I’ve tried like hell to avoid blogging about politics on Taijiquestion.  For a number of good reasons.  But I guess I’ll just get this off my chest.  Since the news tells of another major, key endorsement for Barack Obama:  http://www.nytimes.com/2008/05/14/us/politics/14cnd-edwards.html?_r=1&hp&oref=slogin

Hillary C., I’m not a big fan of yours but I respect you, for the most part, and I would have voted for you over John McCain (who is a good man and probably the best candidate the Republicans could have put forward).  But now you have an important job to do: help to elect the first African-American president of the United States, a good and great nation that unfortunately permitted slavery, a terrible, evil, immoral, sinful, unjust thing, in the past.  And the end of slavery didn’t bring the end of slavery-like abuses.  But things have changed and they need to keep changing.

What did you say in one of your speeches some time ago, Hillary?  “Now is not the time to turn the clock back!”  That was typical of you, Ms. Clinton.  Some of your supporters like my friend said that Obama lacks substance.  No more than you do!  When I heard what you said I thought, “Gee, Hillary, what WOULD be a good time to turn the clock back?”.  But you were already in your mode of playing to the reactionary/sound-bite crowd.

In the future, assuming America has a future, we will have woman presidents, just like other countries do.  Maybe one of them will be named Clinton.  But you and your husband made a big deal out of your racial fairness, progressiveness, right-mindedness.  Get your mind right, Senator Clinton.  Sure this disappointment has got to hurt like hell.  So, just ask yourself if you are being martyred… or if the world has gone topsy-turvy… or just maybe if you need to be a real, real big person and do the right thing with all the power, all the… character?… that you possess.

 This is from a book called A Brief History of Qi:  

 “…so that the lifeblood of their art might become indistinguishable from the vast qi of nature. Such cultivation was the bedrock on which the foundations of Chinese art were established. Liu Xi Zai of the Qing Dynasty (1644 C.E. –1911 C.E.) made this clear. In his book Conception of Art (Yû Gài), there is a discourse titled “Treatise on the Conception of Calligraphy (Shu Gài):

The best is to cultivate the shén [spirit].

Next is to cultivate the qi.

Last of all is to cultivate the form.”

 

 

I think I know a little bit more

About things than I did before

When I thought I knew a little bit more

About things than I did before.

What is more useful?

A knot, or a string that is

Not a knot — not yet.

The only thing we

Do directly in taiji

Is talk about it.

I tend to think of myself as not being particularly ego-driven.  But just now I was fooling around, re-reading a few of my old posts from a year ago, and this one hit me in the right way.  Like, I need to consider this all over again.  So I’m reprinting it!  Not the Taijiquestion yak-yak, just the meat of the article (see below).

I had a strange reaction to the Olympic torch being carried to the top of Mount Everest.  I’m an amateur mountain climber and rock climber, as I’ve mentioned before.  I do not use equipment, so Everest is forever beyond my grasp and also most of the expert-level climbs around the world.  That doesn’t bother me.  I just want to get higher than I am.  Also, as Captain Jean-Luc Picard once said of climbing, “There’s just something about holding your own life in your hands”.  And how, Brother!

But what I usually think about Everest in recent years, is that the world’s highest mountain ain’t what it used to be.  It has been climbed solo, it has been climbed without oxygen tanks, and it is climbed all the time now.  I think this is called progress in climbing science.  But it ain’t progress in exploration, it ain’t progress in new frontiers, it is not even progress in adventure.  So — what’s next?  That’s a question we must all answer for ourselves.

But climbing to new heights is always the goal for some of us.  I’m a Capricorn by the way.  One of my co-workers who’s very knowledgeable about astrology ran a professional chart for me, after I provided my exact time and place of birth.  The results were very startling.  Someone who didn’t really know me at all well was able to penetrate some deep aspects of my personality… things I barely tell myself, but which are clearly true once examined.  I’d like to remain skeptical — but results speak for themselves!

