Plum Blossom Time-Part 2

Originally posted on FB November 25, 2014-

PLUM BLOSSOM TIME – PART 2

(The long-promised follow up and “Lessons Learned” post about my experiences at the 2014 Plum Blossom Federation tournament in San Francisco)-

As I wrote in Part 1, this tournament was a great experience. Recent events have made me even more grateful for this experience. I became unemployed as of last Friday, so I’m even more grateful that I went while I could afford to make the trip. These tournaments are always great learning experiences, and this one was no exception.

Here are some lessons I took away from this tournament, along with some things I learned about myself:

Mentally, you need to be ready to go the minute you walk through the door. Certainly you want to stretch, warm up, and have some quiet time, but the schedules typically fluctuate at these events, and your event could come up sooner than you think. I was outside stretching and warming up when I heard the first call for my Tai Chi hand form event. I had to dash back in, and stash my backpack under one of the judges’ chairs because there wasn’t time to go back to my seat. This is where visualization comes in-I had already” walked through” my routine mentally shortly after I arrived at the arena earlier that morning.

You need to find a spot to warm up, and you may need to be a little aggressive in “claiming your territory” to do it, especially in a smaller venue. I’m not suggesting anyone act rudely, but once you begin your warmup, you don’t need to give that space up and move just because some people drift into that area and start socializing. They can always find another spot. I will say, though, that this type of practice should be limited to stretching and hand form practice-find a more isolated spot for weapons practice.

Every venue will have its quirks, and you simply have to deal with them-it’s part of being a martial artist and a competitor. For example, the Kezar Pavilion (site of the Plum Blossom tournament) is a very small venue. It doesn’t have a lot of open space where you can stretch, warm up, etc. This means you’ll probably end up outside, on a less than perfect surface. You need to be prepared for this mentally, so it doesn’t throw you off. Also, they don’t put down mats on the floor. You’re performing on a very shiny, slightly slick basketball floor, so it might help to wear different shoes than you normally would at school. (I’m glad I ended up not doing Push Hands this year; several competitors wearing the same kind of shoes I had slipped and nearly went down during their bouts.) After my “mad dash” to the first event, I learned that if I went outside and stayed near one of the emergency exit doors on the sides of the Pavilion (some of which were opened for ventilation), I could clearly hear all of the announcements, and get back inside in plenty of time for my event.

This tournament really showed me the value of staying relaxed, and just experiencing the whole event, without expecting everything to be “perfect” or to go a certain way. Keeping this in mind actually helped my confidence a lot when I went on the floor. Sure, I practiced a lot leading up to the tournament, but consciously choosing to stay relaxed built on that and really made the difference. I was much more aware of everything I was doing-not only did this state allow me to make some “real time” corrections in my form as I went along, it really enriched the whole experience. I had hoped that someone would get a snapshot or two of me performing, and was initially a bit disappointed when that didn’t happen. The more I reflected on it though, I realized that I had wanted a picture of myself, but didn’t NEED one to fully remember and reflect on my experiences – I know what I did that day, and what it felt like, because I was truly “there”.

The awareness also allowed some more of my natural determination to kick in-as so often happens, you’ll practice a particular part of your form multiple times and execute it perfectly, only to run into trouble when you actually perform. There is a toe kick sequence in my flute form, which I must have practiced 10-12 times outside and felt really strong doing it. Sure enough, during my performance, the right leg rose up into the crane and I started to feel wobbly. I had a quick internal argument with myself, where I debated tapping my toe and starting that section again. Ultimately, in my mind I said, “NO! I did not endure all of the practice, and come all this way, to let down now. I will hold my crane and do my kick, even if I look wobbly and score poorly because of it. I will NOT walk off this floor feeling disappointed in myself.” I held on, and finished the kick, although it was a bit shaky. (In the interest of full disclosure, though, when it turned out I’d tied for third and they asked me to come out onto the floor again, I was intensely relieved that the judges only asked us for a 30-second performance. This meant I wouldn’t need to do the kick again since it was near the end of the form. My feeling was more along the lines of, “Woo hoo! I get to go again!!’).

This was a significant competition and a significant performance for me in both events, and I’m so grateful I was able to go and participate.

One Night At Practice....

Originally posted on Facebook April 17, 2014-

Good class and practice session tonight. We did our Tai Chi outside because the adult sparring class was working in the main room. It was chilly outside (does not feel like April), but a very slow run-through of the 24 Step form got us warmed up. Went inside for a little bit of standing meditation. All of this apparently got me more relaxed and focused than I realized:

Toward the end of my solo practice session, I was working on some details of my weapon form, particularly the opening move. In this move you do an inward swing and strike, finishing with your elbow down and palm facing upward. In the last 6 inches or so, you flick your wrist a bit and "snap" the flute. I was working on the details and timing of this, and flicked a bit too much, "snapping" the weapon right out of my hand.

What happened next was really cool-everything sort of went into slow motion, as the flute did a 180 degree flat spin in the air in front of me. I swear I could feel my eyes moving as they tracked it, and my hand just stayed open, rotated a bit and shifted left about 3 inches, to basically let the flute come back into my hand. No grabbing for it, no jerky reaction, it all just happened-pretty cool!! I will NOT attempt a repeat of this at the tournament.

Reflections On The Learning Process

Originally posted on Facebook, April 12, 2014-

Wow-Some things have started coming together in my martial arts practice in a most interesting way, really just over the last few days. Throughout my life, every so often I've had a recurring sequence of events occur when I was trying to learn something-typically some type of physical activity. I'd reach a point in the process where I knew in my heart that I was just not connecting with the teaching method being used, and I probably never would. This usually led to a lot of frustration, sadness, harsh self-criticism, and going into a kind of passive withdrawal. The end result was either quitting the activity, or holding my frustrations in until things just boiled over, with unpleasant results for everyone around me.

