Tai Chi

My friend in Illinois once did some Tai Chi and had encouraged me to try it. I have wanted to for awhile, but the opportunity just never came up. The Y offers a class on Monday evening, the same night the boys play soccer at Pearce. I have been trying to go for weeks, but somehow when Monday night rolls around, there is always something that keeps me from going.

Tonight I was determined to go come hell or high water. I needed to do another round in the Gulik Gym anyway since I will miss Saturday due to the all-seminary retreat, and they have a session from 7 to 9. The beginner Tai Chi was from 8:30 to 9:45. Good. I could drop the boys at soccer at 7 and squeeze both things in.

I was the only one in the Gulik Gym, the first time I have come without there being at least a half room of people. The instructor greeted me and walked around ahead of me disinfecting all the machines. She was playing oldies music which I liked, so the time passed quickly. I have managed to finally work my way up to three, and I could feel the burn (OK, so most of the 70 year olds do 8 or 9, big deal).

Afterwards I had a few minutes to wait, so I pulled out Catherine of Siena's Dialogue:The Bridge, which I am analyzing for my final paper in seminary. People must have thought it strange, but I have always been able to tune out surrounding hubbub and concentrate fairly well in noisy environments.

8:30 finally arrived and I headed upstairs to the Aerobics Center. People were finishing a Yoga class (I am happy not to be in that! They had all the lights off and were lying on the floor moaning. Hum). I hung my coat and perched on the couch waiting for the next class. At last the Yoga class ended. There was general confusion for about ten minutes as people gathered up their mats and belongings, got a drink and chatted before exiting the space.

After everyone had left, there were only five of us and the instructor. He introduced himself and invited me to do as much as I was comfortable doing or even to observe if I didn't want to participate right away. The breathing exercises went well and I had no trouble following the others' movements. Then they did the first portion of the movements. I mirrored as best I could, sometimes getting twisted backwards, sometimes finding myself on the wrong foot, but OK, it wasn't hard.

Then we broke up into small groups (yes, even smaller) and the instructor sent the more advanced students off to work together while he walked us through the movements. I had no idea that Tai Chi was really a martial art. I thought it was just a way to limber up and get yourself moving with some modicum of grace. Especially good for old and sick people. Which is sort of what it has become in America.

The story the instructor told was that in China, the peasant was not allowed to own a weapon or to fight against the soldiers. They were not even to practice fighting techniques like karate. This left him protectionless against the town bully. So while they were working in the fields, they developed moves that would counter attacks while looking like a dance or an exercise.

Every motion we made - the pickle barrel, the cobra, the whip, the dog paws - each was intended to either thwart an aggressive move of an attacker or fake them out so you could catch them off balance. Suddenly all those graceful dance-like motions took on a whole new significance. The instructor was not being picky about the position of your hand or foot, but was telling you that if you put your weight in the right places and move in certain ways, then you can out maneuver an assailant twice your size! Indeed. Interesting. And I could already feel some stiffness in my ribs from twisting and turning.

While I don't see myself becoming a dedicated follower, I would like to do some more of the movements - not to become an expert at fighting, but because I still find the movements beneficial for deep breathing and grace. Ah, well. Another bubble burst.