Sooner or later people ask me, “So, what’s your story?”  Or, more politely put, “So, how did you get into T’ai Chi?” 
So, My Story:
My life generally reads like fantasies and foolishnesses.
On the foolishness side: Soon after my return from Taiwan I was giving a workshop when an attendee came up and, in a voice resonating with accusation, said, “I wish I could go to China and study T’ai Chi.”
Sorry, I quit my job, sold the car and cashed in my retirement to go.  You could probably swing it.
My name is Jeff and I run Elementary T’ai Chi Ch’uan, “the studio” in Catonsville, MD.  I also teach at any and every venue that will take me.  I have been teaching in this area since late 1991.
My descent into the maelstrom of T’ai Chi began in 1973 when, to satisfy one of my father’s whims, I signed up for a class at the New School for Social Research in New York City.  I had never heard of T’ai Chi and had less than zero interest in it when I showed up for that first fatal class of cheer.  The teacher was some guy name of Herman Kauz .  Never heard of him either.
I had no insight, no history, no preconceptions but managed to walk in on a teacher with experience both deep and broad.
I clearly remember thinking, as I floated home that night on wobbly knees, “Yeah, this is something I could do for the rest of my life.”  Neither the first nor last foolish thought to grace my path.
After learning the form and taking one confusing, memorable push hands class, I was snatched away by another of my father’s directives to attend college in Annapolis… no, not the Naval Academy…  That would have been ironic in the extreme, snatched from one navel study to another….
I met with Herman whenever I was in NYC, and finally he referred me to another teacher, one Bob Smith who taught somewhere in Washington, DC.  It took me a while to realize that there were just too many Smiths, Bob, Robert, B and R, in the DC phonebook to call them all on my student stipend.  
On a trip to NYC I dared ask for more information (it actually took me a few attempts to screw my courage to the sticking point and ask) and got a street name.  Well, sort of… it was some kind of tree, but that was enough and I finally located Mr. and Mrs. R. W. Smith.
I had never heard of the guy, but if Herman thought it would be ok for me to study with him, I guessed it would be ok. 
That was 1975.  Despite my attitude, attendance and general incompetence, Mr. Smith suffered me to continue.  He tried to shake me off, but by this time, desperate to learn something, I gritted my teeth and hung on.  Mrs. Smith seemed to like me ok.
In a moment of inspiration, Mr. Smith finally got rid of me by providing an introduction to Mr. Liu, Hsi-hung, who was visiting the US in 1987 to show something of his K’u Kong to the American T’ai Chi community.
I fell for that old guy immediately and at the end of the workshop asked him if I could come to Taiwan and study with him.  He smiled and, certain it would never happen, said it would be ok.
September of that year I was debarking a plane at Taipei International Airport with a few thousand dollars, a wife, no clear plan and no job.  Foolishness….?
Yeah, well….
I did find a job, and we did stay until December of 1991.  I met with Mr. Liu 2-3 times a week and, in the last 2 years, attended classes at the Shr Jung T’ai Chi Center , graduating first in class in 1991.  That really wasn’t fair since most of the other people in my class were new to the system, but I ran the course of instruction unaware until it was too late that we were being graded.  Oh well.  Looks good on a resume. 
Ben Lo handed me my diploma (“Hey, I’m certified!”...) during the graduation ceremony at Shr Jung.  This gave me great personal pleasure since I already had had the honor, joy and sorrow of attending some of his T’ai Chi Camps in Frost Valley, New York.
So, returning to the States, I flumped around for a while, teaching in spaces like the Bowie YMCA, the St. John's College Boathouse, Catonsville Senior Center, Catonsville Presbyterian Church, Howard Community College and the Good and Good For You health food store until I lucked into the studio on Frederick Road.
It is a cold and hard little place, but all mine (well, I rent it 24/7), which means I don’t have to move tables and chairs or re-schedule around other people’s holidays and special events.  Kind of nice since it lets me run over scheduled time if the class seems to be moving forward. 

