Becoming…

By: Marty Henry

The teacher does not normally take on a student unless the latter displays great resolution and energy in his inquiry… After some time the disciple’s hidden doubts and reservations appear in the form of a crisis, generally centering around some point of the teaching or some action of the teacher. When the problem fills all of the waking hours without a moment’s forgetfulness the stage is called the Great Doubt. The working of the mind ceases. Finally there is a flash which is called in Japanese satori or Realization.

– Leggett, 1988, p. 11-12

In the Vital Force, I have read several articles written from the perspective of teachers as they prepare their students to become accredited teachers of T’ai Chi Chih. They document some of the doubts and questions as to whether a student is ready to enter teacher training, as in Kathy Vieth Alber’s [June ’99] article [on the St. Louis Teacher Training in which students received deferred accreditations] and Carmen Brocklehurst’s recent article on “Preparing for Teacher’s Training” [September ’99] about patience in the process of becoming ready.

My story has similar themes to these but comes from another perspective. I am a student of T’ai Chi Chih immersed in that process. This story is told from the inside. I hope it gives teachers a perspective of what their students are experiencing through their process of becoming.

I have been called “driven,” “goal oriented,” and “headstrong.” All of these were correct until the last 14 months when I discovered the benefits of TCC. I began my training in January of 1999 under the teaching of a kind and patient mentor, Rich Race. From the first week of my practice, I could feel energy moving through a tingling sensation in my fingers. Looking back after over a year of increasing energy flow, I am amazed that anything at all happened that quickly. It took only a few months of practice for me to realize the power of TCC. The adjectives previously used to describe me were no longer applicable. Even my supervisor told me that I wasn’t the woman he had hired three short years ago. I knew that I had to become a teacher of TCC in order to share this wonder with others who could benefit from it.

I found that teacher training should not occur until after at least a year of practice. I understood the reasoning behind that thinking, but wanted to know what to do to begin preparation for it as soon as I could. It now seems that my old self was emerging.

Rich was teaching another class and I asked if I could observe it and watch him teach. I am an educational consultant and former teacher so I thought that I could at least begin to pick up some good teaching strategies. Because Rich has an open policy for any past student to attend an ongoing class to refresh themselves, he agreed that I could observe only if he could use me to assist as he gave corrections to the new students. I began my observation and modeled some of the movements as he instructed. This was a valuable experience for me as I first felt 26 eyes on my back during the first time I modeled for him. I had taught for many years, but this was completely different. Because I was still learning, I realized that I needed to focus on my form so that it would be correct for the students.

I signed up for an intermediate course with Kathy Vieth Albers. Learning from two talented and accomplished instructors opened my eyes to corrections I could make to further enhance and deepen my practice. I felt I was on my way and on target.

Then, as the universe has a way of doing, I was stopped in my tracks. I was reading Justin’s work, some Qigong literature, and taking an Asian Philosophy course at the local university while practicing and attending Rich’s classes. I encountered some conflicting information within the TCC literature and teachings, and with some of the other information I was processing and I became very uncertain if this was what I needed to be doing. My struggle was between pushing through my doubt or just backing off and keeping TCC to myself for my own benefit.

I was meeting with Rich for some individual instruction and his reaction to my distress confirmed for me that TCC is a powerful force in people’s lives. As I began to share my concerns, a peace came over his face and he exuded a calmness that assured me that I could share my doubts with no risk. He listened and asked me to think about whether I wanted to continue with the intensive work we were doing on the timeline we had set. He said he was confident that I would become a teacher some day but that the timing had to be right for me and he would work with me when I was ready.

During the next week things fell into place. During my practice one morning I realized that I did need to let go, but not to turn loose. I had set an arbitrary training date for myself for . . . summer and I didn’t need to do that if it didn’t feel right. I needed to just keep myself open to what benefits were occurring for me physically, mentally, and emotionally and realize that I would know when the time was right. Within a few weeks the disconnects in the theories and practice reconnected and I was back on target with renewed interest and insights. I am assisting in another TCC class with Rich and am becoming much more aware of the movement students are making. Because of this I am deepening my form as well.

Through this story run the themes of patience, letting go, and trust. TCC teaches us these three through the form itself. Have the patience of soft, flowing, and continuous form. Wait for the T’an Tien to move before anything else. Let TCC do TCC. You can’t teach it, but students can learn it by doing it. Trust that the right way will be revealed. Chi will flow; the way will be made clear.

As the beginning quote shows us, the path to understanding requires mentors who allow the process to occur within the student on a timeline that is right for the student’s development, and who provide the support and time for growth and acceptance to occur. It requires students who accept the form on two levels, one that continuously examines form as well as its understanding, and the other that accepts that it is not necessary to understand.

Leggett, T. (1988). The Tiger’s Cave. Rutland, VT: Charles E. Tuttle Company