Work

Tonight's lesson was cancelled at short notice due to my student needing to make arrangements for a colleague who had been hit in the face with a hook. I was suddenly reminded of the physical peril involved in an industry such as oil, in which many of my students work here in the North East of Scotland. Apart from icy roads when I am on my moped, and the hordes of 'boy racers' in Inverurie when I get there to teach, I rarely encounter actual physical danger. I wonder what working in a dangerous environment does to your energy and attitude. Do you get blase, does it keep you anxious and adrenalised, or can it be beneficial, in any way, to be close to disaster each day?

Just as I finished typing that last sentence I heard a tremendous sound from the kitchen and ran through. Diesel, my rather small neutered black cat was chasing out the huge farm tom-cat that comes in and steals his leftover food most nights and prowls the kitchen. Usually Diesel stays on his chair and doesn't get involved, but there was a huge fight outside in the woods between the two cats, despite my shouts. Most nights the other cat comes around as we are part of his territory and although we have cornered and chased him he still returns. I wonder how it will work itself out.

I spent the evening doing my own solo work as David returned to London today for two weeks, we will miss him. Steve's recent blog had spoken of practising badly, and how easy this is. Many times I have slipped into dullness, repetition or just drifted off. My work this fortnight is to try to be as connected in my solo work as when I am with my teacher, in class or working with David. Physically this involves applying myself to each thing I work on and working on what my teacher has asked me to improve, modify, drain tension from, repeat, endure, etc: one thing at a time. Mentally it requires much putting down of thoughts, endlessly, for the whole session. I will watch how and if this changes over the fortnight, if things become quieter. In terms of how it all feels, I am trying to cultivate the same kind of 'springing out of myself' that I feel when I am studying with my teacher or really connected with David, Marli, or another T'ai Chi partner. At the moment this comes and goes and has to do with whether I am bound up in myself. There is great energy suddenly present for the moments when I am not stuck in myself and am joined and connected. It has nothing to do with anyone else being in the room. Sadly, I have definitely pushed hands on autopilot, right in front of someone yet totally unconnected. Mark laughingly refers to this as 'washing machine T'ai Chi', it just goes round and round, even if it is on 'delicates'.

When I ask students to do their practice at home, and you tell me it is difficult, or you get distracted, or forget what you are meant to be doing, I can assure you that I do know what you are talking about. The only way through all this is to do the work, and to get the attitude, spirit and effort right. I am still working on this after about 8 or 9 years doing T'ai Chi. It also is a source of frustration, yet a strangely motivating thought, that I began T'ai Chi 20 years ago this month. Wishing I had practised that whole time makes me want to work more now.

Term starts soon for all the classes, lots of new students have been making enquiries, as well as folks who have done other styles of T'ai Chi before. Most will not have done any partner work before and it is an opportunity for all those of you who have done a term or even 3 years with me to really join, listen, yield... I know I mention this each term but, the first time you do sticking with a newcomer can so influence how they will feel in the coming sessions. This is not about being superficially 'nice', but wholehearted, gentle, really listening.

Also, those of you who have been studying one-to-one or in groups with Mark and myself over the break have learned a lot of exciting, wonderful things; techniques, movements, corrections, waist turns and so on. However, don't forget the first things that we learned are still vital. 'Sink, turn, relax'. 'Forget self, join with the other'. When we work with a partner we have to put down the technique and really listen; whoever we are working with and whatever we are doing, otherwise we're just caught up in our own little world, inflicting some weird movement on another human being. This is an ongoing lesson, and I am saying it to myself as well as to my students.