Bay Fitness: The Art of Taijiquan and Qigong, Part 1

By Nathan Spivey

Many of you experienced life in this country in the 1960s, 70s, and 80s during your teens, 20s and 30s, and know that there was little emphasis or concern about health. I know that my parents, who were born in 1918 and 1919, were raised in the south eating pesticide-free foods from local small farms and personal gardens (called “organic” today); chickens and ducks that wandered around the land (called “free-range”); and meats from local butchers whose animals were “pasture-raised.” Hard work, walking practically everywhere, or a community dance was the closest thing to any “fitness” regime they knew about. While sitting on the main porch or veranda watching, listening, and feeling a thunderstorm or having an evening family conversation was their form of “meditation.”

We, the “Boomers” have witnessed and experienced many of the changes born during much of these 100-plus years. We have firsthand lifestyle and health experiences due to the changes that have occurred. Concurrent with this time period has been the advent of the presidential fitness recommendations for Americans, starting in the 1970s, along with introductions to traditional Chinese and India’s Ayurvedic medicines, yoga, meditation, therapeutic bodyworks, Qigong, Taijiquan, and nutraceuticals as wellness modalities. 

I’m privileged to offer some clarity regarding the meaning and practice of the integrative wellness systems called Taijiquan and Qigong. I say “clarity” because, having been involved with the learning, practice, study, and teaching of these internal arts for over 40 years, we all start from a base of innocence as to what it is we have signed up for. For example, most students begin their first classes with the desire to follow the teacher in performing the slow movement for 45 minutes to an hour, then leave with a sense of whatever calm and centeredness they’ve acquired until the next class. However, when told that they will be “learning” how to do the movements, there is a quiet confusion that arises. Learning for us involves mental retention, tests, written papers, grades and more grades all of which determines our sense of “self worth” in society! For many, learning can be somewhat traumatizing, therefore, to be avoided. Plus, can the promise of achieving, through the practice of taijiquan, some degree of “meditation in motion” really be worth whatever learning is involved? Absolutely and profoundly, “Yes!”

As a matter of fact, the learning of the taijiquan is downright enjoyable in my classes – because I enjoy it so much, it kind of osmosifies (my word creativity!) over to the student. There is nothing about the learning and practice of Taiji that I have found to be so serious that it can’t be appreciated and enjoyed. We all come to the class with desire and hope that we can experience a change, for the better, in our balance, coordination, mental focus, cardio and immune functions, and more.

Why should the improvements in our well-being be laborious? We all have experiences, over the decades, doing and feeling things that have contributed to unhappiness, anger, confusion, and such, why do something that will just continue self abuse? Learning to change and improve our patterns of behavior, and to continually reinforce those feelings of positive growth is the true purpose of Taiji and Qigong. They do this through a lifestyle well-being practice that is based on a system of four pillars, each of which is gradually incorporated into your learning.

Initially, one important insight is the understanding of the phrases “Taijiquan” and “Qigong.” You may have heard or read that the translation of T’ai Chi Ch’uan is “supreme ultimate fist,” denoting its classification as a martial art. That spelling arose from the work of two men (names Wade and Giles) in the late 1800s and early 1900s to Romanize the Chinese language for Western readers. Knowing this system, one could pronounce the words relative to the added apostrophe. Ch’ is equal to saying “cheese or chicken,” whereas, without the apostrophe, the ch alone changes to a “j” or “g” sound. As with any language, native speakers will understand you if you’re saying the words correctly. But for various reasons, most writings for Westerners left out the apostrophe. Thus Chi is being pronounced as “chee” instead of “gee.” Really, does it matter? T’ai Ch’i means “supreme energy,” which is the consistent benefit of practicing T’ai Chi: “supreme ultimate.” Furthermore, you can Google Qi (which is the newer way to write Ch’i) and will see that there are many words spelled and pronounced “Qi,” all with a different Chinese character word image!

Question: if you just read Ch’i or Qi, how do you know which one is being alluded to? Hmmmmm.

I look forward to sharing more with you in future issues about Taijiquan and Qigong. Until next time … 

Move into Health

Nathan Spivey lives and teaches Taiji and Qigong on Maryland’s Eastern Shore. He began his journey with Grandmaster Mai Bochan (aka: Bow Sim Mark) in 1977. His knowledge increased when he studied in 1988 at the Zhejiang College of Traditional Chinese Medicine in Hangzhou, China. Nathan has been teaching since 1983, and gives presentations and workshops about integrative wellness.