Beginners Mind

Suspend the head top….Sink the tailbone…. Empty the chest… Fill the belly…. Relax the back…. Move from behind… Intention leads….Sink…Relax shoulders….Intention leads…. Sink….Relax….Soften the waist…. Expand…. Relax….Intention leads….Sink…Sit back….Relax…Sink…..Sit back….. Relax. Sink. Move from behind…. Relax….. Sink…. Soften the waist…. Balance…. Sink…. Intention leads….Suspend the head top…. Relax…..

The group went to the Longmen Grottoes yesterday and though it is one of the more beautiful and compelling places in China, I was there last year and so decided to stay in the Village. My time here is coming to a close and I did not want to break the spell of this place just yet. Besides, the mantras of instruction were pouring through my mind and I needed to process them further into my body.  I thought perhaps I would follow a story that Chen Xiao Wang tells of his early practice years; he made time everyday to practice the Laojia twenty-seven times.  What better place for me to try this too!  I did not feel I wanted to practice them all at once but rather weave them through my day. I woke at the usual time and began.  I was in no hurry; the first three rounds took around 25 minutes each. I ate some breakfast, saw the group off and headed for the Ditch. 

It was around 10 am and the Chen Ditch, the physical & historic place after which this town is named was busy. Owls hooted and several different species of birds chattered and flew in winged bursts from green leafed limb to piles of leaves on the ground and back to the branches again. A few folks strolled along the path softly talking and politely glancing at the American in her magenta puff jacket practicing their town’s jewel.  A few paused, grinned, gave me a thumb’s up and said, “Taijiquan Hao!”  The rooflines of the houses still had bundles of corn a top, lit up deep yellow orange as an occasional sunray broke through the grey clouds & haze. Even the dogs scrounging in the garbage that these homes dump there did not deter my sense of history and wonder. I practiced three more rounds and then my call to adventure compelled me back to the school. It was Market Day and I had been able to borrow a bicycle. Since my first year here in Chenjiagou I have wanted to explore the area around the school so I was delighted to hop on this 1950’s style bike.  I checked the bell and the breaks and merged into the foray.  

As good as it feels to practice Taijiquan, it felt great to not be doing it for a while! After hours upon hours, days upon days of sink and relax, adjust and modify and deliberately sink some more, my legs were so happy to simply pedal round and round, not once touching the ground.  The air was cool and the soft breeze, crisp against my skin.  I road through the market; vendors were still setting up, and continued past groups of elders playing Mahjong, mothers strolling with babies in split pants slung over their shoulders and shop keepers sweeping their stoops. I broke away from the Village into the gorgeous surrounding farmland. It smells both fetid and fertile this time of the year as farmers finish the fall harvest and lay the fields to rest for winter.  Not wanting to chance the busy highway on the outskirts of town I turned around and explored several of the Hutongs along the outlying areas of the Village.  People as were at their mid-day tasks, sweeping, scrubbing their laundry all the while gossiping and laughing. It seems many of the elder Chinese lived where I road, their deeply lined wide faces, thick and rosy from a life in the Village.  I also road a bit through what is becoming the Government run Taijiquan Village Theme Park.  I stayed long enough only to deepen my questions about what this behemoth will mean to the life here.

It started to sprinkle just as I got off my bike and crammed it and myself through a Market that was in full swing.  I love the Markets in China; we just don’t have anything like them in the States.  Street vendors sell everything from underwear to shoes – a lot of shoes – to belts, blankets, brooms, plastic tubs, toilet paper and food – a lot of food!  Food hawkers sit over steaming vats of boiling oils cooking plenty of meat. Some sit full of pride for their elegantly laid out skewers of chicken, pork and lamb placed in perfect rows along the table.  Some sell sweet candied fruit skewers, others steamed bread, and still others offer hot steaming bowls of noodles garnished with cilantro.  I could not resist eating something there! The rule I follow in travelling is to always eat cooked food and always go to the stall that is the busiest.  I looked around and found just the right place - a young couple selling fried something.  I cued up. My wait was worth it not just for the food but to see how the couple worked in tandem, like the finest dance partners, one taking orders and weighing out the meat, the other tossing it into the deep fryer, shimmying the basket to and fro then lifting and shaking the basket to drain the cooked morsels.  Before I knew it my palate was ecstatic with flavorful grease, some amazing spice and tender (thoroughly cooked) chicken.

