Tai Chi Teacher Certification Pros and Cons

What is the value of a certification to teach Tai chi? Let's look at some pros and cons of Tai Chi teacher certification.

I was recently asked to teach a Tai Chi class for a fitness program. In my interview with the program director and another Tai Chi expert from China, I demonstrated my old Tai Chi form which I amped up by incorporating my Wujifa skillset.

After my performance, the director asked me if I had any certifications. "Well, not with me." Luckily, the other interviewer, the Tai Chi expert, told her my Tai Chi was "professional level". And I got the job.

This experience raised a curious question for me. My skill is recognized as being professional level by an expert and yet I appeared questionable to the unknowing because I didn't have a certification.

As you may or may not know, the American Tai Chi and Qigong Association (ATCQA) offers independent, "third-party" certifications of Tai Chi teachers.

"The ATCQA Certification is not affiliated with any particular school, program, style or lineage. ATCQA provides independent accreditation of Tai Chi/Qigong practitioners and schools."

Outside of the ATCQA, I'm not aware of any other independent third party certifying organizations. Email me if you know of any. I'm curious.

Without a standardized, independent certification system, comparing Tai Chi teaching certificates from any of the many Tai Chi and Kung Fu schools is like comparing apples and oranges. There's no basis for comparison. That said, I do think certificates from these schools or organizations serve a purpose of providing a level of credibility to the unknowing such as I encountered in that interview.

Once upon a time, I was teaching Tai Chi at an Adult Education class. The following semester I learned that one of my students who was a first time learner, was now teaching Tai Chi at another club. So surely certifications serve to protect both the teacher/school (No, that person is not certified to teach my material.) as well as protect the unknowing public from such learn-one, do-one, teach-one hucksters.

Unlike American public high schools and colleges where the entire school is certified or accredited by a third-party organization, when it comes to Tai chi schools, the only accreditation the school proper has is the certificate of the teacher from his/her teacher. To me, this is the same as no accreditation.

I recently saw one school's website which posted an extensive list of apparently every training certificate the teacher had accumulated. I think this is how certificates can be abused to mislead the unknowing. Breadth of attendance at seminars does not necessarily translate into depth of ability.

There are also many who claim to be part of a "lineage" which I do not consider to be a certification but rather a setting of an expectation. Advertising one's lineage may impress the unknowing, however, in itself, one's lineage is not an assessment of one's skill level. I used to belong to the camp that valued one's Tai Chi lineage until I woke up to this dark truth about the lineage claimers.

For me, the central question regarding Tai Chi teacher certification is, "Certified at what level to teach Tai Chi at what level?"

Even though a certified and lineaged Tai Chi teacher may have a long-standing, reputable and profitable Tai Chi school, and may have published books and videos on Tai Chi, and may have even won Tai Chi push hands and/or sparring competitions, and may have enough certificates to wallpaper a lavatory, this does not in itself mean that s/he can demonstrate or teach internal strength skills and full body connection which I consider to be the hallmark of real Tai Chi.

It happens that long-time certified teachers remain stuck at an amateur level and their advanced students remain stuck at the same level no matter how advanced they are in that teacher's system. On the other hand, a certified teacher may be "professional level" and provide advanced students higher level instruction and yet, according to the current ACTQA criteria, these two certified instructors could appear to be equal.

I applaud the efforts of the ATCQA and all involved to establish a baseline, third-party certification. However, a huge downside for me is that their certifying criteria (as of this writing) is based solely on counting hours in training or teaching and counting reference letters. There is absolutely no criteria involving an independent exam of academic knowledge nor assessment of skill level in specific skill sets.

I would like to see certification levels that get beyond counting hours and reference letters and gets into distinguishing functional skill levels such as:

Demonstrated skill in sinking/dropping.
Demonstrated skill in whole-body connection; internal strength.

I think by establishing certification levels based on functional skills would help distinguish teachers from masters and could provide a training path for those teachers who want to advance to master class certification.

However, there are probably issues to resolve like, finding the rare individual who has whole-body connection/internal strength and who would participate in assessing those interested in advanced certification.

And then too, there is probably little interest in establishing a certification level based on skill level because many "masters" may find themselves demoted to advanced teacher status.

What are your thoughts on the pros and cons of certifying Tai Chi teachers? What do you consider to be essential skill sets? How would you test and distinguish skill levels in these skill sets? I'd love to hear from you.

Survey of Tai Chi Chuan in the United States

You are invited to complete the online survey: Survey Measuring the Spread of Tai Chi in the United States. Your participation in this landmark survey should take less than 5-10 minutes to complete. This survey was opened on July 10, 2011 and will end on Dec 29, 2011. (Link to survey removed after survey period.)

This survey was designed by Mr. Jie Zhang as part of his Ph.D. research at the Beijing Sport University (北京体育大学). His major area of focus is Chinese Traditional Martial Arts: Theory and Practice.

I met Mr. Zhang this past summer at the University of Michigan where he is a scholar in residence. During his one year stay in the U.S., he is visiting martial arts schools and classes across the country interviewing masters, teachers and students.

If he receives over 1,000 unique survey responses from students and teachers in the USA, he may submit a summary article of the survey results to T'ai Chi Magazine for possible publication. Could be very interesting! (T'ai Chi Magazine discontinued publishing after the death of its founder, publisher, and editor Marvin Smalheiser in October of 2016.)

Be part of this project! Time is limited!

And... Let's help him spread the word to all the U.S. Tai Chi teachers and students! Share this survey link with friends through Twitter, email, Facebook, your website.

Take this Tai Chi survey now: Survey Measuring the Spread of Tai Chi in the United States. Be sure to click the "Submit - Finish Survey" button at the bottom of the survey when you finish. (Link to survey removed after survey period.)

Chinese Martial Arts Without The Qi

As I was reading the book "A Brief History of Qi", I realized a broader and deeper "a-ha" understanding of Qi. I realized that:

• There is no single, one-size-fits-all English translation for Qi.
• Trying to figure out and understand or feel Qi is a waste of time.
• I don't need to "get" qi to excel in Chinese martial arts.

Let me explain.

