The Vital Force Archive

Host April Leffler introduces comments from eight teachers accredited at the six-day Aston course in March 2018, including two from the UK, on softness, auditing feedback and nerves about facing students.

Nancy Johnson's pyramid poem builds from harmony intended and expected to an energetic co-existing, where diverse dreams connect in surprising ways and form and formless intertwine.

Laurin McDonald recounts flying from England through blizzards to Philadelphia for her March 2018 accreditation with Daniel, the refinements on weight shift and Rocking Motion, and new UK classes starting in April.

Nancy Johnson's pyramid poem builds outward from the heart, through stillness, authenticity and letting go, toward reaching another heart while the heartland grows in truth.

John Miller, who came to T'ai Chi Chih two years earlier after years in a high stress job, describes teacher training as challenging and fulfilling and credits Dan and April as lasting influences.

Nancy Johnson writes of silence as an ever-present state hidden by noise, and of chi as the bridge from doing to being that carries us toward internal peace.

Judy Hendricks describes waking at 3 am in terror over a career change, and how remembering an earlier time of fearless certainty, along with her practice, restored her grounding and connection.

Nancy Johnson's pyramid poem watches dawn break over Mt. Calvary, where teachers gathered for a weekend retreat begin again amid emerging outlines of trees, hills and houses.

Excerpted from his book Heightened Awareness, Justin Stone links spiritual evolution to Gopi Krishna's Kundalini, habit energies, mindfulness at meals, and the Satori that came to Hakuin after a woman broke a broom over his head.

Nancy Johnson's pyramid poem walks a labyrinth with a lotus at its center, recalling Thich Nhat Hanh's counsel to step harmoniously while hills, trees, fountains and birds keep company.

Justin Stone describes Prajna, the innate wisdom buried under habit energies, quoting a Sufi master, Krishnamurti and Paul Reps, and argues that TCC practice balances those energy patterns so letting go happens effortlessly.

April Leffler introduces the theme of the 2018 Philadelphia teacher conference, Flowing From Emptiness, quoting the Lotus Sutra and relaying what teachers said about being emptied out by life.

Nancy Johnson's pyramid poem traces the lifelong friendship of Ruth and Nina, from meeting at the edge of a sandbox as children to travels, families, birthdays and healing moments together.

Eliza Fulton recalls her surprise that TCC teachers face no continuing education requirement, and argues that Justin Stone gave teachers his example and their own inner teh instead of rules; with Pyramid Poems on silence.

Ahead of the 2018 Teacher Conference, Lorry Marcketta rounds up Philadelphia art destinations from the Rodin Museum and mural tours to her favorite, the Brandywine River Museum, closing with an acrostic poem.

Nancy Johnson's pyramid poem takes an owl's point of view, puzzling over the white-robed Brothers walking slowly below and wondering whether those long gowns hide wings.

Carmen Brocklehurst unpacks the name T'ai Chi Chih as "knowledge of the Supreme Ultimate" and recalls her clumsy first classes with Helen Brungardt Pope before discovering the feeling of chi.

Dora Wiemann's beginner class sank into moving meditation during Daughter on the Mountaintop and stayed there through Daughter in the Valley, emerging only when Carry the Ball to the Side's instructions intervened.

Nancy Johnson's pyramid poem sets a great horned owl against a satellite at dusk, weighing solo grace and the ability to meditate against metal, programs and waiting for commands.

Donovan Rundle takes the saying "It takes One to know One" as a statement about the knower united with the Universal Chi, arguing that no part can know the whole from outside.

Susan Kenney remembers Clifford, a student of 44 who traveled by skateboard, called out the movements while stooping to read them off the page, and lived in a monastery-like studio apartment.

Sharon Sirkis passes along a college student's story: after a class discussion on grounding and avoiding distractions, the student hung up from an undistracted hour-long phone call wondering whether the dog had been fed.

Diana Bahn recounts climbing onto a ledge in the Columbus Circle subway to free a trapped pigeon, and how the rescue loosened her struggle with teaching "Bird Flaps Its Wings."

Maya Campana Caudill writes that she and her husband, in their late 70s and early 80s, still lead free twice-weekly T'ai Chi Chih and Qigong practice in the park for about 16 people.

Donna Deffenbaugh recounts buying olive green drawstring pants and velveteen shoes for her first T'ai Chi Chih class, the too-big black replacements her teacher teased her about, and what practice is really about.

Sandy McAlister links a Bay Area synchronicity workshop and two retreats she led, drawing on Linda Braga's Seven Qualities of Movement to show how moving as one unit produces harmony and beauty.

Sandra Babka, at 76 and living with nerve damage, recounts a lifetime of exercise and practicing TCC in airports and doctors' offices, paired with an anonymous student's account of letting go through Abandon Hope and a cancer diagnosis.

Pam Towne links softness to letting go of muscular tension and self-critical thoughts, and recommends Seijaku after a year of practice as the way to feel release after resistance.

Becky B Watkins recounts a free eight-week class at her downtown Louisiana library, where Irma, a student with no fingers, rode the bus through pouring rain and practised Rocking Motion softly and beautifully.

Dan Pienciak, who learned Seijaku from Justin Stone in 1997 and needed ten years to feel its benefits, argues the advanced form belongs to the essence of TCC rather than a fringe few.