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Tai Chi - A Journey Towards Wholeness
by Sarah Steele

Tai Chi has been a life changing experience for me. Not just because I now have improved stamina, better energy and more robust health, although all those things are true; it is because I now have more control over my physical body, and that is a revelation and a source of great joy.

I have slight cerebral palsy (CP) down the right side of my body. I want to stress at this point that, unlike other people who have CP to a much greater extent than I, mine is not a glaringly obvious physical challenge. In fact nowadays, if diagnosed early enough, with the right treatment children who have slight CP can show rapid improvement and overcome the challenges they might otherwise have. Back in the early 60's however, things were not quite so advanced. I was diagnosed late and my parents were told that nothing could be done. I didn't start walking until I was two and balance was so precarious that I would walk around with my hands in the air like a tightrope walker, so I wouldn't tip over! At six I had surgery to lengthen a tendon in my right leg, yet still I walk with a slight limp on my right side.

As I said earlier, mine is largely a hidden challenge. I look perfectly normal, I do most of the things other able people do and often people don't notice the difference. The only person who really notices is me, and over the years I have learned to adapt to my environment.

Basically the problem is poor balance and lack of coordination which meant that I learned to be hyper-vigilant as a child. I would trip over anything as I tended to drag my right leg and then fall badly because I couldn't save myself, so I would look at the ground rather than the world around me. I dreaded the winter months because I couldn't keep my balance on icy pavements. Carrying things up and down stairs has always been tricky as I need a banister to hold on to and I still get frightened in crowds in case I get pushed and topple over. And never ask me to fetch a round of drinks from the bar because I am only comfortable carrying one at a time! I grew up feeling that my body was unresponsive and clumsy. I longed for a body that would do what I asked it to do. Most of all, I wanted to dance. I have good rhythm and half my body always moved well; the other half felt lifeless, disconnected and shamefully uncoordinated.

By the time I got into my thirties I decided that I really wanted to see if there was anything I could do to improve my balance and coordination. Conventional physiotherapy did not appeal as I had tried that as a young teenager; it had not helped. I tried yoga but it felt too static. Eventually I decided to try Tai Chi. I had heard of a teacher in Nottingham, Shelagh Grandpierre, who ran classes. Too ashamed of showing in public how poorly coordinated I was I arranged to have individual lessons.

That first lesson was a real eye-opener. First of all, Shelagh demonstrated some traditional Yang style Tai Chi for me. I had never seen it before and I was dazzled by the beauty and poise of her movements. I longed to be able to do that myself but soon discovered just how much ground I had to make up.
 

 

The very first obstacle was the Tai Chi Walk. Never before had I really demonstrated how poor my balance was. Ordinary walking I had got down to a fine art; after all, I'd been doing it for over thirty years and had even stopped waving my hands in the air to keep my balance. But slowing everything down, moving with intent and, most especially having to carry all my weight on alternate legs for longer than is usual was more than I could manage. I was heartbroken that I could not even stand on my right leg long enough to move my left leg in front, yet I was determined to do it. Both Shelagh and I knew at that point that it was going to be a long hard slog!

For months and months, day after day I practised my Tai Chi Walk. I came close to giving up so many times because progress was so painfully slow. I felt angry and despairing that the simplest movement of putting one foot in front of the other seemed so impossible Shelagh gave me endless encouragement and looked at ways that we could modify the form, but all I could think was that I'll never be able to do it the way everybody else does. Slowly, slowly I began to work through the three sections of the traditional Form, painstakingly concentrating on every single movement to see how much I could do. Then it dawned on me that, precisely because it took so much more concentration, I was really learning how to do Tai Chi from the inside out!

Many people who have no such coordination problems sail through learning the movements of Tai Chi, but often learning the movements is all they do and Tai Chi is so much more than that. For me to have any chance of success I had to learn to apply the ten essences that the Yang family have distilled as the essential nature of their Tai Chi form. In their natural sequence these are:

Lift the head - raise the spirit.
Sink the shoulders - lower the elbows.
Loosen the chest - round the back.
Loosen the waist.
Separate the substantial from the insubstantial.
Coordinate the upper and lower body.
Continuity in movement.
Unite internal intent (mind) and external frame (body).
Use mind not force.
Seek stillness in motion and motion in stillness.
The first two are absolutely crucial, especially for me. In order for me to balance on my right leg I must first of all raise my spirit and look beyond as well as sink my shoulders and move my energy down to the dantien. Once I'd worked that out and discovered that balance was impossible without it progress became fast, and I began to work more on the other essences. Gradually my Tai Chi training became more internal as I grappled with applying the essences as well as learning the mechanics of the movements.

And so here I am today. I wish I could say that all the problems had disappeared but of course they haven't. It is still very hard work and I can stand on my right leg for maybe a few seconds before toppling over. I can't move as well as other people but I move brilliantly for me. Thanks to my streak of stubbornness that refuses to let me give in and a dedicated teacher I have gone further than I ever dreamed possible. And I dance. Blissfully.

Sarah is a trained counsellor and lives and works in Nottingham, UK.