yin Style Bagua is so well-knit, is also a study in itself, meaning that makes for at least sixty-four intense studies just on basic striking methods. I yearn to develop understanding of at least those in the Lion System in the coming year(s). There's more than that, though. Sixty-four interrelated studies would be easy compared with the complexity of baguazhang. There are also the themes of the individual animals and how they play a role, making for eight larger studies. There are also the forms, which appear again and again: interlocking, moving with the force, turning the back, lifting and holding (ping tua), windmill, lying step, reversing the body, and enfolding. In each system, seven of those attacking methods is addressed, and each of those methods must also be a study in itself. That's a lot of studying! Each form plays a different role slightly depending on which attacking method is being employed, but underneath the attacking methods is part of the theme of the form. Each form plays a different role within each animal system (I've deduced from what Matt said about moving with the force in the Lion System having a particular character that I didn't expect or realize), and yet within each is another part of the theme of that particular form. That's a LOT of studies unto themselves, many or all of which deserve and need attention in their due course if these methods are to be understood.
Honestly, as a quick aside, it reminds me of learning karate a long time ago. I realized at some point that you have to learn to use your upper body independently of your lower body so you could strike while moving and so that you could avoid telegraphing your techniques with your stepping. I also noted that your lower body had to be able to move independently of your upper body so that you could kick or move without giving away what was about to happen or so that you could keep your balance in awkward situations that might involve twisting, turning, kicking, fading away, jumping, or being pushed. Later, I realized that developing those independent skills was the very beginning, as long as it might take, because eventually the upper and lower body would have to work in harmony, using those individual skills as needed but more by applying their lessons to total-body movement and usage. It's like that in bagua but a thousand times more intricate.
One thing I had intended to start, probably shortly, is an in-depth study of the forms, using one attacking method at a time and studying each of the striking methods within that form. That would give, within the Lion System and its theme at least, eight perspectives on the idea of, for example, the moving with the force attacking method. I was excited and hoped to be able to investigate these things deeply enough to get through at most four of the methods in this manner over the next year. Then, I hoped, I'd have a better understanding of what those four attacking methods were about, and my bagua would benefit greatly from it. Now, I'm a bit confused as to what to approach because I never had thought clearly that the striking methods themselves are also each their own study! My head is filled with ideas, and I haven't invented a way to combine them yet.
For instance, I'd like very much to spend a few weeks or a month just working hard on the sweeping strikes to see what kind of lessons I can glean from training them in a dedicated manner. To do that, I've already realized, it is very helpful to learn all of the sweeping forms in the system because it gives eight perspectives on how to use them (the basics, characteristic of Lion, and the seven other animals-derived forms, characteristic of the Lion borrowing ideas from the other systems). That's contrary to my plan to study "moving with the force," e.g., purely for a month or two. I could blend the two endeavors, of course, studying all seven forms of a palm at the appropriate time along with focusing on those strikes and then the other seven forms of a particular attacking method, but that seems to be a lot more than life will afford me time to work on! I'm betting that concentrating on one or two things at a time is better than trying to do everything at the same time, so I'll probably hybridize but pick one road or the other to really drill. The basic striking methods seem more fundamental, so they probably should come first. Still, I was really excited about my study of the forms, so I'm torn.
For now, I'm caught in a quandary on which road to follow because I feel like they're a bit exclusive for someone with a non-bagua life to live as well. Thus, for the moment, I've only been reviewing that which we did in Vermont on a daily basis, though not nearly as hard as we did there (I'm quite thankful to be able to use things like my legs normally again too). I've also put the turning back on, but I've noticed that my (redneck-style improvised) saber drills are cutting deeply into my ability to rock out the Lion posture on the circle like I could two weeks ago.
This is one of the best parts of baguazhang. The study is too complicated and deep to ever get stagnant or boring. There is always and will always be so much to study and train.
