What does it mean that T'ai Chi is an Internal Practice?

Recently,  a systematic review was published attempting to ascertain the different types of emphasis by T'ai Chi modalities. A lot of research on T'ai Chi is published, but usually the research doesn’t distinguish the approach a teacher chooses. In my experience, I have observed some T'ai Chi instructors focus on performing the form in competitions, some train to win medals in push hands, some focus strictly on health, and some focus on neijia, or internal martial arts.  

While all methods of teaching T'ai Chi share considerable overlap and most would be recognizable to the lay person as T'ai Chi, it is only when you delve deeper into T'ai Chi that you will be able to see the subtle differences between these general approaches. I have encountered T'ai Chi schools that focus on the performance of forms, and I have found them to be less substantive although more athletic, less internal and sometimes even rigid. For them, T'ai Chi is a more of an athletic dance than a martial art. There are many examples of this on youtube (click here). You can usually spot them when you see the practitioner raise their leg straight over their head. There is a ballet like aura to the movements, with a hushed silence as they slowly demonstrate their athletic prowess, albeit it in slow motion. I have also been to classes where it is purely a therapeutic movement with little or no demands on the body. Even though I enjoy T'ai Chi and love to see it performed in many ways, it is when I feel that internal body subtly moving do I completely become engrossed in the class. 

So what is Neijia?

Wikipedia’s definition is “Neijia is a term in Chinese martial arts, grouping those styles that practice neijing, usually translated as internal martial arts, occupied with spiritual, mental or qi-related aspects, as opposed to an ‘external’ approach focused on physiological aspects.” 

I disagree with parts of Wikipedia’s definition. While I would agree that neijia is classified as internal martial arts, I would not equate the external with physiological. It makes neijia seem elusive and mysterious. Neijia is, in fact, physiological but in a deeper way than just using large muscle groups. I would characterize external martial arts as using force and tension rather than relaxation or song (attentive relaxation).

I have trained with a few teachers that have emphasized the internal over the athletic dance style. In a blog post I wrote last year called “The Importance of Naturalness in T'ai Chi,” I discussed my experience with Gao Fu at a workshop, where she illuminated the path of neijia for me through zhan zhuang (standing meditation) and chan ssu jin (Silk Reeling Energy/Spiral Exercises). After that 5-day workshop, I became totally enthralled with neijia and rigorously searched for a teacher until I found Fong Ha, in Berkeley CA. The main part of Fong Ha’s teaching is zhan zhuang, and what blew my mind was that I am decades younger and many inches taller than he is, but I could not even budge him. He would stand on one leg and allow me to push him as hard as I could, and I failed to move him even an inch. Then when he was finished playing with me, he would shift a little and I would stumble off balance like an infant. Fong Ha and his teachings were elaborated on in the three-book series Warriors of Stillness by Jan Diepersloot. Those books introduced me to Fong Ha’s teachers, who have developed amazing internal abilities, like Master Cai and a few Yi Quan Masters, who were taught by Wang Xiang Zhai. Wang Xiang Zhai is an important figure in the resurgence of neijia because he developed an internal system of boxing that relied on standing meditation (zhan zhuang), which allowed him to push over an opponent with little external movement. While no videos exist of Wang Xiang Zhai, I have found one of a Tai Chi master doing push hands using neijia. (To see the video clip click here) Here is another more recent video clip of someone I have studied with here.

Neijia, the phenomenon

Something happens in T'ai Chi when you perform it ever so slowly and also while you are thoroughly engaged in standing meditation, which I believe is unique to T'ai Chi. For sure, there are many types of bodily awarenesses like being “in the zone” or feeling things happen in slow motion, but I have not experienced in other types of exercises what happens in T'ai Chi. In T'ai Chi, there seems to be a special focus on balance, specifically proprioception, that I believe is unique. Proprioception is defined as “is the sense of the relative position of one's own parts of the body and strength of effort being employed in movement. It is sometimes described as the "sixth sense." So, for the T'ai Chi practitioner, proprioception is not an afterthought like it might be in some other exercises, where your focus could be on jumping over a hurdle or swinging a racket at a ball. Of course, those exercises would facilitate proprioception, but what sets T'ai Chi apart is that the main focus is on proprioception. You turn your focus inward and work on using the mind to direct your center and its relationship to the ground and to other people, as in the case of push hands. Then something interesting happens: you start to see your body in a different way, not simply like outstretched arms reaching for something while keeping yourself upright but like a network of cables and fibers that are stretching and calibrating from your toes to your fingertips and everything in between. You feel whole. You feel connected but separate simultaneously.