First, I both liked and didn't like "A Brief History of Qi". What I liked was it was an attempt to explain Qi in broader terms of its linguistic, historical and cultural nativity. (Many other books I've read merely offer a simple, ungrounded translation.) What I didn't like was its complete lack of adherence to academic standards: no footnotes, no citations. There is a one page bibliography.

Second, I found the book seemed to "go deeper" in the chapters on literature, philosophy, and art but "got shallow" in the chapters on qi-gong and martial arts. This may be due to my having read a lot about qi-gong and martial arts and not so much about literature and art. So, with this in mind...

Qi is an element of the Chinese worldview. References to Qi appear in philosophy, literature, calligraphy, art, medicine, exercise and martial arts as well as in daily life and colloquial sayings. There are many contexts in which this word is used and so, the word has many nuances of meaning.

Trying to compress a fundamental and widely used element of an entire cultural worldview into a single foreign word or phrase (that also carries its own cultural meanings), results in an abysmal gap in understanding and quaint and erroneous translations. Life force, spiritual energy, energy, air, or breath may be somewhat correct in one context but ridiculously wrong in another.

Here's a for instance...

Consider our English word, "weather" which in Chinese is, tiān qì ( 天氣 or 天气 ) which translates as sky or heaven (tiān;天) and xxx (qì;气)

Chinese think of weather as Sky"Qi". This combination of "sky" and "qi" understands "Qi" at play in the sky. An American understanding of the word "weather" may think in terms of warm and cold fronts or high and low pressure systems. We don't have it in our cultural worldview to think of weather as sky "qi".

And when I asked my Chinese source if Chinese think of tiān qì as the "breath of heaven" (honest to God, this is one translation I saw), she wrinkled up her nose and said, "No. Breath (qì xī ; 氣息 or 气息) has nothing to do with weather."

And the list of Chinese words that include the word "qi" goes on and on and on...

In the New World Encyclopedia entry for "Qi", the section titled, "Similar Concepts in Other Cultures" prefaces the list with the following (italics added for emphasis):

The concept of a life-energy inherent in all living beings seems to be a fairly universal archetype, and appears in numerous religious and metaphysical systems. As always, these similarities represent points of correspondence (not identity) and should be thoughtfully evaluated in their own contexts before using them as a basis for any essentialistic conclusions.

The Chinese include Qi in their worldview and Americans do not and that's OK. It is a huge chasm in worldviews and that's OK. In my opinion at this time, this is one chasm that does not need to be bridged and for us enthusiasts of the Chinese martial arts, we are better off not laboring to figure out our own understanding of Qi.

We do not need to learn the Qi aspect of the Chinese worldview to develop higher level skills. I say this from experience of wasting years in this pursuit.

We do however need to look at the body functionally. What are the Chinese martial art masters physically doing? How do you understand and explain that physical function in your own worldview? How do you replicate that physical skill in your own body?

So the next time someone asks, "What is qi?", tell 'em, "Qi is qi."

Happy practicing everyone!

Tai Chi Memories: Bob Klein and the Long Island School of Tai Chi Chuan

The Long Island School of Tai Chi Chuan formed my first experience in learning Tai Chi Chuan as a martial art. I was a formal student of Bob Klein's from the fall of 1984 to the summer of 1988 when I moved away for my first trip to China.

In the fall of 1984, during my sophomore year at college,SUNY Stony Brook, I saw a flyer in the student Union for the Long Island School of Tai Chi Chuan which advertised Tai chi as a martial art. (For the back-story see my article: My First Tai Chi: Sophia Delza Wu Style.)

When I called inquiring about classes, I was invited to an upcoming school party. And so... my first experience with this school was participating in a "Taoist Forest Wine Ceremony".

The "Taoist Forest Wine Ceremony" involved all adults in attendance, which was maybe about 30 people that day. We sat in a large circle on the lawn outside the school, each with a glass of wine. We took turns going around the circle saying something we were thankful for. This was followed by a hearty "Ho!" and everyone taking a sip of wine. This continued until all the glasses and bottles were empty and everyone was overflowing with thankfulness! And as I learned later, this was a fair introduction to the temperament of the school: easy-going and prone to laughter.

Kungfu Magazine.com has an e-zine article, a kind of mini- Tai chi autobiography by Bob Klein titled: Animal Fighting and Animal Chi-Gung. I suggest you read this so you gain an insight into the influences on Bob's approach to Tai Chi Chuan. Bob's primary Tai Chi teacher was Grandmaster William C.C. Chen.

When I started classes, Bob gave me a booklet he wrote titled, "May I Have Your Attention, Please". (Does anyone still have a copy of this?) Then his first major book came out, Movements of Magic: The Spirit of Tai-Chi Chuan (1984). He began filming his first videos during the time I was there. His "Zookineses" was there is spirit but was not yet named nor codified.

Once each summer, Bob would bring out a six foot boa constrictor or two to push-hands class and we'd practice "pushing hands" with the boa, feeling the fine, wave-like muscular movements of this big snake.

Feel how human muscular movement is coarser than the snake's. How can you apply the strength and power of the snake's movements in push hands?

I remember during these sessions that we'd also practice snake staring. Getting nose to nose, eye to eye with a boa is an amazing experience even if it was "tame" and used to human contact!

One experience I vividly remember during one of these sessions was asking Bob, "Am I seeing a deeper wisdom in the snake or is the snake reflecting my own deeper wisdom back to me?" The answer he gave was, "You'll have to figure that out yourself." Working with large snakes in this way is an experience that has stuck with me.

Bob used to encourage us to watch and imitate animal movements. I spent a lot of time in the woods behind my dormitory practicing forms and observing the small animals. I even made a few trips to the Bronx Zoo. Most interesting was observing monkeys playing with momentum as they'd swing from branch to branch, up and down, and around and around. My girlfriend at that time had cats which I enjoyed observing and learning from. I would then try to bring the movement qualities of these different animals into my form, push-hands and sparring.

Bob wasn't one for teaching or drilling individual mechanical techniques or applications like I remember from Judo class or Chin-na seminars at the Tai Chi Farm. Rather, I remember the focus was on learning a way to move and blend and flow.

