When we practice taiji, xingyi, bagua, or any martial art, we often focus on the movements. We put great time and effort (Gongfu) into making our movements as seamless and accurate as possible. And this is as it should be. Striving ever toward the unreachable perfect. Ever refining our being.
What we often neglect to give ample consideration to, however, is what we do before we set our bodies into motion. Before our will is made manifest. Before our intention is even formed. What is there? In the silent stillness, there is the One.
The concept of the One runs through every culture. The Chinese call it Wuji (無極) meaning "without polarity." The Germanic tribes called it Ginnungagap (the yawning chasm). Even in the Biblical creation story of Genesis we have the point at the beginning when all was formless and void, and only the Spirit was present over all and through all. This is the state before anything manifests into being. The state where there is nothing, and yet everything is potential.
This state of the One, the state of Wuji as we refer to it in martial arts, is of vital importance to us. This is true not only in our practice but in all that we do and all that we are. It is our beginning. It is the well from which we create. It is the foundation upon which we build. If it is not well established, then how can we expect anything we set out to do to be successful?
In martial practice, we often do standing meditations. Practices such as Zhan Zhuang (站樁) or "standing like a post" have been developed to help us comprehend the art of stillness. We use these to become aware of our bodies and to restructure them to be better effective. Likewise, there are many sitting postures. Through stillness, through emptiness, we can better grasp the feeling of ourselves, physically, energetically, emotionally, and beyond.
In my experience as an instructor, the practice of stillness is often the most challenging aspect of training for many students. In some cases I have seen it result in actual eruptions of pain and rage, almost as if inducing a panic attack. Modern society has conditioned us to be constantly engaged in some sort of external stimuli. We are constantly swirling around in a tumultuous pool of shallow thoughts. Seldom remaining long, we quickly hop on to the next shiny thing that catches our eye. This state of disordered vata, as it is known in the ayurvedic tradition, is a key component of many of the unfortunate conditions we find ourselves dealing with. Erratic thoughts lift our energy up and out of our body, disconnecting us from ourselves and our environment. Overactive impulses can eventually lead to nervous burnout and depletion which affects both the nervous and endocrine systems - the two systems which govern everything in the body.
We must take adequate time to consider the One. We must take the time to be still. Not only does our physical, mental, and spiritual health depend on it, but also our ability to direct our lives as we intend. In stillness lies all potential. We must cultivate an awareness of the potential. From this, we can carefully bring about what we desire.
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