Wednesday, April 4, 2012

Open The Door and Step Through

There are pitfalls we all experience when learning. These are the little errors and mistakes we adopt for one reason or another, that stay with us and become increasingly more difficult to “unlearn” as time goes by. Even in a class the need for the correction may not be noticed and the error may become engrained through habit. Those of us who have left the structure of a class and study on our own are even more at risk to perpetuate “incorrectness.”  Where does it come from? How do we get rid of it?

One day I convinced my new Tai Chi instructor, who taught Sun Style, to let me show him my Yang Long Form. After I finished he asked, “Why are you pointing down with your index finger in that one move? Don’t you know you are providing a ‘handle’ for an opponent to grab?” I hadn’t realized I was making the hook for Single Whip wrong, extending my finger instead or curving it inward to touch my thumb. Since I hadn’t practiced the Long Form in the context of a class for a year or two, no one was available to offer a correction until now.

Even within the context of a class you can adopt an bad habit. Early in my studies I was practicing the movement called Brush Knee. Another student came up to me and told me I was doing it wrong. “Think of it this way,” they said. “You open the door, then you step through it.” By this catchy phrase I was to remember to sweep my hand down and across my thigh and then take a step forward, pushing out with my other hand. I began doing Brush Knee this way and the catch phrase worked well ---to reinforce the incorrect sequence of the move. It wasn’t until years later in another class that my instructor stated a simple principle: “Always set your feet in position first so that you can use the muscles of your waist and upper thighs to direct the motion of the rest of your body,” or something to that effect. It made me think about the Brush Knee movement and I suddenly saw, then in practice felt, the correct sequence: step, set your stance, then sweep your hand across (brushing aside a kick or a low punch), twisting and pushing out with your other hand (energized from the hips).

The person who had given me the bad advice had most likely learned it that way in an earlier class taught by a different instructor. So bad habits can be infectious. It is also the kind of mistake you can only correct by feeling the corrected way of doing it. Kind of a vicious circle. I have to come up with a better catch phrase. Maybe something like, “Step on their toe and then hit ‘em in the groin.” Of course, the movement (or posture, as some people call it) is more or less one continuous action but it is often taught by breaking it down into components, thus, the linear, 1-2-3-ness of it to our inquiring minds. Here is a video that illustrates Brush Knee: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=geLkg3kboDU


Not bad, huh? I have to say, though, that I don’t exactly step heel first, leg straight and use the heel as a hinge for shifting my weight. I’ve seen that in a lot of videos, so I have to think about it, but it seems like it emphasizes the heel as a fulcrum a little too much. No matter. Notice the way he turns at the waist. This is more than a simple turn: it is a transfer of Chi from the Dantien. The Kua (inner thigh and hips) are the “movers and shakers” here. In fact, the movement is sometimes called Brush Knee Twist Step. I think of this whenever I watch professional baseball: the pitcher does not throw with his arm; he throws with his Kua! At any rate, remember to step through, and then open the door