The Vital Force Archive

Justin Stone offers more aphorisms from his 20th Century Psalms, on the three levels of truth, the Pleasure-Pain Continuum most people inhabit, and why Realization cannot be forced any more than a tree can blossom early.

Justin Stone unpacks the Indian formula Sat-Chit-Ananda and the workings of karma, then tells how Paul Reps greeted Japan with "Tea Ceremony stinks!" to jolt people out of habit energies.

An editor's note recounting how much of the issue was laid out beside Justin Stone's bed over two weekends, where he dozed, examined a new T'ai Chi Chih photo text app on an iPad, and asked that readers be thanked.

Justin Stone contrasts Tagore's unanswered "Who am I?" with Tako-san's bright moon over water, traces Chinese cosmology back to the Uncarved Block, and explains how each mood carries a corresponding prana.

Justin Stone offers a string of aphorisms on words versus actions, the danger of getting stuck in a feeling of Unity, the mental constructs we mistake for the world, and impermanence.

In a talk from a 1990 teacher conference, Justin Stone links the circulation of chi to Zen's wordless transmission, quoting Huang-Po, D. T. Suzuki and Gopi Krishna on evolving consciousness.

Justin Stone links karma to the habit energies built by the Chi, raises the dichotomy of Grace versus cause and effect, and cites Hakuin's Yassenkana on sinking heart fire below the navel.

Excerpts from Justin Stone's "The Impersonal" assert that the Life Force has no beginning, end or individuality, that only transformation exists, and that ambition, envy and the refusal of impermanence cause suffering.

In a 1991 Albuquerque talk, Justin Stone defines nonattachment through a dying Zen master's exchange with his disciple, arguing that recognizing impermanence, like a traveler at an inn, is the starting point of a spiritual life.

Justin Stone describes prajna, the innate wisdom covered over by vashanas or habit energies, warning against guru worship and spiritual materialism and recalling the Sufi master who asked, "Are you ready to learn?"

Justin Stone on what makes an article worth reading, the circulation of Chi beyond physical benefits, and TCC's need for more teachers as trainings spread to Italy, France and Canada.

Justin Stone recounts a revelation that time itself is Maya, comparing ordinary life to a play within a play, and describes turiya, the fourth state of consciousness, and Zuigan's enlightenment.

Justin Stone writes that students come to T'ai Chi Chih for fitness and weight loss but find Chi bringing warmth, love and meaning, with children noticing their mother no longer yells.

Justin Stone recounts how the phrase "Cosmic Rhythm" came to him during a meeting at Albuquerque PBS station KNME, then links seasons, tides and Japanese plum blossoms to regular T'ai Chi Chih practice.

Justin Stone questions how the words of Zen Masters acquire their authority, doubting that famous sayings can supply a way of living, and closes with another handful of 20th Century Psalms.

Justin Stone, speaking at the 1991 Teacher Conference, draws on Vimalakirti, Hakuin and Engo to argue that samadhi in the busy marketplace beats quietude, and counsels being like water.

Justin Stone calls T'ai Chi Chih "the effort of no effort," explaining that the movements are not meant to build muscle but to circulate the Chi, and urging teachers to shape and encourage their students' practice.

Justin Stone offers a series of aphorisms from 20th Century Psalms, on identifying with the tree rather than the leaves, karma as energy in activity, habit as the enemy of old age, and the jazz musician's attempt to express the inexpressible.

Passages selected from each chapter of Justin Stone's Climb the Joyous Mountain, from the frozen moonlight outside a Zen temple to a Maharaj who skipped meals when meditation ran deep, with an editor's note on the Facebook group reading it.

Thirteen short excerpts from Justin Stone's 20th Century Psalms, on impermanence, the heavy baggage of "I" and "Mine," the impossibility of forcing Realization, and why those who touch Unity must return to ordinary life.

Justin Stone traces the term Cosmic Rhythm to a meeting at Albuquerque's PBS station, then to plum blossoms in February snow, Indian kalpas, and the circularity felt through regular practice.

Justin Stone answers his editors' constant requests for copy, notes his articles may lean spiritual as he enters his nineties, and recalls the former head of T'ai Chi Chih who quit over his insistence that the practice is a service to humanity.

In a video address to the 2009 conference, 92-year-old Justin Stone corrects four points for teachers: the hand "turned up to the sun" in Pulling Taffy, cupped hands and wrist work in Carry the Ball to the Side and Bass Drum, and yinning and yanging below the waist.

Justin Stone names the aimless hand-waving he sees in Bird Flaps its Wings, Pulling Taffy Variation #2, Light at the Top of the Head and Daughter in the Valley, and explains why he corrects it at Albuquerque practices.

Justin Stone praises Sister Antonia, appointed Guide, for staging retreats in many cities, planning teacher training and travelling as far as Italy under a vow of poverty, and asks that people stop writing to him as he turns 93.

Justin Stone names softness and continuity the essence of T'ai Chi Chih, contrasting the oak and the bamboo, and traces how accumulated Chi reshapes posture, thinking, meridian flow and contentment.

Justin Stone tells the story of Chuang Tsu, who drummed and sang after his wife's funeral, answering horrified friends that she came when it was time and left when it was time.

Justin Stone quotes Swami Rama of India at length on prana as the cosmic life principle, then credits his own undiminished vigor at 86 to consistent, correct T'ai Chi Chih practice.

Justin Stone draws on Patanjali's Raja Yoga to explain how mental modifications harden into habit energies and tendencies, and argues that deep meditation and T'ai Chi Chih can erase harmful ones, including addictions.

Justin Stone likens sinking into the essence of T'ai Chi Chih to satori in Zen, describing the practice doing itself, the disappearance of argument, and the effort of no-effort.