Regarding sparring, as Bob says, he learned fighting from William and then flavored that with animal movement. I wish I could find an old clip of William sparring to be able to compare apples to apples.

Bob tended to keep the temperament of sparring classes light-hearted, more game-like than competitive or war-like. Occasionally tempers flared but we worked through it. Sparring was like an extension of free-style push-hands but with boxing gloves. In sparring, like push hands, he emphasized looking for gaps and openings, appearing and disappearing, striking where the opponent wasn't paying attention; avoiding or brushing aside incoming punches and kicks while simultaneously delivering a punch or kick.

Here are a couple clips of William C.C. Chen instructing push hands. I learned these exact same exercises and body movements in Bob's classes.

William C. C. Chen

I remember Bob teaching us these exact same push hands lessons of yielding.

William C.C. Chen

Now, this first clip is from Bob's video, Chinese Kickboxing, 1987, which is now a two DVD set. Bob is instructing Joe and Rick. I was operating the camera. Notice the same push hands principles at work in these sparring exercises. A walk down memory lane for me...

Sparring Practice with Tai Chi Chuan students

This following clip was filmed after I left the school. However, this clip shows (in slow motion) what our beginning sparring classes looked like. Taken from his DVD Internal Energy in the Martial Arts.

Tai Chi Students Sparring

We were a great bunch of steady, long-term students all of whom I really enjoyed! Here's a photo of our "core group" in 1988. We all played forms, push-hands and sparring together. Where are they now?

(author's personal photo)

Many of us also participated in various activities outside of school as well. We attended the summer Tai-chi Farm festivals in up-state New York. We went in to William's school for a T.T. Liang workshop. We did fire walks and multiple sweat lodges with Bill Elwell (Native American Indian Sacred Purification Sweat Lodge Ceremony) in some very scenic settings.

By the time I left the school I had learned the 60 movement Yang form as pictured in the 1983 book: William C.C. Chen's Tai Chi Chuan. I also learned fixed step push-hands forms, fixed step free-style push-hands, free style sparring and a Tai Chi sword form. In addition, I learned spear, staff, monkey, and mantis forms from a relative of William's whom Bob invited out from New York City on Saturday afternoons.

Toward the end of my time on Long Island, I spent some time hanging out with Ralph and Frank outside of class. On occasion, we'd polish off a half bottle of Tequila and spend hours practicing push hands which at times got really fast. Sometimes we'd stop and laugh in amazement at how our bodies responded before the mind had time to process what was happening, "Wow! Did you see that?" I was pretty impressed with the skills I had developed!

Later after leaving the school, I encountered players from many schools including other Tai-chi styles, Xing-yi, Ba-gua, Yi-Chuan and also my now longtime teacher and friend, Rick, who I've watched develop the Wujifa system. Through meeting and practicing with other people from other disciplines, I slowly came to realize that I had more to learn about internal strength and internal connectedness.

Getting back to the "Taoist Forest Wine Ceremony".... I am thankful for the unique experiences and all I learned from Bob and my classmates at the Long Island School of Tai Chi Chuan, particularly, I'm thankful I learned how to tap into an element that has imbued my Tai Chi with a qualitative smoothness and flow that I notice is lacking in many other Tai Chi players.

Snakes, cats, and monkeys...

Tai-Chi Memories: My Meeting with Gabriel Chin

In the mid-1990's, after I returned to Michigan from my first trip to China, and before I began training with The School of Cultivation and Practice, I periodically joined Gabriel Chin's group and also practiced push-hands with a couple of his students.

On one occasion, after a practice session, Gabriel invited a few of us students, Bruce, another fellow whose name I don't remember now, and myself, to his home. While there Gabriel answered our questions about Tai-chi, Qi and Qigong.

The most memorable experience of this visit was when he demonstrated the difference between limp, muscle and Qi.

He held out his hand and said, "Squeeze my hand. This is limp." I squeezed and his hand compressed in mine. He then said, "Squeeze my hand. This is strength." I squeezed and his hand felt hard, not compressing, but more like a firm hand-shake. He then said, "Squeeze my hand. This is Qi." I squeezed but could not. It felt like his hand had filled with something. It appeared relaxed but was not limp. It was solid but not hard. It was more like a gel balloon where the harder I squeezed, the less I could squeeze.

Each of us took our turns squeezing his "three hands" and needless to say, we were awed and inspired to ask more questions. At this writing, I can't remember what those questions or answers were but the memory of his openness to sharing and teaching has stuck with me.

I've not yet been able to do what he demonstrated to us that day. I am where I am and that's OK. Maybe one day that quality will show up as a by-product of my practice.

* * * * * * * *

If you'd like to learn more about Gabriel Chin, check out the following resources:

Nei Jia Quan: Internal Martial Arts Teachers of Tai Ji Quan, Xing Yi Quan, and Ba Gua Zhang [Paperback], Jess O'Brien (Editor) 2004. See Chapter 2, "Gabriel Chin".


Gabriel Chin T'ai Chi DVD

Gabriel Ching Chin, who for decades held open-air T'ai Chi sessions on the University of Michigan campus, died Monday, March 28, 2005 at age of 84. Chin led the sessions at the Cube in front of the U-M Administration Building several times a week in all kinds of weather, canceling only for rainstorms. This class is free in the absolute sense anyone can join in, he said in 1994. There's no charge, no roll call and no uniform. He also was a poet, singer, a fine cook and an interpreter of Chinese.

See a clip of Gabriel Chin's Tai-chi form and stories.

Regrets of the Dying and Zhan Zhuang Practice

In the middle of doing my Wujifa Zhan Zhuang standing practice the other morning, the morning radio DJs ran down a list of the Regrets of the Dying by Bronnie Ware.

How do these regrets speak to me? To me, the theme of these regrets revolves around feeling and connecting.

I came from a place where I was pretty emotionally shut down and disengaged. My desire to develop internal strength led me to practice Wujifa zhan zhuang which has pushed me to feel (feeling kinesthetics, feeling emotions), and to connect (connecting kinesthetically, connecting emotionally).

Here is an excerpt from her article:

People grow a lot when they are faced with their own mortality. I learnt never to underestimate someone's capacity for growth. Some changes were phenomenal. Each experienced a variety of emotions, as expected, denial, fear, anger, remorse, more denial and eventually acceptance. Every single patient found their peace before they departed though, every one of them.

