ARTICLES QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS We sat and the master smiled. I had been told that he might answer questions if he was in the mood. “If you hit a bell with a pebble,” he said, “you will get a small sound. If you hit it with a mallet you will achieve a large sound. Similarly, if you ask me big questions, you will get big answers.” The onus squarely where it should be, I began. STUDENT: In most fighting arts, students have invariably approached and surpassed the achievements of their teachers. Why is it that none of your pupils approach you? Indeed, irrespective of how rapidly some have progressed, all of them fall far below your level. What is the secret? MASTER: You are right, there is a secret. But it is so simple as to be unbelievable. Its nature insists that you believe, that you have faith; otherwise you will fail. The secret is simply this: you must relax body and mind totally. You must be prepared to accept defeat repeatedly and for a long period; you must “invest in loss” - otherwise you will never succeed. I succeeded to my present state because I pushed pride aside and believed my master’s words. I relaxed my body and stilled my mind so that only ch’i, flowing at the command of my mind, remained. Initially, this brought many bruises and defeats. In fact, in some matches I was pushed so hard that I lost consciousness. But I persisted. I followed my teacher by listening to and heeding my ch’i. In crushing defeat, I forgot anxiety, pride, ego. By emptying myself I gave the full field to ch’i. Gradually my technique improved. Then, and then only, did my responses sharpen so that neutralizing and countering were the work of a moment. My students either do not believe in this path or, if they do, they do not pursue it eagerly enough. STUDENT: You make it all sound so easy. If the mind is “right” and the body relaxed, then progress must come, you say. But what of sheer hard work, regular practice, unremitting labor? MASTER: To reach mastery one must have recourse to the things you mention; one must work hard and never leave off daily practice. But we must be careful lest we make the work of T’ai-chi synonymous with that of Shao-lin. The latter generally is muscle, power, and perspiration smothering the mind. T’ai-chi, however, asks that you work with its principles always in mind. It is not enough to allot an hour or two daily for practice; the practice itself must be done correctly. Otherwise, it is a total waste. My teacher, Yang Cheng-fu, had been taught by his illustrious father, Yang Chien-hou, and at age thirty was teaching a rich official in Shantung province. Here life was easy and Yang grew lazy and fat. During this dissipation he returned to Peking and revelled in a life of debauchery. His father heard of this and ordered him home, where he imprisoned Yang in a bare room, isolated from all and everyone. For four years he was kept there and permitted no visitors except his father, who came daily to practice the solo and joint-hands exercise, as well as the stick techniques of T’ai-chi, with the degenerate son. During this period his accomplishment was far greater than throughout his previous lifetime, and he came out of the room after four years able to defeat easily those senior students of his father who a few years earlier invariably beat him. He was now a great boxer and the greatness never left him, even though, in later years he required little practice to maintain his efficiency. For this is a truism of T’ai-chi: if one progresses, there will come a point where mere physical practice is unnecessary. Reaching this point, one has breached the profound, and I will say no more on it now. STUDENT: In doing the postures how does one know when he is relaxed? MASTER: This is a subjective thing, this knowing, whereas the relaxation is objective. I would say a good start is made on relaxation when the student is able to go through a round without letting outside influences into his mind. But this is only the first step. The next step is to do the exercises in such a true manner that you are nearly exhausted at the conclusion. When your shoulders feel heavy you will know you are approaching real relaxation. This is a result of “swimming in air.” STUDENT: But do not the Classics say that the body must be so light that a feather will be felt? How do you equate this lightness with the exhaustion which comes from exercising against imagined resistance? MASTER: There is no contradiction here although it does sound paradoxical. You could, of course, do postures for five minutes lightly and quickly and not be tired. This would not help you relax. By doing the postures slowly, correctly, and against an imagined resistance you tire, but in a real fight your body is freed of the resistance leash put on it by your mind and becomes incomparably light, sensitive, adroit, and quick. STUDENT: As you know, I have learned T’ai-chi from several other teachers. I meant no disrespect to you, but since time was limited for both of us, and since I wanted to write of the varieties of T’ai-chi, I though it wise to learn as much as I could. Most of these other methods employ auxiliary exercises to enhance correct breathing, the postures, and overall agility. Are such exercises beneficial? MASTER: Only a teacher with a small art is jealous of a student’s instruction elsewhere. I welcome your sampling of other systems, for I know you will come to realize that you really have but one master in this art. The postures themselves are so fully rounded, so variable, and so beneficial that additional exercises will only detract from your progress. STUDENT: Is Shao-lin an excellent exercise and means of self-defense? MASTER: If I thought so, I would do it rather than T’ai-chi. As exercise, its emphasis on brute strength and muscle strain impedes rather than builds health. In fighting, since it can never go beyond reliance on strength, force, and technique, it never achieves true superiority. Without egotism allow me to say that on the mainland in my younger days I frequently met the challenges of all manner of men and my art never left me. STUDENT: Can one learn by watching? MASTER: One can learn something but, of course, not all. Practice is necessary. In this respect, there is the story of Yang Chien-hou’s neighbor, who