Let's Go Down to the River and Swim
National Geographic television ran a program on dwarfism. One young man featured is barely over 3 feet tall and diagnosed with Primordial Dwarfism. He is proportionally mostly like the average human, but only half the size. He does have some physical problems besides his size including the hip joint. He is getting close to earning his black belt in karate and beams with pride.
Sometimes, when I am ill, I wonder how people who have to bear real physical problems, whether through birth or dis-ease, how do these people get up and face the next day?
I have always been physically active, studying martial arts since high school in 1965. But, there are so many people in this world who have nothing wrong with them, physically, yet have never rejoiced in the pleasures of physical activity.
As a teacher of tai chi, I have been trained to notice posture and gait in others. Compared to long-time athletes, whether martial or otherwise, the average person has no balance. In fact, most folks are completely oblivious when it comes to body awareness.
There is a story in Zen Flesh, Zen Bones by Paul Reps wherein a newly “enlightened” student of Zen goes to visit his teacher. It is a rainy day and the teacher asks his student whether he left his umbrella to right or to the left of his shoes when he set them inside the front door. The student could not recall and realized he was not so enlightened after all.
Relate this then to awareness. There is self-awareness, mental, I mean, but that is an entirely different essay. Let us talk about physical awareness. Most people, when they walk, come down more heavily on one foot than on the other. Which is your “emphasis” foot?
For the past ten years, while teaching at a tai chi school in Seattle’s Chinatown, I worked to recognize the students by their gait before I ever saw them. Now, the front door of the school led straight up two flights of ancient wooden stairs, so I had plenty of time to listen, but I was more aware of my student’s bodies than they were.
Take some time and sit outside or in a mall where people walk. Watch them. There are myriad ways of walking. In my seminal days studying Chinese Internal Martial Arts at the Gompa, in Arlington, Texas, we were taught how to move from our centers. The Chinese call this center the dandian. It is a point about two fingers below your navel and is the physical center of your body, pretty much equidistant to all other points. It is also the general location of the diaphragm, but that too needs its own discussion.
So we learned where the dandian was. We learned to begin breathing from the center, and moving from the center and putting our minds at the dandian. This was not just physical balance we were learning, but BALANCE with a capital “B.” The class was called Centering. And the teacher talked about other kinds of centering. Some folks walked as if most of their weight was in their head—we called that “Cerebral Centering.” And they are so-o-o-o-o unbalanced.
Then there were folks whose minds were in their chests, big pecs, big boobs, throw out that chest, suck in that stomach…this was called “Pectoral Centering.” And we did exercises and we meditated and we moved and walked and jumped and learned to keep our minds at the dandian. And we had balance. Not just physical balance, but internal balance.
I have always had anger management problems. I once described my life as “fear and anger.” Well, this Centering certainly didn’t cure me but it helped me control my emotions. And I walked with better balance too. And I breathed from my dandian, with my diaphragm.
There is a certain good friend of mine who bounces up and down when he walks. When we are side-by-side I feel like he is on a Merry-Go-Round. Up and down and up and down…His center changes with each step.
So, go watch people walk. Try to identify the bouncers, and the pectoral centered, and the cerebral centered, and especially notice those who move from their true physical center. They are the least common.
And think about how unaware most people are of their bodies. Strong, healthy bodies are a great gift, but, I guess we might as well take it for granted. We tend to ignore everything that works right. It’s only when it goes wrong that we notice. That’s why Western medicine, allopathic medicine, is geared toward fixing what’s broken.
Now imagine not having that physical health, having pain when you walk or sit or stand or sleep. And give thanks for what you do have. Go for a walk or a swim or a bicycle ride. Sign up for yoga or tai chi or dancing and rejoice in the way your body works.
I have been lazy as of late and it’s starting to show up in the way I move. I close my eyes a little bit, and turn my head and try to ignore it, or I attribute it to old age, but it’s still there, and I find myself moving too fast (hurried) or a little off balance. No matter how hard I try not to look,it's still visible in the periphery. Guess it’s time to practice what I preach. Brothers and sisters, let us all make use of these strong bodies we were given. And if you’re not as strong as others or as strong as you used to be, well then start maintaining what you got before you lose it all.
Comments
Five years ago I moved from Tennessee, where the warm-weather outdoor activity season runs basically nine months of the year, to Wisconsin, where you're lucky to get four. Consequently I've put on about thirty pounds, lost all my endurance and, as you describe, my entire sense of physical balance; I'm working diligently to correct that. It doesn't help, alas, that writers do their hands-on work sitting.
Posted by: Alex | June 30, 2008 04:29 AM
What a wonderful discovery! I found your blog through Paul Jaquays’ recent connection to you on LinkedIn. Reading this journal entry is enormously serendipitous for me, and I want to thank you. Scoliosis has made my spine atypical. I have good intentions about practicing yoga every morning, and that practice helps far more than just the alignment and spine issues, but also with stress, awareness, all kinds of amazing stuff. I mess it all up again when I leave the yoga mat and just move through life, however. A Tai Chi instructor was once the guest teacher for my yoga class a few years back, and although his class was challenging in many ways, his lessons about balance and awareness of the center, what you describe here, were wonderful. The timing of his lessons didn’t jive for me back then, but now? Although now in a different city, maybe this is something I should investigate. I’ll certainly bookmark your blog and be back for more. Thank you for sharing – Namaste! ~Trace
Posted by: Trace o'Connor | August 5, 2008 07:16 AM