Cat
Walk like a cat.
(Wu Yu-hsiang)
Walk like a cat?
Despite
Wu's suggestion, very few tai chi people
walk like a cat.
Beginners treat the art like an
external system and rely upon deeply
bent
knees and wide stances for power.
Their seeming root is accomplished
through physicality not energy.
The jing of 'root' is created by not-doing, by
allowing - not by squatting.
Deep, solid stances do not emulate a cat's walk.
A cat is a vibrant creature, supple and soft. Its body is extremely
flexible and
agile.
Its paws are placed softly and tentatively.
It can withdraw the paw upon
placement because the weight has not been transferred immediately.
The
paw also
opens and closes as the cat steps.
The steps themselves are soundless and gentle - like Kwai Chang Caine walking on
rice paper back in the early 1970's.
Lumbering?
How do you step? Sensitively? Feeling the weight shift within the
foot? Softly? Carefully?
Or are you a tai chi rock, planted deep in the ground, self-assured in your
immovability?
Many beginners refuse to walk like a cat, and
deny their own vulnerability.
When they are attacked with the rubber training knife they are slow to move.
Instead of stepping cleanly and naturally, they lumber from fixed stance to
fixed stance like a rusted robot.
(They also fail to evade the training knife).
If the essence of the person is weak and fearful, he may put on a gentle
act, but the reality he manifests is hard. A person compensates for internal
weakness by becoming aggressive and defensive.
A transformation is required, one that cannot occur when a person sees
tai chi as an empty dance or a shoving match.
(Wolfe Lowenthal)
Agile & responsive
Have you ever watched how
a cat responds to perceived danger?
The entire body moves as one, drawing away from the threat, coiling and
expanding.
This is akin to the
amoeba-like movement tai chi students acquire
from
reeling silk exercises if they take their
training far enough.
The cat evades and counters without hesitation or doubt.
It moves.
A cat can go from complete passivity to
combat readiness instantaneously.
It does not tense
muscles and prepare.
It just moves.
The cat does not psyche itself up, rock,
dither or demonstrate any of the
characteristics you often see demonstrated by human fighters.
Only a skilled tai chi person tends to move
smoothly and
calmly in response to threat.
Most beginners are
jerky and
tense.
Cats?
So why are we thinking about cats?
Martial arts schools commonly use predatory animals on their logos:
bears, tigers, panthers, snakes or mythological beasts like dragons.
Tai chi is not that
sort of art. Not in our school anyway.
If you read the
tai chi classics it speaks of
softness and subtlety, quietude, of the weak
defeating the strong.
Imaging yourself a bear hardly seems appropriate.
We mention cats because a cat possesses the innocuous spontaneity and suppleness
we seek in our school of tai chi.
The cat moves easily and comfortably.
It does not adopt extreme stances and finds balance without effort.
In the world of tigers and bears, the cat is small fry.
Ordinary. A cat minds its own business but will
defend itself if required.
Page created 18 December 2000
