The Vital Force Archive

Suzanne Roady-Ross, seventeen years into her practice, describes her grown children's differing responses to T'ai Chi Chih and the lasting friendships her students have built around class and lunch afterward.

Pam Towne, after 38 years of Seijaku practice, describes the yin-yang alternation of softness and resistance, lists its massages, tonings, Jing and Joy Song, and quotes Justin Stone calling its discovery the most important event of his life.

Kay Rydeen presented "T'ai Chi Chih for Body, Mind, and Spirit" at a Minnesota occupational therapy conference, teaching two dozen OTs about weight shifts, softness, and joint range of motion.

Beverly J. Miles describes a year of practising Seijaku and the questions it raised for her, including whether to hold the breath while holding fast and how to dance the Joy Song.

Linda Braga remembers Ruby Harper, her San Leandro student and a Hindu swami in orange robes, who while meditating at her Guru's ashram in India took down a message from Justin Stone about natural breathing, signed in his own ascending hand.

Richard Brier lists the reasons we practice, from awakening intuition to opening to cosmic Chi, and describes the "mind fasting" of the empty cup behind Joy Through Movement.

Linda Braga recounts writing "Blooming the Rose Within" during a silent retreat at Santa Sabina Center, where she led morning T'ai Chi Chih, and its 2020 first-place win in the International Dancing Poetry Contest.

Lorraine Lepine describes moving her attention from the soles of her feet to the t'an t'ien until the Chi seemed to practice itself, and a group meditation on listening to mental clamor rather than pushing it away.

Regina Otero-Sabogal, a psychologist and Colombian immigrant, describes recruiting students for free Spanish-language T'ai Chi Chih classes at Galería de la Raza's Casa Adelante housing and Berkeley's Latino Family Engagement Program.

Jessica Lewis passes on a disabled Army veteran's account of going medication-free since 2018 and keeping his temper with his teenage son, then records her own sensations after their one-on-one Seijaku session.

Lisa Stroyan details how she, Doriane Tippet and Belize-based Zoom anchor Beverly Miles run a simultaneous in-person and online class, from webcam setup and lighting to the surprising arrangement of students standing behind the teachers.

JB describes how an intuition arriving during Rocking Motion reminded her that TCC itself holds the patience she needed while her partner faced repeated hospitalizations for severe emphysema.

Sue Kenney frames T'ai Chi Chih as a web of relationships: with her aging self, with fellow practitioners, with a Sacramento parish's Wednesday Taize service, and with George Manning's class at HOPE Cooperative.

Carmen L. Brocklehurst takes Justin Stone's 2005 remark that time is the maker of delusion and asks whether the Chi is in the movement or always present, comparing students' joyful faces to a baby reaching for something unseen in its crib.

Terry Gay Puckett was practicing Around the Platter on her deck when a large cat appeared balancing along a twelve-foot fence, teaching her to move slowly and attend to the soles of her feet.

Carmen L. Brocklehurst recounts a friend being told about T'ai Chi Chih for high blood pressure by someone who did not know she already knew, and urges a post-Covid return to daily practice.

Anna Vaith, who once found writing pyramid poems as enjoyable as a dentist visit, describes how Carmen Brocklehurst's guidance at the summer teacher conference produced a poem she loved.

Four intuitive writings after practice: Dora Wiemann basking in a peaceful bubble, Dixie Adeniran finding the Cosmic Rhythm in kelp and swings, Terry Gay Puckett's Monday circle, and Daniel Pienciak surrendering a tight shoulder.

Three practitioners write in: Parker Reynolds practiced TCC mentally while coming out of hip surgery anesthesia, Sherry Corson found relaxing hands and belly deepened her Chi, and Lynne Roberts keeps teaching while awaiting back surgery.

Lisa Otero counts the hundred-plus students who have come through her five classes in 15 years, including a new athletic student she misread completely, followed by Annie Braudy's discovery of soft hands.

Carmen Brocklehurst puzzled over the textbook subtitle "Joy Thru Movement" until she watched Justin Stone walk out of an Albuquerque dry cleaners with his laundry and saw joy itself.

JJ Johnson answers a student's question about Seijaku with the story of practicing at a Texas roadside park on World T'ai Chi Day when a freight train roared past.

Patricia Spears Bigelow credits regular practice with strengthening an ankle after tendon surgery, easing asthma, and stopping the falls her glaucoma caused, and describes doves, squirrels and an owl watching her practice outdoors.

Carolyn Perkins, writing from Cyprus, managed one group practice and one of Carmen's workshops at the teacher conference despite the time difference, and does six repetitions daily since breaking her neck.

Julie Schuster's class at Friendship Village of Bloomington spent weeks practicing a single chosen movement, and students recorded what came of it: Push Pull turning into a mantra, Six Healing Sounds cleansing breath, and Daughter on the Mountain Top easing anxiety at bedtime.

Dina Ajlenberg found that Israeli students, unlike Canadians raised on parades and big bands, had no image of a bass drum, so she teaches the arm movement as a train's wheels.

Sue Kenney lists the paradoxes of T'ai Chi Chih, physical and spiritual, calming and energizing, and recalls Justin Stone's advice not to analyze them but to experience the effort of no effort.

Rosalind L. Braga recounts Justin Stone's 1998 talk at Folsom Prison, where the words "your joy is my joy" won over inmates and guards, and traces the weekly classes and inmate teachers that continue in 2023.

Bruce Childs borrows Pamela Adelstein's definition of sacred space to recall the quietude of the T'ai Chi Chih Center in Albuquerque, then asks his friend June, who answers with a poem about weekly open practice.

Laurin McDonald recounts the first 800 hours of teaching after her 2018 accreditation, from a chance encounter at a business showcase to classes in wheelchairs, a mosque, and her Seijaku accreditation in 2021.