By extension, each of the striking methods in the Lion System as well as the other animal systems, which share a lot of techniques with each other since Yin Style Bagua is so well-knit, is also a study in itself, meaning that makes for at least sixty-four intense studies just on basic striking methods. I yearn to develop understanding of at least those in the Lion System in the coming year(s). There's more than that, though. Sixty-four interrelated studies would be easy compared with the complexity of baguazhang. There are also the themes of the individual animals and how they play a role, making for eight larger studies. There are also the forms, which appear again and again: interlocking, moving with the force, turning the back, lifting and holding (ping tua), windmill, lying step, reversing the body, and enfolding. In each system, seven of those attacking methods is addressed, and each of those methods must also be a study in itself. That's a lot of studying! Each form plays a different role slightly depending on which attacking method is being employed, but underneath the attacking methods is part of the theme of the form. Each form plays a different role within each animal system (I've deduced from what Matt said about moving with the force in the Lion System having a particular character that I didn't expect or realize), and yet within each is another part of the theme of that particular form. That's a LOT of studies unto themselves, many or all of which deserve and need attention in their due course if these methods are to be understood.
Honestly, as a quick aside, it reminds me of learning karate a long time ago. I realized at some point that you have to learn to use your upper body independently of your lower body so you could strike while moving and so that you could avoid telegraphing your techniques with your stepping. I also noted that your lower body had to be able to move independently of your upper body so that you could kick or move without giving away what was about to happen or so that you could keep your balance in awkward situations that might involve twisting, turning, kicking, fading away, jumping, or being pushed. Later, I realized that developing those independent skills was the very beginning, as long as it might take, because eventually the upper and lower body would have to work in harmony, using those individual skills as needed but more by applying their lessons to total-body movement and usage. It's like that in bagua but a thousand times more intricate.
One thing I had intended to start, probably shortly, is an in-depth study of the forms, using one attacking method at a time and studying each of the striking methods within that form. That would give, within the Lion System and its theme at least, eight perspectives on the idea of, for example, the moving with the force attacking method. I was excited and hoped to be able to investigate these things deeply enough to get through at most four of the methods in this manner over the next year. Then, I hoped, I'd have a better understanding of what those four attacking methods were about, and my bagua would benefit greatly from it. Now, I'm a bit confused as to what to approach because I never had thought clearly that the striking methods themselves are also each their own study! My head is filled with ideas, and I haven't invented a way to combine them yet.
For instance, I'd like very much to spend a few weeks or a month just working hard on the sweeping strikes to see what kind of lessons I can glean from training them in a dedicated manner. To do that, I've already realized, it is very helpful to learn all of the sweeping forms in the system because it gives eight perspectives on how to use them (the basics, characteristic of Lion, and the seven other animals-derived forms, characteristic of the Lion borrowing ideas from the other systems). That's contrary to my plan to study "moving with the force," e.g., purely for a month or two. I could blend the two endeavors, of course, studying all seven forms of a palm at the appropriate time along with focusing on those strikes and then the other seven forms of a particular attacking method, but that seems to be a lot more than life will afford me time to work on! I'm betting that concentrating on one or two things at a time is better than trying to do everything at the same time, so I'll probably hybridize but pick one road or the other to really drill. The basic striking methods seem more fundamental, so they probably should come first. Still, I was really excited about my study of the forms, so I'm torn.
For now, I'm caught in a quandary on which road to follow because I feel like they're a bit exclusive for someone with a non-bagua life to live as well. Thus, for the moment, I've only been reviewing that which we did in Vermont on a daily basis, though not nearly as hard as we did there (I'm quite thankful to be able to use things like my legs normally again too). I've also put the turning back on, but I've noticed that my (redneck-style improvised) saber drills are cutting deeply into my ability to rock out the Lion posture on the circle like I could two weeks ago.
This is one of the best parts of baguazhang. The study is too complicated and deep to ever get stagnant or boring. There is always and will always be so much to study and train.
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