Moving With the Hum of the Universe

I know this new age kind of language can turn people off. I usually write about the practical side of tai chi. But honestly, the more I practice, the more I see alignment as the priority. Even over fighting. Even over longevity.

I know that sounds strange coming from someone in public health. We are trained to focus on outcomes, on years, on metrics. But spiritual alignment and nervous system regulation matter in a deeper way. Maybe they lead to a longer life. Maybe they do not. But does the number of years really matter if you are out of tune?  

Another moment that shaped this for me happened almost 30 years ago. I met Master Fook Yueng at a workshop. He taught a form of Tien Shan Qi Gong that he had learned in Tibet. When I practiced it, the experience was immediate and undeniable. It felt like an acid trip without drugs. I was completely in tune. In that moment I knew I was going to do this for the rest of my life.

He was an incredible teacher. That experience also changed my relationship with substances. I have been sober for many years now because I realized I did not need anything external to access that state. The body and the mind are capable of it on their own.

There is another layer to this that I do not dismiss.

For me, the idea of being one with the universe is not abstract or poetic. It is motivating. It always has been.

I remember being a kid in high school when I first heard Brain Damage and Eclipse by Pink Floyd. The lyrics have stayed with me and continue to inspire me.  

And all that is now

And all that is gone

And all that's to come

And everything under the sun is in tune. 

It did not just sound good. It felt like a direction. Like something to aim at. A way of being.

I did not have the language for it then, but I knew I wanted that sense of connection. To be in tune. Not separate. Not fragmented.

I have strayed from that many times. But I have always come back. Even this morning.

Because there are moments when the body settles into something deeper than effort. The nervous system quiets. The noise drops out. What is left feels like alignment. Like you are moving at the right frequency.

You can call it vibrational. You can call it nervous system regulation. The language does not really matter.

What matters is the experience.

For me, that is where the real power is. Not just in strength or balance or longevity, but in the ability to settle into a state where the body and mind feel in tune with something larger.

And that state changes things.

It makes you want to move better.
It makes you want to take care of your body.
It makes you less willing to drift into that slow surrender.

So yes, the practical side matters.

But the feeling of being in tune, of moving with that underlying hum, is what keeps me coming back.

My Path in Qi Gong

The seeds of my path in Qi Gong were sown as I grew up with hippie parents in a working-class section of Brooklyn. Of my grandparents, one was a low-level gangster, and the other was a Veteran of D-Day. My father started smoking pot in the mid-sixties, and I grew up dancing to the Rolling Stones, Jimi Hendrix, the Beatles, etc. So I had this weird mix of free-spirit hippieness and a not-so-healthy dose of working-class pragmatism. My parents were into alternative healing, and my father even took Tai Chi from Robert Chuckrow in Westchester, NY. I attended a few classes but was so young and hyper that it didn’t grab me.
 

When I started karate in 1979, it was mainly for self-defense, but I did become interested in the Asian aesthetic and some martial wisdom—as much as a teenager could. 

Then, as an awkward high schooler, my need for self-defense grew and overshadowed any aesthetic musings. My experience with trauma and feeling alienated was in full bloom. When my karate school closed, I got darker and more aggressive, which lasted for a few years. At that time, I met Rocky Graziano, Jake La Motta, and a few other famous boxers. After that experience, I felt kind of turned off by fighting. Even as a 17-year-old in pre-politically correct days, hearing the N-word shouted out when a Black former Heavyweight champion entered the room didn't sit right—adding to that their faces had been remodeled from being hit there so many times. 

After fighting in the Golden Gloves Tournament at Madison Square Garden and my experiences with some boxing champs, fighting was not a great life choice. I also met a girl who was into dancing and art, and my friends turned me onto Pink Floyd’s music; their albums, The Wall, Wish You Were Here, and Dark Side of the Moon, notably Eclipse, showed me a vision of understanding psychological pain and alienation and being in tune with the Universe seemed like the right path. Then, I started taking drugs to explore a shamanistic union with nature. I went to art school to pursue this further. I spent the next 10 years pursuing a vision of art that was trying to become in tune with nature. I attended a College in a mountain town in New York State. This was my first experience in the mountains. So, journeying to the mountains and taking psychedelics became a passion. I became frustrated with the school’s demands and wanted to be a free spirit. I lost my pragmatic side. 

