Excerpted from The Master Method: Four Steps to Success, Prosperity and Inner Peace by Master Marco Sies

Growing up, I experienced difficulties and personal conflict that I’ve worked very hard to overcome. Some of these struggles stemmed from negative influences and people who told me I wasn’t good enough…I was inferior…I wasn’t smart…I was too poor, too small, too unattractive to make anything of myself. I was told so many negative things so often, I actually spent many years believing these things were true.

Very small for my age, I was a dark-skinned boy living n a not-yet diversified [Chilean] population where light skin was admired and favored. At school, little girls told me I was ugly, and the boys bullied me relentlessly. I remember being thrown headfirst into a trashcan, and the humiliation of a group of boys whipping me with their neckties and making me run like a horse while they laughed. Even some of my relatives made hurtful comments…

Some of those negative childhood experiences stayed with me well into adulthood. I now understand that these experiences were necessary to help me identify what I didn’t want for myself…

By the age of five or six, I already had a fascination with kickboxing, persistently pleading with my dad to show me moves and “train” me. Although I wanted to be a great fighter, no one took this undersized boy seriously, and especially one who had his head buried in philosophy books most of the time.

A New Determination

When I was 15, an exhibition by world champion kickboxes Bill “Superfoot” Wallace in my hometown changed the course of my life. I was awed by his power, mastery and discipline, and I decided that very night I wanted to become a world champion. I would train and learn and work harder than anyone ever had and let nothing stop me from reaching my goal. When I shared my thoughts with others, they scoffed and laughed at me, but once my decision was made, I began to make my plan.

I began working every job I could find to earn even the smallest amount of money [for training]. I washed dishes, helped people carry groceries to their cards, I swept floors, and I even walked several miles to and from school so I could save my bus money. I was determined to accomplish my goal, and I knew this was going to help me get closer to it. Small opportunities began to fall into my path, and eventually, I was able to find work at a martial arts school cleaning floors, bathrooms and mirrors. I never looked at these duties as beneath me, but rather as an opportunity.

This first martial arts job allowed me to train and improve my martial arts and kickboxing skills, and after a couple of years of relentless, grueling work, I proudly became the Chilean National Champion. I was only eighteen years old, and it was an enormous achievement. I maintained my title fro the next three years, but my eyes were still on the world title…I knew I had to go to Europe or the United States.

Coming to America

I arrived in America with $40, a couple pairs of pants and shirts, some music tapes and my martial arts uniforms. I settled into an ambitious routine, working as a cleaner late at night, delivering newspapers in the early morning hours and still training at every opportunity.

We would often drive all night to get to an event and then go straight to the weigh-in. I would fight and we would drive straight back home because hotel accommodations weren’t in the budget.

The world of kickboxing is a tough business, with purses going mostly to the promoters and the actual fighter taking the physical punishment for only $200 or $300. In those early years, I met people who promised me training, fights and other “deals,” but I didn’t understand anything about contracts, and was so green I assumed no one would be unethical or have bad intentions.

At one point, I was convinced to travel to California with the promise of big money for just a couple of fights. I spent two months there and never got paid a dime. I returned to the East with nothing–no job, no money and no place to live.

At this low point, I found myself homeless, and I didn’t know where my next meal would come from.

Despite these major setbacks I never lost faith. I was so focused on becoming a world champion…without knowing why, I was accepting everything I experienced as part of my journey. In hindsight, I realize each trial gave me the knowledge and tools I need to become a kickboxing world champion.

Within a few months I was back on my feet, and even though I had to work even hard to sustain myself, I didn’t worry. I couldn’t afford a boxing gym, but I found an old couch near a dumpster, took the cushions off, tied them to a tree, and that became my punching bag. I trained in the parking garage at a local mall, running up and down the stairs, and I ran sprints in a local park. I used all the creative means I could think of to continue my training every single day in hot sun, rain or snow…

Continued in The Master Method: Four Steps to Success, Prosperity and Inner Peace by Marco Sies.

