As I've posted several times in the past, my lower back has been something of an issue in my training and life for as long as I've been practicing YSB, and actually even for longer. For all of this time, I had hoped that baguazhang would heal my lower back issue, finally freeing me from the grip it had on me. Partly from doing many of the basic exercises incorrectly, which I attributed the continuance of my discomfort to for a long time, my back pain neither abated nor got significantly worse over the almost two and a half years I've been training. Finally, I think I'm ready to admit that the practice of baguazhang directly will probably not heal my back, although once it is healed (through other means), it will almost definitely strengthen, protect, preserve, and improve it. Admitting it means that I can choose a sensible course of action and follow it, and, unfortunately enough, it will require that I set aside a fair amount of my preciously sparse training time (during the more intense end of the semester and my quest for doctorate) to do so.
There are exercises in bagua that I believe would (help) heal me, and those are definitely going to be included, but they are basic, basic exercises. For instance, I've seen an exercise from the Lion System (holding/rolling the ball), another from the Bear, one from the Snake, and one from the Phoenix System that all help, but doing basic strikes and forms, and even the standing postures, are of limited benefit and potential detriment if I overdo them. What this has meant, after hearing the description of what those exercises are traditionally used for (preparing unprepared bodies for practicing bagua properly), is admitting to myself that physiologically, I have not been prepared to properly study bagua all along, and most of bagua's practices are too physically demanding for my injured, weakened frame.
A fact that set this notion more firmly into my thinking was reading recently that many times in baguazhang or xingyi, a practitioner with a chronic health complaint, particularly hips, knees, back, or shoulder problems, would frequently be given the prescription of studying taijiquan or receiving massage and qigong therapy for a while before being permitted to work on anything but the most basic exercises of the art. This information served me by showing me that it was typical to need to prepare the body correctly before taking on something as demanding as one of these arts, and therefore that the basic exercises in the art might be too tough on the body to create healing in and of themselves in certain situations. That rang true with the fact that frequently, I feel about the same before and after practice in my low back and hips and feel exceptionally better everywhere else. It also left me with wondering what to do next.
Luckily, it seems, I watched my wife heal herself tremendously of a chronic sciatica issue using a version of yoga that actually has Taoist roots, like bagua. Combining that with yoga and sensible stretching practices, approaching them from an experiential, need-based perspective, gave me a practice that I really believed could help fix the root of the problem I suffer. I started it about a week ago, putting serious effort into this yoga/stretching regimen combined with some basic massage therapy on trouble spots (see an earlier post about trigger points), some basic standing, sitting, and prone qigong, and the small number of very basic bagua healing/developing practices (mentioned above), practicing them for 30-60 minutes a day when I usually have very little more time for practice or training available to me (I'll pay tonight for taking out this time to type this up, for instance). In six days, which is tiny compared with the almost eight years I've been suffering this way, I've seen more progress than I expected, though I am not, of course, healed. I hit the point recently that really told me I had to do something, and it's one of the measuring sticks I've been using: I can't jump. Jumping or even bouncing causes severe spasming or failing (it feels like mistrust) in my lower back -- immediately. I also cannot run or jog. That's disturbing because I'm still in my 20's, in good shape otherwise, and should definitely be able to participate in these kinds of activities as ones that build me, not break me. In six days, I've changed enough to where I can do some bouncing around (jumping jacks, for instance) again, I move and stand more freely, and I'm only about half as stiff when I get out of bed in the morning, though it's apparent that the problem still exists. I'm getting measurably better. As the problem has lasted for 8 years or more, I figure that in roughly 8 weeks or so, I will have seen a tremendous change, if I stick with it. If I stay with it to whatever degree is needed for 8 months, I'd be surprised to see anything other than a full recovery.
It's made me immediately aware, for instance, of the tension stored primarily in my lower abdominal muscles, hips, spinal erectors, and quadriceps muscles, tension that prevents me from developing properly in bagua and that keeps me in the prison of constant physical pain and limitation. It's also taught me the exceptionally useful lesson that the body and training must be practiced intelligently with inner sensitivity and that emotional and physical habits create powerful chains that bind us needlessly. It's also made me take responsibility for my condition, no longer wanting to rely on some chiropractor, osteopath, magician, or mysterious energetic miracle to heal me. Ignoring my tissues and mistreating them, be that via an injury or two that I sustained and never healed properly or via training on structure that wasn't ready to train on, have created and maintained this problem entirely at my own fault and decision.
Treating it before, at least for a year now, has centered on the idea that I needed to stretch, going into the tissues mentally and experientially as I did so to release the problems, and I even knew many of the stretches that would be required. Still, I refused to set aside time from my work or training to do it, and things have only gotten worse. Now, I'm ready to admit that this is part of my training, part of what I must do at my level, or else I'll never get to a very high level overall being always limited by this ceiling that I've put over myself. That gives me spirit enough to concentrate on these efforts without the guilt that might normally come from laying in some stretch on the floor instead of walking those extra few minutes around in a circle in my yard, particularly knowing that if I'm as right as I'm almost sure I am about this, I'll be able to more than make up for lost time once I'm whole again.
