Tai' Chi

This was supposed to be about satellite dishes, but that will have to wait until next time. Stay tuned.

I’ve been thinking more about a Tai’ Chi class I take during lunch hour at work. I started because I heard it was good for dealing with stress and bad knees. I need help with both. But I have come to realize what a good exercise it is for my spirit. “Tai’ Chi” means “supreme ultimate” and it reminds me of the “Supreme Ultimate” we gather around each week.

I had to learn how to stand. One stands on a part of the foot called “the bubbling well.” That reminded me of the little hands churning up the baptismal font a few weeks ago. Willa said the best place to baptize was moving water. Running water.

My mother told us during camping trips to drink from living waters, not standing waters. She showed us in streams where the water was aerating and full of oxygen and life. I thought of the need to aerate my soul – to let it run over the rocks of prayer, community, and service to others. Like running water, it needs to keep moving and growing, gathering life, joining with others as it travels along.

But back to Tai’ Chi. Another thing I learned is that my soles (soul?) must stand well-planted and balanced. Perhaps it’s no coincidence that the Spanish word for the bottom of the foot is “planta.” My feet keep me connected to the earth, to life.

I have to remember lots for a proper Tai’ Chi stance, before exercises even begin: lean forward, keep my head up, keep my balance, draw my energy down within myself – a good road map for my faith life.

Actually Tai’ Chi was developed by monks as a way of defending themselves without harming their attacker. They could draw the attacker past and away from them by a yielding and turning rather than by resistance and aggression. Take the energy from the action and absorb it. Use the good energy and let the bad energy flow through and dissipate. Even before I heard about the monks, I was thinking of it as a sort of “martial arts for the pacifist.”

Tai’ Chi teaches physical balance of movement and energy, and I also need that balance in my faith life. This whole energy thing is a paradox. I get into the stance, support my weight, let my energy sink down within me, and ... feel my legs REALLY burn. The Tai’ Chi master says this is ok – that what I’m feeling is energy. I think of the road to Emmaus: “Did not our hearts burn within us while he talked to us?”

The master walks around the room correcting stance or movement. He gets in close and guides with a light touch, almost imperceptible. He stands directly in my energy and adds his energy to mine. This is how God is with us. We may hardly realize it until the light touch has redirected our energy, our stance, our movements. But we know we feel better. And we know we have been changed.