Over the years, I learned to deal with this by essentially figuring out how to get what I needed on my own, whether that involved seeking other instruction, or spending a lot of time on my own figuring out how to teach myself what I wanted to know. I would put on my "mask," go to school, lessons, or whatever, then retreat as soon as I could to a private time and place where I would figure things out for myself in a way I understood, then practice relentlessly. I came to really enjoy this private time, but always wondered why things had to go so far, and I had to feel so badly about it. In the end I'd make progress, sometimes, a lot of progress, and whoever was teaching (or thought they were) would congratulate themselves on doing a hell of a good job. I'd just smile behind my "mask," and say to myself, "if only you knew." Effective, but not the most healthy process.

My big breakthrough is that I saw this happening with a portion of my martial arts practice, and was able to "read the signs" thins time, and take some proactive steps in a healthier manner, which will help my learning, and keep me from alienating some people around me.

Try as I might, I have had minimal success in improving at Push Hands, our Tai Chi combative form. (Not enough space to explain Push Hands here-suffice it to say, it involves a lot of sensitivity, intuitive thinking and action, and improvisation. All things which I find very difficult to learn). I've felt really lost at this for a long time, and no matter how insightful and helpful the comments my training partners and instructors would offer after a bout, it wasn't enough-I needed to find a way to FEEL all of this.

I came to realize that I really needed to break this down into small chunks to learn it properly. I needed practice in sensing the opponent's energy, getting used to the idea of being pushed so I don't overreact, and learning some basic attacks/counter moves that I don't have to think about. I did some reading and was really interested to learn that there are literally hundreds of Push Hands drills/exercises you can do with a training partner or instructor that develop and hone those very skills. The light went on, and I told myself,"that's what you need to do-that is how you will learn and master this." Focusing on the components of this I think will help me "get" this at a gut level, which is exactly what I need to do. With that base of skills, I can progress into the more intuitive/improvisational aspect of Push Hands, which really interests me.

So, what was different this time? I read and researched, as I typically do, but I have a teacher who will listen to me (very important), and I was able to articulate my needs and my ideas for training more clearly than I had in the past. Feeling like there is someone there who is willing to help you, and not interested in being "right" at all costs makes a difference. I gave my teacher one of the books I'd found, and asked him to work with me on some of the drills and exercises during my lessons. Once I have those down, I can ask other students to train and practice with me. Over the long run I think this will benefit me a lot.
I'm proud of myself for putting this together and taking action before my frustrations either led me to quit or soured my attitude. I love my training too much to have that happen. What's really cool, is two days after I shared this with my instructor, some of my classmates brought up similar ideas in an informal discussion after class. Ms. Cabrera and Mr. Duvall-I really appreciate and agree with your comments and suggestions regarding practicing certain attacks, defenses, etc. in class, then moving to the freestyle play. It's like you read my mind! I'm interested to see what happens next.

Year One - And Beyond

I had every intention of writing a piece to mark my first anniversary at White Dragon last summer (I started in early July). However, the process of learning, growth, and development doesn’t always fall into the time periods framed by the calendar and the clock, and personal milestones don’t always line up with the somewhat arbitrary ones of the outside world…..

During my first year at White Dragon, I was carried along on a wave of enthusiasm. There was the excitement of the school tournament, the Dragon Cup, and other special events at school. It was all new, and everything was especially fun when you tried it for the first time. In recent months, though, things have taken on a more meaningful and interesting tone. I feel like I'm finding my place, with martial arts in general, and in my school. Specifically, a number of things come to mind.

First, I am finding it easier now to learn specific forms or portions of a form. Typically, anything physical takes me a long time to learn, and I need a ton of reps to really get things down. I feel better and more confident now that I have learned and memorized more of the 24 Step form. I still have more to learn, but now I find I’m able to move more quickly into what I call the “refinement” phase of learning the forms. My process (which quite honestly has been heavily influenced by my instructor, Mr. Roper), is to learn a sequence of movements first, then go back through the sequence of steps/forms and work on the finer details, such as timing, hand position, etc. This has built a lot of confidence, and made me more motivated to practice, which in turn has made my practice more productive and enjoyable.

Sometimes I've felt like I don’t “know anything yet” because I haven’t learned the complete 24 Step form, but that really isn’t true. I now know 90% of that form, plus most of a weapon form (5 Elements Flute). In addition, I know some basic Qi Gong exercises, and about 50% of a rather complex Qi Gong form, along with some basic Choy Li Fut stances, kicks, and strikes. I’ve felt all along that I’ve been gradually learning and improving, but looking at it from a broader perspective shows me that I’m developing a varied repertoire of kung fu skills and techniques-I actually know quite a bit.