Since ’91, I have been back to Taiwan a number of times, most recently in 2007, when I managed to get in some quality (read “brief”) time in and around the city I think I love more than any other in my experience, Taipei.
During that visit I had a chance to reconnect with old friends and classmates as well as discover new people, places and things.  My partner, Rebekah, and I had an opportunity to visit the Cheng, Man-Ch’ing Memorial Center and see some of the Professor’s personal belongings.  We spent a lovely afternoon there.  I recommend the visit to anyone who manages to get to Taiwan.

More Personal Stuff
Other Interests:
Rock Climbing, Swimming Pool, Chinese Tea, fitful study of the Mandarin Chinese Language, and the occasional tinkering with Asian Body Mechanics (read Qi Gong and Martial Arts).
I am a beginning rock climber, struggling to make stuff above, say 5.9-ish.  That’s in the gym… I find outdoor routes somewhat more challenging but much more satisfying. 

On the 2007 trip I took a day off to climb at a beachside site in northeast Taiwan known as Dragon Cave.  I also climbed in the hills above Peitou, an old stomping ground when I lived there in the late 1980’s.  That made me wish I had known about rock climbing in those days, though I was busy enough trying to learn somewhat of T'ai Chi.
My skill at Swimming Pool is a remnant of a, well misspent youth on the swimming and diving team in high school.  In those days, I also was into SCUBA (I worked as a SCUBA instructor for a few years) and snorkeling, both of which I have given up since settling here in the frozen north.  These waters are too cold, dark, fast and rugged for me.  Although I took my instructor’s certification in Boston in February, 1970, most of my diving was done between Miami and Martinique.  Softie stuff; warm and colorful.
I think breathing skills honed under water have helped me develop my focus in T’ai Chi.
My love of Chinese Tea (and language) was developed, naturally, during my stay in Taiwan.  Some have accused me of becoming a “tea snob” since my return.  This is not, technically, correct.  I was a tea snob before I went to Taiwan.  Then, however, I didn’t know Twinings doesn’t make tea.  These days my preferences lean toward (old) Yun Nan Pu Ehr and Alishan Oolong.

My favorite Food: 
Yes, gosh, well… is tea food?  And the list goes on… the world is full of some really good food.  Since I am a vegetarian, sort of, it is convenient, perhaps inevitable, that my preferred cuisine is, “Surprise!”, Chinese (they have a lot of Buddhists, who tend to be vegetarian..) with other Asian delicacies (especially fruits) coming in a close second…. Uh, ‘cept for pizza…. is pizza Chinese????

 

 

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A Little History Note

There are a lot of stories, mostly conflicting, about the evolution of T'ai Chi Ch'uan
Here’s my 2¢:

T'ai Chi Ch'uan theory is reflective of the I Ching and the Tao Te Ching, two classical, philosophical works of China. The original T'ai Chi Ch'uan consisted of 13 postures.The first eight were ward-off (p’eng), roll-back (lu), press (chi), push (an), pull (tsai), split (lieh),elbow (chou), and shoulder (k'ao), corresponding to the ba kua (eight trigrams) of the I Ching. The remaining five are: look left, advance, retreat, gaze right, and central equilibrium, corresponding to the Wu Hsing (Five Elements) of Chinese philosophy .

The creation of T'ai Chi Ch'uan is generally attributed to Taoist monks at the monastery of Wu Dang Mountain.Typically, it is believed that T'ai Chi Ch'uan was developed by Master Chang San-feng, a renowned Taoist monk who lived from about 1200 A.D. to 1500 A.D.Practicing T'ai Chi Ch'uan certainly must be good for health and longevity!(More probable dates for Master Chang are A.D. 1279-1368, still not bad for those days.)

