The Vital Force Archive

Carmen L. Brocklehurst writes on what practitioners say after taking up the 19 movements and one pose, and argues that amid COVID-19 uncertainty TCC people can lead with peace and equanimity.

Rick Davis writes during the pandemic and civil unrest, finding emotional footing in the Bubbling Spring at the soles of the feet during Rocking Motion, Justin Stone's noonday shadow image, and the 13th century mystic Mechthild of Magdeburg.

Linda Minor imagines the stress, resentment and ingratitude her life might have held without T'ai Chi Chih, and describes the sobering responsibility of now passing Justin Stone's gift to her own students.

Deanna Shapiro answers talk of enforced stillness during shelter in place with seven stanzas likening stillness to a giving tree, a summer breeze, clear water, a loving friend and an orchestra's harmony.

Denise Emanuel Clemen stocked her Minneapolis pantry as COVID-19 emptied the Trader Joe's shelves down to green jackfruit, then found her real reserve in daily T'ai Chi Chih, yoga and 3:00 a.m. Nei Kung.

Annette McNeil's rhyming ode addresses the coronavirus directly, tracking lockdown hoarding, overworked nurses, dolphins in the canals, and TCC students Yinning and Yanging all nineteen movements together on Zoom.

Lisa Stroyan writes from the early weeks of the pandemic, disoriented by fear and media, deaths at her father's former nursing home, and finds grounding in Zoom practices, Justin's books and the Nei Kung.

Elizabeth Ebrahimzadeh, a self-described born worrier who met T'ai Chi Chih in a park 18 years ago, describes how daily practice grounds her through pandemic fears about loved ones, postmen and plumbers.

Pam Towne cites research on bi-lateral rhythmic movement calming the amygdala and a UCLA study showing raised T cell activity, explaining why TCC practice steadies people during COVID-19.

Patricia Winger passes along a church-service parable about a jostled cup of coffee spilling whatever it holds, and says T'ai Chi Chih makes her more confident about what is in hers.

Jean Olszak's rhyming poem answers the question "What's in it for me?" with lower blood pressure, steadier balance, quieter joints, a clearer head and a brighter outlook.

Jerry Jonnson offers teachers a ready-made promotional piece citing Dr. Richard Davidson's neuroscience of well-being, presenting T'ai Chi Chih as an easier moving mindfulness, ending with his outdoor Mt. Cuba Center classes.

Diana Bahn uses her own home renovation and the stress of the unknown to describe Seijaku, serenity in the midst of activity, as a grounding internal practice for complicated times.

Adabelle Rychtarik collected testimonials from her Greenville-area students at libraries, senior centers and a French creperie, who report better balance after hip replacement, tremor relief, improved sleep and giving up a cane.

Lauren Paitson's hour-long flight out of Sault Ste Marie became a nine-hour ordeal of blizzards and diversions, so she practised T'ai Chi Chih in the aisle in Omaha.

Laurie Jacobi gathered four written responses from her students, who describe returning to the circle each week, practicing in a chapel, feeling the flow of chi, and leaving calmer.

Sandra Wells describes visualizing the TCC movements as a mental practice she uses in the dentist's chair, in waiting rooms and on a train ride to a state park, arriving energized and relaxed.

Five tenth graders at Albuquerque Academy describe what a year of T'ai Chi Chih gave them, from skepticism to grounding during a student walkout against gun violence, followed by Pyramid Poems on silence.

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.

Victor Viereck compares dry spaghetti, hard and brittle until boiling water softens it, to a body full of tension that becomes soft and flexible as Chi is added through practice.

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.

Julie Heryet compiles first-person accounts from six men in the Folsom Prison T'ai Chi Chih class, who describe finding sanctuary, releasing anger, and practising on the yard and tier.

Nancy Rolph-Johnson's rhyming verse runs through all nineteen movements and the pose in order, from Rocking Motion to Passing Clouds, ending with an invitation to Tuesday's ten o'clock class.

Nancy Daniel practised T'ai Chi Chih behind a screen during a layover in Charlotte, and a gate attendant who had just absorbed a passenger's tirade credited the calm she felt to that energy.

Eleven men in the Folsom Prison class, from George R. to Tyrone J., describe feeling the Chi, finding groundedness amid rage and stress, and teacher Sandy closes with her own teacher's memorial.

Journal entries from April Leffler's PhysEd class at Widener University, where students describe feeling the t'an t'ien, easing seven years of anxiety and depression, and closing with Paige M.'s poem.

Anita Vestal summarizes twelve controlled trials of T'ai Chi Chih, covering sleep quality, shingles immunity, inflammation, physical performance in older adults, stress and depression, with recommendations for future studies.

Pam Towne likens modern life's accelerating pace to a childhood merry-go-round, recalling how crawling to its still center steadied her, and describing how regular TCC practice does the same today.

Lisa Stroyan noticed her fingers curling during practice and traced the habit to sympathetic nervous system activation, learning to let her hands open through presence rather than muscular effort.

Weekly journal entries from April Leffler's college students Nav, Rebecca and Samantha, who describe getting out of their heads, grounding during finals stress, and feeling energy intensely in their hands.