After a series of profound life changes, I left everything in NY and decided to hitchhike to California as a free spirit, taking a copy of the Tao Teh Ching with me. I eventually landed in Taos, NM, and some truly magical things sparked a spiritual transformation. Unfortunately, I was on the receiving end of some nasty experiences and witnessed the backstabbing all too common in the art world. To be clear, I was also not in a mentally healthy space either. So I left Taos and headed to Seattle just when grunge took off, and I felt at home there. After more backstabbing experiences in the art world, I began questioning what art even offers me. I also became friends with the girlfriend of Alice In Chains’s Lead singer, Demri. I saw her 3 days before she was to die from a drug overdose. She looked like an old woman. When I heard she died, I knew this path wasn’t for me. The pursuit of fame is a black hole filled with backstabbing and an ever-present gravitational pull toward an early death. 

It seemed like the universe was looking out for me, and this theme kept coming up in my life; I knew I needed a change, and martial arts saved me once as a young man. So, I knew it was something I needed again.  I attended an Aikido school in Seattle. I learned a great deal, but the teachers demanded a large amount of money for testing. When I said I didn’t know if I had it, the teacher yelled at me. I knew right there I was done with that school. Moreover, I was experiencing some pain from injuries as a young man, so I spoke with my Naturopathic Doctor, and he suggested I take Tai Chi. I had already been doing a lot of acupuncture for the pain, so it seemed like a natural progression. 

I loved Tai Chi and began practicing every day. I started reading every book on Qi Gong I could find, knowing this was my path. My chronic wrist pain and early exposure to Asian healing methods seem to come to fruition in my study of Tai Chi and Qi Gong. 

This started me getting involved in health; my wrist injury was the main instigator of this pursuit, leading me to understand more about the human body and Chinese Medicine. I became fascinated with the body and Qi Gong and opened the door to a path that unified nature, health, and the body. A friend in my Tai Chi class told me about a Qi Gong master named Dr. Wong. I immediately attended his class that Saturday. Dr. Wong began discussing Traditional Chinese Medicine theory and how Qi Gong was an integral path.  

Soon after, I attended the famous Energetic Retreat in Washington State, where I first met Fook Yueng. Fook Yueng is a renowned Qi Gong master who demonstrated some serious skills even in his 80s. At that retreat, I also met Gao Fu, a famous Chen Tai Chi Master who was also in her 80s. Both these masters were so healthy and fit that I knew I needed to commit to this path. I also thought to myself that I felt like my old art school days of tripping in the mountain, but I was able to do it without drugs, and more importantly, it was positive and healing with no adverse side effects. 

Through a long, committed practice, I have learned to trust my body. The wisdom and the Qi are there; it always gives you what you need if you listen.

The Importance of Naturalness in Tai Chi

Tao Te Ching - Lao Tzu - chapter 53

If I have even just a little sense,

I will walk on the main road and my only fear will be of straying from it.

Keeping to the main road is easy,

But people love to be sidetracked.

When the court is arrayed in splendor,

The fields are full of weeds,

And the granaries are bare.

Some wear are gorgeous clothes,

Carry sharp swords,

And indulge themselves with food and drink;

They have more possessions than they can use.

They are robber barons.

This is certainly not the way of Tao.

(translation by Gia-fu Feng and Jane English)

When first studying Tai Chi, a common question usually arises about coordinating breath with the movements. That one question needs a little background before it can be answered. Let's start with a seminar, I attended in 1999 with Madame Gao Fu. She was 82 at the time. It was a seminar in which you could choose who you want to workout with. I was new to Tai Chi and did not know who was famous and who was not. There were other teachers there who offered exotic styles with even more exotic names.