When questioned about any regrets they had or anything they would do differently, common themes surfaced again and again. Here are the most common five:

1. I wish I'd had the courage to live a life true to myself, not the life others expected of me.
2. I wish I didn't work so hard.
3. I wish I'd had the courage to express my feelings.
4. I wish I had stayed in touch with my friends.
5. I wish that I had let myself be happier.

(Bronnie has since published these as Top Five Regrets of the Dying: A Life Transformed by the Dearly Departing)

I resonated more with items 1, 3, and 5 than with 2 and 4. How about you?

I'm glad I heard about this list now as I was certainly on the road to having these same regrets. It's been a difficult road for me to walk this road of feeling and connecting but I'm finding life is more interesting and in a different way as I slowly change from being zombie-like to being more alive.

Feel and connect!

Happy practicing everyone!

Dr. Love's Qigong Rap

Here's a fun introductory rap video about Qigong that a friend sent to me the other day...

If you've been following my blog, you know I rant about never having developed the Tai-chi internal strength from following a Qigong mindset.

I remember Grand Master Chen Xiaowang adjusting my arm position at a silk reeling seminar to a more relaxed, extending position at which point I noticed the feeling changed and he said, "Ah, Qi flowing." He then adjusted it again, "Ah, Qi not flowing." Two different feelings. I like to keep it grounded there.

I think of "Qi" as being a Chinese cultural frame of reference with so many embedded cultural allusions that there are no intelligent cultural equivalents in "the west". Even though many people accept the common linguistic translation of "Qi" as meaning "energy", the problem arises when they apply their own cultural filters and market hype to this word. From my experience, the resultant cross-cultural ambiguity can create misunderstandings which are better to be avoided.

Experience the feeling of "Qi flowing" and then label that feeling: relaxed but not limp, or with intention but not tense, or whatever descriptors spring to mind in your local dialect. If it helps, think of "Qi" as the local dialect word used in China. Nothing more, nothing less.

If people need to do something "special" or need to feel they are "special" or like to wear "special" clothes while doing whatever it is that promotes their health, then that's a good thing.

Dr Love raps, "This is why I do Qigong"

Dancing Qigong Rap and instructions as introduction to Qigong. Dr. Love is lineage holder of Lung Qing Qigong aka Blue Dragon Immortal Qigong. He is Master of Blue Dragon Qigong since 1994. George Xavier Love is a Doctor of Oriental Medicine from Ju Shi Lin Daoist Scholars Council in Beijing under Master Li Bing Yuan aka Prof. John B.Y. Lee.

Battle for the Soul of Internal Gong Fu

The March 2011 issue of National Geographic magazine has an article titled: "Battle for the Soul of Kung Fu" by Peter Gwin; pages 95-113 of the hardcopy.


What I found interesting while reading this article was how the same could be said about the current state of the internal martial arts, namely, Tai-chi chuan:

"Shaolin kung fu is designed for combat, not to entertain audiences. It is hard to convince boys to spend many years learning something that won't make them wealthy or famous."

To read the full article, please see Battle for the Soul of Kung Fu at the National Geographic website. (This article was subsequently put behind a pay wall.)

It seems to me that the internal gong fu styles, Tai-chi chuan, Ba-gua chuan and Xing-yi chuan, have fallen into the same predicament. While it is true that Tai-chi has become a mainstream commercial success, that success has come with a price; Tai-chi chuan was stripped of its soul, of what made it the "Grand Ultimate" fist.

Since I began nearly thirty years ago, there has been a fairly steady increase in the amount of high level expertise made routinely available and accessible from the traveling masters' annual world tours to the various training opportunities in China. Given all this, you would think that the world would now be absolutely flush with internal gong fu practitioners demonstrating high level skills in internal strength/effortless power.

And yet, is it so? How many of those who have trained with real masters actually develop the internal strength that put the "Tai-chi" in Tai-chi chuan? 80%? 50%? 10%? 1%? (I would venture to guess the number is pretty low. But to be fair, I haven't been out much lately.)

I suspect that those who have trained with real masters are generally not seeking advice and direction regarding their individual practice of developing internal strength but rather are looking to be spoon fed morsels of their "brand".

What I am learning is that, gong fu is not something that can be given nor acquired through mimicry. You have to earn it. You have to know what you want and you have to be working on it. You have to take ownership of it. Once you are walking on this road, you begin figuring out your own body. You encounter and learn about your own internal adversaries. You begin figuring out the feeling. You begin figuring out the truly relevant questions.

Then when you get access to a real master, ask your questions as, "I want to feel how X feels. Show me in my body." Don't get stuck talking philosophy. Talk is cheap. Experiencing "the feeling" is pure gold. You may need to request (and pay for) an hour of private class to get what you want.

Ultimately, the battle for the soul of internal gong fu is a battle inside yourself. Are you going to continue being spoon fed your "kung fu" or are you really going to start walking your own gong fu path?

The expertise is available. They are giving the audience what the audience wants and is willing to pay for. What do you want?

Be really, really honest about your practice. How deeply can you feel and understand the fundamentals? What can you demonstrate?

Here's the paradox; the deeper you feel and understand the basic, boring, fundamentals, the higher the level the skill you develop. The more "higher level" skills you are taught, the lower the level skill you actually wind up with.

As we say in Wujifa, "You are where you are and that's where you start."

Get started... today!

In Memory of Erle Montaigue (1949-2011)

With sadness I learned of the passing of Erle Montaigue last month. Although I never personally trained with him, I consider him one of my Tai chi teachers.

Back in my initiate phase of my Tai chi practice in the mid-1980s, while with the Long Island School of Tai chi Chuan, I found and purchased a few of Erle's books which showed the Yang Lu-chan Tai chi form and push hands forms. I remember learning his form from these books.

Fast forward to somewhere between 1999-2001 as the internet started growing, I searched and found (what is now) his Erle Montaigue's Taiji World website. I remember having a difficult time navigating and finding whatever it was I was looking for and so I emailed him asking if I could re-organize his site and improve navigation. My effort was strictly voluntary as I had hoped to use my work on his site in my portfolio to later generate paying web work. This was our agreement.