…Actors often brag about how much Krav Maga or karate or capoeira they had to learn for their roles, but to judge from the onscreen world of modern action movies, that kind of skill set is hardly rare: A built-in understanding of martial arts is instilled in everyone, be they hero, villain, or mere henchman. (Fortunately, heroes always get to fight off bad guys who somehow know the exact same form of martial arts they do.) Too often, it seems like movies grind to a halt for obligatory hand-to-hand combat with low stakes and little invention, as though the screenwriter typed, “A fight breaks out,” and the director left it up to the second unit and fight coordinator to fill three minutes.

With little in the way of stakes, a sameness in presentation, and no blood or bruises, martial arts have turned action scenes into dance scenes…Gone are the days when a fight might involve a gun, a makeshift weapon, or a hit that actually hurts.

Mr. Buchanan misremembers the history of violence in cinema.

Before The Matrix ignited our current wuxia craze, with its improbable spinning kicks and high-precision fisticuffs, how did our heroes show their combat prowess? Primarily, as I recall, with a bullet-deflecting aura, flawless aim, and a bottomless clip.

In other words, these earlier fights were conducted with magical talismans, and not any representative of actual firearms. Imagine Harry Potter with a five o’clock shadow, versus an army of cross-eyed dragons that can’t shoot straight. In whose eyes were these gun battles any more realistic, or exciting, than (even formulaic and poorly choreographed) hand-to-hand combat? Within which paradigm it easiest for us to suspend disbelief, or to empathize?

America has always been uncomfortable with self-cultivation myths. The power of the cowboy, our original American superhero, flowed through his sidearm–and we are apparently meant to imagine he cast it himself, along with all the ammunition; but in contrast to legendary Eastern kung fu masters, our storied independence was always a product of the general store.

Superstar Jackie Chan, for example, is a real-life product of long and bitter kung fu training, and in the films that built his career, many of his characters share a similar background. Whereas, when courting an American audience, his movie plots too often concern a cybernetic tuxedo, or a magical medallion. (If you’ve seen either of these, then you know that twice is already too often.)

Fortunately for martial arts fans, not all on-screen violence is mediated by technology. While today’s hand-to-hand combat can be frantic, yet implausibly sterile, some scenes from decades past are unintentionally hilarious. Star Trek is a prime example, illustrating that there never was a greatest generation, or a golden age for violent action.

So what are the crucial truths about fighting and martial arts that popular movies obscure? An easy answer is, all of them. In greater detail: first, that there is even a difference between fighting and martial arts. Second, that there is a difference between fighting for dominance, and fighting for survival; even when lives are at stake, action movie heroes are more concerned with displays of personal heroism (no surprise here), and less with pragmatism or efficiency. Third, that a “successful” overt action is, at best, a rectification of previous failures at covert influence…

How are martial arts and the entertainment industry influencing each other? Is either improving, or corrupting the other? What do you think?

If so, then we have a solution for you. It’s called SlowFlo, the Christian alternative to Tai Chi.

Inspired by Chuck Norris, the art of SlowFlo reforms the inscrutable pagan art of Tai Chi Chuan into a safe and guilt-free form of Christian exercise.

The benefits of SlowFlo include limbering of the joints and spinal column, and oxygenation of your whole body, all without challenging your religious and philosophical beliefs.

While all other forms of martial arts were created under demonic influence, SlowFlo strengthens and fortifies your body and soul with the real ultimate power of Jesus.

You will burn calories in a gentle, relaxing way, while performing simple techniques with reassuring names, like “The Iron Pope”, “Lifting the White Man’s Burden”, and “The Chris Farley”.

SlowFlo raises your metabolism for quicker weight loss and more energy–not the evil ki energy of brown and yellow devils, but wholesome Christian energy.

The beautiful movements of Slow Flo are accompanied by scriptural affirmations in All-American Sign Language. Say goodbye to the occult influence of Oriental mantras, mudras, and meditation, and welcome the healing power of SlowFlo exclusively into your heart.

In Christ all things are possible, except for Oriental Yoga and martial arts: those are the work of the devil. If you accept Jesus as your master, buy SlowFlo on DVD today.