But all this 82 year old Chinese woman taught was zhan zhuang (standing meditation), and chan ssu jin (standing and doing spiral movements) for 3 hours per day. I thought there must be something to this because her practice is so simple while the others at the workshop presented more complicated esoteric forms. I ended up practicing with her for the rest of the 5 days. Towards the end of each practice we got a chance to ask questions. Someone in the crowd asked about matching the breathing with the movements. Madame Gao Fu said it was not necessary to try to match them up. Adding that after continued practice they would come together naturally. During one of those question sessions I asked, "my connection to my Qi comes and goes; sometimes I feel really in tune and then it goes away." "Is that how it is supposed to be?" She said that the more you practice the deeper the connection until you are never disconnected.

What Madame Gao Fu espoused was a type of natural unforced but committed practice, while standing in place or moving. Now in 2017, 18 years later, I still remember that seminar and I am still deeply committed to the wisdom she passed on.

Often when simply being natural you are perceived as lazy and in America laziness is the enemy. To just be natural in America is difficult because so many experts want you to DO STUFF, ACCOMPLISH GOALS and ACHIEVE RESULTS. I have found a lot of conflicting messages being promoted by health experts in America, "you should diet," "go jogging," "think positive," "have social networks," "sleep 8 hours per night,""set goals," "be successful," "challenge yourself," "meditate daily" and "reduce stress." The problem is that people are lost and the experts are lost. The Tao just is. All you have to do is follow the current. Where is the current? It is everywhere but the best place to start is in your body.

Many years ago when I visited Mississippi. My wife wanted to take me to her family summer vacation spot, the Buffalo River in Arkansas. There my wife and I went in a canoe and her father and mother went in a separate canoe. My father-in-law is a very devout Christian in Mississippi and I was this Tai Chi practitioner who KNEW the Tao, After all I have been studying the Tao Te Ching since the 80s. But this very 'square,' in the 60’s sense, school district superintendent, put his canoe in the water as I did. As he entered the river he effortlessly glided towards the part of the river where the current was strongest, whereas I battled the water and huffed and puffed and shouldered my way to that same current then it changed, as currents tend to do, and I lost it. So I again struggled to get into the right path. I would look up and there was this old guy blissfully gleaming along. Granted it was my first and really only time canoeing in a river but it is a good example of how to find the Tao.The Tao is not exclusively found in China, it is not owned by Taoists it simply is. You don’t even have to do Tai Chi to find it, although, I find that the pace of Tai Chi and the movements themselves reveal a deep understanding of the spiral energy that is part of the universe and doing them assists in finding the current within yourself.

There are two parts to this naturalness, one is the release to the Tao, the state of which is wu wei. I have explained wu wei before. It is a type of thoughtful non-action. It is not simply doing nothing, which many interpret it as and it is not using force to make something happen either. The second part of naturalness is song. Song is a state of being, like being relaxed but with a slight level of attentiveness. So it is not standing at attention like a soldier nor is relaxing at a beach in Cabo. It is somewhere in between.

Song is also applied to parts of the body and it involves conscious releasing of control of the waist, neck etc. The hardest part of Tai Chi is to release these parts of the body where most people store their tension. You find when working on this release that you are more able to find your center of balance because many of us are living in a shell like body that is not even aware of our true place on earth.

So to attain song is the first important but hardest step because it allows for the energy to settle in your dan tian and then it can start is transformation process.

Tao Te Ching - Lao Tzu - chapter 15

Who can wait quietly while the mud settles?

Who can remain still until the moment of action?

Observers of the Tao do not seek fulfilment.

Not seeking fulfillment, they are not swayed by desire for change.

(translation by Gia-fu Feng and Jane English)

There are a lot of hours, maybe a lifetime of work that goes into what was just described above. In fact that is the main practice, whether you chose to just sit and meditate or do the most esoteric ancient qi gong, song is the main activity to find the Tao. You can not find your center without song, you cannot do Tai Chi without song, and you can not attain wu wei if you do not song.

Note: Tai Chi could mean the series of postures most people think when Tai Chi is mentioned or it could be the balancing of yin/yang energies to canoe a river more adeptly or live to a ripe old age of 88 and still be teaching a physical activity.

"Madame Gao Fu died in Beijing January 17, 2005 at 88 years of age, following a brief illness."
http://seattletaiji.oo.net/bio.htm