The Vital Force Archive

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.

Excerpts from Spiritual Odyssey in which Justin Stone credits the growth of T'ai Chi Chih to teachers' teh, or inner sincerity, warns against treating it as a business or as exercise, and insists movement come from the center.

April Leffler traces the "three-part harmony" of soles of the feet, softening knees and t'an t'ien in her practice, then asks how that same sense of connection applies to relationships in life.

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.

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.

Tracks three and four of Justin Stone's spoken word CD, in which he links karate board-breaking to accumulated chi, explains effortless effort, and gives three reasons for concentrating in the soles of the feet.

Caroline Guilott recalls skipping into the room to greet Justin in Albuquerque, and describes how words about the movements can trap a practitioner while attention to the t'an t'ien, the weight shift and softness opens the practice.

Terry Gay Puckett strings together phrases gathered at the 2023 conference, from "effortless effort" and "empty the cup" to feeling the soles of your feet and remembering Justin Stone.

Transcribed from Justin Stone's spoken word CD, tracks 4 and 6 cover bringing heart fire below the navel, Hakuin Zenji's words on the elixir of life, why softness keeps the meridians open, karma and habit energy, and the balance of intellect and emotion.

Caroline Guilott insists on Justin Stone's exact wording, from "graceful conclusion" to the "hip swivel," and explains how the relaxed, slightly cupped hands let students feel polarity as heat, cold or tingling rather than a cosmetic gesture.

Caroline Guilott draws on Justin Stone's exact phrases, from "graceful conclusion" to the hip swivel, and explains why polarity between relaxed, slightly cupped hands is felt in the body rather than the mind.

Carmen L. Brocklehurst recounts years of struggling with Justin Stone's instruction to "come to a graceful conclusion" until a Tuesday morning practice when she simply followed him and her wrists went soft.

Teacher-trainer Daniel Pienciak breaks down Justin Stone's instruction to 'make a graceful conclusion,' describing the full weight commitment, the soundless setting down of the foot, and the pelvic girdle letting go into stillness.

Sandy McAlister describes how a wandering mind lets the Chi rise, bringing headaches and giddiness, and how attention below the waist keeps practice grounded while softness stays shaped rather than limp.

Lisa M Otero recounts her early frustration with Justin Stone's instruction to come to a graceful conclusion, how balancing over her heels removed knee strain, and how strength at 60 brought softness.

Rosalind L. Braga recounts a silent encounter at a contemplative retreat at Santa Sabina Center, where a curious young Chinese woman who practiced T'ai Chi Ch'uan watched her move and called it light as a feather.

Nico Borneman likens a practitioner to a breaching whale who surrenders to fluidity, followed by pyramid poems from Lisa Stryoan, Terry Gay Puckett and KayRydeen on tanden, rain and rooting in Hawaiian sand.

April Leffler describes how allowing space under the armpits, rather than letting the upper arms hang, dropped her shoulders and freed the Chi, and how she taught it using the Goldilocks Method.

Linda Prosche travels to Hilo for two weeks with her former teacher Hannah Hedrick, whose question about "Freedom Quotient" leads her to examine the decades-old habits, likened to Pele's hair, standing between her and effortless practice.

Caroline Guilott recounts her 1999 Albuquerque accreditation, Justin Stone telling her "Higher dear, higher" and "There is nothing to do," and the roadside open house that began it all.

Joanne Howell recaps the Second Saturday discussion of Sandy McAlister's four practice types - formal, working, play and tailored - with teachers' examples of connected forms, imagery and staying true to Justin Stone's original.

Amy Tyksinski describes the "Flowing River Moments" she offers her high school class, then prints students' own written reflections on self-love, the effort of no effort, polarity and balance.

Sandy McAlister questions Justin Stone's phrase "graceful conclusion," recalls how he ended repetitions with a downward thud, and asks teachers who studied with him to respond in the next issue.

Pam Towne offers a New Year self-check on how you move, using a mirror or cell phone video to test softness, continuity, weight shift, polarity of the palms and focus in the t'an t'ien.

Carmen L. Brocklehurst argues that T'ai Chi Chih movements never change, only our perception of them, and that teachers must admit mistaken understanding, citing Hakuin and Justin Stone's chapter "The Growth of Certainty."

Senior teacher Nancy Werner-Azarski of Minneapolis recounts seeing Justin's face when she sat to meditate before practice, his silent standing answer at an Albuquerque conference, and how hip pain led her to two long-avoided projects.

Dorene Krause collects the AHA! discoveries her students report, from feeling energy between the palms to finding the foot's place, alongside the AAH... moments of effortless flow, grounding and calm.

Lisa Stroyan's poem, sparked by Lorraine Lepine's practice and Ann Rutherford's conference reference to kelp, names sensations of soft arms, uncurling fingers and resting on the energy sea.

Johnnie Marquez traces the stages of a student's journey from quickly learned movements to the growing intimacy with the feet, total weight shift and moments when the practice seems to do itself.

Laurie Jacobi recounts how pandemic isolation in Minnesota opened a fruitful emptiness, drawing on Lao Tzu, Japanese flower arranging and the slowed transitions between movements, followed by readers' Pyramid Poems.