Slow Flow by WholyFit
Hat tip to The Museum of Idolatry: Artifacts of Apostasy

All kidding aside, the serious question is: what is it about Tai Chi that requires a “Christian alternative”?

Chi theory is an ontology, in which it is pointless to declare one’s belief or disbelief prior to understanding. In this excerpt from Chi Gong: The Ancient Chinese Way to Health, author Bruce Holbrook addresses the root of the controversy, which is neither logic or science, but cultural impedance.

The concept of chi is confusing to Western readers, not because it is a difficult one, but because our own culture stands in the way.

Occidental civilization is based on certain religious and philosophical premises which invite false translation of chi and related concepts. For example, our philosophy forces a choice between two fundamental levels of reality, which in the Chinese worldview are but a single one. That historically recent epistemological expression of our civilization, science, forcefully fights against comprehension of a single reality. Through out this section, therefore, “science” and related terms such as “physical,” are used within quotation marks when they refer to Western concepts. This may promote correction of the false, but very widespread, ethnocentric assumption that Western science is the only form of science.

Our “science” is firmly based on inanimate models and data-recording devices, whereas chi (in the central sense of this book) is intimately related to distinctively animate phenomena and cultivated human sensing. An additional problem is that Western science–especially “medical science”–has become dogmatic, so that it rejects any logical conclusion which lies outside its paradigm. The prevailing attitude is: If we can’t deal with it on our terms, it does not exist, because only our terms are valid. Cultural anthropologists call such systematic ignorance “ethnocentrism”–being confined, unaware of the confinement, by one’s own culture.

Western scientists can describe in unparalleled detail a decline in metabolic energy and regenerative capacity, but as soon as they state or suggest that these are the causes of natural dying, they are refusing to answer the question at hand: How does a human die of natural causes?

Given such widespread ethnocentrism, it is only natural therefore that Western thinking beyond the scope of “science” has surrounded chi with a mystical aura, while “scientific thinking” has reduced and deformed the concept into something manageable on its own terms. Such terms are untrue to the original concept and reality of chi. Beyond that there is a natural difficulty with distinctions among different kinds of chi. This can give rise to the impression that Chinese thinkers indulged in unnecessary conceptual multiplication to compensate for their own weaknesses in natural scientific understanding. Nothing could be further from the truth.

Because Western thinkers do think in “scientific terms,” much of the following clarification and simplification of the chi concept uses them. But the reader should understand that this is to approach chi from the odd angle obliged by our conceptual repertoire, and that this is not by any means an attempt to “scientifically” prove or explain the existence of chi. The scope of “science” is too narrow to provide adequately for such a concept.

I think the best way to begin is with a distinction between two basic kinds of chi in living organisms, original and formative, as variables which ‘fill holes’ left by Western science. In this way cultural-conceptual confusion is precluded. It is primarily a matter of common sense.

I begin with a personal experience of a kind the reader may find easy to replicate or remember. As an adolescent frequently in front of a mirror, I noticed that when I was in a good mood my hair would stay combed, but when I was depressed it would fall out of place. (As I learned later, li, in the medical expression li chi–to organize the chi–is the same as in li in li tou-fa–to comb the hair.) Plainly, this phenomenon involved an electromagnetic (EM) field, but, I reasoned, there must be some mood-related phenomenon, other than or more than mood, which was responsible for the EM energy and fluctuations in the energy level of the field. I could envision my body as an EM coil, my hair as iron filings forming a pattern partly determined by the EM field around the coil–but what was the battery or generator of electricity? The answer to that lies in a recognition of Western science’s illogical treatment of the matter of life and death.

Western science recognizes, via its metering devices, that the living organism possesses an EM field. And both meters and Kirlian photography show that the field extends beyond the “physical” (visible, palpable) boundary of the body. But “science” proposes that this field is biologically secondary, an effect produced by the biochemical substances of the body. This seems logical enough until we ask: What is the difference between a living human (or animal or plant) and a corpse, and why? What causes fetuses to be formed? What causes living tissue to regenerate? To these questions science has no answers that are not circular or evasive in logic.

