Meditation or Medication?, by Fusun Sulzbach (August 2023)
The year was 2002. The challenge was giving a presentation for my TCC accreditation in front of Justin Stone and Pam Towne and about twenty other candidates from around the country. The one component of leading a T’ai Chi Chih (TCC) movement was not necessarily the cause for my anxiety.
Compared with other teacher anecdotes of TCC lowering blood pressure, helping fight cancer, or mentally doing TCC while pregnant and bed-ridden, my testimony seemed insubstantial. Upon further inner reflection, I realized I just liked how the joy through movement helped balance my emotions, rendering me more patient, resilient, and focused.
Then Eureka! TCC practice blessed me with mental clarity. Of course! After practicing regularly for more than a year, I decided to take a much-dreaded dive off a cliff to end my 28-year marriage. I’m not sure I could have done that without the mental and emotional clarity derived from regular practice. Furthermore, I also attributed the eradication of insomnia to TCC.
That said, why did I let go of regular practice over these past few decades? Why has it been an on-again off-again ordeal? Why did I resort to a to sleep medication after expunging it from my nightly routine that first year? Yes, life gets in the way, and as with most, certain challenges disrupt the momentum of a disciplined practice. But having experienced the positive effects of constant TCC, why did I waver?
The days I awoke at 5:00 a.m. to practice before heading out to teach 9th and 10th graders, I would always feel more calm, patient, and focused. I promised myself to be more consistent and regular with practice, and a few days later, would break that promise, opting for an extra 30 minutes of sleep. Then, I retired and focused on getting in shape at the gym. Vigorous exercise enhanced my physical well-being. But I realized I was missing the mental and emotional component. Meditation had never been my strong suit, until I started practicing this moving meditation. Once again, I resumed my practice.
Fortunately, the gym was looking for a T’ai Chi teacher, so after a successful presentation to a large group of mostly seniors, I started my first class in ten years. Resuming a twice weekly practice, I noticed my energy level increase, but my insomnia did not improve substantially. After enthusiastically teaching this group for two years, COVID-19 closed down the gym, and we moved to Richmond. Getting acclimated to a new city, house, and neighborhood — coupled with occasionally taking care of my grandchildren — once again disrupted my momentum. Until…
I participated in the June retreat this year in Oceanside, CA. The passion, commitment, and discipline of the participating teachers, as well as sharing our stories — creating a community — is what I had been missing. I was more inspired than ever. I include TCC in my daily routine again, and even if I skip a day or two, I know it will never cease being a part of my life. As a type A personality, I look forward to the joy that this moving meditation grants me. And I can more easily manage the insomnia. Reading a passage from Justin Stone’s Spiritual Odyssey about the cumulative effects of regular practice has convinced me about how crucial this component is for my physical, mental, and emotional health. I’ve stopped taking medication for sleep — meditation, not medication!
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