I spent much of 1999 living in Wenzhou, China and was fortunate enough to be introduced to Mr. Wu, who taught me the 42-movement taiji form in one-on-one lessons each morning. The mornings were early and waking up after long nights of kendo and post-kendo refreshments was sometimes grueling. But each lesson with him was a treasure and I now miss those mornings and the individual attention.
Mr. Wu remains a good friend and I hope to learn from him again in the future, though he is currently in the US (in Missouri, next door to my state, Nebraska) and I am in Japan. He will be moving to Europe about the time I get back to Nebraska. Another case of bad timing in my life.
After 1999, I made several follow-up trips to Wenzhou – both to continue my studies with Mr. Wu and to see my good friends there (kendo friends and otherwise). On every visit, our lessons were similar – early morning in a parking lot or on a rooftop. Basically an English – taiji exchange. Some days I felt it a bit heavy on the English, but again, I now miss those mornings terribly.
He is soft-spoken and knowledgeable but is certainly not directive. For him, everything in taiji should be natural and in accord with our personalities. He was seldom specific about details – “just do it naturally and you will improve”. This was/is in stark contrast to most teaching in Japanese arts, in which every aspect is circumscribed in detail and in which each and every detail, angle, and distance can be judged correct or incorrect.
So the few times when he made clear pronouncements left a great impact upon me. Two of them have been ringing in my head recently.
1. There was a person in the town with long experience and much skill but “he practices many styles of taiji and sometimes mixes them up”. At the time I was most surprised to hear such a frank evaluation of another person. More recently, the words point to me – I am getting cozy with a growing number of taiji forms and must keep his words in mind, constantly stay on top of things to avoid mixing up my forms.
2. “Almost no one can master both the hard and soft styles”. At that time, karate was still a major part of my practice, and my karate was still stiff and hard, not smooth. He didn’t refer to karate directly, but the point was clear. Ten years later, I am deeper than I ever imagined in the internal arts, but I do keep up bits of external practice as well. Once again, I feel it important to keep his words with me.
Simple messages, really, but they have meant a lot to me lately. Was thinking about them both today as I began a Chen style taiji form. In the park, surrounded by university students practicing a variety of soft and hard styles, internal and external. For some years now I have wanted to (re-)start the Chen style, but only recently did it feel the time was right and I asked my teacher about it.
Last night, I dug out an old video of myself from about 15 years ago in Lincoln. (Damn, I was in good shape back then!) It was a hot, muggy night near the end of summer. My taiji friend and I had been learning a Chen form from our teacher, Di Ma. She was moving to Texas, and we begged her to let us record the form, and her teaching us, on video. I was shirtless, betraying all the more the stiffness of my karate-driven motions even while trying to do taiji.
My friend and I didn’t know the form well – we were just able to string the motions together ABC, 123, connect the dots (though she was far better than I). But it was too late – or too early – our timing was off. Di Ma was moving away and we had not yet learned the form well at all. I helped move them and drove one of the trucks all the way to Dallas, Texas, where I got out to see my family. They drove on to El Paso, and that was the last I saw of her.
Over the years, we both lost the form. We also lost track of Di Ma, and can’t find anyone who knows where she is (blatant appeal for help, if anyone has a clue….). So much was lost. How I would like to meet Di Ma today, ask for her instruction again.
I had doubts this morning, thinking it might be too early, I have too many other things not yet mastered…but I also recalled words I heard yesterday – if I don’t start soon, it might be too late. I don’t want to miss the timing again.
The form I started this morning appears to be the same one on that grainy, unlit video from years back. There is no audio on the video. I wish I could recall what advice and cautions she gave us that night, one of our last practices together.
picture from a 2007 practice in Toyama Park
