While I was working as a lecturer in a Chinese university, basketball was incredibly popular amongst the students. Many of us foreigners assumed that this was due to the success of Yao Ming in the US. However, I’ve just found a piece of archive film that shows basketball was popular even in 1937… and at the end, are they skating on Houhai?
More interesting to readers here will be the first couple of minutes, in which we are earnestly told that “traditional sports still hold some interest“. All I’m going to say is… what on earth is that guy using??? Watch, and you’ll see what I mean.
The Flashing Blade was a cheesy Euro-drama – made in France, and later dubbed into English – that I absolutely adored during… I guess it would have been the late 70s? Rapiers, damsels in distress, noble heroes and wicked baddies, as many swashes being buckled as you like… Ahhhhh, it was all so simple then…
So much of why you do what you do, especially the way you hold the weapon and the way it moves in space comes down to blade and handle design and how that ‘interacts’ with human anatomy.
When Yang Lu-chan popularised tai chi by teaching it to the Manchu Emperor’s palace guards, he probably taught sword forms.
Why?
Because in 1850 it may have been a well-used weapon in China.
Yang Lu-chan’s purpose in teaching sword would have been for self defence, for viable, practical martial purposes.
150 years later…
In the UK nobody carries a sword.
You are unlikely to be attacked by a sword and you are unlikely to be carrying a sword yourself.
The police are not happy with members of the public owning or using swords.
and
We do not teach the broadsword as a self defence tool. Sifu Waller has no interest in training or teaching sword forms and drills.
Hmm.
Clearly, these two points of view agree on the basics; the sword forms of taiji, bagua, and xingyi were developed by people who lived in dangerous times and needed to perfect weapon forms for their own survival. The question is: do these forms have any meaningful purpose today, or are they just an historical legacy that’s beautiful in its own right but – due to social and technological changes – now obsolete.
Well…
I wrote a year or two ago about the Sikh martial art of gatka. That came to mind as I heard about one of the stories from the recent riots in England, where the Sikhs of Enfield came out to defend their gurdwara.
Personally, I’ve got a lot of time for Sikhs, having known them in Singapore. Watch various videos on YouTube about these guys in Enfield, and you’ll see a few swords in evidence. As one the men in the clip says: “Why aren’t the police here? Can you see any police?“.
I’m sorry if this is becoming too much of a regular refrain, but I think that hard times are coming. This isn’t the US; we don’t have a gun culture here, and thank goodness for that. Nevertheless, flash mob crimes are increasingly happening both here and there, organised, I’m guessing, by people who have experience of commanding raiding parties in MMPORPGs (though the media don’t seem to have picked up on this; and I have to say I have no evidence beyond a gut feeling). Here’s an example:
Don’t know. Really, I don’t know. Maybe it was all a one-off, and things will go back to what we used to call normal. But, I read economic data and news ever day, and I see no sign of that – quite the contrary. Here’s a great article from The Oil Drum; it lays out clearly how Peak Oil means that economic growth is a thing of the past. How will that work out? No-one can be sure yet, but the signs we see so far are of mass civil unrest.
So… Is training in the sword, and other weapons forms obsolete? I’m not at all convinced of that. I think they may still have a future. Maybe not as an everyday individual piece of equipment – but it may be that those of us who study martial arts will need to step up and use that knowledge as part of our communities.
(NB not so long ago, McDonald’s in the US held a national hiring day, and were overwhelmed with applications – to the extent that violence broke out between applicants in some places. I saw something about that on YouTube, and noticed that many of the people in the clip were carrying golf clubs. At first that struck me as strange, since the US after all is a gun culture. After a while, I concluded that although many of these people probably did have guns, they carried golf clubs so that they could engage in self-defence at an intermediate level, when drawing a firearm was just too risky. I’d be interested to hear what readers from the US think about that).
* Not to be disrespectful in any way, but I don’t call anyone sifu unless I’ve accepted them as my personal martial arts mentor and teacher.
