There Is Within You That Which Knows. That Is Your Teacher, by Diana Bahn (August 2018)

When I was a child and didn’t know what a word meant, I couldn’t wait to go into my room and look up its definition. It made me feel independent, purposeful and helped me understand things. (I was a younger sibling and no one seemed to have time for me, and my father used a lot of big words.)

This penchant to find answers outside of myself made a lot of sense; I understood my part in it. I wanted to do it. Something inside me was expressing herself.

My family had a very harsh, crippling trauma more than three years ago when my sister-in-law, and friend, Sarah, committed suicide. Even writing these words, I feel myself going out of my heart and returning to my t’an tien, my safe place that keeps me comforted despite this sad, old, true news.

I have never lived in the West and have no familiarity with forest fires and their aftermath. Yet part of me perhaps feels the same sadness about Sarah’s death as the people who walk the scorched earth after living through a hell-like conflagration and then come back to some purpose in life.

“There is within you that which knows”, Justin wrote regarding “Prajna, innate wisdom” and T’ai Chi Chih, Joy Thru Movement. Sarah’s death and the subsequent effect it had on everyone she touched – especially my husband (her brother) and her parents – was such a barren, burned-out field. The wind was knocked out of all of us. The stillness was one that ran counter to the nurturing stillness in our practice of T’ai Chi Chih.

We know what we don’t know. This happens all the time as we learn TCC especially when we get a suggestion from a teacher or trainer. For a moment that other person becomes our mirror and then we can go deeper, explore from inside ourselves and, in time, we shift.

Sometimes, though, we don’t know what we know. If I had to go back (and believe me I have tried, although failed) and mentally retrace all my steps in missing Sarah’s “hidden” messages that she was saying goodbye, I’d be reliving the trauma all over again. And that would open a box of wounds shared by everyone who knew and loved Sarah. I must let go and trust that it’s okay to release my “accumulated knowledge” of who Sarah was and who I am.

My teacher, the Prajna, replaced my dictionary of long ago. The thing is, I always had this Prajna; I just needed to wake her up. Fortunately, I came across TCC in 2000 and have been coming to know her pretty well. I have introduced a lot of people to TCC and often it sticks. Sarah was on her own path and trajectory, and to my mind had lost the Cosmic Rhythm.

Practicing TCC after Sarah’s death wasn’t easy. I had to dig deeply to inhibit the “helper” in me that often sacrifices my own happiness for the sake of others, only to find out later no one had my back. The Prajna led me – just like Justin said it would – to find new students seeking more than better balance and entertainment. I started teaching once weekly at a Mount Sinai Cancer Center and found some gem-like students. I also moved from a grieving field to doing self-care through regular massages, exploring Reiki and Jin Shin Juytsu, and doing Authentic Movement. The air has finally started to circulate.

There’s a safety in numbers and something reassuring about moving well in a group practice. If there is any lesson to glean from Sarah’s death, aside from the sanctity of every person’s life, I believe it is trusting that inside us which knows. TCC helps us understand that.