Yin Style Baguazhang is a difficult art to learn and study, and this fact is particularly true when following the methods of the Lion System. Here is a modest record of my attempts which hopefully illustrate perseverance and dedication amid the demands of a busy, modern life.
About Yin Style
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
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!
Tuesday, October 28, 2008
Interesting Reaction
I was at the university yesterday and ended up in a chance encounter with a Chinese colleague in which the topics of learning Chinese and traveling to China came up. I admitted to him that I strongly want to visit China and that next April would probably be one of my best chances for a while unless I get into a different line of work entirely because I always have to teach without the opportunity to take a couple or three weeks off in April. He asked, of course, what university I wanted to travel to in which city in China with the recommendation that if I had a sufficient *mathematical* reason, I could probably get leave from the department to do it. I told him I wanted to go to Beijing, but that there was no university I intended to visit and no mathematical collaboration would be on the agenda. That made him ask what would make me want to go to China, then.
I told him that I train in baguazhang, and his reaction was surprising. He stopped, almost about to say something but cutting himself off, and stood there for a moment. Then he said, "baguazhang?!" and wrote the three Chinese characters for it on the chalkboard next to us. I nodded, indicating that was exactly what I had meant, and he paused again before adding two exclamation points (!!) after his characters and saying, "Ohh... that's good martial arts." Though not exactly the same, the flavor of the exchange was similar to how I think I would probably have reacted to find out that some dude I was chatting with happened to play previously in the NFL, being that I don't really give a crap about football but can really appreciate what that means. I was pretty surprised to see his reaction.
Incidentally, I just found out from work that my 2009 China hopes are not to come to fruition. I've been scheduled, with an approved teaching overload, to teach this coming spring as "my skills and experience shouldn't be wasted." Ah, well, at least I'm appreciated. In any case, there won't be taking two or more weeks off this spring.
I told him that I train in baguazhang, and his reaction was surprising. He stopped, almost about to say something but cutting himself off, and stood there for a moment. Then he said, "baguazhang?!" and wrote the three Chinese characters for it on the chalkboard next to us. I nodded, indicating that was exactly what I had meant, and he paused again before adding two exclamation points (!!) after his characters and saying, "Ohh... that's good martial arts." Though not exactly the same, the flavor of the exchange was similar to how I think I would probably have reacted to find out that some dude I was chatting with happened to play previously in the NFL, being that I don't really give a crap about football but can really appreciate what that means. I was pretty surprised to see his reaction.
Incidentally, I just found out from work that my 2009 China hopes are not to come to fruition. I've been scheduled, with an approved teaching overload, to teach this coming spring as "my skills and experience shouldn't be wasted." Ah, well, at least I'm appreciated. In any case, there won't be taking two or more weeks off this spring.
Sunday, October 26, 2008
One and a Quarter Pounds
Thanks to a friend of mine, who happened to call my proxy saber "cool," I now have a sweet 1.25-pound weight added to it, right behind the five pounds I had already placed there. I didn't do much with it but feel the extra weight yesterday, when I took it apart, smashed my finger somehow, and put it back together with the extra weight, because I had already done a decent saber-related workout and didn't feel like over-cooking it. Today, though, I went to feel it in a variety of drills, and I was pretty shocked. It was a LOT heavier....
The thing is that I don't know if it's too heavy now or not. It certainly felt too light with just five pounds on it, but not when I first put it together. With just five, at first, I was surprised about how close it seemed to the real thing, and that was almost immediately after getting back from working with a real thing. I was pretty sure it was too light from some fluke accident of hearing something along the lines of that the real dadao weighs close to eight pounds (or just over). In any case, I've developed with it a little since then, and I got to where I could move it around with the five pounds that were on it with some degree of grace, though certainly not ease, and even the grace was failing in several of the basic drills. The lack of grace, I'm starting to realize, has something to do with the distribution of weight being very different when all of the weight I've added is in one place (near the balance point of a saber proper) versus more spread out through the steel of the saber.
I can't tell with any certainty now, though, if the thing felt right before and I was getting better at using it, hence the difference I feel now is truly that my proxy is too heavy or if, instead, the thing was too light before and the difference I feel now is just the difference, be my proxy too light or too heavy (theoretically, by my remembering, it's still too light). When I went to worth with it this afternoon with the additional pound and a quarter, I was very surprised as to how much harder the drills seemed. I haven't really been counting too much, just going until my form totally sucks and then quitting, and since I worked out pretty hard with it yesterday, I don't know that it would have mattered much because I might have residual soreness from then that would make it so I could only do fewer today anyway.
In any case, it's incredible the difference that a pound and a quarter can make. I'm somewhat eager to find out the true weight of a saber to be absolutely sure of that, and if I'm still too light, I'll probably go straight to adjusting that and learning to swallow whatever bitter comes along with.