Over the course of the next few months we continued emailing as the web work continued. And then one day, quite unexpectedly, packages from Australia started showing up in my mailbox. Erle was sending me his VHS tapes!

When I asked (emailed) Erle about this, he said something like, it's only fair. By the end of the project, he sent me a total of 30 videos on Tai chi, Dim-mak, Bagua, Push hands, and Qigong! Fast forward another ten years, now you can find clips of Erles videos on YouTube.

Well, my final design didn't stay up too long. Each time I checked-in at his site over the following years, I found a different layout. Never one to sit still...

Since those days, I've had it on my "To do" list to meet this teacher and gentleman. Ah, well...

So even though I never made it to Australia or U.K. nor to a seminar here in the U.S., to meet or train with him in person, I did learn a lot from him. His generosity changed my understanding and perspective of Tai chi as a martial art. For this, I am thankful.

Rest in Peace, Erle. My condolences to his family.

Further reading:

The Hung Gar Kung-fu site, Why is Erle Montaigue so Famous has a nice biography.

My First Tai Chi: Sophia Delza Wu Style

The very first Tai chi style I learned was Sophia Delza's Wu style. A big "Thank You" to Rick at Cook Ding's Kitchen for posting Taijiquan Pioneer: Sophia Delza which brought to mind how I started on the Tai chi road...

I first learned of Tai chi from reading The Massage Book by George Downing which I picked up in 1982. I remember this well because this had something to do with a girlfriend. (That's another story...)

When I started college in the Fall of 1983, I saw a Tai chi class offered as a one credit course through the Religious Studies Department. The instructor was Prof. Neville, one of the department's professors and one of Sophia Delza's students. So I excitedly signed up for this!

The class met twice a week on Tuesday and Thursday from about 3:30 - 5:00 p.m. in the dance studio which I really enjoyed; a nice place and time to unwind. The entire form was taught in the Fall semester. I remember:

• The emphasis was on learning the form, learning "coordination points" and appreciating the elegance of the gestures.

• The length of the form left me feeling relaxed and energized. (I never realized a similar feeling with any of the "short forms" I later learned.)

• We had to write a paper on how our experience with Tai-chi helped us better understand Chinese philosophical cosmology.... or something like that.

• There was the concept that you should finish the form where you started. If you don't, then your ego is either too big or too small (taking too large or too small of steps). Balance.

In that Fall class, one my classmates was a student of Karate. In talking with him, he demonstrated how a lot of Tai chi moves were similar to karate and so to him Tai chi was one kind of kung-fu. This piqued my curiosity in Tai chi as a martial art.

Still being new to the area and not knowing what else was around, I signed up for the "advanced" Tai chi class the following Winter semester. This class focused on postural fine-tuning but never got into any martial aspects. While I enjoyed the "space" and feel of the class, I became disappointed with the focus. I also took my first and only Judo class that Winter term.

As I settled into college life and the area, I started looking for nearby martial art schools. In those days, SUNY Stony Brook was literally in the middle of nowhere in the middle of Long Island, NY. Sure, I checked out dojos in New York City, Brooklyn and Queens, but to a cash-strapped college student, the class rates and schedules and the nearly two-hour train, subway, bus, walking commute and fares each way made this option prohibitive for long-term study. I looked for something more affordable and closer.

And no, I never considered transferring to another university just to be closer to one of those dojos.

Sometime during the following Fall term of 1984, I saw a flyer in the student Union for the Long Island School of Tai Chi Chuan which advertised Tai chi as a martial art. I checked it out. The rates were less than half of what the dojos in the city were charging and it was a close 10 minute drive and the lineage looked reputable; Cheng Man-ching, William C.C. Chen. I attended a free introductory class and it all looked good to me. And so I switched from practicing Sophia Delza's Wu style Tai chi to learning Yang style Tai chi.

Of course, there are lots of stories from my time with the Long Island School of Tai Chi Chuan. Maybe in another post.

Finally, regarding my blogger Bio, because this Wu style was not martially-oriented, I chose to not include this in my "About me" and opted to say I began my "martial journey" with Judo. (If I wanted to continue past the yellow belt in Judo, I would've had to attend the instructor's dojo in Queens. So I "switched out" of Judo to Tai chi.)

And that's how I got started in Tai chi...

For further reading:
T'Ai Chi Ch'Uan (Wu Style : Body and Mind in Harmony : Integration of Meaning and Method) by Sophia Delza (1986). Introduction by Prof. Robert C. Neville.

The T'Ai-Chi Ch'Uan Experience: Reflections and Perceptions on Body-Mind Harmony by Sophia Delza (1996). Edited by Prof. Robert C. Neville.

Guide to the Sophia Delza Papers, 1908-1996 at the New York Public Library

The Sofia Delza Obituary from 1996.

Fibromyalgia: Is Tai Chi the Prescription?

As of this writing, a search on Tai chi and Fibromyalgia yielded a lot of sites referencing the August 2010 New England Journal of Medicine study, A Randomized Trial of Tai Chi for Fibromyalgia as if this study proved that Tai chi is a prescription for fibromyalgia! Wow!

You may want to read my article Tai Chi: Where We Are and a Hope for the Future where I discussed this study's misguided reference to not having a "sham Tai chi" control group.

In the same NEJM edition that had the "Tai chi for Fibromyalgia" study, there was also an editorial titled Prescribing Tai Chi for Fibromyalgia — Are We There Yet? (N Engl J Med 2010; 363:783-784 August 19, 2010).

Unfortunately, it seems that the same sort of mindset that promotes Tai chi as an alternative health exercise is using this study to promote Tai chi as a prescription for fibromyalgia while wholly ignoring an accompanying editorial.

As I read the editorial, I found the last two paragraphs to be the most pertinent and copied them here. I split these paragraphs into sections to accommodate

my comments which appear in italics.

********
The authors state that they tried to minimize any a priori differences between expectations for tai chi and the control intervention, which consisted of stretching and health education, and they report that expectations in the two groups were similar at baseline. However, it seems likely that when a persuasive and enthusiastic teacher of tai chi first explained its potential benefits to the class, expectations in this group were heightened.