As I was standing in the garden yesterday morning, a flight of wild geese flew over the treeline, not all that far above my head. There were about twenty of them, honking to each other in a leisurely conversation, on their way somewhere…
As it turned out, I was in the garden quite a lot. Two sessions of zhan zhuang: one early afternoon, with the sun warm (for once!) on my face, the other approaching midnight, with a full-ish moon and the stars clear and bright. I also spent a while planting herbs on the bank of the garden; once they’ve taken, I should be able to do my meditations and standing practice with their scent in the fresh air… I remember vividly what it was like to stand in zhan zhuang when I visited Qingbiankou in Hebei Province, with the herb-scented breeze flowing down from the hills… Quite an experience… Finally, I lifted the first of my potatoes… A rather disappointing crop so far, but I bet they’ll taste nice this evening…
Not what you’re expecting from a martial arts blog, perhaps… But wait…
There was a car boot sale behind the town hall yesterday morning, and I strolled down to take a look. I ended up buying a bunch of books, and four chili pepper plants. I’m not sure what type they are, but the peppers look as if they’ll be rather small, which suggests they’ll be hot! (Oh, and I ordered some sichuan pepper bushes from an online garden supplier; give it a year or two, and I’ll be able to prepare my own ma la mix with entirely home-grown ingredients!). Anyway, as I walked down, I found myself being greeted by shopkeepers standing in their doorways and passersby… People I went to school with, or I regularly shop with, or who drink in the same local pub as me, or even just are faces I see regularly… It was a good feeling.
What’s this got to do with anything, you may be asking. Well, it’s been a crazy week, world-wide, hasn’t it? The US downgraded; even so, things will get worse there, because there’s no money left. As I’ve mentioned several times before, in the US, government at every level is broke, and will have to stop its operations. In Euroland, there’s no respite as governments try to find a solution to sovereign debt – but they won’t, because there is no good solution. And, in London, the cracks started to show, as the streets burned, and the police barely held the line. It’s all quiet again now, but the problems are not going away.
Behind all this lies resource scarcity. Oil, food, water, minerals, whatever. It’s all costing more than it did, and that’s only going to get worse. In London, Minnesota, the Middle East, Africa, China… those who have nothing are finding it hard to cope as the costs of living rise… Those who have something will become ever more desperate to hang on to it…
So, it’s a good time to go back to examine basics. The targets I set myself, and described on this blog, a year or so back are proving to be sound ones. I’m re-establishing myself in a strong community, where people know and look out for each other. I’m getting familiar with how the garden works; reading my books to learn about the medicinal values of herbs and spices, so that I can decide which to plant… And working on the martial arts and meditation, to build mental and physical resilience…
At the top, the photo is of London Sikhs, who gathered to protect their gurdwara from the mob; standing on the steps with swords, axes, and sticks. Perhaps that kind of thing will become more common.
Time has been too short in the last few days to do any work with the spear; even if I’d had time, it’s been raining too much (heh, so I’m wimpy – but even if I’d felt like practising in the rain, the ground is so wet that I would have trashed the lawn, so I needn’t feel bad about not going out!)
However… I’ve been getting a heck of a lot out of what I’ve been doing with the spear so far. As I mentioned in my last post, for someone without a training partner, spear-work really is a good test of whether or not the technique is generating power or not. In that video above, the key moment for me is at about 15 seconds in, when the performer starts full-body shaking, transmitting the power down the spear. Damn, I can’t do that! It really reminds me of a part of the longxing bagua form that Master Zhou Yue Wen taught, which also had a shaking move, very similar to what’s happening in the clip.
Looking at that, I think it seems to encapsulate the key element of what I’m striving to achieve; master that kind of full-body shaking power, and it can be applied in taijiquan, xingyiquan, or baguazhang… No problem. Again, and this is a purely personal observation, I have to say that the only path I’ve encountered that would lead me towards this is yiquan as taught by Master Yao Chengrong…
I was practising zhan zhuang in the garden yesterday morning. Heavy but broken black clouds were low in the sky, allowing golden moments of sunlight to break through and illuminate the tops of the saplings I planted last month. As I stood, the blackbirds landed close by my feet, scraping caterpillars against the path to rub the hairs off. A robin came to investigate me, lost interest, and went to the next garden. A squirrel ran along the top of the fence at the end of the garden, paused for a short while to survey the territory, and then leisurely went back the way he came.