The differences between a living human being and a corpse are that the former has an EM field and movement (together called “bioenergy”) and neutral chemical acidity, whereas the latter lacks an EM field, does not move, and is highly acidic. Three possible implied explanations for the changes between the living and the dead can be stated in the form of propositions: (1) absence of bioenergy is an effect of altered biochemistry (the Western scientific proposition; (2) altered biochemistry and exhaustion of bioenergy are effects of a third factor; (3) altered biochemistry is an effect of exhaustion of bioenergy (the Chinese scientific proposition).

(1) The Western Scientific Proposition This first explanation is the one used by modern science, and as we’ll see it is an illogical and a let’s-pull-ourselves-up-by-the-bootstraps type of thinking. Altered biochemistry requires an alterer. Chemical substances cannot in themselves account for the alteration. That is, given the formulas for these substances and the fact of their replenishment from blood, no change is predictable. As far as biochemical description can go–the biochemical composition of cells and fluids–the structure of the body of a healthy young person is the same as that of one who is about to die of old age.

Let’s further examine the western scientific proposition in order to approach the reality and nature of chi. From the perspective of a biochemist, it might be proposed that the independent variable is simply entropy–the “negative force” which diffuses concentrations of energy…..[continued]

Everyone in less than ten words please try to explain why you practice the martial arts. I think I can show how we are all trying to do the same thing our perspectives and personal agendas just make us word it differently. Please just humor me i consider myself a scientist and could use as many perspectives as possible.

Go ahead. Ten words or less, please.

This I Believe is an international project engaging people in writing and sharing essays that describe their core values. More than 90,000 of these essays, written by people from all walks of life, are archived on their website.

Naturally, some essayists shared their beliefs on, and experience with martial arts. Here are a few of their stories.

Life Is A Spiritual Struggle
by Joseph Laycock (Brighton, Massachusetts)

Over the din of boxing gloves pounding against leather bags, I struggle to hear this Brazilian explain yet another way to choke someone unconscious. This is a martial arts gym. Most of the regulars are amateur fighters with dreams of going professional. When they’re not here, some of them work as firefighters or bouncers. I’m definitely the only schoolteacher in the room.

My students take interest in my training. Sometimes I’ll enter the classroom with bruises or a slight limp from the gym. In world history, I’ll discuss the cultural significance of the fighting styles I study. In Thai kickboxing, the eight striking weapons — fists, shins, elbows and knees — represent the eight-fold path of the Buddha. Brazilian jujitsu has more improvisation than Japanese martial arts, which reflects different cultural attitudes towards tradition.

Every class asks me the same questions, “Have you ever beat anyone up?” And, “Why are you a teacher instead of a professional fighter?” When I tell them the truth — that I have never been in a fight and have no aspirations to go professional — I get a range of reactions from disappointment to accusations of cowardice.

“So why do you do it,” they always ask.

I believe that life is a spiritual struggle. My battle is not against another fighter but against the unjust and apathetic system that is attacking my students… [continued]

I Believe In An Indomitable Spirit
by Rachel (Seaville, New Jersey)

Perhaps the most formidable thing on earth is a person will stop at nothing to achieve their goals. I believe I am one of those people.

I struggled a lot with schoolwork and achieving average grades, because I have Attention Deficit Disorder. School in itself was demanding enough, but coupled with the challenge to accomplish my goal of becoming a black belt in Martial Arts, it was near impossible.

To this day, I live by the disciplines I learned as a five-year old red belt, while being trained in the art of Tae Kwon Do. There are five characteristics that are held far above any other: Courtesy, Self Control, Perseverance, Integrity, and an Indomitable Spirit. There is one specifically that stands out among the rest that has helped me to achieve far more than anyone has ever expected me to: The Indomitable Spirit.