secretly watched the T’ai-chi practice from his premises for several months and then asked one of Yang’s students to attack him. When the student complied, he was ferociously pushed down by the neighbor. Yang saw it and asked where the man had learned the technique. His neighbor, amused, responded: “From you.” A better story concerns Yang Lu-ch’an, perhaps the greatest of all T’ai-chi masters. Yang was employed by a druggist who had engaged famed T’ai-chi master Ch’en Chiang-hsiang to teach his sons. Yang secretly watched the practices and became so proficient that Ch’en accepted him as a full-fledged student. STUDENT: How important is the Pushing-Hands Practice? MASTER: Very important. You will not advance without it. But heed these things, I tell you now about the practice. It is better to push with a child than with a technically skillful man who uses strength - which, of course, causes you to use strength also. In pushing with a child, regard him as a man; in pushing with a man, regard him as a child. This may sound paradoxical but it is not. The child affords you a relaxed partner to practice with, but, while benefiting from his “relaxability,” you pretend he is like you, a man. This brings functional point to the exercise. Now, the other side of the coin. Why should one practicing with a man pretend he is a child? This is simply a diminishing process by which we rid ourselves of fear. It does not mean, however that cockiness will succeed departed fear. We empty ourselves of fear and pride alike. STUDENT: Isn’t the Pushing-Hands Practice dangerous in that in it you permit your opponent to touch your body? In a real fight wouldn’t this permissiveness be your undoing? MASTER: No. The Pushing-Hands Practice is only a means to an end. It teaches tactile sensitivity and discrimination. But it also teaches distance appreciation. In a real fight you do not permit your enemy to touch you, but you work as close to him as possible so that you may counter easily. Some masters have what we call receiving energy, with which one’s body not only absorbs an enemy’s strike, but also repels him at the same time. Some higher masters have this ability under subconscious control, so that they can be attacked from the rear and the enemy repelled ten feet by the force of his own attack, with the master hardly being aware of it. This type of person has no difficulty in a real fight. The more ordinary player, though lacking this ability, will find that the Pushing-Hands Practice has sharpened his senses and that it permits him to fight close to his antagonist, but without permitting the enemy to touch him. STUDENT: Chuang Tzu (399-295 B.C.) stated that a drunk man escapes injury because his soul is intact. Isn’t this protection what we seek in T’ai-chi? If Chuang Tzu is correct, wouldn’t it be easier merely to become an alcoholic? MASTER: To empty oneself is to conquer fear. This was one of the main goals of wu wei. This it was which enabled a Taoist, when he came to die, to build a funeral pyre and then calmly walk into the flames. (I interposed here that this quality of erasing fear was not unique to China. The lifelong discipline of the Japanese samurai was aimed at dying well, not to mention St. Lawrence, who, as he was being grilled alive, remarked to his torturers: “Turn me over, this side is done.” The master acknowledged this with a smile and continued.) True enough, a drunk’s inhibitions are released, his muscle tone depressed, and his body relaxed. But not entirely: a drunk will always find his way home. A drunk forfeits I [yi] (mind) and is thus at the mercy of circumstances. In T’ai-chi, on the other hand, we relax but keep an active comprehending mind. STUDENT: Why didn’t Yang Cheng-fu go to the West to make money with his skill? MASTER: Once a Chinese doctor returned to Canton from the United States and implored Yang to return with him. Both, he said, could reap a huge fortune. Yang refused. The West held no allure for him, nor did money. He was so wrapped up in his environment he desired no change. Extract from: Olson, Stuart Alve. ‘Steal My Art: The life and Times of T’ai Chi Master, T.T. Liang’. North Atlantic Books 2002, pages 76-77. Master Huang Sheng Hsien One day in Taiwan the famous White Crane Kung Fu champion and teacher, Huang Sheng Hsien, went to meet Prof. Cheng. Liang, who was present during their meeting, engaged Huang in Pushing-Hands and knocked him down almost immediately. Huang was both stunned and amazed. Liang said that he was like a small baby, and couldn’t figure out why he was considered such a highly skilled kung fu master. Huang, in typical Chinese fashion, quit his White Crane Kung Fu immediately and took up learning T’ai Chi. Liang remembers not only Huang’s true expression of humility, but his perseverance in learning T’ai Chi. According to Liang, Huang spent seven years just learning the T’ai Chi solo form in order to gain a root and develop his ch’i. Then for an additional seven years he just had people push on him, so he could develop his yielding and neutralizing skills. Lastly, he spent another seven years pushing on people in order to learn how to issue. Huang’s twenty-one-year learning program really impressed Mr. Liang. Many times I heard Liang comment on how he considered Huang to be the best living T’ai Chi master in the world, equalled only by one of Liang’s other teacher, Wang Yen Nien. Liang showed me a film that was taken in Malaysia of Huang’s famous match against a champion wrestler named Mr. Liao. In a decision of twenty-eight knockdowns to none, Huang soundly proved his T’ai Chi skills before thousands of people. Master Huang continued to reside in Malaysia until his death in 1995. He had thousands of students and was bestowed the nickname “The Grandfather of T’ai Chi.” Over the years Liang periodically received letters from Huang , wherein Huang would always humbly refer to Liang as his savior. What really impressed Liang the most about Huang was his unfailing trait of never speaking bad of others - no matter the rumor or situation. It was from Huang that Liang claims he learned the idea of “internally imagine yourself as already being a master of T’ai Chi, but externally never express it to others.”  
Persatuan Tai Chi Huang Tenom Sabah |
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