In addition to these specific abilities, I feel like I've also developed a greater respect for the art of Tai Chi itself, as well as an appreciation for the opportunity to "cross train" a bit in Choy Li Fut. While I enjoyed all of my classes and lessons, it took time to understand more of the subtleties of what I was learning. I began to understand that Tai Chi was more difficult and challenging than met the eye, and that this was true on multiple levels. As I got more experienced, I did see increases in strength and flexibility, but each new portion of the form was more challenging than the last, becoming more physically demanding. I also began to understand the concept of "gaining strength organically"-building whole groups of muscles, large and small, by performing an activity, as contrasted with working specific muscle groups in the gym. You could think of it as getting in shape to do martial arts by doing martial arts. (I’m reminded of something Brian Enos says in his book, “Practical Shooting: Beyond Fundamentals”-at some level, shooting is shooting, regardless of what you’re specifically doing/practicing. In the same way, you could say, “it’s all kung fu”)

The mental side has really started to come together, too, especially in martial applications. In Choy Li Fut, you may learn specific types of strikes and kicks, directed to certain parts of the attacker's body. You will also learn specific types of blocking techniques. In its martial applications, Tai Chi might best be described as more "conceptual," where one movement, such as Brush Knee or Fan Through Back, can be used to parry/redirect an attack, then transition into a strike or even a joint lock. This takes a long time to learn, and I definitely have a long way to go, but I've gotten much more comfortable with it over the last few months.

I’ve started thinking of it somewhat like improvising on a musical instrument, as I did when I played bass guitar in my high school jazz ensemble. You start to see the connection between the scales and basic patterns that you play when practicing, and the walking bass line or melodic/rhythmic bass line you play in a song, and you apply the basics to the song without thinking about it. A Tai Chi analogy might be a classic form like Brush Knee, which you perform in a very specific way as part of the 24 Step form, compared to flowing into and out of Brush Knee in a martial application-going from a parrying move, to a push or palm strike, or stepping into another stance to deliver a kick. Each time you experience this flow of movement, even for a brief moment, it builds confidence and, for me at least, brings other ideas/applications to mind.

I've come to realize that this martial art is easy and incredibly difficult at the same time. I've developed a greater appreciation and respect for what I'm doing and learning. My limited "cross training" in Choy Li Fut has helped, too, by gaining strength and coordination, and just getting a little insight into the difference between the styles. I appreciate the opportunity to experience this. I’ve also been able to apply my capabilities as an independent learner to my training more effectively as things have come together for me. I’m getting better at structuring my solo practice to build on and refine what I learn in group classes and my lessons.

At the same time, I'm really feeling like I have really "found my place" at my school.* Sometimes (for me, at least) when you get into a new group of people with a shared interest, it’s natural that you can be swept up by enthusiasm and a desire to bond. So, as your classmates share ideas, training techniques, and even just opinions and beliefs about martial arts and related subjects, you can tend to take these things strictly at face value, or reflexively emulate them. I think this is especially true if there are people in the group whom you particularly admire and respect for their skill, work ethic, etc. I think of it as a "positive peer pressure" environment-what strength coach Mark Rippetoe refers to as “the reinforcement of behavior through group participation and group approval.”

Still, you ultimately need to evaluate all of this information and decide what really works for you as an individual, working through the process of examining and evaluating all of the ideas, interests, and theories for yourself. I find that if I ignore this evaluation process, eventually I begin to feel uneasy or irritated, like something isn’t “right.” This has been my experience over the last few months-watching, learning, thinking, and evaluating.

I remember an art instructor I had in college who would present a concept or technique, then ask the class, “how are you going to make this your own?” For me, "making it my own" has been part of the process in my martial arts training over the last few months-both the specific techniques and concepts I’ve learned in class, and some of what I’ve seen, heard, and discussed in and around school. I’ve considered and evaluated much of this, and have begun to decide what really works for me. I’ve also re-learned that even if it’s not something I want to do, or something I feel is a good fit for me, I can still learn from it. (Funny how those little life lessons keep coming back when you need them; you just need to pay attention :-)) For example, I’m not interested in an ultra-strict diet or running a marathon, but there is something I can learn from the people who are doing those things, which can benefit my own dietary habits and physical training.

Ultimately I hope that my classmates might discover there is something they can learn from me, as well. I know I’m not the most “social” individual at school, but I am approachable, and if there is something I can share which helps someone, I want to contribute and be part of the school community.

Finally, I’ve been able to branch out a little through the tournaments and seminars, where I met some people from our other White Dragon schools. These experiences reminded me that I am part of a larger martial arts community, beyond even my martial arts family at White Dragon of East County. I’ve kept in contact with some of the people I met at these events, and have come to think of them as my “kung fu cousins.” Meeting students outside my school and feeling accepted by them as a fellow martial artist has increased my confidence in my skills, and my enjoyment of the overall training experience.

So, while my “anniversary” at school, and the experiences and knowledge gained during my first year there don’t comprise a neatly wrapped package which fits perfectly in a calendar time frame, my first year of martial arts was significant to me (and always will be). But perhaps the biggest lesson here is that the learning is like the strength I’m gaining through my practice-organic, developing at its own pace, sometimes with surprising results, and it won’t stop unless you do.

*I'm not saying that I ever felt "lost" at the school, it's more that I've come to feel comfortable there on a deeper level over the last few months.

Plum Blossom Time



Last month, I went on a little martial arts adventure to the Plum Blossom Championship tournament in San Francisco. I saw an announcement for it at school, and found out that anyone who is a student at a Plum Blossom Federation school is eligible to participate. I was excited about the possibility of going to this event, but honestly didn’t feel that I was ready to compete in it, so I discussed it with my instructor.  We both felt it would be a great learning experience for me to attend and watch, so I decided to go. I’m glad I did, because it was one of the best experiences thus far in my brief martial arts career.

I left San Diego on  Friday; unfortunately, my planned “free time” in the City By The Bay was eaten up by flight delays, so I arrived much later in the day than I had planned. However, I did arrive in time to relax and unwind on Friday evening, so the day wasn’t all frustration and waiting around. Saturday morning I headed out for the tournament, with my camera charged up and ready to go. After the traditional Lion Dance to start things off, the tournament got underway. I was lucky enough to find a great seat right in front of the two rings where all of the Tai Chi events were held, and settled in for a full day of competition.