My Martial Arts training was a constant in my life, while the rest of it came crashing down around me… [continued]

Hatred
by Payton (Apple Creek, Ohio)

“Chuck Norris could have been a nuisance to the rest of the world and become a serial killer. Instead, he was determined to become an important part of this world. It is too bad that we all cannot be as smart as Chuck.”

I believe that hatred can destroy anything. All it takes is a few words or a couple rude remarks. Once the person cannot control himself anymore, destruction will follow. All that is left is sadness.

Examples of this angst transforming into rage can be found all around us. We encounter this atrocity every time we step into a school building or other public place. Although it is all around us, it is usually concealed within a container also known as the human mind.

I know a person who had every right to feel hatred. He had a bad childhood and went back and forth between his parents and foster parents. After a time of being picked on, he threatened to bring a gun to his school. [continued]

This I Believe
by Felisha (Chicago, Illinois)

I believe that people should find something they love and go all for it.

Not long ago, I believed something different, something that ended up giving me a more pessimistic look on life instead of helping me, like it was intended to do. I believed that people should find something that they were good at and go all for it. I thought that everyone had a talent and they should peruse that, but I soon realized that there were some kinks in my belief, two that brought misery and envy instead of happiness and a sense of completion.

I was at my friend’s house one day. It was a slow day, and I, as usual, was probably thinking about something else I could add to my mental list, but then, for some reason, I did something I didn’t think I would ever do. I told my friend how I was jealous of her. How I thought she was really talented, and how she was lucky.

Then, she looked at me with a look that said “huh?” and she told me, “I’m not talented, I just practice.” That knocked me over the head, more then she probably realized. She wasn’t talented… she just practiced? [continued]

This I Believe
by Geoff (Oconomowoc, Wisconsin)

“Though it is generally thought of in a negative light, doing nothing is actually a positive activity if done in the right doses.”

I believe in nothing. Ha, gotcha! Now you’re thinking, “oh boy here comes another apathetic, lazy teenager, talking about how unfair the world is and how they can justify not doing any work.” But in reality, doing nothing means so much more than the literal sense of the word. It provides you with a chance to focus yourself, to recharge if you will. Doing nothing is one of the most important things I do all day.

When I do nothing, I like to be organized. Sometimes I will watch TV, turn on a mindless show that I can just zone out too. Sometimes I turn on tennis, letting the repetition of the ball moving back and forth calm me into a thoughtless trance. Sometimes I listen to music, losing myself in a catchy riff or a soothing rhythm. But none of that is really necessary for me to do nothing, which is half the beauty of it. All I need to do nothing is NOTHING! [continued]

I Believe Martial Arts Prevents Violence
by Terell (Bronx, New York)

I believe that Martial Arts prevents violence. As a martial artist, you have self control and can sometimes control others with your ability to manipulate them with your confidence and your desire to resist fighting. You can talk your way out of almost any problem that comes your way.

When I was young, I didn’t have the ability to resist fights. In the third grade one morning at “The School of Excellence,” my friends and I were in the lunch room hanging out, doing what third graders do in the morning, you know, talking about what happened on wrestling last night. Ms. Burger, our teacher came over to the table and told us to lineup. Before I got on line I asked her if I could go get a fruit. She told me, “Okay, but hurry up.”

As I walked to the fruit bin, I saw that there was only one orange left so, I ran over and got it. I peeled the orange as fast as I can so I wouldn’t get in trouble, a fifth grader told me if I didn’t give him the orange he would kick my ass. Now I wasn’t your average third grader. I was big and stocky with a nasty temper. I looked at the fifth grader, and he looked at me. I told him, “You’re not getting my orange, and you can try to kick my ass.” [continued]

I Believe in the Power of Duality
by Thomas (Goshen, Indiana)

I believe in the power of duality. That two principles, two actions can contradict each other, and yet complement and improve each other.

Martial arts. Tough guys. Scary, deadly, dangerous. A powerful and imposing figure, his large shoulders cast a wide shadow. Shaved head, broken nose, cut and shattered knuckles.

Ballet. The word conjures up images. Images of little girls wearing delicate tutus. The slender and graceful figure holding a high arabesque. Ballet is for the frail, the gentle, the artsy.