Maybe a future study needs to add a control for selling snake oil. Real Taiji instruction can be conveyed without the verbal hype.

The authors dutifully suggest that a sham tai chi intervention would have been desirable as a control. Ideally, a placebo control matches all aspects of the therapeutic intervention except for the “active” element of that intervention.

As I said in my article Tai Chi: Where We Are and a Hope for the Future, this study in fact used sham tai chi. For a future study, the placebo control could be any slow motion sequence of movements. You could re-choreograph Swan Lake, a karate kata or a Michael Jackson routine. No tai chi form in and of itself contains any active therapeutic intervention! That said, real Taiji does contain an "active" element however, this active element: can be developed outside of any Taiji form, can exist a-priori to any sequence of movements, can appear in any movement, not just in Taiji.

But what is the active element of a complex, multicomponent therapy such as tai chi?

Good question! First, real Taiji is neither complex nor is it multicomponent. Second, the "active element" in real Taiji is a particular kinesthetic phenomena for which our American English language lacks words to articulate. Some people use the Chinese "Qi" paradigm, but this does not contribute to clarifying the kinesthetic experience in plain English. The best we can do for now is offer analogies; it feels like...

Is it rhythmic exercise, deliberate and deep breathing, contemplative concentration, group support, relaxing imagery, a charismatic teacher, or some synergistic combination of these elements?

Unequivocally and absolutely NO! It is none of the above for the real Taiji.

It's basically like this. The old "New Age" folks co-opted the shell of something they couldn't understand and repackaged that shell with a lot of other unrelated material like breath work, contemplation, imagery, a compelling backstory bound to legend, antiquity and nature, etc., and Voila! Tai chi was born and foisted on the masses.
Established medicine is right to be skeptical of popular Tai chi. That said, nearly everyone is ignorant of the real Taiji skill set and the training involved to develop that skill set.
Learning real Taiji is so much simpler, yet in the simplicity is hidden its depth and difficulty. (Not complexity! Difficulty!) The simplicity is consciously relaxing musculature with a particular intention. The difficulty is training the depth.

If so, would the matched control include awkward movements, halted breathing, participant isolation, unpleasant imagery, or a tepid teacher? Would the resulting sham intervention be credible, valid, or even genuinely inactive?

No. This line of thought is an example of the result of the mistake of inches; assuming the correct practice is a complex, multicomponent practice, and assuming the matched control must be the opposite. This is the wrong road!

Actually, the opposite of real Taiji is pretty much the way most people walk around in their usual day-to-day business which is pretty much how sham Tai chi is performed. People walk into a rec-sports or adult-ed or dojo class or seminar and learn a series of movements and stay pretty much stuck at this level for however many years they continue practicing. Some go on to be teachers and the cycle repeats itself.

Instead of embarking on a quixotic search for the ideal sham, what else needs to be done and what is a reasonable course of action for the physician who must counsel the patient with fibromyalgia?

Again, the popularized form of Tai chi is the sham version of real Taiji. So you've already found the ideal sham in Tai chi. No "quixotic search" needed. Regarding counseling patients with fibromyalgia, I cannot comment.

For next steps, we need replications of this study on a larger scale over longer periods of time, with different practitioners and different styles at multiple sites; determination of the optimal “dose”; comparisons with similar therapies such as yoga; and an assessment of cost-effectiveness.

Hooray! And before you set up your study, please do your homework!

Seek first to learn and understand the distinction between real Taiji and sham Tai chi!!!
The real Taiji people are in the minority. And in a field where anyone can claim to be a master, well, it becomes difficult to discern who's the real deal and who's using lineage as a front for selling snake oil.
Beware of seeking out different styles for the sake of diversity! Sham Tai chi can be found in all styles!
From my experience, yoga and real Taiji are not similar.

In the end, however, it may be that further evidence in support of tai chi for fibromyalgia, even if consistently positive, will never be as fully convincing as the results of double-blind pharmaceutical trials.

I don't know. I think this is a valid concern.

It is also possible that future studies will not replicate the dramatic findings of this small trial12 and that not all patients with fibromyalgia will find tai chi acceptable or available.

The training involved to achieve even a beginners level of real Taiji is probably way beyond what the ordinary person who signs up for a clinical trial would be willing to engage in and follow-through on. While sham Tai chi has become somewhat available, accessing training in real Taiji is like finding a needle in a haystack.

Even so, the potential efficacy and lack of adverse effects now make it reasonable for physicians to support patients' interest in exploring these types of exercises, even if it is too early to take out a prescription pad and write “tai chi.”

Agreed. If people are getting some health benefit from sham Tai chi, well, good for them! It's also good to go for a walk...

Tai Chi: Where We Are and a Hope for the Future

Tai Chi just passed a watershed point in its thirty or so year history in the United States. Tai-chi made its debut in the August edition of the New England Journal of Medicine (N Engl J Med 2010;363:743-54) in a study titled, "A Randomized Trial of Tai Chi for Fibromyalgia".

My how times have changed!!! Remember how it was even 20 years ago where Tai chi was still largely unknown, still a novelty. I remember learning Tai chi in the mid-1980s and being labeled "kooky", and getting odd looks from passersby. Indeed, how times have changed!!

The New York Times ran an article in August 2010 titled Tai Chi Reported to Ease Fibromyalgia and another in September 2010 titled A Downside to Tai Chi? None That I See. Both of these articles reference the New England Journal of Medicine study.

Even though this is a HUGE milestone, I found a sentence in the Discussion section of the study to be very informative of the current perceptions of Tai chi:

"Our study had some limitations. We did not use a double-blind study design, since this would have required the use of sham tai chi, for which no validated approach currently exists."

And this September New York Times article also echoed the above sentiment:

"There is no “fake” version that could serve as a proper control to be tested against the real thing."

Well . . . .

I think that the participants in the study actually learned the fake tai chi, or sham tai chi.

(Note: in the real internal martial arts community, the term "Tai chi" typically refers to the fake stuff and the term, "Taiji" typically refers to the real stuff.)