Like the Dragon Cup, this tournament has a wide range of competitors, both in age and rank. But competing against other schools in the Federation, as well as performing in front of Grandmaster Doc-Fai Wong seemed to motivate everyone to a higher level of performance.

With Tai Chi competition in the two rings directly in front of me, plus all of the Choy Li Fut events, there was so much to watch it was almost overwhelming at times. Mainly, I stayed focused on the Tai Chi events, but many of the Choy Li Fut performances were very impressive and grabbed my attention as well, particularly the weapon forms. In addition to hand forms, I saw weapon forms in both disciplines that I’d never seen before. The tournament also featured a lot of Choy Li Fut two person sets, which I had really enjoyed seeing at the Dragon Cup in May. The two-person sets using various combinations of weapons were particularly impressive.

There were a lot of little things to see in the performances. Some were subtleties reflecting the skill and experience of a particular martial artist, some were a result of the way a competitor had been taught, and some were simply personal style. All of this made the individual competitors interesting and enjoyable to watch (and kept me busy taking photos). I did pick up some little things which I can incorporate into my own practice, but more than that I was inspired by the skill of so many different people of all ages, sizes/shapes, and levels of ability.

Looking back on the day, here are some of my specific impressions and memories of the tournament:

•  Not everyone is as fortunate as the White Dragon schools when it comes to a venue for their tournament. The Plum Blossom Championship is held at the Kezar Pavilion in Golden Gate Park.* This facility was built in the 1920’s, and is very small (4,000 seats) compared to our tournament site. Inside, there is very little floor space other than the basketball court itself, so there is almost no open area to stretch, warm up, or just have some quiet time before going into the ring.  While the amenities may not be the best, everything seemed to run smoothly-the tournament staff seemed to keep things moving without a lot of high tech aids, and the overall atmosphere of the event was very congenial. Also, while the seating may not be that comfortable, spectators are closer to the action than they would be in a newer venue. Since I was there to observe and learn as much as I could, I appreciated the smaller scale of the Pavilion.

•  It is truly a special opportunity to see the instructors compete. There were impressive performances by students in every category, but the instructors were on a level of their own. Their years of work and dedication were very evident in everything they did in the ring. We students know our instructors are highly trained and very skilled, but sometimes I’m not sure we fully realize how much professional pride they have in their abilities and training. This was clearly evident in the quality and intensity of the performances when these ladies and gentlemen took the floor. Another special aspect of seeing your instructors perform is the opportunity to show your appreciation for them in a very public manner. When an instructor takes the floor or receives a medal, and his or her entire school is on their feet applauding in front of everyone else, that is a memorable moment.

•  Push Hands in the 4-5 year age group is about the cutest thing you will see at a tournament like this. The little ones tend to do their circling with their upper body and arms only, sort of a “1-2-3 Go!” action, but most of them did really well with the Push Hands concept of redirecting their opponent, and not getting into a force-on-force shoving match. They were also the only division of competitors to conclude their medal ceremony with a group hug.

•  I appreciate the hospitality of our White Dragon “extended family”**. A group from our Mira Mesa school noticed my White Dragon shirt, and invited me to sit with them.  I really enjoyed and appreciated this friendly reception from some of my “kung fu cousins.” Since I was at the tournament on my own, it was very nice to have some other White Dragon students and instructors to watch the competition, eat lunch with, and just enjoy the day.  One of the Mira Mesa students was kind enough to drive me back to my hotel at the end of the day, saving me the cab fare (and giving me some more time to enjoy talking kung fu with a fellow student instead of sitting in a cab).

Overall, it was a great experience-everything I was expecting, and more. I learned a lot from observing so many skilled and talented people, and was inspired by what I saw to work even harder in my own practice. I definitely want to go back to this tournament as a competitor, and hope that a lot of my “kung fu brothers and sisters” from White Dragon East County can join me and experience this great martial arts event.

*This little arena has a rather colorful history. When I mentioned it to the front desk clerk at the hotel, he told me that for many years the Kezar Pavilion was home to the SF Bay Bombers Roller Derby team, and various wrestling events. Apparently this building has seen plenty of punching and grappling over the years, even before the Plum Blossom Federation held its first championship there.

**This made the day all the more enjoyable. Although I tend to keep mostly to myself at events like this (not being anti-social, just fully involved in observing what’s going on, taking photos, etc.), I  appreciated this group reaching out to me and including me. We have a GREAT community atmosphere at our school, but we are also part of a larger clan, so to speak, and events like this provide an opportunity to connect with and learn from our extended family of fellow martial artists. I hope to see some of these people again at future White Dragon events.

Lessons

Push Hands class and practice session 2 weeks ago was one of the more frustrating experiences in my time at White Dragon.  My initial reaction was to just write it off and move on. I had commented to a friend that I didn’t get much out of the evening, but that’s really not true. It’s more that the lessons weren’t that obvious until the evening’s emotional fog cleared.

At the moment I’ve got really mixed feelings about Push Hands. I find it really interesting and challenging, but right now I hate it. I know it’s an important part of fully learning and experiencing Tai Chi but right now it’s so frustrating that I find myself less than enthused Monday nights at kung fu, because I know I’m in for a half hour of frustration and feeling inept. Push Hands is one of those very “intuitive” things that I occasionally find very hard to learn. I find myself thinking too much about what to do next (the strategy aspect is what I find most interesting-where are your opponent’s weak spots, and how can you counter their next offensive move?)

