Marionette

“A marionette is a puppet controlled from above using wires or strings … a marionette’s puppeteer is called a marionettist.” (In our culture, we often refer to someone who does not think or act for him or herself as a “puppet,” and that word creates quite a doubtful impression. For purposes of this metaphor, we’ll put down that negative connotation.)

T’ai Chi Chih is my marionettist. When I first came to TCC, I watched as my teacher slowly, gracefully and with intent, positioned her hands, arms, waist and feet. I marveled at the ease with which she moved. How could one as tense as I come close to proper practice? How could one as stiff as I create a path for vital energy to renew my body and my spirit? How could I?

I watched. I waited. My feet stumbled and my muscles ached. I put my left foot forward and pushed my hands as best I could, teetering as my body rocked front to back, side-to-side.

I studied. I practiced. My neck and shoulders refused to yield. I held fast to the lifelong rigidity that kept me upright – that kept me out of balance.

I began to heed my teacher’s counsel to pay attention to the soles of my feet. I felt the earth under me, keeping me stable, focused, stronger than before. Then it came to me: “I will let you be my marionettist; I will be the puppet.”

The very next practice I set my feet firmly on the earth, and set my eyes completely on my teacher’s hands and feet. I imagined a string or wire reaching from her hands and feet all the way to mine. When my marionettist softened her hand or angled her foot or bent her knee, mine had no option but to follow. (The strings, you see.) When my marionettist pushed the air or pulled the energy, I kept in constant rhythm. (I had no choice because of the wires, of course.)

Time passed. Classes came and went. One day in practice, as taffy stretched, clouds passed, and joyous breath inspired – it happened. There was a shift … a passing of the torch … a subtle change … a sudden awareness.

Someone else, something else, controlled the strings. My eyes, my hands, my senses no longer fixed on my own thoughts or connected to my teacher, TCC was now my marionettist.

“One day … suddenly I realized nobody is doing anything. I had myself out of the way. T’ai Chi Chih is doing T’ai Chi Chih and it’s a very, very ecstatic feeling.” – Justin F. Stone

Intensive: A Step towards Teaching TCC?

Attendee reflections compiled by Stacey Moore, Dover, Pennsylvania

“I became interested in T’ai Chi Chih when I saw my 90-year-old mother watching it on television. She answered my question why she was watching it with a smile and ‘it makes me feel good.’ So I began going. After 10 years, I felt I could teach TCC. Having been an academic teacher for forty years, I focused on the Intensive as a step to accreditation and teaching. After attending an Intensive in November 2014, I discovered new meaning to words heard over the years, “TCC is preformed primarily below the waist.” My past academic process of research, study, perfecting, testing, moving through graduate degrees and achievements melted away into a new energy of becoming a TCC teacher.

While practicing side-by-side with accredited teachers and candidates, I was not adding knowledge. No, I experienced a deepening within the movements. It is this deep-down-experience of peace and joy that I want to share with others. Mother taught me much about life and although she never actually got up from her chair to do the movements, I now experience what she did watching TCC.” – Christa Thompson, Aston, Pennsylvania

“I found it ironic that on the final day when asked to comment on one or two issues we should focus most closely on, my immediate response was, ‘I need to stop relying on physical strength’ and ‘I need to stop anticipating the next move.’ For the last year it’s been abundantly clear that those are the two issues constantly at the heart of almost all stumbling blocks in my life. What perfect proof that thought follows Chi and Chi follows thought!” – Jessica Lewis, Claymont, Delaware

“’I don’t know how to help you fix your leaning back,’ he said. How does a student studying to become a teacher deal with that comment? You can blame your teachers, say the trainer did not like you (and therefore was not fair) or say the trainer’s assessment was inaccurate. Or you can choose to be open to your awakening.

My awakening came shortly after an Intensive. At the time I did not understand that Daniel was encouraging me to trust myself and look within to find what was needed to fix my posture. I am now open to all that TCC offers and highly recommend the retreat to all choosing this path. My sincere gratitude to Daniel and Stacey. – Oreann Kempadoo, Spring Valley, New York