The thing is that I don't know if it's too heavy now or not. It certainly felt too light with just five pounds on it, but not when I first put it together. With just five, at first, I was surprised about how close it seemed to the real thing, and that was almost immediately after getting back from working with a real thing. I was pretty sure it was too light from some fluke accident of hearing something along the lines of that the real dadao weighs close to eight pounds (or just over). In any case, I've developed with it a little since then, and I got to where I could move it around with the five pounds that were on it with some degree of grace, though certainly not ease, and even the grace was failing in several of the basic drills. The lack of grace, I'm starting to realize, has something to do with the distribution of weight being very different when all of the weight I've added is in one place (near the balance point of a saber proper) versus more spread out through the steel of the saber.
I can't tell with any certainty now, though, if the thing felt right before and I was getting better at using it, hence the difference I feel now is truly that my proxy is too heavy or if, instead, the thing was too light before and the difference I feel now is just the difference, be my proxy too light or too heavy (theoretically, by my remembering, it's still too light). When I went to worth with it this afternoon with the additional pound and a quarter, I was very surprised as to how much harder the drills seemed. I haven't really been counting too much, just going until my form totally sucks and then quitting, and since I worked out pretty hard with it yesterday, I don't know that it would have mattered much because I might have residual soreness from then that would make it so I could only do fewer today anyway.
In any case, it's incredible the difference that a pound and a quarter can make. I'm somewhat eager to find out the true weight of a saber to be absolutely sure of that, and if I'm still too light, I'll probably go straight to adjusting that and learning to swallow whatever bitter comes along with.
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
Hammers, Hatchets, and Triggers
For the past two weeks, I've barely been able to train, which sucks. I noted that I was suffering from what started out seeming like a mild low-back-pain episode but which actually manifested as being just about the most long-lived one that I've had. It was never exceptionally severe as it has been in the past, but it never got much better either, which was frustrating and, obviously, uncomfortable and limiting. I'm *mostly* better now, 18 days after the day when it all went to pieces, though long-period turning sessions (more than 20 minutes at a time), most vigorous static posture practice, and many of the strikes are still right out of my ability set -- stuff starts cramping. It's strange, sad, and motivating. I want to train. I want to live without this for the first time in about a decade. I'm going to have to fix it.
The other night I was looking into the matter further, reading up on it via a slough of articles hunted down off of the internet with no real way to know for sure what was accurate and what wasn't among what I studied, and I found a bizarre article that talked a lot about trigger points in the sacroiliac region. I thought there might be something to it after seeing where this guy got his ideas and how he's used them. I poked around in my psoas muscles, which I'd already been stretching intensely from as soon as I was able to get into the positions, and instead of feeling what I expected (muscles, most likely tight ones), I felt what the author was talking about: trigger points, dozens of them. Probably scores, actually, were in there. It felt quite a bit like a sack of pellets stuffed very tightly, in fact. Immediately, I climbed in bed and started working them out even though it was far later than I usually like to stay up now, but I fell asleep after an hour and a half or so in my right side and had barely touched my left. I woke up the next morning and went directly back to it, working a little in my left but almost entirely in my right, again going for more than an hour, and when I went to stand, I felt several times better than I had all along in the preceding weeks, even after chiropractic. My psoas muscles also felt remarkably different. In the days since, I've worked more into those (the article said it might take two weeks to two months to work all of them out of the pelvis, depending on how bad it is in there) and made significant progress. I've also explored around and found trigger points in the other hip muscles, lower abdominals, and some into the low-back region, though it's HARD to reach and work on. My hands are quite sore, having dug deeply into my flesh to push out knots of tension for about 5-6 hours in the last three and a half days, but I'm feeling almost better than I usually do (generally better than usual, though there's still a stiff spot that isn't usually there). That keeps me going; well, that and the idea that my hands are going to be very, very strong from this. I think that this combined with stretching and a little chiropractic will actually heal me as opposed to just keeping me at a barely acceptable status quo (which is where mediocre attempts at stretching and some chiropractic was keeping me).
Interesting little things come up, like sudden releases of a tiny knot, no bigger than a grain of rice, followed by an intense sensation like hot water flooding down and spreading out through the inside of my leg. That comes up a lot. Relief usually follows. I'm having very bizarre dreams, which the author suggested might come up since his belief is that trigger points are primarily "stored-up fear-based emotions." When you release the point, apparently, the emotion starts working its way out. Hence, I rub into these painful little areas with a mantra of "am I willing to let this go?" Sometimes it seems to help. Sometimes it doesn't do much. Maybe that's my subconscious answering yes and no, respectively. Maybe it has nothing to do with it. I like it, though, so I'm keeping it up. As a weird side-effect, I'm in a wholly better mood than I have been in over the last four to five years (length of Ph.D. program?).