During the Ming Dynasty, Master Chang reportedly saw a snake and bird doing battle.Although the bird was quick, it was not able to overcome the snake’s relaxed, sinuous movement.From this, Master Chang developed the original T'ai Chi Ch'uan. Some people believe it was granted to him in a dream (or nightmare!).

After Master Chang, we hear about Master Wang Tsung-yueh.During the Ch'ing dynasty, he supposedly gave T'ai Chi Ch’uan to the Chen family in Honan.They kept it a secret system until Yang Lu-ch'an, a family servant, secretly watched and mastered the system.
Rather than execute the young upstart, the Chen family accepted this audacious student as a disciple and permitted him to continue his practice.

He later served in the imperial palace, teaching T’ai Chi Ch’uan to the palace guard (around 1800).Master Yang Lu-ch’an also taught his art to his sons: Feng-hou, Pan-hou, and Chien-hou.Yang Chien-hou passed his art to his son, Yang Cheng-fu (1883-1935), who brought T'ai Chi Ch'uan to East and South China.

Yang Cheng-fu taught, among others, Professor Cheng Man-ch'ing (1900-1975).

After moving from Mainland China to Taiwan, Professor Cheng Man-ch'ing popularized a simplified form of Yang Cheng-fu’s T'ai Chi Ch'uan. He established a school known as the Shr Jung T'ai Chi Ch'uan Association for the purpose of distributing this Simplified (37-Posture) Yang Style T'ai Chi Ch'uan.The school had offices in Taipei and New York.At this time, Shr Jung in Taipei is still active.

In America, Professor Cheng's senior students include:Mr. Benjamin Lo, Mr. Robert Smith, Ms. Maggie Newman, Mr. Wolf Lowenthal and Mr. Ken Van Sickle.There are others who I have not had the honor to meet.

property
of jeff herrod/elementary t’ai chi ch’uan

FIVE PRINCIPLES
OF
T'AI CHI CH'UAN

1)       Body Upright:  (Suspend the head-top):  The sacrum remains erect.  The top of the head is suspended from a string.  The eyes look toward the horizon, the lids lowered slightly, as if in thought.  The hips and shoulders are kept level and remain aligned with each other at all times (do not twist the spine, it is not a dishrag).  Leaning in any direction (left, right, forward, or backward) should be minimized.  Try to discover a connected, upright line from the sole of the support (substantial, that is to say, yang) leg to the crown of the head.

2)       Move the Waist:  (Turn the waist):  All motion is guided from the waist.  Feet, legs, hands, arms, shoulders, the chest, even the head, move as part of the waist.  All parts of the body move together; no part moves independently of the rest.  Imagine the waist to be a flywheel.

3)       Separate Weight: (Distinguish Substantiality and Insubstantiality):  When standing on one leg, stand on that leg alone.  None of the body weight should be in the other leg.  The one leg is thought of as "substantiality” (yang).  The other leg is thought of as "insubstantiality" (yin). 

4)       Maintain Fair Lady's Hand:  The tendons and sinews of the hand and arm should never be clenched.  The wrist is not acutely “bent” or “broken”.  Create a continuous, tapering line from the elbow to the tip of the middle finger.  Imagine a garden hose with water running through it; no kinks to impede the flow.

5)       Relax:  String the bones loosely together at the joints.  Soften the muscles.  Use mind and will before strength.  There is an old saying: “The mind moves the ch’i: the ch’i moves the body.”  Relax the body like a child sleeping but remain fully alert and conscious.  Let go of "your" ideas.  Simplify.  Slow down but keep moving.

BOOKS ABOUT T'AI CHI

You might benefit from the following books.  Then again, you might not.
They are not required nor necessarily recommended. 
Remember:
"Each minute you spend reading is 2 minutes you have spent not practicing."

1) T'ai Chi Handbook by Herman Kauz, Doubleday Dolphin Books.  A clearly presented "how to" for the beginning student.

