The Vital Force Archive

Mary Wichmann rereads years of notes from Justin Stone before the Albuquerque conference, recalling his congratulatory letters to new teachers, Turiya meditation at his home, Tuesday practice and "Second Breakfast."

Two brief anonymous poems from the 50th T'ai Chi Chih Teacher Conference, one naming the peace of being together with friends in July, the other addressed to John in everlasting love.

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.

Nancy Jo Bleier took "There is only One Thing going on" as her mantra from the 50th Teacher Conference, praising its organization, small-group sessions, and remembrance of Justin and Connie Hyde.

Guy Kent recounts Justin cutting short his accreditation presentation for comparing TCC to "T'ai Chi in the park," a lunch about stock charts and guilt, Saturday teisho readings, and Justin's tears over a critic who renamed the movements.

KG recalls Justin Stone quietly pushing her photography career forward: buying a print he did not want, sending her to find a Belgian fine-art book publisher, and posing for the Photo Text.

Karen Silva recalls Justin Stone demonstrating grounding in Basic Pulling Taffy, the pulling hand crossing diagonally to end parallel to the ground, an explanation she still uses in her classes.

Laurie Jacobi recalls first seeing Justin Stone playing 1940s jazz at a grand piano, and the conference where he corrected her for not moving low enough before learning of her back pain.

Lisa Otero recalls meeting Justin Stone through her aunt Carmen Brocklehurst, her initial disappointment that he seemed a conventional businessman, and the lessons on death and attachment absorbed over pancake house dinners.

Ann Rutherford gathers memories of Michael O'Connor, an Albuquerque teacher and physical therapist who died after relapsing, from Bruce Childs, Molly Grady, Beth Cameron, Kathy Grassel and Sr. Antonia.

George Zimmerman remembers Nicole, who kept a daily T'ai Chi Chih practice through eleven years with ALS, moving without her wheelchair for three years and later practising the movements in imagination alone.

Dora Wiemann recalls Saturday evening meditation and Teisho at Justin Stone's house, where he answered his own question about why they gathered, and Judy Hendricks describes learning from his DVDs and CDs.

Jim Hecker recalls Justin Stone asking him whether he had done T'ai Chi Chih that day, once or twice, and the answer Justin gave when asked why nine repetitions.

Nancy Werner-Azarski traces her encounters with Justin Stone through teachers Ron Barker and Ed Altman, conferences, retreats and postcards, likening him to the elephant described by blind men.

Carmen Brocklehurst recounts how a tape of Justin Stone's 1990 teacher conference talk, recorded without permission, was transcribed and made into the booklet Evolution Through Chi, now given free to new teachers.

Sandy McAlister recounts the storytelling session at the 2019 conference, Justin's challenge to perform a generous act and never mention it, and why his corrections left no room for emotions.

Seven years after Justin Stone's death, Sheryl Adair catalogs what he left behind, from books and pyramid poetry to his refusal to charge teachers, and asks how teachers can keep his selflessness alive for students.

Sandy McAlister passes on conference updates for teachers who could not attend: the renewed five-year vision statement, Foundation finances and scholarship totals, new grants and committees, and a tribute to Connie Hyde.

Pete Gregory's parody lyrics, sung to the Beverly Hillbillies tune at the 2009 teacher conference sing-along at Lied Lodge, trace Justin Stone's discovery of T'ai Chi Chih and his 1993 move to Albuquerque.

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.

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.

Judy Hendricks answers a student's question about why Justin Stone died five years earlier, recalling his words that he had never left his own teacher, Roshi Joshu Sasaki.

Lisa M. Otero, a yoga instructor, recounts how studying the Yoga Sutras of Patanjali and the Bhagavad Gita after Justin Stone's death revealed the Raja Yoga roots behind his seemingly obscure teachings.

Linda Braga remembers Mini, a retired library worker who joined her class as a beginner, kept practising through chemotherapy for a rare blood cancer, and was honoured in a memorial class where students sensed spirits filling the room.

Sheryl Adair practices outdoors in Sarasota on the fourth anniversary of Justin Stone's death, while visiting her nearly 97-year-old uncle, and finds herself carrying all of life during Carry the Ball to the Side.

Alice Holden remembers Texas teachers Renza Moscatelli Baker, who came to T'ai Chi Chih after cancer weakened her legs, and Richard Cutler, honored at his wake with nine rounds of Rocking Motion.

Carmen Brocklehurst's introduction to a DVD of Justin Stone's 2005 conference talk, recalling his piano playing in Hong Kong, his favorite word teh (inner sincerity), and the message of gratitude he left for teachers two weeks before he died.

Linda Braga traces definitions of cosmic consciousness from Dr. Richard Maurice Bucke's 1894 paper to Dr. Stanley Dean's ten manifestations, drawing on Ruth-Inge Heinze's book The Light In the Dark.

Two dozen Pyramid Poems from practitioners including Mary Stine, Bonnie Cundiff, Maggie Smith and Ann Hampton, each thanking Justin Stone for T'ai Chi Chih and the flowing chi it brought them.

Sky Young-Wick admits he avoided Justin Stone out of fear of his blunt feedback, then describes sensing his presence during practices in Kansas City, including one his student Jack felt too.