In any event, Sunday, the first day I was feeling much, much better, running around with a bit of a gleam in my eyes, I went to the store to get some duct tape to finish off my Proxy Saber, v. 2, which is superior in nearly every way to the original by following Ket's design. While there, since I have some yard work to do that requires a hatchet that I don't own yet, I went to look at the hatchets. Some I liked but wasn't willing to pay so much for, and some I didn't despite their bargain price. Eventually I was holding one, feeling its weight and balance, trying to decide if the price for it was right when all of a sudden three teenagers dressed in a vaguely counter-culture way came into the aisle. One was smaller, maybe 115 pounds, and a young man. One was bigger and clearly not as sharp or at least less of a leader but probably no older, maybe 15 or so. The third was a girl that was running around with them, skinny and frail looking with a falsely tough exterior. The smaller guy stood a few feet from me and picked up a eight- or ten-ounce ball hammer off the rack and eyed it for a minute, bouncing it a little in his hand to get used to the weight. Then he turned to me and said the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard, particularly seeing as I was still holding the hatchet and bigger than him by at least 50-60 pounds and almost a foot of height: "Hey mister, have you ever been hit in the head with a ball-peen hammer, and would you like to experience it?"
I would love to know what the kid was thinking when he said that. I'm guessing that he was trying to be funny, which he, of course, failed at. I turned to face him, still holding the hatchet, and grinned at him, almost looking excited, and said, "you wanna go?"
He looked like he was going to soil his pants in response and then tried to play it off all nonchalantly: "Nah, man, I was just kidding around." I put the hatchet back on the rack as he put the hammer away. Then I looked back at him and asked him if he was sure, now that I didn't have an ax. He told me he was just kidding again, his friends laughing like I was the stupid one and missing some hilarious joke, and used a tone that indicated the same. I went to pay for my tape, and though they were laughing, they made a rather quick exit from the store.
Weird story, huh? Good thing I didn't have to break it down on some kids. I'm not entirely sure of the legality of that kind of situation, seeing as they were minors but that they, I think, technically threatened me with a weapon. I guess it's an equally good thing that the kid didn't find out my opinion about feeling a hammer in a more direct way, asking me after he tested it out. The moral, I think: kids these days are punks, i.e. I'm getting old.
The other night I was looking into the matter further, reading up on it via a slough of articles hunted down off of the internet with no real way to know for sure what was accurate and what wasn't among what I studied, and I found a bizarre article that talked a lot about trigger points in the sacroiliac region. I thought there might be something to it after seeing where this guy got his ideas and how he's used them. I poked around in my psoas muscles, which I'd already been stretching intensely from as soon as I was able to get into the positions, and instead of feeling what I expected (muscles, most likely tight ones), I felt what the author was talking about: trigger points, dozens of them. Probably scores, actually, were in there. It felt quite a bit like a sack of pellets stuffed very tightly, in fact. Immediately, I climbed in bed and started working them out even though it was far later than I usually like to stay up now, but I fell asleep after an hour and a half or so in my right side and had barely touched my left. I woke up the next morning and went directly back to it, working a little in my left but almost entirely in my right, again going for more than an hour, and when I went to stand, I felt several times better than I had all along in the preceding weeks, even after chiropractic. My psoas muscles also felt remarkably different. In the days since, I've worked more into those (the article said it might take two weeks to two months to work all of them out of the pelvis, depending on how bad it is in there) and made significant progress. I've also explored around and found trigger points in the other hip muscles, lower abdominals, and some into the low-back region, though it's HARD to reach and work on. My hands are quite sore, having dug deeply into my flesh to push out knots of tension for about 5-6 hours in the last three and a half days, but I'm feeling almost better than I usually do (generally better than usual, though there's still a stiff spot that isn't usually there). That keeps me going; well, that and the idea that my hands are going to be very, very strong from this. I think that this combined with stretching and a little chiropractic will actually heal me as opposed to just keeping me at a barely acceptable status quo (which is where mediocre attempts at stretching and some chiropractic was keeping me).
Interesting little things come up, like sudden releases of a tiny knot, no bigger than a grain of rice, followed by an intense sensation like hot water flooding down and spreading out through the inside of my leg. That comes up a lot. Relief usually follows. I'm having very bizarre dreams, which the author suggested might come up since his belief is that trigger points are primarily "stored-up fear-based emotions." When you release the point, apparently, the emotion starts working its way out. Hence, I rub into these painful little areas with a mantra of "am I willing to let this go?" Sometimes it seems to help. Sometimes it doesn't do much. Maybe that's my subconscious answering yes and no, respectively. Maybe it has nothing to do with it. I like it, though, so I'm keeping it up. As a weird side-effect, I'm in a wholly better mood than I have been in over the last four to five years (length of Ph.D. program?).
In any event, Sunday, the first day I was feeling much, much better, running around with a bit of a gleam in my eyes, I went to the store to get some duct tape to finish off my Proxy Saber, v. 2, which is superior in nearly every way to the original by following Ket's design. While there, since I have some yard work to do that requires a hatchet that I don't own yet, I went to look at the hatchets. Some I liked but wasn't willing to pay so much for, and some I didn't despite their bargain price. Eventually I was holding one, feeling its weight and balance, trying to decide if the price for it was right when all of a sudden three teenagers dressed in a vaguely counter-culture way came into the aisle. One was smaller, maybe 115 pounds, and a young man. One was bigger and clearly not as sharp or at least less of a leader but probably no older, maybe 15 or so. The third was a girl that was running around with them, skinny and frail looking with a falsely tough exterior. The smaller guy stood a few feet from me and picked up a eight- or ten-ounce ball hammer off the rack and eyed it for a minute, bouncing it a little in his hand to get used to the weight. Then he turned to me and said the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard, particularly seeing as I was still holding the hatchet and bigger than him by at least 50-60 pounds and almost a foot of height: "Hey mister, have you ever been hit in the head with a ball-peen hammer, and would you like to experience it?"