Based on my past experience as a beginning tai chi student and as a former tai chi instructor, I know that most students aren't capable of learning real Taiji with only 24 hours of Tai chi instruction. (The study indicated a 1 hour session, twice a week for 12 weeks.) I'm sure the study participants could roughly imitate several basic external movements with that amount of exposure, but probably not much more.

To me, real Taiji is played with internal connectedness, which is experienced by an opponent or partner as "internal strength". Remember, Taiji is an internal martial art.

IF Taiji is not played with this unique kinesthetic quality, then it is fake Tai chi, faux Tai chi, sham Tai chi, Tai chi dance, Tai chi exercise, moving meditation or whatever you want to call it, but it's not real Taiji.

I am discovering through personal observation and experience at the Wujifa school that developing a basic level of internal strength seems to take about three years of serious, focused zhan zhuang work along with other specific practices tailored to the individual.

Therefore I conclude that it is highly improbable that a group of beginners would be able to perform REAL Taiji after a mere 24 hours of instruction!

So where are we? Fake Tai chi has been popularized complete with its own propriety language. And now a distinguished medical journal is lending a new level of recognition and credibility to fake Tai chi without knowing their mistake. And that's OK. We are where we are and that's where we start.

If the perspective expressed in this study is any representation of the population as a whole, I think that most people cannot distinguish sham Tai chi from real Taiji. Why is this? Because the only "Tai chi" that has been popularized and adopted by the masses in the United States is the sham Tai chi. So of course, people get fooled into "thinking" they are "seeing" real Taiji and consequently make misguided statements that there is no fake version of Tai chi.

Here are excerpts from an excellent article by Ken Gullette titled: There is No Such Thing as Easy Tai Chi

This is one of the reasons I get annoyed when I see ads that promise "easy tai chi." Those who have studied with the true masters can tell you that there is absolutely no such thing. Fake tai chi might be easy. The health type of tai chi for "moving meditation" might be easy. Tai Chi for senior citizens might be easy.

Real tai chi is a powerful martial art. It is very difficult and takes years of practice to even begin to see proper body mechanics. No pain, no gain. That's a phrase you don't hear in the "easy tai chi" classes.

I've had students come to me after studying other styles of martial arts. Most of them don't last long. They see how difficult it is, and they can't adjust to the fact that THIS TAKES YEARS, not months or weeks.

My hope for the future of "Tai chi" in the U.S. is that over the next 20 years we see the development of the recognition of the difference between real Taiji and the watered down popular version. I personally do not see real Taiji ever becoming as popular as nor replacing fake Tai chi because I think developing real Taiji requires far more commitment than most people are willing to put in.

What would be interesting would be a longitudinal study of the effect on fibromyalgia on a group (of dedicated souls) learning real Taiji as compared to a group learning the popularized fake Tai chi. You can do a double-blind study. You just need to know where to look to find the real stuff.

Musings on My Zhan Zhuang Practice

Your Zhan Zhuang practice can either be a dead post practice or a living, evolving practice.

In a recent trip to northern Michigan, during my Zhan Zhuang practice early one morning while the dew was wet on the grass and bird song complimenting the tranquility, I noticed elements of my surroundings that could visually represent my Zhan Zhuang practice and so I snapped the below photograph.

There is a dead post connected by an "Indra's Net" to another dead post. Yet this faux Indra's Net does not contain a jewel at the intersections and does not reflect any other jewel. Yes, there is a connection, just as the body is mechanically connected, but the connectedness is not alive and not connected to life.

The dead post rests in, and yet is on the edge of the shadows, where seeing and feeling is difficult, where there is confusion, where there is the seed of learning and growing, of emerging into the light.

There is a living, growing tree. Begun as a seed, growing the seed, new growth emerging in this spring summer season. The base of the tree is obscured. Where exactly is the foundation of the tree? I see no roots, yet it stands tall. It moves, yet is immovable. It is connected.

It looks like "Indra's Net" connects the dead post to the living tree, but upon closer viewing there is no connection. The tree, the growing the seed, is independent of the connected dead posts. It is outside the system of dead posts and what connects these dead posts each to the other.

And there am I. A shadow of my self. In the picture, yet not fully present in the picture. On the same plane as the dead post and the growing seed. Closer to the dead post, but not the dead post. Seeing the tree, yet not the tree. Noticing both the dead post and the seed growing. Transitioning.

How would you visually represent your practice?

When a Tree Grows: External ~ Internal

I planted a seedling in a field near my house.

The place where this tree grew had a steady breeze and sometimes a brisk wind.

The tree tends to lean a bit.

And then the old barn fell down changing the wind pattern.

As the tree grew, it encountered a low hanging limb from an old dead tree nearby. The young tree grew around that limb and developed a bit of a "hunch" about mid-way up the trunk.

Years later, that old, dead tree was cut down for firewood, leaving only the stump.

Many years later, after the barn and dead tree were gone, a tree guy looked at the now mature tree and analyzing the tree, said:

That lean looks like lean I've seen in other trees. There must have been a lot of shade here and the young tree was leaning toward the light.

That hunch looks like the hunch I've seen in other trees. Looks like something fell on it which someone later removed.

I enjoyed watching the tree grow, noticing... the process…

The tree guy approached the tree analytically, identifying data points, comparing…

When I started practicing Zhan Zhuang in the Wujifa system, I “naturally” compared this new system to systems I learned before: What’s the same? What’s different? What’s the data?

But I did not “naturally’ learn this way when I was young, when there was no previous experience to compare to. I either jumped in with curiosity and excitement or held back in fear.

After years of practicing, then I began learning.

I suppose I can compare external systems; systems based on a collection of forms and techniques like the tree guy did.

However, when I tried to compare my previous experiences in external, technique-based systems (including faux Tai-chi), with an internal feeling-based system, I learned that analysis leads to paralysis, not to progress.

I had to stop analyzing and start feeling kinesthetically. Then I had to stop analyzing "the feeling", because "the feeling" changes. Now, I may be ready to start learning the process.

Musings on Training and Competitions

This past weekend I had the opportunity to sit in the same room with a half dozen guys recounting their martial arts training. Frankly, I was impressed and even intimidated by the breadth and depth of martial arts training some of these guys had; black belts, sometimes in more than one style, competitions, and trophies.