It occurred to me that this was the experience of those Daoists who developed the neijia styles. In their silent, stationary, meditations, they would have observed the life around them, just as I do; having stilled their minds, they project no emotion, no intentions, that would alert the beasts and birds around them. Thus, in the mountains, they would have seen the bears and the tigers, the storks and the snakes, going out their business with no fear of the observer.
That led me back to something I’ve mentioned before, the naming of taiji movements. In the West, names such as ‘Parting Wild Horse’s Mane’, ‘Fair Lady Works Shuttles’, ‘Stork spreads wings’ are regarded with amusement. How flowery! How poetic! But silly, after all; shouldn’t we give them names that explain how they’re used? What’s the, you know, practical application there, man? Of course, the answer is no, the names are perfect. They come from a close observation of nature, a clear understanding of the energies, the principles, the flow involved in that movement. It’s only our dysfunctional society, where children think milk is produced in factories, that is so alienated from the world of nature, that doesn’t get this.
Moreover, the ability to observe that nature, and the ability to express these energies in one’s own body… that comes first and foremost from control of one’s mind. To achieve that stillness. To know the body from inside. To understand how that flow of energy moves the human body to achieve that end… It’s the mind. All in the mind.
For me, I got that through yiquan, though of course I had a background in taijiquan before I got to it and, of course, I had completed several meditation retreats. For me, yiquan and taijiquan complement one another; the exact same principles, but expressed with yang energy in yiquan, and yin energy in taijiquan.
Thus, I agree with an awful lot that Tabby Cat writes about on this topic. I don’t agree that CMC-37 is the best, though of course I do also practise that form. He’s lucky, in that he found a teacher who led him to this insight. Not everyone gets that luck, and for them that form is not better than yiquan is for Tabby. For myself, it was with yiquan that I had the breakthrough. Horses. Courses.
But he’s right, though: it’s all about the energy. It’s all about the mind.
I have no idea why, but as I was sitting at my desk grading assignments, I suddenly found myself thinking of Joanna Zorya.
I mentioned Joanna in a couple of posts on the earlier version of this blog, while I was still living in Singapore. I followed the blog of one of her students, Kenny, until he stopped maintaining it, and Joanna and I exchanged comments a couple of times.
She’d come to my attention when her philosophy of rejecting the concept of qi, and teaching neijia purely as functional martial arts caused a stir for a while; looking back now, I’m not sure I remember why exactly people got so worked up about it.
Anyway, I quickly googled her to find her school’s website, and was startled to see this message at the top of the page:
Joanna Zorya passed away peacefully on Sunday 6th March 2011. Her memory lives on through this website, through her articles and videos, and in the hearts, minds, and movements of her students and her friends.
I never met Joanna in person, and I don’t know what happened to her. It seems from her website that she’d had a tough couple of years. I suppose all I can say is that we briefly made contact, and she impressed me with her passion and commitment to her arts, and her determination in fighting her corner. I’m sorry to learn that she isn’t with us any more.
Not too much to report at present. Sometimes when wake up at night, my fingers hurt from being tensed during zhan zhuang. I’ve started using the steel rings on my wrists in some postures.
The pair of blackbirds nesting nearby are getting pretty used to me now, especially the female. She darts around my feet while I’m practising the ba mu zhang (slowly, of course). She’s even coming within a few inches of me while I dig up the lawn to become a vegetable plot, hopping here and there in search of fresh, juicy worms. The male is more cautious, and won’t come near. This evening, the female landed right in front of me, and pulled a large worm halfway out of a large clod of earth, held it for a while, and then hopped off. She was looking at the male, perched nearby on the ridge of the greenhouse, as if to say “Look, it’s OK! It’s safe, and there’s good eating!”. I think she’s mentally classified me as strange but useful type of livestock; good at churning up earth, but not dangerous. A pig, perhaps.