I would love to know what the kid was thinking when he said that. I'm guessing that he was trying to be funny, which he, of course, failed at. I turned to face him, still holding the hatchet, and grinned at him, almost looking excited, and said, "you wanna go?"
He looked like he was going to soil his pants in response and then tried to play it off all nonchalantly: "Nah, man, I was just kidding around." I put the hatchet back on the rack as he put the hammer away. Then I looked back at him and asked him if he was sure, now that I didn't have an ax. He told me he was just kidding again, his friends laughing like I was the stupid one and missing some hilarious joke, and used a tone that indicated the same. I went to pay for my tape, and though they were laughing, they made a rather quick exit from the store.
Weird story, huh? Good thing I didn't have to break it down on some kids. I'm not entirely sure of the legality of that kind of situation, seeing as they were minors but that they, I think, technically threatened me with a weapon. I guess it's an equally good thing that the kid didn't find out my opinion about feeling a hammer in a more direct way, asking me after he tested it out. The moral, I think: kids these days are punks, i.e. I'm getting old.
Monday, October 13, 2008
Don't Know Chinese
I keep getting all excited about the fact that I knew the Holding and Lifting forms are called "ping tua," as well as I could tell. My ability to hear Pinyin, though is about a 6/100. It's ping tuo, apparently. Ping means "to make level or even" and tuo means "to support with the palm or hand." Even if my Chinese isn't rocking, I am, at least getting better with the forms, I think. Fortunately or unfortunately (for who can say which), I think the English name is more clear in giving a methodological approach to the theory of the forms than the Chinese, but that may be because I don't really know clearly all the levels of meaning of the words. Hopefully the English name isn't misleading me, getting me to add to the form things that aren't there.
Since my back has been hurting, 90% or more of my training for the last week and a half has been done laying on my back in visualization. That's given me a lot of time to imagine going through the ping tuo forms on someone, and I'm really glad I took the time to do that instead of adopting an "I'm hurt" defeatist attitude. While I didn't get better at actually doing the form, I did get a pretty firm appreciation for how some of the techniques work and how some of the subtleties play an important role in making them work, and I was excited to play with those a little tonight at our (very small) get together, one in which I was mobile enough to do more than act the consultant. It was pretty interesting, to say the least, and I was sort of surprised by how clearly and quickly the techniques came to life for me after repeatedly doing them mentally for over a week. I particularly feel more confident in the "give them something to think about" technology.
One of the more interesting changes I've experienced since coming from Vermont really came to a point during this time too. I'm much better, I feel, at picking out subtle details and nuances of movement and usage from the videos than I was before this trip. It's absolutely amazing what a good teacher can bring out and change for a person in even a short period of time with just a little of hardly deserved attention. It underscored a lesson I've heard and even started to notice more clearly in my classroom teaching (math) job: if you attempt teach something to someone before they're ready to learn it, then they won't learn it (well?). So many things that I heard a year ago or more are suddenly more reasonable and accessible, in fact almost obvious in some cases, after seeing these things again with a new set of goggles on, so to speak. They were, of course, completely obscured to me before the change. It gets me very excited about what further changing and developing is available.
The update on my back is that it's *mostly* better. I spent a long day in a chair on Saturday and some time since then as well, and that's keeping it from being back to normal, which still isn't awesome. In any case, I've gotten to this point without the aid of a chiropractor or other manipulator. That is somewhat encouraging. Since I have an appointment for adjustment on Wednesday of this week, I'm optimistic about the outcome, and I'm furthermore absolutely enthusiastic about doing what it takes to reclaim my back from the degeneration it's suffered at years of what I've determined is goofed-up posture, probably since the accident that broke me as a teenager.
I'm going to try my hand at turning again tomorrow. I would have tonight, but such was the nature of my work day and our meeting together that it wasn't on the agenda. It seems weird to have gone this long without turning, and it hasn't been this long since the last time my back hosed me. I think I'll have to be careful not to overdo it, though. We'll see how I feel, I guess. Before that, I'm going to stand. Tonight. For the first time in what seems like ages!
Since my back has been hurting, 90% or more of my training for the last week and a half has been done laying on my back in visualization. That's given me a lot of time to imagine going through the ping tuo forms on someone, and I'm really glad I took the time to do that instead of adopting an "I'm hurt" defeatist attitude. While I didn't get better at actually doing the form, I did get a pretty firm appreciation for how some of the techniques work and how some of the subtleties play an important role in making them work, and I was excited to play with those a little tonight at our (very small) get together, one in which I was mobile enough to do more than act the consultant. It was pretty interesting, to say the least, and I was sort of surprised by how clearly and quickly the techniques came to life for me after repeatedly doing them mentally for over a week. I particularly feel more confident in the "give them something to think about" technology.
