Heart us invisibly thyme time
round rose bud fire downland
bird tread quagmire dry gill-over-the-ground
stem-square leaves-cordate earth race horsethyme
breath neighbors a mace nays
sorrow of harness pulses pent
thus fruit pod split four
one-fourth ripens unwithering gaping
—Louis Zukofsky, first stanza of 80 Flowers, 1978
round rose bud fire downland
bird tread quagmire dry gill-over-the-ground
stem-square leaves-cordate earth race horsethyme
breath neighbors a mace nays
sorrow of harness pulses pent
thus fruit pod split four
one-fourth ripens unwithering gaping
—Louis Zukofsky, first stanza of 80 Flowers, 1978
Truth is not something I can tell you because it cannot be explained. (Poets miraculously put it into words.) But if I were to work with you, one to one, then I guarantee we would touch it together and you may even feel it. It is like a small bud in the heart aching to bloom. Thymos, as well as Greek for 'life' is a tiny bud of thyme.
One of the most common questions I am asked is: What is the difference between Taiji and Qigong?
That's easy. Taiji is a martial art so its principal energy is Spirit, whereas Qigong is a class of energy exercises, and its principal energy is Qi.
The next question is always: What's the difference between Spirit and Qi?
Spirit is the vital animating spark that brings things alive or wakes things up, whereas Qi is a pervasive energy prevalent in Nature, especially in Living Nature.
Life requires both but Spirit precedes Qi.
When walking in Nature, experiencing its beauty and vibrancy then you are feeling Qi. If you are suddenly startled by a noise in the undergrowth and your hackles rise and your senses sharpen then you are experiencing Spirit.
The good student is not the one regularly attending class or the one doing lots of practice or the one hanging on every word from the teacher's mouth but the one who is learning. John once said to me: You do realise that you only started to learn anything from me after Max (my son) was born? And I remember it well. Even though the added commitment meant I couldn't practice all hours as before, the birth of Max woke me up and charged me up and suddenly I was able to really hear what John was saying and then put it into practice. Learning, like everything else, is a matter of spirit.
When, at 16, it was time to chose A-levels to study at school, I was decidedly undecided. Expected & pressured to do three sciences and try for Oxbridge, I realised that my first love was poetry and my greatest talent was art. So I compromised and chose Physics, Maths and English Lit. And I must admit that the depth of thought I put into Shakespeare far surpassed anything at University, including the PhD.
GOLDFINCHES
into a settled
order of things
into an understanding
a gust
of goldfinches
they flock to larches
to waste and stubble
to feed on seeds
of thistles and teasels
the hearts of sunflowers
nest of roots and bents
flight a dancing a twinkling
song of tinkling variations
wings gilded
a rose hip for a head
after the storm
thorns stripped bare
ragwort in rags
the day in tatters
until brushed by a wing
—Thomas A Clark
My favourite quotation is still Nietzsche:
An even cheerfulness is the reward for a long, brave, diligent, subterranean seriousness for which, admittedly, not everyone is suited.But I realise now that this cheerfulness is not a reward but a requirement. Without it the work will surely send you mad.
When students would complain about where they were living, or pine for their origins, their roots, John would often quote the Daodejing:
In dwelling, think it a good place to be.
Love where you are, where you find yourself. Love the place, love the earth, the ground, the people, despite their faults, otherwise rooting will be impossible.
Ultimately everything is a matter of heart.
In dwelling, think it a good place to be.
Love where you are, where you find yourself. Love the place, love the earth, the ground, the people, despite their faults, otherwise rooting will be impossible.
Ultimately everything is a matter of heart.
Developing a disciplined sitting practice is a matter of commitment and patience. For many practitioners, it is not easy, even for those who have been sitting for a while. Sitting every day must become a priority in our daily lives rather than just one more thing we have to do.
—Narayan Liebenson Grady in Joan Duncan Oliver (ed), Commit to Sit, 2009
—Narayan Liebenson Grady in Joan Duncan Oliver (ed), Commit to Sit, 2009
Early in his training John asked Liang about Qigong. Liang explained what it was – energy work – and advised John to get a Tibetan teacher because the Tibetans have the best Qi. So John found himself two Tibetans residing in London: Geshe Damchö Yonten (1930-2017) and Chime Rinpoche (1941-) with whom he studied both Qigong and Tibetan Buddhism. After a couple of years he began to have doubts about the work and asked Geshe "Is Qi internal?" to which Geshe replied "No, of course not." He then went on to explain that Qi is no more internal than muscular strength.
In Taiji we engage & work with the two natural forces of gravity & levity. Gravity pulls the body down onto (and eventually into) the Earth. Levity lifts the spirit up to (and eventually into) the firmament – the expanse of an ever-expanding universe. The natural function of the mind is to equilibrate these two forces rather than think to itself. When I think to myself then gravity overpowers levity and I need to right the balance by waking up & letting my spirit soar. All of our problems, as individuals & as social members, stem from the incorrect use of the mind, from idle thought.
Let’s look at it practically: you pour cream into black coffee and look at it. What do you see? Passively: Enough, not enough, or too much cream. A little more awake to the moment: Wow, what a swirl! Very engaged in seeing: Look, a dragon! That’s a range of intensity and concentration in viewing what’s at hand. A matter of degree that verges on a difference of kind.
Awakeness/awareness is an intensity. So intense it becomes creative.
Roger Ackling was a British artist who used a magnifying glass to carefully burn lines into small pieces of driftwood he found on his local beach in East Anglia. Each piece, although usually only pocket-size, would take hours of patient and attentive concentration to complete. For me this is a perfect image of meditation: carefully focusing the light of the mind on a point and allowing time to drag that point into a line. Lines burnt in light.
The second time John visited T.T.Liang in Boston in 1972, Liang picked him up at the airport.
"How's the Taiji going?" he asked.
"Oh it's terrible! I'm sure I'm going backwards."
To which Liang smiled and replied:
"Ah, sign of progress!"
Progress in Taiji is always a softening – a falling away of all you thought you knew – and as such is difficult and often painful.
This all requires time! Often an entire lifetime, a time that must remain in harmony with the rhythm of life in general, that of the universe and that of other living beings, which the candidate to the spiritual must respect, and even try to aid if such is their wish.
—Luce Irigaray, Between East & West, 2003