New teacher sees immediate change

Newly-Accredited Teacher

“Just remember the universe will make the adjustments. You don’t have to do a thing.” These words from Ed Altman echoed in my ears upon leaving T’ai Chi Chih Teachers Accreditation. I did not fully understand what he meant. Having traveled only two miles from the retreat, I realized I did not have the directions to go back home. Stopping the car, I searched in the folder, on the passenger car seat, back in the folder again. Nowhere to be found, I just sat there. Should I go back to the retreat [center] and trouble Dan Pienciak, who had so much more to do before leaving? Do I proceed forward and ask at a gas station? Should I continue in my search? The old me would have torn the car apart. The old me would have bothered Dan. I continued to just sit. Well, perhaps the road just leads straight to Route 287. Perhaps there are no turns. Perhaps I could just wing it. So, I did. Passing under beautiful fall colored trees, I slowly remembered landmarks. When in the small towns, I recognized little shops, signs, schools. Everything seemed so familiar. How could I have captured all these landmarks days earlier when I was rushing from work to make it to the retreat [center] on time? And, then there was the entrance to Route 287 right before me.

An hour later, I really had to pee. I hadn’t even turned on the radio and I didn’t want to stop at a fast food restaurant to be shocked back into the “main stream.” A hotel that was my rest spot, for when I was working in this area, was ahead. I would wait until then and enter in the back way to avoid people. To my dismay there was a weekend event occurring. I quickly went into the ladies room. Unfortunately, no sooner had I entered, a mother and teenage daughter entered talking loudly. They wouldn’t leave soon enough. I went to wash my hands and I could feel the assessment. Here I was in my funny scrunched red hat, my hair stretching out at all angles, wearing a black Halloween T-shirt over a bright, red long-sleeved shirt, grey tights, orange and black socks, and black canvas shoes. Certainly I was a sight to this beautifully coiffured blonde mother, just admiring herself in the mirror. She was adjusting her hair some more and I could feel the assessment continue. The old me would have made a joke or would have told her where I had come from, feeling a need to explain myself. This time I just left the room.

At home I just had to talk to someone. My husband was still working and he couldn’t stop to talk on the phone. I called my parents. As customary, Mom answered and, again, Dad was in the shower. He is always in the shower when I call. It is like every time you wash your car, it rains. I spoke with my Mom and told her how the week went. We said goodbye and I still felt incomplete. After a few minutes I called back. Dad answered. For years I tried to explain the T’ai Chi Chih discipline. Well, I mentioned it a few times. Now came the questions and the comment about leaving my husband for a week. I just said our marriages are different and my husband likes the quiet. Then, I went a little deeper.

“Dad, it was so unique. In our group of candidates there was no leader, no outcast. We all recognized each other’s strengths and weaknesses and accepted each other completely. No other personal or professional group worked like this. And, then at the last practice, all the candidates stopped at the same time with one of the movements. Our teachers in the back, encircling us, kept going and then paused saying that there was one more set. As a group, the candidates stood firm as if to say, ‘Then you complete it.’ We then all pressed ahead, noting the teachers but continuing nevertheless. It was if we were an independent organism.”

He didn’t hesitate. Dad announced, “Then it is the truth. It is pure.” What??? What??? Was this MY Dad speaking? What did he say!

“Dad, have you been holding back? Have you been doing T’ai Chi Chih practice all along? You sound like one of us.”

“No, I just have been around awhile. It must be REAL, then.”

This from the man who once told me, “Don’t waste your time with it.” But, then quickly added, “Maybe I shouldn’t say that. I don’t know.” My 88-year-old Dad got it? How could that be? And, now again one of his clichés that he used to say over and over to me growing up, rang in my ear, “The older I get, the smarter my father gets.” Ugh!

“Dad, I am going to the Teachers Conference next year. It is in a place called Banff.”

“Banff? You’re kidding. I always wanted to go there. It is beautiful. It is on my list of places to go.”

“Really? Then, do you think Mom and you could meet up with me there.”

Then, Mom got excited. “When is it again?”

So, you just might see me with my proud parents. I am the statuesque 5’2″ one in the group with a wild T-shirt!