However, when I considered what brought us all to this room, despite all our collective years of experience and belts and trophies (or lack of), none of us through our past training were taught or learned whole-body strength, the internal connections, or groundpath known as internal strength. Suddenly, I didn't feel so intimidated anymore. We all recognized a gap in our training and came together to learn to close that gap, to develop internal connection, to develop whole-body strength.

Later, I wondered about the state of "internal" martial arts training and competition these days, eg., taiji, bagua, xing-yi, aikido, wushu, push-hands. Are competition judges required to demonstrate a level of internal connection, of whole-body strength before becoming judges or not? Are competitors judged on the level of internal connection/whole-body strength they can demonstrate or not?

The "internal" arts are truly not that art unless performed with internal connection, with whole-body strength. If belts are awarded and trophies given for well executed forms and for competency in techniques (all performed without demonstrating internal connection/whole-body strength), doesn't this dilute the art, lower the bar, and mislead the practitioner?

As I learned, I thought I was doing Tai-ji Chuan but in fact, I was merely imitating Tai-ji Chuan by performing only the outward movements because my "Taiji" lacked internal connection/whole-body strength. I've also learned that those who develop internal connection/whole-body strength also develop an eye for seeing who has and doesn't have internal connection and to what level. A real teacher will not only tell you what you are doing wrong but will also guide you in how to develop your internal connectedness. We are all adorned with the Emperors New Clothes.

(The Emperors New Clothes by Danish author Hans Christian Andersen, tells the story of two swindlers who weaved clothes that were invisible to those who were either stupid or unfit for their office. The emperor hired them and the two set up their looms and pretended to weave. After some time, the emperor sent his honest minister to see how they were getting on. When the minister didn't see anything, he did not wanting to appear foolish or unfit for his position and so he exclaimed how wonderful it looked. The same experience befell another trusted official. When the emperor went for a look, he too didn't see anything and wondered if he was a fool and unfit to be emperor. He too went along with the ruse. Finally, the day came when he paraded his new clothes in front of the towns people. A child noticed and said he's not wearing any clothes. Finally, the whole town noticed that he was not wearing any clothes. And yet the emperor carried on as if he was wearing the most magnificent clothes.)

Zhan Zhuang. No Athleticism Required?

Even though Zhan Zhuang looks like simply standing in a manner suggesting there is no athleticism required, in fact, zhan zhuang can be quite demanding athletically.

Nike Commercial 2008

I love watching the flashy forms these athletes display. And while I will never develop flashy forms, zhan zhuang does require a degree of athleticism. How so?

The burning in your legs tests your resolve to remain standing. Do you eat bitter and push on or quit? You learn how to relax certain muscles and engage and strengthen other muscles. Can you remain fully present and in-the-moment when the stillness lulls you to trance-out? Are you committed to practicing, to always seeking your personal best?

Make no mistake. There is more to standing that "just" standing.

The Language of Internal Strength

This post describes my experience (so far) with the language referencing the internal strength for which the martial arts of Tai-chi chuan, Ba-gua Chuan and Xing-yi Chuan are known.

During a typical Wujifa class, the instructor makes hands-on physical adjustments to my Zhan Zhuang stance. The following conversation typically ensues:

Instructor: "How's that?" or "How does that feel?"
Student: It's different.
Instructor: "Different how?"
Student: Uh... Well.... Not the same as before the adjustment.
Instructor: OK. What do you mean?
Student: Uh... Well... I don't know. It's... Like.... Before the adjustment is a “1” and now this is a “2”.

When I started FEELING the kinesthetic feeling from which internal strength develops, I realized that I do not have words in my English lexicon to describe these new kinesthetic feelings. I soon discovered that there is no vocabulary unique to describing the internal kinesthetic feelings as the body mind develops its "internal strength" perception/kinesthetic paradigm from its customary and habitual "external strength" perception/kinesthetic paradigm.

In traditional Chinese martial arts, the word Qi or Chi and Qi flow or Chi flow are used. The problem, as a “westerner” not growing up in Chinese culture, is that I have no cultural context for these concepts. The best I could do was ascribe a kind of second-hand, intellectual understanding to these words/concepts based on reading about and attending workshops on Qi, Qi-gong, and internal martial arts.

This approach led to developing an imaginary notion of what Qi feels like and my trying to create the feeling intellectually. In this way, Qi and qi flow became “loaded” words/concepts with no foundation in nor relation to my kinesthetic reality. This road led me to a dead-end.

I had to jettison all mental constructs, all my data (which was a long, arduous process) and focus on developing my own internal kinesthetic FEEL. Later I developed the ability to FEEL the distinction between the “before adjustment” and “after adjustment”.

For me, the process of developing internal strength has been one of slowly noticing subtle kinesthetic feelings until these became obvious, then noticing more subtle feelings until these became obvious and on and on…

In my most recent class, I was able to articulate that yes, the kinesthetic feeling that I am now feeling could be labeled “open” or “stretch” however, the kinesthetic feeling underlying these words/concepts is completely different than the feeling underlying these words as they are typically used in an "external strength", kinesthetic paradigm. I’m borrowing "western" words grounded in a different experience to describe a different experience.

This then opens up the problem of using words such as “stretch” and “open” to describe the feeling of developing internal strength. For example, if I say, “The feeling of developing internal strength feels like stretch or open.” and if you read this and haven’t yet experienced the kinesthetic experience that I’m referencing, then you may think, "Oh, I need to stretch more to develop internal strength." Nothing could be further from the truth.

I appreciate the Wujifa approach because the focus is on developing the kinesthetic FEELING and avoiding the use of loaded words like Qi and Qi flow. Western words like connection, or fascial connection, or open, or gaps, or sticky points, or blocks, or blockages, are used instead. However, these western words also present a koan: What is the feeling of fascial connection? What is the feeling of loading or distributing a chin-na force throughout the fascial system? How do you create the feeling of open between all your joints?

After I felt something that could be described as open, stretch, connection, then I saw the problem of how to talk about the internal aspect of the internal martial arts. Our words can communicate and guide us in a shared experience or our words may unintentionally mislead when there is no common experience.