One of the benefits of Push Hands is that it shows you the weaknesses in your own form, as well as developing the “listening energy” to sense your opponent’s moves and intentions. Right now, I’m a regular smorgasbord of weaknesses and gaps in my form. My stances have improved somewhat, but that’s about it.

I freely admit making one of those mistakes we all find it hard to stop ourselves from – comparing myself to others in the class, and feeling frustrated that I’m not doing as well as those around me. You know your confidence will be challenged by learning something new and unfamiliar, but after you’ve been at it a while you can also start getting down on yourself about what you think you “should” know or be able to do. This is a dangerous time when learning any new activity, because it’s easy to get discouraged at this point.

With all this running through my mind, I wasn’t able to sense much of anything, and I certainly wasn’t emotionally detached. Monday’s class was really full, so we worked with a lot of different people, each for a pretty short time. One of the better parts of the class was it provided a good stance challenge-I had to get down really low when I was playing with some of the kids. (Normally we’re paired off with someone who’s close to our height and weight). The rest of it was a fog of frustration and feeling inept. 

After class, I went out back to practice my Tai Chi forms. I have come to think of this time as my “reward” for enduring the Push Hands class (That mindset really needs to change, but for now, that is where I am about it mentally and emotionally). It’s not that my forms are perfect, but I do feel more confident about it than I do about Push Hands, and there is something about solitary practice and going over things in detail that I really enjoy.  I left school that night feeling a bit like I had wasted the evening. The only value I could see at the time was that I’d gotten out of the house and gone to school-I’d been consistent with my training, if nothing else. Over the next few days, I reflected on it more, and I came to realize I was wrong. Several important lessons came out of what I’d initially thought of as wasted time:

• If you’re putting forth sincere effort, you will always get something back. Maybe you won’t see the big improvement in your form, etc., but there is always something. Is your endurance and leg strength better? Is there an improvement in even the smallest aspect of your form?

• When in doubt, or feeling like you aren’t focused, go back to the basics. I closed out my solo practice with some basic stance training, and a little time just practicing the Push Hands circling motion. Practicing fundamentals is never a step backwards.

• On reflection, you’ll typically find that you didn’t do as badly as you thought. There’s a pretty good chance you did something right, especially if you’re putting out some honest effort.

• Do what you need to in order to calm yourself down. Going out back and keeping to myself for a while was really helpful. I was able to get back on an even keel emotionally, after feeling like I was “upside down” during class.

So, what is in store for next Monday? No big changes in the short term, but I’ve asked for some Push Hands help in my private lessons. I still have two “extra” lessons that I won in the January contest, and I’ve already talked with my instructor about dedicating them to Push Hands basics.

There are always “lessons” and learning experiences available – sometimes you just have to look a little harder for them.

Epilogue-
The following week's class was much better; I got some compliments on my improvement from a senior student who is quite good at Push Hands. This past Saturday, I noticed that one of my friends at school had devised a very clever form of solo practice. I had been practicing the circling motion as part of my stance training-she took it to the next level by basically doing the same thing with the heavy bag. By starting it in motion, the bag gained its own energy in a way, and my friend was keeping contact with it and circling, just as you'd do with a Push Hands partner. By closing her eyes, she was practicing "listening energy", sensing the bag's movement and direction with no visual clues. I will definitely have to try that!!!

June 20, 2013

Last one of my migrated FB posts...

Great night at Kung fu; much better than Monday (still pondering the lessons of Monday night-will probably write more on that later). In Tai Chi we worked on practical applications of the Single Whip. Applications practice can get confusing at times because you're not executing the form exactly like you do in form practice. It can be quite a mental challenge visualizing what an opponent might do and how you can counter it-more free form and improvisational than you might see in other Kung fu forms. I need to keep thinking of it that way, and draw on some of the mindset from my days in the jazz ensemble at school. Made lots of noise and got some aggression out in CLF kicking class-I drove Mr. Roper into the front row with one of my snap kicks. (Bad Kung fu joke alert =:-0)- You might say I "unhorsed" him . :-)

June 6, 2013

Tai Chi'ing, punching, kicking, and working up a good sweat. Love it!!

June 5, 2013

Missed Monday at Kung fu because I wanted to get a little more therapy on my back, so last night ended up as my Tai Chi solo practice night. After group class, I went back over all I know of the 24 Step form to date. Need to get back into that more and polish it up. I worked on some of the weight transfer refinements Mr. D. taught us a couple of weeks ago and incorporated that into the form. I'm sure it looked pretty sloppy but ultimately my form will be much improved. Also practiced the "right hand" version of everything I know of the form so far. I'll need to do this for my first fringe, so may as well start practicing it now. Finished off by practicing what I could remember of the 5 Wheel Horse.

May 17, 2013

From FB-

Moving toward the next level of leg strength in Tai Chi. Last night's entire class was devoted to footwork and stance training, and it was a tough and educational experience. We focused on moving REALLY slowly, while maintaining control and being very conscious of where our weight was, and when we were truly ready to shift weight from one foot to the other. Learned some new exercises to practice, which will help with overall form. Anyone who thinks this is easy didn't see how sweaty we were after this class.

The evening's kicking class reinforced the need to develop leg strength and balance-I've been away from this for a while practicing for the tournament, and realized that I'd lost a little strength and balance during that time (I did make it through the Horse Stance challenge at the end of class, though :-)) Although I'm not going for a rank in Choy Li Fut, I do want to learn these techniques properly because I can see the benefits to my overall strength, balance and coordination. Although I enjoy the intensity of the workout, I think I'll take some of the kicking more slowly to begin with so I get the technique down properly. Always more to learn and practice.... 