Jean Claude van Damme versus Rudolf Nureyev. Two forces acting in opposition. Violence versus expression. The clear boundaries between one and the other are not questioned, can not be questioned. A person is one or the other. Yin and yang of blood red and lavender blush.

Yet, ballet made me a better and more complete martial artist.

One martial art studio I attended rented out space from a two story ballet studio. One class left me collapsed on the floor, waiting for my legs to stop pulsing. Hoping the pain would subside so that I could drive home, my instructor approaches me.

“You think your legs are hurting now, try taking a class up stairs,” he said with a half smirk on his face, pointing upwards towards to sounds of pointe shoes tiptoeing across a hard wood floor… [continued]

This I Believe
by Deborah (Princeton, New Jersey)

“When I first started going to class, I wondered why so many people had been attending for six, seven, even ten years, always working on the same routine. Now I know.”

I believe in balance, in yin and yang, give and take. I came to appreciate the concept of balance late in life, at age 50, when I began to take tai chi, an eastern discipline oftentimes described as meditation in slow motion.

Moving slow has never been part of my makeup. I have always been known for doing things quickly, for moving too fast or for being the proverbial bull in a china closet. When I was a child my mother used to say I walked like an elephant. Needless to say I never took ballet. For me, grace was only something I said before meals.

Tai chi is based on a martial arts discipline that emphasizes strength, defense, and balance, enabling you to swiftly and efficiently render an attacker or enemy incapable of harming you. Tai chi is also about strength and balance, about moving gently and precisely, flowing like a slow-moving stream. It involves shifting your weight from one side to the other, feeling the energy flow within you. It also is about defense, but with tai chi you channel potentially harmful energy away or allow it to dissipate. It is a defense against the assaults of the world—the stress, imbalance, injustice… [continued]

This I Believe
by Sean (San Antonio, Texas)

I believe that you can’t truly accomplish anything without putting your heart into it.

There are many things in this life you can “accomplish” by just sliding by. Be it school, work, some extra-curricular activity; like say, martial arts. Any of those things you can do without really trying. But can you really accomplish anything for yourself if you don’t?

Many argumentative teenagers such as yours truly, may say yes. But I don’t mean just doing the task. I mean getting something out of the task. However, that cannot be accomplished by just doing what ever it is you have to do. You have to put you’re heart in it to really get something out of it! Though that may sound corny, possibly even a little cliché, it’s true.

An odd topic such as this requires an example. I’ve been taking martial arts (more specifically Tae Kwon-Do) for the better part of the last 10 years. And for 8 of those years, I kind of just “did” martial arts and somehow managed to get my Black Belt in the process. I got very little out of it though. I may have managed to gain a false sense of confidence, maybe a few friends, and something more to do every week, but that’s about it… [continued]

Ladies and gentlemen, I’ve been trolled! Hoaxed! Buffaloed and bewildered!

It doesn’t happen often these days. I’ve been discussing martial arts on the Internet since before Web 1.0. I’ve seen most of the pranks, and yes, pulled a few myself.

What is the best style of martial arts for fit, beautiful women with large breasts? Please let me know, so I can sign up for it. Serious replies only.

So when someone dangles a truly ridiculous assertion in front of my nose, I usually have the good sense to ignore it these days. Usually. But a few days ago, one fairly experienced martial artist and provocateur knocked me for a loop.

We were chatting about the relevance of Taijiquan and push hands to combat. I said that I considered it inappropriate to keep one’s arms below the chest for the duration of push hands practice, regardless of whether one is interested in the martial applications of the art. It wasn’t intended as a criticism, really–just a quick observation in the midst of a wide-ranging discussion. But he eventually replied,

All this about arm position and circling is irrelevant, because in Push Hands, as long as you can touch your partner anywhere on their body, you can pop ‘em (as long as they have just a bit more unconscious tension than you do). That’s it. Doesn’t much matter where you touch them as deep unconscious tension (unlike superficial and/or conscious tension) is not localized it is a diffuse property–like a dye that is wicked through a material rather than a local stain. So, hands up or down shouldn’t matter much in the deep sense except that by the standards of physicalized Push Hands which the Guest seems to advocate it should simply make it that much easier to pop me up and out.