One of the more interesting changes I've experienced since coming from Vermont really came to a point during this time too. I'm much better, I feel, at picking out subtle details and nuances of movement and usage from the videos than I was before this trip. It's absolutely amazing what a good teacher can bring out and change for a person in even a short period of time with just a little of hardly deserved attention. It underscored a lesson I've heard and even started to notice more clearly in my classroom teaching (math) job: if you attempt teach something to someone before they're ready to learn it, then they won't learn it (well?). So many things that I heard a year ago or more are suddenly more reasonable and accessible, in fact almost obvious in some cases, after seeing these things again with a new set of goggles on, so to speak. They were, of course, completely obscured to me before the change. It gets me very excited about what further changing and developing is available.
The update on my back is that it's *mostly* better. I spent a long day in a chair on Saturday and some time since then as well, and that's keeping it from being back to normal, which still isn't awesome. In any case, I've gotten to this point without the aid of a chiropractor or other manipulator. That is somewhat encouraging. Since I have an appointment for adjustment on Wednesday of this week, I'm optimistic about the outcome, and I'm furthermore absolutely enthusiastic about doing what it takes to reclaim my back from the degeneration it's suffered at years of what I've determined is goofed-up posture, probably since the accident that broke me as a teenager.
I'm going to try my hand at turning again tomorrow. I would have tonight, but such was the nature of my work day and our meeting together that it wasn't on the agenda. It seems weird to have gone this long without turning, and it hasn't been this long since the last time my back hosed me. I think I'll have to be careful not to overdo it, though. We'll see how I feel, I guess. Before that, I'm going to stand. Tonight. For the first time in what seems like ages!
Sunday, October 5, 2008
Spinadees
The direction I've chosen seems to be a pretty good one, and after reviewing the ping tua forms in the sweeping, cutting, chopping, and hooking palms, I'm starting to see much more clearly some of the ideas in the sweeping form that Matt was attempting to elucidate for us. My sweeping strikes seem to be getting better too, though that general feeling of "heaviness" still is kind of weak. I'm not sure why I have such a hard time with it. I'm probably trying too hard. In any case, it's really strange how looking at those other palms on my own, which I cannot be 100% sure on whether I'm doing them entirely correctly or not, particularly with the stepping, gives better insight into the things that Matt was spelling out perfectly plainly for us a few weeks ago in Vermont. Weird... but good. Certain movements in each of the other forms have made it a lot more clear how valuable it can be to pay attention to these subtle details, and I'm glad I've undertaken the study and seen that.
Unfortunately for me, or fortunately as it may truly be the case, my ability in VT to participate was somewhat limited by the fact that I had hurt my back about a week earlier carrying some boxes. That put a slight limit on what I was and wasn't able to do, which sucked from where I stood because I would have been gladder to give a better showing. I thought it wouldn't be a big deal, but I could tell within a few hours on the first day that it wasn't going to not be a big deal. I just wish I hadn't put off the chiropractic I went to until the day before we left. Perhaps things would have been different. I still would have had to swallow a lot of bitter, but probably not so much as I did.
The title of this post is "spinadees," which is the silly and immature name my brother and I have given back pain after seeing a silly and immature internet cartoon talking about spikes coming out of a back as being "spinadees," spelling here is questionable but the one I've chosen to use for the purpose. Well, for whatever reason (probably desk-jockeying), this week my back went almost completely out after feeling almost completely recovered (as in my hips visibly weren't on straight: cocked to one side, twisted slightly, and tilted forward, with powerful muscle spasms to boot). Since this has happened quite a few times (it's come and gone since a jiu-jitsu incident about 7 years ago, though the actual triggering injury was almost definitely when I was in 9th or 10th grade (about 13 years ago)), and I was in a position to drop everything when it did, most of the damage was prevented, which is to say I was only mostly floor-bound (as opposed to totally) for 6-8 hours one evening until bed (instead of for 3-5 days) and painfully semi-mobile the next day. Today is the next day after that, and I'm about 70% mobile now and in relatively minimal, though constant pain, although "serious discomfort" is closer to the real sensation than "pain." It sucks for me, so far as I can tell, because I had just hit a real stride with my training, both in terms of what felt like positive gains and in terms of strong desire to put in extra time. Don't be misled, though: I'm almost positive what caused the back pain had nothing to do with the training (which I've never been sure of before) and a lot to do with 1) sudden progress at workin my research (which meant obscene amounts of time in desk chairs -- 13+ hours on Thursday alone), and 2) emotional factors (stress, frustration, irritation -- some from the sudden progress and much from the other aspects of my job, i.e. teaching, and quite a bit from my dealing with kids), which I think have more to do with pain than we like to admit here in the West.