There are times when I’m standing in zhan zhuang, maybe in the morning with all different kinds of birds flying about, and the sun just creeping into the corner of the garden, or in the evening with the mud from the garden drying on my fingers, when I simply don’t want to do anything else. I think of the hermits that Red Pine met in China, and I think to myself, this is how they live. Meditation, martial arts, growing their own food, close to nature and in harmony with the wildlife. Could anything be better?
Well, that isn’t an option for me at this time, but I’ll tell you what: these sessions of practice, morning and evening – nothing else comes close…
I am still here, I just haven’t been in to mood to post much.
London was great. I was lucky, and the weather was beautiful – blue skies, and hot sunshine, mmmm! There seemed to be cherry trees in bloom everywhere, and the scent at night was heavy and soporific. Of course, the main thing was that I caught up with S again. It was wonderful; we just picked up our friendship as if we’d seen each other last week, not seven months ago. We practised zhan zhuang together in Earl’s Court, went to see Ai Weiwei’s sunflower seeds exhibit at the Tate Modern, and generally had a good time hanging out.
Speaking of zhan zhuang, I did quite a bit, in parks or the gardens of the Youth Hostel where I stayed. Got a few funny looks, but that’s only to be expected!
I’ve been working a lot on the standing recently, getting a fair bit done most days. I’ve been working mostly on the basic health stances, working on opening up the kua to take the pressure off my knees, and working on loosening up the achilles tendons. I’m about ready to go on to more of the shi li stances, and also practising some of the more advanced health postures. I’m finding Lam Kam Chuen’s books very useful as guides for the time being. (S and I almost wandered over to Hercules Street from the Tate Modern to check out the Lam Association offices but decided that it was too hot and a bit too far, so we went to Covent Garden instead).
One of the pleasures of the standing has been the reconnection to nature as I practice in the garden. In the early mornings I have ducks and wild geese flying low over my head. A little later, I can enjoy the songs of the blackbirds, and the hoarse calls of the crows. In early evening, the birds are all settling back down into their roosts, and I slowly hear them all go quiet, until at last the final holdouts cease their lonely songs. This is also when the bats emerge, flittering overhead in the dying light. Then, at late night practice, I listen to the owls hunt, calling each other through the darkness. Something snuffles and crunches in the darkness – a hedgehog, perhaps?
Of course, I don’t do all of these slots every day! It just depends when I have time. But it’s nice.
In the garden, the trees I’ve planted are starting to bloom. The pear tree has the most; it’s very vigorous, and has put out a lot of flowers. The cherry tree is also doing well. The apple trees may bloom later this year, or it may be that they need to establish themselves, in which case I’ll see the results next year. The first five that I planted are all already much taller; they’re prospering, it seems. Good job I put a few handfuls of concentrated manure in the hole… Tomatos, chilis, and sunflowers are all germinating… Need to get a rambling rose planted soon, and to look at getting sweetcorn, rocket, beetroots and climbing beans underway…
The house move is in progress; hopefully all will be completed soon. I need to get deposits off for the anatomy course, and for the meditation leadership course. I’ve made contact with the local group of Thich Nhat Tran’s Order of Interbeing; they should have a meeting soon, but it seems they don’t get together very frequently. There’s also a branch of the Western Chan association nearby, who meet several times a month, so I’ll get in touch with them too.
Well, the trees have arrived, and have been planted in my parents’ garden: apple, plum, pear and cherry in one row, with a hazel tree starting a second row – which will probably be finished with a couple more apple trees, though that’s yet to be decided. I’ve got a row of potatoes dug, with a couple more to be done this weekend. Plus, I have packets of seeds to be started off: chili, four varieties of tomato, basil, and mushroom spores to be set in manure…
All very therapeutic, especially since spring is definitely here at long, long last and the weather has been wonderful lately. I can’t tell you how much it lifts my spirits to be going to work in sunlight, and coming home in sunlight too. Fantastic!