In retrospect, I should have addressed the issue in terms a software engineer can understand–or should understand at risk of gross incompetence.

Any newly developed algorithm must be presumed broken until tests prove otherwise. A truly comprehensive verification is often infeasible, as it would require billions or trillions of individual test executions; in those cases, it is essential to test all the boundary conditions at least.

For example, if a particular algorithm was meant to compare two numbers, it should be tested with the largest possible numbers, and the smallest possible numbers, and a few random numbers, and with one or both numbers missing.

It would however be totally unacceptable to explore a small and contiguous fraction of the problem space during the testing phase, and to declare on the basis of these test results alone that the algorithm is fundamentally sound.

Learning Taijiquan is a process, and the desired “end result” is itself a process–a highly refined algorithm. However we choose to define the problem space of pushing hands, it certainly cannot ignore the normal range of human motion. And for the arms, that range is a large sphere centered at the shoulder. The edges of that sphere are higher than the top of the head, and lower than the hips.

So, even if we study push hands strictly for the sake of achieving relaxation, this full sphere is the arena in which we have to show and prove, or concede our defeat. We cannot retreat to a shadowy corner, and wait for some tension to come to us, surmising our skill and benevolence in the meantime. No, we must step forth and establish our dominion over the entire venue, left and right, high and low, forward and back, hither and yon!

Fig. A – Recommended fighting stance for a tabby cat

Hoodwinked!

Maybe that should have been my reply. But instead, I simply noted that habitually dropping the hands cannot be justified by either current standards (as exemplified by the heads of the five major Taijiquan lineages), or by reference to the classic written works in which the art was originally defined.

The classics state that when practicing, one should sink the qi. Collapsing the frame is a cheap substitute, and hardly any better than compulsively flexing the quads in my humble opinion. But, you know, whatever. It’s no great harm to me if someone holds a unique set of ideals for their personal practice. Unique, misguided, bizarre and unprecedented… it’s all good, or at least good enough for someone else, am I right?

In retrospect, I should have realized, at the point when I started explaining the obvious as if it were obscure, that I was being played for sport. But that fact didn’t penetrate my thick skull, until after he countered again:

Push hands practice is about developing the ability to gently and easily yet powerfully, energetically, exploit perceived tension in a partner. (And of course it has nothing to do with structure, mechanics, anatomy or anything physical like that.)

I touch them enough to detect their tension. That’s all that’s required…but generally I do try to have fun and play nice, and except for one case…apart from that I believe that in Push Hands practice (unlike sparring) I have never injured anybody whatsoever. I stand by that record.

I’ve seen the bruises, cuts and scratches on this fellow’s gentler playmates, with my own eyes. The first time it happened in my presence, I dismissed it as one of the unfortunate accidents that will naturally occur during martial arts practice. After I saw it happen a few more times, I came to understand that this guy likes to play rough, and then to blame his toys for damaging themselves. Highly amusing!

But now, to hear him assert that push hands is totally and completely unrelated to combat? That it is really all about detecting tension? When I read that, I could not contain my laughter!!

Look, I’ve attended a dozen different seminars with bona-fide Taiji masters, all of whom kept their hands up, and all of whom were able to diagnose their partners’ tensions without provoking enmity. (Quite the contrary: a demonstration of flawless technique usually seems to inspire joy and gratitude!)

I have been on a dozen meditation retreats in the USA and overseas, and never once seen anyone get poked in the eye!

And now, apparently, I’ve been trolled by one of the best!

Bamboozled!

When this fellow said that he is not obliged to reconcile his practices and views with the contents of the Taiji classics–because their authors might have been wrong, and their language is open to interpretation anyway–I realized that he couldn’t possibly be serious. Anyone who hangs a shingle to advertise themselves as a Taijiquan instructor, is trading on the reputation of previous generations.