In any case, I caught up a lot on my reading in the "down time" and realized a few elements that apply to general qigong training that should apply neatly as nuances to be used in standing practice. I look forward to feeling well enough to test that via hard training. I also spent a lot more time getting into my body through stretching and deep breathing, trying to get into touch with those emotions and tensions that were causing me the pain. I definitely need to put more attention into those two aspects of my training: breathing and stretching, as well as paying attention to subtle forces and changes within my body, even though those don't manifest plainly as being part of the martial art. I was also free to do a lot of contemplation, which was nice for trying to understand the forms. I spent a lot of time envisioning myself using the movements from the ping tua forms on people, much to my amusement and surprise, surprise at how clearly in some cases I could "feel" what would make the move succeed.
I'm really hoping that tomorrow will prove a better day than even today for my back and hips, and if it is, then I'm completely stoked about meeting up with the group and playing with some of these ideas.
Unfortunately for me, or fortunately as it may truly be the case, my ability in VT to participate was somewhat limited by the fact that I had hurt my back about a week earlier carrying some boxes. That put a slight limit on what I was and wasn't able to do, which sucked from where I stood because I would have been gladder to give a better showing. I thought it wouldn't be a big deal, but I could tell within a few hours on the first day that it wasn't going to not be a big deal. I just wish I hadn't put off the chiropractic I went to until the day before we left. Perhaps things would have been different. I still would have had to swallow a lot of bitter, but probably not so much as I did.
The title of this post is "spinadees," which is the silly and immature name my brother and I have given back pain after seeing a silly and immature internet cartoon talking about spikes coming out of a back as being "spinadees," spelling here is questionable but the one I've chosen to use for the purpose. Well, for whatever reason (probably desk-jockeying), this week my back went almost completely out after feeling almost completely recovered (as in my hips visibly weren't on straight: cocked to one side, twisted slightly, and tilted forward, with powerful muscle spasms to boot). Since this has happened quite a few times (it's come and gone since a jiu-jitsu incident about 7 years ago, though the actual triggering injury was almost definitely when I was in 9th or 10th grade (about 13 years ago)), and I was in a position to drop everything when it did, most of the damage was prevented, which is to say I was only mostly floor-bound (as opposed to totally) for 6-8 hours one evening until bed (instead of for 3-5 days) and painfully semi-mobile the next day. Today is the next day after that, and I'm about 70% mobile now and in relatively minimal, though constant pain, although "serious discomfort" is closer to the real sensation than "pain." It sucks for me, so far as I can tell, because I had just hit a real stride with my training, both in terms of what felt like positive gains and in terms of strong desire to put in extra time. Don't be misled, though: I'm almost positive what caused the back pain had nothing to do with the training (which I've never been sure of before) and a lot to do with 1) sudden progress at workin my research (which meant obscene amounts of time in desk chairs -- 13+ hours on Thursday alone), and 2) emotional factors (stress, frustration, irritation -- some from the sudden progress and much from the other aspects of my job, i.e. teaching, and quite a bit from my dealing with kids), which I think have more to do with pain than we like to admit here in the West.
In any case, I caught up a lot on my reading in the "down time" and realized a few elements that apply to general qigong training that should apply neatly as nuances to be used in standing practice. I look forward to feeling well enough to test that via hard training. I also spent a lot more time getting into my body through stretching and deep breathing, trying to get into touch with those emotions and tensions that were causing me the pain. I definitely need to put more attention into those two aspects of my training: breathing and stretching, as well as paying attention to subtle forces and changes within my body, even though those don't manifest plainly as being part of the martial art. I was also free to do a lot of contemplation, which was nice for trying to understand the forms. I spent a lot of time envisioning myself using the movements from the ping tua forms on people, much to my amusement and surprise, surprise at how clearly in some cases I could "feel" what would make the move succeed.
I'm really hoping that tomorrow will prove a better day than even today for my back and hips, and if it is, then I'm completely stoked about meeting up with the group and playing with some of these ideas.
Tuesday, September 23, 2008
A Direction?
After meeting with the group last night to rehash what we learned in Vermont as well as to start to try to compile a direction for us to go forward in our training through the myriad paths of Yin Style Baguazhang, we may have settled some of the debate that I was having. A couple of assumptions underly this decision though.
This offers a bit of a compromise into how I could study the striking methods over the same time period as well (each also a "study in themselves"). Since we studied hard on the sweeping, cutting, and grasping methods, perhaps while we're trying to develop much better skillfulness with those particular forms, I should be working those striking methods diligently as well. That gives me two intersecting paths to follow, three times at least. I could use the rest of the "magic eight" to expand beyond that if time allowed, but I'm almost sure it won't. I think I will try to consider doing something like this, using one form as a basis (for example purposes, lifting and holding - sweeping, then going to the others:
I think I'm on to something. I just hope it's not crap.
- We need much more practice on what we worked on in Vermont (true).
- A new set of curriculum will be announced from Beijing in the spring (probably true).