Dragon Cup

I brought this over from my FB page; my thoughts/impressions of our tournament in May.

May 6, 2013

Some impressions/moments/random thoughts from Saturday's Dragon Cup tournament-

I think the tournament experience taught me more about my practice and preparation than about what to do at the actual event. I can definitely make some changes in my solo practice that will help improve future performances.

Watching a lot of others perform reinforced my belief that it's more important to me to really master something than it is to advance quickly through the ranks. It's not so much about the next stripe or sash, even though they represent significant milestones.

It was hot in there! Will definitely wait longer next time to get into that 80 % polyester shirt.

Will definitely bring all my own food next year.

I enjoyed being there all day and taking in the whole experience, but will probably come a bit later next year and seek out a bit more quiet time before going onto the floor.

I'm happy for all of my classmates who won medals, but especially for my classmates Ms. Cabrera and Mr. Truong - I know those two worked especially hard. And we can't forget Miss Truong (aka "Little T") who was just as excited about her brother's medal as her own.

As usual I was impressed by Ms. Cabrera's display of what Sir John Keegan called "The Will To Combat" - she battled through a lot of pain and effort and prevailed.

Next year-Push Hands! And one of these days a weapon form too.

April 27, 2013

Some pre-tournament thoughts (originally posted on my FB page)-

Another great Saturday at kung fu-our tournament is next weekend, so we won't be back to the normal Saturday routine for 2 weeks. Used my lesson today with Mr. Roper to look beyond the tournament, and continue learning more of the 24 Step form; still have 2 more stripes to go. Afterward, I went out back and practiced more tournament form-feeling pretty good about it, although there are always thin...gs to work on and improve. Took shelter from the sun for a little while, then went inside for Qi Gong. I appreciated the opportunity to relax-we had a little emergency at home yesterday, so I was a little wound up over that. Nice to just breathe deeply and relax with some slow movement.

Just a few more days to practice for the Dragon Cup. One of the last things I have to master is lacing up my kung fu style shirt to wear with my uniform on tournament day. I have a feeling that I'll need to practice this in front of a mirror for a while, sort of like tying a necktie. On tournament day, I may need an instructor or one of the senior students to inspect me before I go into the ring....

January

I am sinfully late in writing about this, but on reflection that may not be all bad. This was one of those experiences that you don't fully appreciate until you've had a chance to look back on it.

Just before the holidays, I had expanded my martial arts routine by adding in some basic Choy Li Fut punching and kicking classes as a way of improving my conditioning and strength. When the new year arrived, our school provided an opportunity to take that even further.

The school put on a "Battle Of The Bulge" contest for the entire month of January. The goal was to see how many group classes you could attend during the month. The adults and kids with the highest totals at the end of the month would receive a prize of four additional private lessons with their instructor, and a free one month membership for a friend or family member.

So, off we went. I increased my participation from 4-5 classes per week to 9 or 10, depending on how late I wanted to stay on Saturdays. At the end of each day's classes, we would list our daily total on a sheet posted on the bulletin board (an interesting lesson for some of the younger kids in using tally marks).

Reflecting on it now, this was a really fun and challenging experience; I also think it was something of a bonding experience for a lot of people who participated. Some of the things I remember-

• Learning the Horse Stance and some of the basic Choy Li Fut footwork and stances, like the Hard Bow and Cat Stance. Choy Li Fut footwork is different than our Tai Chi style, so this was a challenge, especially learning to pivot on the ball of my foot rather than the heel. I'm still not very good at that, but I do see a lot of conditioning and balance benefits to my Tai Chi from some of this footwork, so I'm interested in practicing it more for that.

• Meeting more of the students at school, both new students and long-time students who participated in the challenge. Previously I had only been in the Tai Chi and Qi Gong classes, so I didn't know many people outside of those groups.

• Learning to make noise when delivering a kick or a strike-quite different from our silent Tai Chi practice.

• Participating in classes led by different instructors-since I was participating in more classes, I think I eventually attended a class led by each one of the instructors. It was interesting to experience their different personalities and teaching styles. I connected more with some than with others, but learned from all of them and I'm very grateful for that.

• Having a moment of panic one night when Mr. Marcos told us to move across the mat while performing 7 different kicks or strikes. When my turn came up I thought, "Wait-do I even know 7 things?"

• Dashing out to the car at the end of the night; it was pretty cold in January and I was always soaking wet after the vigorous workout.

• Reverting to a Tai Chi move one Saturday during a drill where you were surrounded by six other students, each holding a kicking bag. The object was to strike in all directions, either with hands or feet, as the bags touched you. I did pretty well to begin with, using fists, elbow and knee strikes, as well as a rear kick. Then two of the little ones closed in on me from about my 9-12 o'clock. I instictively moved forward into a Brush Knee and swept them aside with my arm. I can still hear them scolding me, "Mr. Simons! You're supposed to kick!"

I diligently kept track of the classes I participated in, both on the score sheets at school and in my day planner. I enjoy looking back occasionally and remembering the whole experience.

Toward the end of the month I ran out of gas when I came down with the bug that was going around during the winter. I missed a couple of days, and didn't make it back until the first Saturday in February. I was really pleasantly surprised to find out I had won a prize; by my tally I was in about 6th or 7th place. I must have made it to more classes than I thought.

All in all it was a great time-I kicked off my New Year's weight loss by losing 5 1/2 pounds over the course of the month, not to mention noticing some of my clothes fitting differently (it's not all about the scale, thankfully). I was encouraged and allowed to push myself-but at my own pace. I felt like I developed some strength and balance that I didn't have before, and have continued to build on that in the months since January. I feel more a part of the school than I did before, and that means a lot.

