In early 1990, I first took up the practice of Tai Chi. After many years pursuing a career as a musician and music teacher, I felt the need to complement that sedentary occupation with a more physical component. Additionally, I had a feeling of being “stuck” and some part of me was prompting me to learn, grow, and explore. From my first class, I realized Tai Chi embodied great skill and acute intelligence. I had no idea how profoundly its practice would affect my life.

Tai Chi is based on the ancient Chinese model of Yin and Yang. Most are familiar with the symbol of the “two fishes” each containing the germ of its opposite. In practice, the Tai Chi adept learns to incorporate the seeming opposites of hard and soft, fast and slow, high and low, and so transcends their seeming duality. To me this was a revelation- my university philosophy classes led me to duality’s door, but could not imagine passing beyond its portals. In Tai Chi, I encountered Oriental wisdom for the first time, and grew to respect its profundity. Tai Chi prizes balance; developing flexibility in body and mind in order to respond adequately and efficiently to challenges. Fluid, continuous movement mimics the very current of life itself. Tai Chi’s injunction is to be Yin/Yang and release energetic and physical blockages. The results are profoundly transformative.

Independently of my Tai Chi practice, I had begun reading a little Zen literature. Like many people, I found it more engaging to read about than to actually practice. But our organization also held regular classes in meditation, so I began to attend. It wasn’t long before I realized that the practice of Vipassana or Insight mediation was the correlative of Tai Chi-that is, what Tai Chi promoted for the body, Vipassana did for the mind and subjective elements. Sitting quietly and observing the interior flow of thoughts and emotions revealed many of my habitual personality patterns, thought processes, and compulsions. Seeing those clearly without condoning or condemning led to a letting go, with a corresponding feeling of openness and expansiveness. My “stuck” feeling began to dissipate and changes in my life began. I saw that “letting go” or non-attachment was of the same order as Tai Chi's“balance” or removal of obstacles and restrictions. My conception of practice now recognized a two-fold nature: Tai Chi represented the Yang or active element of practice, while meditation was the Yin, or passive.

One of my favourite quotations is “The journey begins with the first step, and the first step is the last step.” To me it speaks of a never-ending process of learning and a recognition of the ceaseless dynamic of the transformative practices of Tai Chi and meditation.

Jeff Willis