TaiChi ABC Chapter 1: The Path to Martial Arts Mastery

How does one enter the hallowed halls of martial arts? "Don't think, feel." Bruce Lee's words are direct and to the point—man is as his fist. Kung Fu isn't born of contemplation; it emerges from sensation. It's a golden nugget refined through his experiences.

Kung Fu begins with feeling and evolves through understanding. In the internal martial arts classics, there is a repeated emphasis on the role of the "heart," not the "mind." The "heart" is the master of sensation, while the "mind" governs thought.

Aesthete Zhu Guangqian once said, "'Feeling' is passive, allowing the sensory and spiritual aspects of the natural world to move me" ("On Silence" by Zhu Guangqian). However, for beginners in Kung Fu, feeling is an active, focused endeavor, capturing sensations with the mind.

What is capturing? When learning a new language, listening involves concentrating on meaningful combinations of sounds amidst an unfamiliar cacophony to comprehend the message. Once language proficiency approaches that of a native speaker, the effort to "capture" becomes second nature. You navigate effortlessly through the ocean of meaning, like a fish unaware of the water's presence. This marks Zhu Guangqian's stage where "feeling is passive."

In reality, isn't every form of art about capturing sensations? Actors capture subtle emotions, painters capture changing hues, and musicians capture celestial melodies. Poets capture fleeting inspiration. So, what should internal martial artists capture? Internal energy—this is the key to initiation.

"Teacher, how does one cultivate the 'qi' in martial arts?"

"Qi is inherent. From the day we are born, we possess 'qi.' It's just that later on, we get accustomed to exerting force and forget about the existence of 'qi.'"

"What does 'qi' feel like?"

"At this point, language seems inadequate. Come, let's engage. Listen to yourself, feel it. Now, I release my joints, relax my muscles, focus my spirit, and 'qi' emerges. Can you feel it? Okay, now it's your turn to let me 'hear' it."

The above is a snippet from a teacher's instruction. Martial arts involve both theoretical knowledge and experiential understanding. In the transmission of knowledge, experiential understanding is especially crucial and precious—something you encounter but cannot seek.

Internal energy is intangible; during the demonstration, the teacher uses internal energy to leave an imprint, a sensation, on the student. The student must capture and remember this sensation, striving to reproduce and interpret it during practice. In this process, the teacher acts as a guardian. They listen to the student's interpretation, ensuring the sensation is captured accurately. Then, the teacher demonstrates again, and again, and again— from instability to stability, from uncertainty to confidence, until the student masters the art. This ensures the student doesn't develop a false sense of accomplishment.

From the student's perspective, this capturing is a mental activity. Martial artists must use their perceptual systems to capture that sensation. The sensitivity of the soul determines the accuracy of capturing and the speed of learning. For a poet, how to capture the feeling of snowfall? From "scattering salt in the air" to "willow catkins swirling in the wind," it shows the disparity in two levels of artistic sensitivity. This is an innate talent. Kung Fu is no different.

In the early stages, one can only sense obvious strength and pathways, like waves on a shallow shore. Those with profound skill, they can perceive the existence of elusive and ethereal energy—a hidden current in a vast ocean. This capability to capture sensation is called "listening," as in the Daoist concept of "gathering vision and returning to listening": "Without listening through the ears, listen through the heart. Without listening through the heart, listen through the qi" (Zhuangzi, Human World). This "listening" involves the interaction of one's dispersed qi with the external space, leading to an understanding of the universe and nature. Qi is an extension of the nervous system. The concept of "listening to energy" in Kung Fu is to use one's internal qi to "listen" to the movements of the opponent's internal qi. Everything lies in the sensation of "listening." Once you understand internal energy, you naturally comprehend the wisdom of the ancients, as if they were whispering secrets to you.

In the movie "Mr. Holland's Opus," there's a scene where a clarinet student struggles for a long time without success, deciding to give up. When saying goodbye to the teacher, Mr. Holland delivers the following lines:

"You know what we’ve been doing wrong?

We’ve been playing the notes on the page.

…

There's a lot more to music…than notes on a page.

…

Because playing music…is supposed to be fun.

It's about... heart.

It's about feelings and... moving people…and something beautiful and being alive, and It's not about notes on a page!

I could teach you notes on a page….I can't teach you that other stuff."

Then he invites the student to pick up the instrument, and a captivating dialogue unfolds:

“Let me ask you a question.

What?

When you look in the mirror... what do you like best about yourself?

My hair.

Why?

Well, my father always says that it reminds him of a sunset.

Play the sunset.

Close your eyes. One, two, three, four...”

The music begins, and this time, the student finally captures the feeling. It's no longer about practicing; it's about enjoying, and experiencing the music. Mr. Holland guides her to feel and comprehend "that other stuff." A teacher's cultivation determines a student's starting point and future heights. How many martial arts masters only understand teaching forms, and how many can point out "that other stuff"? "The truly important things are invisible to the eye" (The Little Prince).