In the Chinese zodiac I’m a Rooster.  I’m still looking into that and don’t have much to say yet, except that luckily I’m not incompatible with my Rat wife and Tiger son.  Meanwhile I try to understand things like this here exposition:

>>>>> ”Before beginning this instruction, it is important, I think, to understand the difference between Host and Guest.

 In the Surangama Sutra, Arya Ajnatakaundinya asks, “What is the difference between settled and transient?” He answers by giving the example of a traveler who stops at an inn.  The traveler dines and sleeps and then continues on his way.  He doesn’t stop and settle there at the inn, he just pays his bill and departs, resuming his journey.  But what about the innkeeper?  He doesn’t go anywhere.  He continues to reside at the inn because that is where he lives.

 ”I say, therefore, that the transient is the guest and the innkeeper is the host,” says Arya Ajnatakaundinya.

  And so we identify the ego’s myriad thoughts which rise and fall in the stream of consciousness as transients, travelers who come and go and who should not be detained with discursive examinations.  Our Buddha Self is the host who lets the travelers pass without hindrance.  A good host does not detain his guests with idle chatter when they are ready to depart.

 Therefore, just as the host does not pack up and leave with his guests, we should not follow our transient thoughts.  We should simply let them pass, unobstructed.

 Many people strive to empty their mind of all thoughts.  This is their meditation practice.  They try not to think.  They think and think, “I will not think.” This is a very difficult technique and one that is not recommended for beginners.  Actually, the state of “no-mind” that they seek is an advanced spiritual state.  There are many spiritual states that must precede it.

 Progress in Chan is rather like trying to climb a high mountain.  We start at the bottom.  What is our destination?  Not the summit but merely our base camp, Camp 1.  After we have rested there, we resume our ascent.  But again, our destination is not the summit, but merely Camp 2.  We attempt the summit only from our final Camp.

 Nobody would dream of trying to scale Mount Everest in one quick ascent.  And the summit of Chan is higher than Everest’s!  Yet in Chan, everybody wants to start at the end.  Nobody wants to start at the beginning.  If beginners could take an airplane to the top they would, but then this would not be mountain climbing, would it?  Enthusiasm for the achievement is what makes people try to take shortcuts.  But the journey is the real achievement.” <<<<<

(This text is from a website called J.Crow, it’s now in my links as “Empty Cloud”)

One of the (damn, wish I could employ a more macho-sounding word) charms of studying the eastern martial arts, is the doorway into the past.  For me, it’s not so much the last few hundred years, which are full of relatively well-recorded information.  So many masters, so many styles, so many families, so much history.  Some people are quite expert in these areas.  Maybe one day I will know more, to study history is good mental exercise.  Especially when the history lives, it is not just a dry recital.

But for now what really gets my juices flowing is peering into the remote past.  Antiquity.  Ancientness.  The roots.  Simple people doing simple things to live and stay alive.  But not so simple people, not so simple things.  But simple.

Like what could be more simple than an ox-tail?  That is the question.  Once in the Philippines I tried kare-kare, that’s oxtail in peanut sauce.  Didn’t like it — and it was the most expensive item on the menu!  My mistake.  The first time I dined with new friends in the Philippines, I just ordered rice.  No one could believe the crazy American.  Just give me rice I said.  I like rice.  Plus my stomach was bad from the airline trip.

But in more recent years, the first time I got my hands on Professor Cheng Man-ching’s teachings, it was quite a discovery.  And what small thing do I seize upon that I haven’t yet let go of?  CMC mentions something about an “ox tail dance” in olden times.  And how part of our taiji is reminiscent of that.  I found that fascinating.