What I have found is that the dance-like approach is closer to an external form and doesn’t feel like my whole body is fully engaged. I have to add that there are no studies I know of that research the benefits of one modality over another. It would be an interesting study but difficult to gather that many participants. So I can’t say which one is better with any credibility; however, what I can say is that being fully engaged is deeply fulfilling to me on a quality of life scale. I do think the athletic dance approach is more aesthetically pleasing, and I believe that makes people feel like it is the better approach. What I think gets lost following that path is the resistance you get from an outside force like push hands, which allows you to sense another’s intent. Then your body develops an ability to calibrate to external forces because you are directing and dispersing the force throughout your body using your intention via the network of fibers called the fascia. Having that force applied to your structure allows you to listen to it  and is what I believe makes it an “internal” approach. Simply stretching your body and assuming an athletic, albeit slow or static position, doesn’t necessarily mean you are directing it with your intention. When you use your intention, it deepens the quality of the movement and thus improves your mind-body connection.

I haven’t done much yoga, but I know many people draw a distinction between true yoga and gym yoga, criticizing gym yoga as being merely external and athletic, while true yoga is more internal and contemplative. I think the same distinction is drawn between internal T'ai Chi and the more external athletic dance approach. I would like to see a study using functional balance as a means of evaluating which of the different approaches is more efficacious. I know which one I would wager on. 

Survival Knife! Learning the hard way

On a plane heading to some islands off the Western coast of Canada, I met some guys who worked for a moving company. They had a large office move contract and offered me some work. I agreed, and when the job was completed, they asked me to come work with them in Vancouver, BC. I ended up working for them for 6 months. After a few months of working with them, I did not meet many people, so I was excited when my boss at the moving company asked me to go hunting with him and a few of his friends.

We drove many hours to a place called “Hundred Mile House.” During the drive, we were drinking beer and listening to Metallica's Black Album and being rowdy. On our drive, we were pulled over by a policeman. As the policeman approached our vehicle, the driver (my boss), who had previously rolled his large pickup truck over a few months ago, totally cracking the windshield, greeted the police officer. I distinctly remember the policeman telling him that it was illegal to drive with a windshield that had a crack longer than 12.” My boss, said, “sir, I don’t think there is one crack longer than 12” on the whole windshield.” We all burst out laughing. The whole windshield was like a spiderweb of tiny cracks. He let us go with a warning to fix the windshield. We began drinking beer again. Someone in the car said they left their flask in the back bed. I volunteered to climb out of the moving vehicle and retrieve it. Driving at night in the woods, I climbed out of the window and jumped into the back bed, grabbed the flask in his bag, and climbed back in. We finally and uneventfully pulled up to our motel. We were all pretty drunk. Next thing, I remember we were up at 4 am getting dressed and heading out into the woods.

It was a very cold, rainy November morning. My boss gave me a shotgun, pointed in a particular direction, and told me go out there and if I see a deer, shoot it. I had never been hunting before. I had been walking for a hour or so when I heard a shot. I walked over and my boss had just killed a deer. As I approached, I could tell the deer was still moving so I took out my knife and stabbed it in the throat. He was so impressed by that, he cut the deer open and removed its heart, and said I had to take a bite because it was my first kill. I balked, but he was insistent, so I reluctantly bit a chunk of the warm muscle. I immediately felt an adrenaline rush deep in my body. I now wanted to get my own true kill. Like a bloodhound in search of a fugitive, I charged off following deer tracks without taking my eye off the ground. I really do not remember how long I was searching, but when I looked up, the sun was just about to set.

An eerie chill went through my spine as the trees looked black and gnarled against the smoky pink sky. I simply didn’t notice where I was or what was happening weather-wise. My cotton jacket had a shell of ice from the rain, and the snow turned to sleet. The winds picked up, and I started screaming for help. Realizing I was totally screwed, I frantically yelled, but no one could hear me. I yelled till my voice was hoarse, and then I cried hard. The winds were so loud that it was useless even trying.

After a good bit of crying, A great fear hit me, I realized that wolves and bears could be out there stalking me. I searched for a clearing in the dark, and I took a long hard look around and realized I needed some protection from the elements. I started to get cold, really cold, and I remembered I had some power bars on me. I knew if I ate them, it would generate some body heat. I think I ate three. I felt around in the dark for a tree and cut off some cedar boughs with my Cold Steel SRK knife. It had a 6” blade and barely enough to cut through the boughs. I really had to use force. I remember the impact of those cuts on my wrist. As I started to make a crude shelter from the freezing rain, I found a piece of corrugated metal that was just lying a few feet away, and I surrounded myself by it and the boughs. I was still cold, so I would periodically get up and do some jumping jacks, and martial arts strikes. Those martial arts strikes really felt empowering in that dark, icy forest.