It doesn’t even matter whether the classics are right or wrong. You cannot simply ignore them, for the same reason that a Christian pastor cannot ignore the contents of the Bible. For the same reason you cannot sell gallons of bathtub “Coca-Cola” on the street, and then respond to the inevitable complaints by declaring that your version tastes even better.

One can always dispute the correct definition of the art, sure, but one cannot dismiss the significance of the standard definition outright, while at the same time relying upon it to identify or promote one’s own method. That is three different kinds of wrong.

When this fellow compared the practitioners of traditional moving-step tuishou to a caveman struggling with a sniper rifle–too stupid to employ their precision tool correctly, and opting to use it as a club instead–I knew he was having a laugh. There is just no other possibility, considering that his own preferred method suspiciously resembles the standard American competitive fixed form, which is roundly mocked for its decadence.

Eliminating tension is necessary but insufficient. Yes, it is immensely difficult to forgo any and all physical, intellectual and emotional tension while at the same time stepping around the floor in an agile and unscripted fashion, maintaining contact with an unpredictable partner, continuously circling with both arms, and neutralizing that partner’s attempts to apply the eight energies while searching for opportunities to apply their own. But if we intend to play the game of Taijiquan pushing hands (as opposed to making up a new game with the same name), this is the standard.

The exercise I have just described is fully congruent with the classics; it demands relaxation; it is good exercise; it is fun; and yes, it is relevant to combat.

Mystified!

Then he said that people who want to learn how to protect their head should give up on Taijiquan, and take up boxing instead.

OMFG LULZ. The good news is, I’m finally in on the joke.

Frank Bruno: “How dare these boxers challenge me with their primitive skills? It makes me angry. They’re just as good as dead.”

Tyrell Biggs: “I could have knocked him out in the third round but I wanted to do it slowly, so he would remember this night for a long time.”

Lennox Lewis: “I’m coming for you man. My style is impetuous. My defense is impregnable, and I’m just ferocious. I want your heart. I want to eat his children. Praise be to Allah!”

“It’s ludicrous these mortals even attempt to enter my realm.”

On self-discipline…

“I can talk about humility, but I’m not humble. I mean, if you say, ‘I’m humble,’ you’ve just contradicted yourself.”

“I have to dream and reach for the stars, and if I miss a star then I grab a handful of clouds.”

“My intentions were not to fascinate the world with my personality.”

“Fear is your best friend or your worst enemy. It’s like fire. If you can control it, it can cook for you; it can heat your house. If you can’t control it, it will burn everything around you and destroy you.”

On fame…

“At times, I come across as crude or crass, that irritates you when I come across like a Neanderthal or a babbling idiot at times. But I like to be that person. I like to show you all that person because that’s who you come to see.”

“There are nine million people who see me in the ring and hate my guts. Most of them are white. That’s okay. Just spell my name right.”

On his future after boxing…

“Being a champion opens lots of doors—I’d like to get a real estate license, maybe sell insurance.”

“I guess I’m gonna fade into Bolivian.”

The priest approached the monk and asked, “Why do you always carry that mirror?” Surely, the monk would have to admit his guilt, he thought.

The monk pulled the mirror from his bag, and pointed it at the priest. After a moment of silence, he replied. “I use this in times of trouble. When I look in the mirror, it shows me the source of my problems, and the source of the solution.”

Master Sensei Pacer likes to say that “nobody in the world moves like Sensei Pacer.”

Suzi Wong, Fytedancer

Sorry, Sensei Pacer, but I know someone who moves like Sensei Pacer! His name is Charles “Chaz” Wilson, and he is the inventor of Fytedance. In his own words,

Why can’t martial arts be sexy?…Fytedance is the ultimate holistic dance training system, and perhaps the ultimate martial art.

Charles predicts that Budo will replace monotheism within twenty years. Sorry, Charlie, but I know of a certain crew who isn’t going down without a fight!

* Thanks to Guro K of the Tulsa Arnis Club for introducing me to Sensei Pacer.