This offers a bit of a compromise into how I could study the striking methods over the same time period as well (each also a "study in themselves"). Since we studied hard on the sweeping, cutting, and grasping methods, perhaps while we're trying to develop much better skillfulness with those particular forms, I should be working those striking methods diligently as well. That gives me two intersecting paths to follow, three times at least. I could use the rest of the "magic eight" to expand beyond that if time allowed, but I'm almost sure it won't. I think I will try to consider doing something like this, using one form as a basis (for example purposes, lifting and holding - sweeping, then going to the others:
- Study the lifting and holding forms, learning all eight of them, putting double emphasis (or more?) on the sweeping variety. That should give me practice with what we studied while being able to investigate its underlying theme from another set of perspectives (7 of them) as well. I should continue to practice the other two that we focused on, though more as a maintenance effort than a deep development effort (so as not to lose sight of or forget requirements, nuances, and details).
- Study the sweeping strikes concurrently, putting particular emphasis on the basics and those occurring in the lifting and holding form.
- Borrow stepping methods from the lifting and holding form and drill the movements from the forms as well as the basics using those stepping methods (in addition to others?).
- Incorporate standing in the sweeping palm posture (and the Dragon posture???) on a daily basis, in addition to whichever other postures suit my fancy on that particular day/week.
I think I'm on to something. I just hope it's not crap.
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.
Friday, September 19, 2008
Off to an okay start
I wish I was off to a good start, but taking off all of Thursday through Sunday and half of Monday put me so far behind that I'm only just now coming up for breath. I've trained some since I've been home, but never in that hard, fierce way I prefer to. Yesterday, I worked the saber drills I learned with a broom and then holding 5 lb. medicine balls in my hands, and I worked them several times -- enough to be notably sore today. I even did them with my katana, which was okay for a couple of the drills and for looking kind of cool with the form, but it's too light and short. It's no comparison. It's not the same as a dadao. I need to get one.
I'm going to try to turn again here in a few minutes, but I don't know how long it will last. I was up past two last night grading and out of bed again at about 7:45 this morning to pick up the torch again. Grading sometimes takes forever and can be extremely draining. I'm almost physically itching to get back to my real training, but I'm not sure I'm going to be capable of much today. I'm even vaguely dizzy and sick feeling at the moment, and I know that taking a nap will last well into the night (and therefore be a bad idea!).
What I have worked on is increasing the precision in my stepping and coordinating my body to this new pattern. I worked so hard all last year adapting my stepping to the one I noticed was most common in doing many of the drills we practice, and in doing so, I made a mistake that now just seems plain foolish. I assumed it was the proper way to step doing baguazhang. Why should it be? Bagua wouldn't paint itself into a corner with only one way to step, but that's sort of what I've done, and changing it is hard. I'm having a particularly tough time remembering to swing my leg in on a cutting-in step, especially in the Lifting and Holding forms. I blatantly see its usefulness and importance, though. I'm going to trust to what they say: hold the requirements in your mind, try to meet them, practice a lot, and your body will catch up to your intentions. I already believe it since it's not a problem really in the Lying Step.
As I'm sitting here, I'm thinking of yet another post I want to make, but I'll wait until I play with the idea in my body a little more before saying anything. Let me just put it this way: what I discussed above and what I'm thinking about (and have made a note of due to my overfull, overtired head) really impress the idea that if a person is really interested in learning Yin Style Baguazhang, that person cannot be lazy: (s)he wouldn't have time! There's so much to learn, so much to train, so much to study... missing even a day without contemplating, experiencing, testing, feeling, and working it is an opportunity beyond recall!
I'm going to try to turn again here in a few minutes, but I don't know how long it will last. I was up past two last night grading and out of bed again at about 7:45 this morning to pick up the torch again. Grading sometimes takes forever and can be extremely draining. I'm almost physically itching to get back to my real training, but I'm not sure I'm going to be capable of much today. I'm even vaguely dizzy and sick feeling at the moment, and I know that taking a nap will last well into the night (and therefore be a bad idea!).
What I have worked on is increasing the precision in my stepping and coordinating my body to this new pattern. I worked so hard all last year adapting my stepping to the one I noticed was most common in doing many of the drills we practice, and in doing so, I made a mistake that now just seems plain foolish. I assumed it was the proper way to step doing baguazhang. Why should it be? Bagua wouldn't paint itself into a corner with only one way to step, but that's sort of what I've done, and changing it is hard. I'm having a particularly tough time remembering to swing my leg in on a cutting-in step, especially in the Lifting and Holding forms. I blatantly see its usefulness and importance, though. I'm going to trust to what they say: hold the requirements in your mind, try to meet them, practice a lot, and your body will catch up to your intentions. I already believe it since it's not a problem really in the Lying Step.
As I'm sitting here, I'm thinking of yet another post I want to make, but I'll wait until I play with the idea in my body a little more before saying anything. Let me just put it this way: what I discussed above and what I'm thinking about (and have made a note of due to my overfull, overtired head) really impress the idea that if a person is really interested in learning Yin Style Baguazhang, that person cannot be lazy: (s)he wouldn't have time! There's so much to learn, so much to train, so much to study... missing even a day without contemplating, experiencing, testing, feeling, and working it is an opportunity beyond recall!
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"The most important thing when studying the martial arts is not to be lazy. These skills are not easily attained. For them, one must endure a lot of suffering." -He Jinbao