I can't wait to do it again next January.

Shadows

This past Saturday, I skipped my usual group classes to practice some Tai Chi outside. One of the other more senior students was there, and offered to practice the 24 Step tournament form with me.

I took a spot behind him and to his left, so I could follow his moves, but mainly so I could match his tempo. I'm trying to really get this down well and make it smooth, so I really wanted to keep a slow deliberate pace.

We practiced together for about 30 minutes, and during that time we began to lose our shade from the nearby tree. I started noticing our shadows on the ground as we moved. At one point I thought to myself, "this is really cool-it's like we're flying in formation or something."

It was a good day of practice, capping off a week where I really noticed some growth. In that moment, I really felt strong and graceful-maybe in my mind's eye I was flying.

Steps

I'm really pleased about the improvements I've noticed in my strength, balance, and movements over the last couple of weeks in class. In addition to my regular Tai Chi practice, I've been going to a lot of the Choy Li Fut basic classes for exercise and conditioning, and we're currently learning a form in our Qi Gong class which involves a lot of (slow motion) pivots and kicks. We've really been drilling on this a lot over the last few weeks, so I've had a lot of practice. I  notice that my balance is better, and I am able to extend and hold the kick without as much trouble as I had before.

I still have a lot to learn and work on, but, I'm pleased and excited to actually see some results. Sometimes it can be very frustrating and you feel like you aren't progressing or learning anything, but if you really pay attention to the little things, you'll see that you've actually come a long way-the progress is just in very small increments sometimes.

Several years ago, I met and chatted with a master gunsmith from Texas named Alex Hamilton. Mr. Hamilton was talking about the nature of his work in general, and mentioned an assignment he'd had in gunsmithing school. The story seems an appropriate analogy for my recent progress:

As an exercise and practice in cutting and shaping metal through using various types of files, each student was given a two-inch square block of solid steel. The assignment was to reshape this cube into a perfect smooth sphere by removing metal with an assortment of coarse and fine metal files-all hand work, no machining.

When I look at myself and perform my forms and exercises now, I can see the cumulative results of a lot of small changes. The sharp corners have been knocked off, and something (and someone) different is beginning to take shape.

Saturdays And A Place For Me

For a while now, I've reflected on how much I'm enjoying my martial arts training, and what it's come to mean to me. I typically attend classes three days a week, but I especially look forward to the classes I do on Saturday, which consist of two basic Choy Li Fut* classes, and a class in Qi Gong movement and meditation.

I've been pondering how to put this coherently into words, and a question Saturday from one of the instructors pulled everything into sharp focus, like operating a camera's zoom lens. He asked each student how they were doing, and how their day had gone so far (my first class is at noon). When he came to me, I replied that I was doing well, and was glad that it was Saturday. He asked me, "Why? Are your weeks difficult or troubling?"

I replied that they were sometimes, but mostly that I was glad it was Saturday, because that meant it was time to come to White Dragon. That's when things pulled into focus for me-yes, I am glad it's the weekend, yes, I'm challenging myself, learning new things, and enjoying it, and yes, I'm enjoying the people in our school community-my "Kung Fu brothers and sisters," as our head instructor likes to say.

But in that moment, the gut-level reason for my enjoyment of martial arts, and why I look forward to Saturdays (and my twice weekly night classes) sharpened itself to a point and pulled clearly into focus:

I needed someplace to go, just for me.

If you were to logically examine what my life has been over the last 3-4 years, this might not seem to make any sense. With all that was going on, the last thing I needed was another schedule commitment, especially during my weekend time-or so it seemed. I was involved in a stressful project at work, which demanded a lot of overtime and travel to the project site. My mother-in-law was in failing health, which meant my wife spent as much time with her as she could. This meant that I was responsible for handling almost everything at home in order for her to be able to care for her mother, along with providing emotional support to my wife. A close friend was experiencing a rough time personally, so some of my time and emotional energy was devoted to them as well.

My weekends were supposed to be time for me to recharge, not to "have to be somewhere". Yet I was finding that, when I did have free time on the weekends, I wasn't doing much of anything, and sometimes when I headed back to work on Monday, I'd feel somewhat sad and frustrated, like I had missed something.

All that started to change when I started my Tai Chi classes. It was something I'd wanted to do for a while, and since I wanted to get in as many classes per week as I could, I decided I would make time on Saturdays to attend. I found myself looking forward to class, especially on Saturdays (I enjoy the weeknight classes, but sometimes getting there is a bit of a "push" schedule-wise, so I need to unwind and prepare myself mentally more than I do on Saturdays). My weekends now had a little structure, and I found that I liked that.

Beyond that, I began to feel like I was part of a community-something bigger than myself (even though my training was for my benefit and enjoyment). I felt welcomed and encouraged from the beginning. That isn't always the case with activities like this-it's natural that people with common interests will form bonds, but at times this can lead them to feel (and act) like the martial arts school, the gym, yoga class, shooting range, etc. is their "private club", and newer people tend to get ignored. I've never felt that way at White Dragon.

Our head instructor likes to talk about our school community, and our "Kung Fu brothers and sisters." The more time I spend there, the more I appreciate it, and want to do my own part in making everyone feel welcome. I feel like something really special has been created there, and we all need to respect and nurture it.

So, Saturdays are different for me now. I don't devote the entire day to training, but my day is definitely built around it. I've got time for other things in the morning, and after I get home in the afternoon, clean up, and eat something, I've still got free time left for other activities and duties, or just for quiet time at home. But the core of the day is my class time. It's a comforting routine that I've come to look forward to, and hate to miss.