I resumed my practice in Chen Xiao Xing’s old training hall and there, during my eleventh round of Laojia, my body began to surrender. My release of energy in Buddha’s Attendant Pounds the Mortar echoed throughout the training hall, with well used spears, Guan dao’s, and one large barbell as my witnesses. My punches were rooted and whipped from my waist. My hips settled more easily and my angles more familiar. This eleventh round must have taken forty-five minutes, my body retrieving every correction it could remember: the soft touch of Chen Xiao Xing hands moving from my collar bones, across my shoulders and down my arms, the gentle lengthening of my lumbar, the softening of my chest to my belly, the nudge of my left hip into its track, the support of my tailbone. Even as my shoulders crept up they relaxed back down, remembering the loving thwap they frequently received this week. It was at round eleven where I reached further into my legs, asking them to support this deeper exploration of breath, bone, and muscle that was revealing itself to me. It was during round eleven where I asked my mind to give me the concentration neccessary at this new level of awakening. Body and mind unified delving deeper into the rhythms of these historic and powerful movements.  Round eleven was forty-five minutes but it was more timeless than that. Here, in Chen Xiao Xing’s old training hall, in the Village School, I knew I had found my art.

I ended up with fifteen Laoija repetitions through out the day, about six hours of practice.  And truly, in the end the number didn’t matter as much as what was revealed. It is said being a beginner is the greatest gift of any artistic endeavor. We all get that once when we embark and then we spend the rest of our practice learning to reclaim and sustain that state of being. I came here to study with Chen Xiao Xing in his Village school because I knew he could help me deepen my Taijiquan practice but more because with him the only way is to be a beginner again.  I got on a plane and traveled five thousand five hundred miles not to take pictures but to intentionally be deconstructed, to dissolve what I knew and give birth once again to the Great Mystery within my practice.  Yesterday in the schoolyard, in the ditch, and in Chen Xiao Xing’s old training hall, I know that is exactly what happened.

We have today and one more half day left before we journey from the Village back home. This will be my last blog from China and I’d like to thank all of you for reading. Writing and sharing enhances my experience a hundred fold; your reading helps me see more. I’d also like to take this opportunity to deeply salute David Gaffney and Davidine Siaw-Voon Sim.  Not only are these two people historians, scholars and superb martial artists, they are funny, warm and generous human beings. I could not have asked for a better group of training companions than their group, who embraced me fully, sharing chocolate, biscuits and malt loaves despite my not knowing their language very well.   A huge salute of gratitude to the Village School and other guests, who I know were woken up too early by not just the roosters but by my laugh on the training sidewalk. Chen Zi Qiang worked so hard for us.  Salute to him and his wife for their efforts to organize us here and especially for sharing his culinary expertise with us! Finally, my deepest salute of gratitude to Grandmaster Chen Xiao Xing, my teacher, who got me back to the beginning again. 

Davidine and I were reflecting early on in the trip how interesting it is that fate and intention toss groups of unlikely people into these deeply transformational situations together.  To some degree it makes no sense at all, to another degree, all the sense in the world. As Davidine said of Taijiquan, “it chooses you.”

The day looks to be sunny and comfortable. The roosters are crowing in earnest. Day nine of training begins. Salute.  

Kim

 

 

 

Comments

[Nancy Stevens]

Thanks for sharing your journey. It was magic.

[Kevin Fetherston]

Thank you Kim! A magic carpet ride, beautifully told. Salute!