The thought of making a fire never entered my head. I think back then, I knew so little that the fact it was raining, with snow everywhere, meant it was impossible to make a fire. I am not even sure I had matches on me. I seriously doubt I would have made it through the night without becoming hypothermic. Luckily, after 6 hours or so, the winds died down, and I figured it would be a good time to fire the shotgun into the air as a signal device. After a short pause, I heard a shot. We continued to communicate with each other through gunshots, and I was finally able to find my way to them in the pitch dark. It was about 11 p.m., and they said they were just about to leave and notify someone. I can’t express how happy I was when I finally burst through that dense icy forest into an opening where my boss and his friends were.

Lessons Learned

Obviously, an experience like this is life-changing. I couldn’t help but think of how naive I was going into the woods and all the thoughtless decisions I made that led me into a life-threatening situation. There was a temptation to beat myself up; there was also a temptation to eschew ever going into the wilderness again. But as I thought it through, I realized who I was, and I used it as a way to improve myself.

So I set out to take my outdoor skills to a deeper level. After much reflection, three major areas can get you into and out of a survival situation: Decisions, Knowledge and Skills, and Tools.

Decisions

After being a father of two young boys, I realized just how stupid it was to get into a car that was already damaged from a previous drinking and driving accident. There was also the fact that I chose to walk out into a very unfamiliar forest in poor weather conditions without any training whatsoever. I am not beating myself up here, but I am examining some of the decisions I made leading up to my survival situation. Prior to that experience, I hadn’t spent too much time in the woods. Being a city boy, I didn’t grow up learning how to survive in the woods. This is why we can’t always make the right decision. I had always desired to go hunting but never knew anyone that did it. So I overlooked the bad cues because I really wanted to get out there and hunt. Still today, many people go for a hike and don’t even bring a water bottle or even carry a swiss army knife.

Knowledge and Skills

In short, I had none of either. Although I had never heard of hypothermia, I did know enough to keep my wits about me. I was fit; my martial arts background had given me a way to keep my body heated up. Eating something really helped me with increasing body heat, comfort, and keeping a positive outlook. Also, I intuitively knew I should cut some cedar boughs down to protect me from the icy rain. I had zero knowledge of shelter building, but somehow, I made a crude shelter in the night without a flashlight. I also didn’t know anything about navigation, and I lost contact with my hunting party. I am not sure I would have survived the night. I have not dressed appropriately for the weather. Back then, I knew nothing about gore-tex and the difference between waterproofing and water resistance. Most wilderness survival sites and instructors will tell you that knowledge and training are the two most important things to keep you from becoming a tragic news story, and I also endorse that thinking here. There is a wise saying in the survival world, “the more you know, the less you carry.“

Tools

If you search "survival situation preparedness”, you will find a ton of survival kits that talk about the gear you need. There is certainly a bunch of things I lacked in that situation. However, I did get four things right: I had a shotgun and shells, a decent-sized fixed-blade knife, really good boots, and those power bars. I lacked a proper jacket, a fire-starting kit, a whistle, a flashlight, and an emergency blanket. If I had all of those, I could have easily spent the night out there in the woods. I neglected to include a cell phone since this occurred way before the days' cell phones were carried regularly. If I had one, I would have called my boss, and we would have found each other in probably 20 or so minutes. But it is important to remember that a cell phone doesn’t not obviate the need for solid skills and training; batteries run out, and signals can be hard to come by in remote areas.

Going Forward

I should also mention that my experience was, typical of most survival experiences, a lost hunter, which is similar to getting lost hiking or fishing. It is important to acknowledge that while my experience was very challenging, it wasn’t as hardcore as Robinson Crusoe or plain crash survivors in the Andes. So I never would equate my 6-hour or so experience with people who were lost for days on end. But it does bring modest insights into the harshness of nature and what it takes to survive. I hope reading about my experience, you learn from my mistake and get inspired to learn a few skills and ensure that you have at least a few items in your bag to prevent you from getting into a survival situation. And if you are an experienced outdoorsman, look to my experience as a person who did not have many opportunities to get out in the woods and jumped at the first opportunity to get out there way too early and reflect on possibilities to share your skills with people who do not have opportunities to get out there.