So, yes, Mr. C-I'm always glad it's Saturday.

*(Choy Li Fut is the other martial art that's taught at our school-it's what most people would think of as "Kung Fu". Since our school stresses the martial aspects of Tai Chi along with the health benefits, it's all kung fu to us. Although my training emphasis is on Tai Chi, I am allowed to attend lower level classes with the Choy Li Fut students. I find it's good for conditioning; like an aerobic kickboxing class, only more intense and focused on technique, and it's helping with my balance as well.)

Up Off the Couch

After Thursday's class, I was thinking about how effective (read, "painful") the Tai Chi stance training was. So Sunday, while I was enjoying the NFL playoffs on TV, I decided to get in a little more training. I would get into the Horse Stance or one of my Tai Chi stances during commercials (or the endless replays) and hold the stance as long as I could. I also followed some tips a classmate gave me, and worked on my balance with all my weight on one foot. One thing you learn pretty quickly doing this is that you're not perfectly symmetrical-you can balance better on one side of your body better than the other. It will be a worthwhile goal to even this out, so even if one side still feels stronger than the other, neither one will be wobbly.

"As long as I could" turned out to be less time than I wanted it to be, but it's more than I could have done even a few weeks ago.

Saturday Training

This Saturday, we had our 3-hour "Mega Class" at White Dragon. This is an event the school just started; the first Saturday of every month will be "Mega Class" day. I wasn't able to participate for the whole thing (Had some chores to do in the morning, and also had my first lesson of 2013 scheduled during the 3-hour period). I'm not sure I could have made it through the whole 3 hours, as I'm still getting my strength back as I recover from my winter cold.

I did an interesting mix of things during the class, both Tai Chi related, and some basic Choy Li Fut kicking/punching exercises, a lot of which were new to me. I probably looked pretty silly doing some of the drills, but I was working hard and that felt good.

The more I do this, the more I realize how crucial your lower body and leg strength it is to martial arts (and so many other activities). Tai Chi is deceptive because you're moving so slowly, but it works your legs really well. Since I've started in the basic kicking/punching classes, where you spend a lot of time in the Horse Stance, that's just ramping up my leg strength (it hurts, but I know I'm getting stronger).

After the Mega Class, I went to my regular Qi Gong class, which quieted things down. We've been working on an elaborate sequence of movements over the last few weeks, but set that aside for some breathing/stretching and standing meditation. I was pleased that my legs didn't hurt through this exercise; occasionally I can get a little wobbly during standing meditation, and my legs and feet often get sore. Didn't have any of that this time, which made me happy.

All in all, a very satisfying two-hour workout. Next month, I'll be sure and stay after for the monthly showing of a cheesy Kung Fu movie.

Back At It

I'm back to posting after a long absence, and back to my martial arts practice after staying away for about a week due to a winter cold. All of my plans for extra classes/practice during my holiday time off vanished in a fog of clogged sinuses and headaches.

Prior to getting sick, I had ramped up my number of classes, to get in more conditioning work. At our school, all students are allowed to attend the lower level classes, regardless of your main discipline. The additional classes I'm attending focus more on the basic movements and techniques of Choy Li Fut (what most people think of as "kung fu"), and are an excellent upper/lower body workout.

Went back to class for the first time Thursday night. I was glad I went, but the 90 minutes of classes took a lot out of me; I could definitely tell I'd been sick. Getting back on track at school and on the blog.

Observations From The Studio

I spent some extra time at White Dragon (the martial arts school where I practice Tai Chi) this weekend; I had an opportunity for some additional practice and one on one time with an instructor. I had a productive practice time (more on that later), but also noticed some things that I might have missed during a busier time.

Tai Chi has several advanced forms where you use a wooden staff, or some kind of replica edged weapon (dagger, saber, spear, etc.). As I got ready to leave, I noticed a young lady who was obviously preparing for a test of some kind. In one hand, she held a red-handled dagger, in the other, her student logbook, where your instructor records your progress, and results of your tests. She was intently reading the logbook while practicing dagger moves; it made for an interesting sight. One of those times I wished I had a camera; it just struck me as amusing, to see someone reading a book, and practicing with a weapon at the same time.

On the subject of weapons, something else happened over the weekend that was a perfect (and somewhat reassuring) example of the strength of ingrained habits and repetition. I was heading out the back door of the school when another student came through the door with her spear (pretty much all of the weapons practice is done outside due to space limitations). As she entered the building she lowered the spear to get through the door-a bit too much for my taste, since that put it right about eye level for me. Nearly 30 years' experience with other types of weapons kicked in-without even thinking, I simply said, "Muzzle!"*

I don't think she even heard what I said-I think just the sound of my voice got her attention, and made her raise the weapon up-she was quite mortified, and apologized. I just thought my reaction was interesting-she did not have a firearm, but I saw something pointed at me, and reacted just as I had been trained a long time ago. Just thought it was funny how that kicked in, in a completely different context.

As I mentioned, I had a really productive session-I worked on some of the opening moves of the 24 Form routine, and learned the transitions between them, which for me seems the hardest to remember. So excited about getting more of this down that I practiced more at home on Sunday.

* I have nearly 30 years' experience as a competition shooter-during the 90's when I was really active I was also certified as a Range Officer, so I could work as a match official. In Range Officer school, we learned several specific words/phrases to warn competitors if they were doing something potentially unsafe (if someone did something definitely unsafe, it was pretty simple-you just said, "STOP!") "Muzzle" was our warning if the firearm began pointing in an unsafe direction.