Breathing like a god

If Tai Chi (taiji) isn’t the next step in human evolution, then I just don’t know what is. Maybe adamantium claws–?

Think about it. Where’s the biggest gap in man’s understanding of hirself? Not in the body, marvelous as that is, and certainly not in the mind, which for all its weird effects basically operates like any computer. (Sometimes we use the word “mind” to denote the mysterious bits of mankind because they’re non-physical and, amazingly enough, a lot of modern thinking still hasn’t gotten past the old Descartes one-two, either-or. But we’re all intelligent here, so we can agree that dualism is ridiculous, right? Okay, great.)

The big mystery of man, to man, is the internal energies. For all that we know about our own mechanics and computations, when it comes to “the Force” that moves within us, as powerful and hard to grasp as a river, we’re utterly lost. Well, most of us are. There are these people who, many centuries ago, put the physical discipline of kung fu and the mental exercise of Taoist meditation together and found the key to surfing that river.

The discipline has been through a lot since then; some even say it’s dying, though I don’t myself believe that. (I live in Backasswards, MI during the decline of the American Empire and I’m within driving distance of at least ten places that teach some form of taiji, at least two of which are honest-to-goodness river-surfers. It can’t be that dead.)

Tai Chi is a real formulation for gaining awareness of, and eventually control of, that flow of internal energy. To have neither awareness nor control of it is to be almost pure animal, at the mercy of external circumstances, unable to manage even your own emotional state or mental content. (I think we all know people like that…) To have awareness is to at least have a fighting chance, to at least be able to decide not to react automatically.

But to have control of it? It’s possible that even the apt modern metaphor of a “Jedi Knight” doesn’t really come close to the kind of supernatural skill that would be possible if one really, really got the hang of it. Even a little control of Ch’i (that internal energy) appears to have enormous healing qualities and enable amazing physical and mental stunts. (My sifu claims to have met a master of the art who, when asked to demonstrate what tai chi could do, did the following: He stood with one foot/ankle, hip and shoulder pressed against a wall, and lifted his other foot off the ground. Those of you who a) know physics or b) have tried it, know how mind-boggling that is.) Reports of supernatural awareness–breaking the causal barrier, or knowledge/action-at-a-distance–are also not rare with regards to masters of the art.

The core of Tai Chi practice is the breathing. Since the physical act of breathing (moving air and its component molecules through the body) is very close to the non-physical act of moving ch’i through the body, it’s easy to see why the discipline wants you to get good firm control of your breathing asap. The technique is simple, but takes a lot of practice. (Fortunately, one can practice anywhere, without even getting funny looks.)

There are advanced techniques for directly managing ch’i flow, for gathering, storing, moving and releasing internal energy. But the first, most important trick, is to gain good control of your breathing, and learn to feel the energy that’s already there. It’s also stated, and backed up by many people, that simply this much mastery of one’s breathing can have enormous health benefits, mental and physical.

You can look up Tai Chi breathing techniques in many places, but I wasn’t able to easily find an article that described the simple technique I’m learning for accomplishing the above. So if you’d like instructions, click “read more…”. Have a great weekend!

Basic Tai Chi “awareness of ch’i and control of breathing” breathing:

1. You can practice this breathing anytime, including while talking or doing other activities*, but in order to get the hang of it, you want to start out doing nothing else. Sit somewhere comfortable with your spine very straight. (If you’re unsure how to straighten your spine, what always works for me is to imaging that you’re hanging by a string in the middle of your head. Hey, you’d make a nice Xmas ornament!)
2. Relax your body, except for what tension you need to keep your spine straight. Close your eyes, and then point your closed eyeballs at your third eye. This is just to help you focus (and it works remarkably well, IMO). Touch your tongue to the roof of your mouth, or fold the tip over slightly if that’s more comfortable. Check again to make sure you’re spine’s straight and that everything else is relaxed.
3. Draw air in through your nose, aiming to pull it down the center of your body like a ribbon — you want a thin, controlled stream of air rather than a big whoosh. Using your diaphragm, pull the air all the way down to your lower abdomen, specifically to the spot about 2 inches below and 2 inches behind your navel, if you can. (The spot is called the dan t’ien.)
4. You want your stomach to expand gradually as you breathe in, and contract as you exhale. Your chest and shoulders should not move at all, only your abdomen. Notice that as you exhale and tuck in your stomach, you have a lot more control of of the exiting air than you normally do.
5. Be aware that this takes practice — you may only be able to do a couple breaths like this at first. Keep at it; it starts to get a lot easier after a few months of regular work. Once you can do it for more than a few breaths, though, you can move on to the following visualization, which will help you detect the ch’i, separate from the air, that’s moving around in your body.
6. Next, realize that the air around you is just as full of energy as it is of oxygen (proven scientific fact, thankyou), and since taking in the oxygen is automatic, try to feel the process of taking in the energy. Feel it get sucked in through your nose, and travel down your spine to your dan t’ien. (You may not even realize that you’re feeling it, but think about this: Air can’t get that far, so if you feel anything reaching that spot in the center of your lower abdomen, you’re feeling ch’i.)
7. Now, when you exhale and contract your stomach, imagine gathering the energy into a ball in your abdomen while the air leaves through your nose (or mouth, though if you exhale orally, you will almost certainly need to make a hissing or hhhaaaaaahh-noise to maintain air control. Exhaling nasally is quieter.). You want to develop a rhythm of energy-in, energy-down, energy-condense-and-store, rinse lather repeat.

…And of course, there’s lots more to this practice, but that’s the basic skill to get you started. (I’m only just moving to one a little more advanced now, after six months of practice.) You will, if you practice it for a while, begin to notice the ch’i in your body during other activities. I’ve also been told that you can always condense ch’i in your body and store it; you can’t “overload” or anything, any more than you can “condense too much” oxygen out of a normal amount of air.

Of course, if you experience any severe physical discomfort (a little while trying to master the abdominal breathing technique is expected) or suddenly develop Jedi abilities, please contact a professional. I know two, one in Michigan and one in Illinois, and would be happy to give their names if you need ‘em. (If you’re in China, you’ve got the hookup already. ;)

Now. Wish me luck in the office lottery pool, and have a wonderful day!

PD

*You always want your spine straight, however. Not that you can’t move, but trust me, slouching makes this exercise almost impossible to do correctly.