That aside, there have been some tough weeks lately. When I arrived at my new office, I was told “Welcome to the graveyard of ambition” and, in retrospect, I might have paid a bit more attention to that… Still, the change in season got me energized again and got me thinking… As someone said, if your environment stresses you, change your environment; if you can’t change your environment, change yourself. (I can’t remember who said that. Perhaps it was me). So, I’ll be leaving the fishing village in a few weeks; it’s very pretty but I’m not really getting to know anyone there. I’m moving back to my hometown, to a smaller place but at least I have a strong network there. I’ve started making changes at work too, so that should be less stressful.
When I was starting to sort my books for packing, though, I came across Bruce Frantzis’ classic book on the internal martial arts, and realized it was years since I last read it – and I’ve come a long way since then, so I took it to the pub to have a re-read. As I was looking at the section on the overlap between meditation and the internal martial arts, a lightbulb went on, and a big train of thought kicked off, the results of which are:
I remembered how much I enjoyed the tui na course I took in Beijing. I wanted to take it further then, but events intervened. However, having looked around, I’ve realised that there is an accredited course available in London that I could do on weekends that would qualify me to practice tui na in the UK with professional insurance. The next course begins in April; I was close to enrolling on that, but eventually decided that it was too soon, especially with the house-move still to come. Another entry point would be in October, running till January, which would be much more practical. It would also give me time to review all my videos, notes and books from the Beijing course.
Starting in October would also be a good idea, as it would allow me to take the anatomy & physiology course that I linked to in a previous post; it would make the tui na course far more rewarding if I started it with a good grounding in the physical structure of the body.
I mentioned how I have been attending meditation sessions at work, and had managed one session when the instructor was away. That got me looking for courses, and I’ve found a course in leading meditation sessions. Again, it’s accredited, so would allow me to get insurance and run classes professionally. I had a long chat on the phone last night with the trainer, and it looks like that would happen in June. It kicks off with a weekend course, followed by 6 weeks of home-based work.
This wouldn’t be cheap, but it is all certainly affordable for me, and is reasonable given the outcomes. If, by the time next spring comes around, I was able to run meditation sessions and tui na treatments, that would be a good thing to be able to do….
The week after reading Bruce Frantzis’ book, I was in a different pub – this one in my hometown, ie where I will soon be living again. I’d taken my copy of Sarah Pritchard’s tui na book to read through, and was reading through it slowly, when two girls sat down at the next table. I say girls, they were women, likely in their late 20s, early 30s maybe? Anyway, I could see them taking an interest, and eventually one came over and demanded to to know what it was all about. I explained, at which point she demanded a neck and shoulder massage. I pointed out that I wasn’t qualified, but to no avail – she pulled over a chair and sat down. What could I do, but obey? So, a neck and shoulder massage she got, and thoroughly enjoyed it. The other woman is a nurse, and was interested too. By the way, it says a lot about my local pub that although it was really busy, no-one batted an eyelid or even remarked at a massage being given in the middle of the room I saw the nurse the following week and apparently her friend had felt much more relaxed the next day. I mention this because it was quite serendipitous, and showed me that should I get a qualification there is actually a market for the skills…
Martial arts: what with one thing and another I’ve haven’t been to classes for a couple of weeks. However, I’ve noticed lately that my back and shoulders have been getting stiffer, and realized that it’s probably because I haven’t been doing any zhan zhuang. Once I started again, and stepped up my practice, all my aches and pains went away, and I even got out of breath less on steep hills. So, I’m really making an effort again with the yiquan. After all, as I’ve often said before, yiquan rocks! I’m hoping I’ll be able to get back to Beijing again this year if money allows, in order to train again with Master Yao; that would be nice…. I’m also making slow progress, in fits and starts, with the shanxi whipstaff, which is a nice form.
Spring, yeah! It feels good to have a plan. Meditation, yiquan and tui na make a nice triad, and one where I’ve already got a good base. Acting, Cossack dance, and systema are another interesting triad; I’ll need more time to develop these…
I saw the nurse the following week and apparently her friend had felt much more relaxed the next day. I mention this because it was quite serendipitous, and showed me that should I get a qualification there is actually a market for the skills…