But it’s been hard to follow-up on.  All things in due course, I suppose.  Every so often I take a stab at chasing the ox’s tail, and what do I get for my trouble?  Not much.  Take a look at this link if you want a good laugh.  Actually I don’t mean that.  It’s a translated version of an article on folkways and when I tried to read it I realize the translation maybe not so good!  But it is oddly enjoyable and fun to try to figure out what is being imparted here.  Once I read a long interview with an MA master whose english was not too good and it was real mental exercise to follow what he was explaining.  But I got one phrase out of all that talk that I had never heard anywhere else… it was a big piece of the puzzle.

http://library.thinkquest.org/05aug/00999/one%20home%20one%20drum1.files/page0008.htm

Glad I’ve gone back to reading the new York Times more frequently.  They sometimes get slagged for being left-of-center, but wot the heck, a class act is a class act whether or not it resonates with your own personal style.  You should see what passes for a newspaper where I live.  But they too once had a lot of class and substance.  Time changes all things here on Earth… sometimes not for the better.

Speaking of change, I noted this article that discusses a change we hope to forestall: the — for lack of a nicer term — degradation of our mental faculties as we enter into the later stages of life….

http://www.nytimes.com/2008/05/03/technology/03brain.html?ex=1367553600&en=429f42c57b8364b5&ei=5124&partner=permalink&exprod=permalink

There is some buzz on this topic currently regarding mental exercise; the “use it or lose it” school of thought.  Seems like a good thing to pursue.  Most of us need to be smarter, cleverer, more imaginative, more creative, better at solving problems, better at reaching good decisions, better at using emotions effectively, better at memory capacity and management, better at knowing when to quit talking… whoops, that’s me.  Actually the whole list is for me, other folks might have a somewhat different list of upgrades to the old cranium and its contents.

So my point was… that is, I needed to remember to say… oh yeah, when I started exploring taiji some years back and pretty quickly fell down the rabbit hole, I began to realize that it was less about physical kung fu and more about nonphysical kung fu.  That just came as a surprise to me.  But when I realized dimly what a complete package taiji had to offer, I knew that this was what I wanted.  Something I could use to keep improving myself on a daily basis between now and that final reunion with heaven and earth.

Had to go into the City yesterday morning instead of my usual work.  Traffic, traffic.  All the crazy drivers… me too.  Car-crazy America.  A model for the world.  But driving has its pleasures.

Just sitting in a cushy seat, looking out at the world going by.  And there’s always a chance to practice something.  Like remembering stillness.  A little kernel of it, anyway.  So I did and I noticed that reactions that arise out of stillness are different than reactions that arise out of not-still.

Sitting still, standing still.  What do we mean by that, it seems redundant.  But no… it’s better to sit or stand well, without fidgeting.  Without wishing to be someplace else.  If you wish to be someplace else, then go.  But you can’t go and stay at the exact same time.  Not even in taiji…             :)

Have you ever rung a bell or a gong and then struck it again too soon?  The sound is different, not round and full.  Attenuated.  You don’t want to ring out when you’re already ringing.

As an amateur musician I know a trick for this.  Whether drum, cymbal, or string, sometimes you need to stop the ring.  Or things will get sloppy.  So you touch the sucker in an adroit way to instantly quiet it.  Then you’re ready for what’s about to happen.

Well, I am certainly a creature of habits.  Can’t speak for other people.

Once or twice when close associates have expressed displeasure with my current performance, I’ve told them, “Sorry — I’m a creature of habit, and I see my ways aren’t cutting it any more.  Give me a chance to revise my habits, and you won’t be sorry”.

And now this article from the New York Times.  I would have linked to it anyway but I was fascinated to see it included this bit:

“Try lacing your hands together,” Ms. Markova says. “You habitually do it one way. Now try doing it with the other thumb on top. Feels awkward, doesn’t it? That’s the valuable moment we call confusion, when we fuse the old with the new.”

I’ve been doing this training for some time now!  I discovered years ago that it felt terribly strange to cross my arms over my chest the opposite of my usual way.  I decided I needed to work on that.  Then more recently I picked up on the lacing fingers thing.  Same principle, same kind of retraining.  Now I have a little mudra, so simple but with a purpose, that I can do anywhere, anytime.  Anyway:

http://www.nytimes.com/2008/05/04/business/04unbox.html?ex=1367553600&en=e1243d427937195c&ei=5124&partner=permalink&exprod=permalink