2) T'ai Chi, the Supreme Ultimate Exercise by Cheng, Man-ch'ing and Robert Smith.  A translation of Professor Cheng's "how to" book about T'ai Chi Form.  A bit more complex than Herman’s book, but good to have at some point.

3) T'ai Chi Ch'uan Ta Wen by Chen Wei-ming, translated by Benjamin Lo and Robert Smith, North Atlantic Books.  A question-answer format with Chen, Wei-ming asking questions of Yang, Cheng-fu.

4) Masters and Methods by Robert W. Smith. This text includes a discussion of T'ai Chi Ch'uan in the context of Chinese Martial Arts.

5) The Martial Spirit by Herman Kauz.

6) Tao Te Ching, by Lao Tzu (almost any translation will do, but I like the one from St. John's Press.  I can't remember the translator's name and can't seem to put my hand on my copy right now... that's the way it is with the Tao, it's never around when you want to talk about it.)  This is widely considered the seminal text on the Chinese philosophy known as Taoism.  Also consider My Words Are Easy To Understand by Cheng, Man-Ch'ing (translated by Tam Gibbs).

Books that are out of print or hard to find but good to have:

7) Cheng tzu's Thirteen Treatises on T'ai Chi Ch'uan by Cheng, Man-Ch'ing (Translated by Benjamin Lo), North Atlantic Books.  Professor Chneg's advanced text about his T'ai Chi form and application. 

8) Embrace Tiger, Return to Mountain by Al Huang.  A rather prosaic treatment of ideas that accompany T'ai Chi Ch'uan.

9) The Essence of T'ai Chi Ch'uan  Translated by  Benjamin Lo, North Atlantic Press.  A compilation of seminal writings.

10)) Comprehensive Asian Fighting Arts by Donn Draeger and Robert Smith.

            There are lots of others, these are just some with which I am familiar.  In looking for texts about T'ai Chi Ch'uan (Taiji Quan), it is helpful to know that the style you are studying here is the Simplified (or Shortened) Yang Style.  This system is sometimes called the 37-Posture T'ai Chi Form.  The Grandmaster of this system was Professor Cheng, Man-Ch'ing (see numbers 2,6, and 7, above).

In sensing hands practice last night we were working on a technique (I know, I know: “terrible techniques,” the stuff of nonsense) in which the “dummy” pushed on the “tcc master’s” shoulder and the “tccm” turned waist to follow the incoming force, using the momentum generated to pick up their arms and trap “dum’s” pushing arm, then turned back to throw out or trap “dum.” I noticed some people were having trouble trapping and then returning. I sashayed up to one couple and said to “tccm “Go ahead and close that arm all the way to you so you ‘embrace’ their arm before turning back.” “Oh,” tccm said, “you mean, let the motion of the arm continue?” Of course, I agreed and moved on, but this morning, I was thinking about that exchange. An excellent incorporation of wu wei: “Let the motion continue.” By merely allowing the incoming force to move the waist, and the waist to move the arms and the arms to follow that pendulation, the incoming force is frustrated and “dum’s” arm is trapped. Not only does the body have to relax, but the mind, the intention does also.  Minimal interference. This is what Ben Lo may be pointing to in his video when he says something like,  “The whole body has to relax. And, of course, the mind, too.” Remember, relax is not collapse. As the intention softens it does not have to disappear entirely. Rather, it should learn to follow the incoming intention, interpret the incoming intention, agree with the incoming intention, make the incoming intention its own, turn the intention back on itself in self-discovery and reflection. Then let it go. When I was musing on this earlier, the idea of “learned spontaneity,” which is a favorite toy these days, crept through my brain. In the same way that the arm circles upward as a result of my non-interference in “dum’s” push, so the “embrace and turn back” is something I learn to discover in the moment, rather than something I set out to effect. Learned spontaneity. Hence, the rejection of “terrible technique.” I always hope the players will look past these techniques to the principles of learned spontaneity (wu wei) that lie at the core.

There seems to be increasing emphasis on the use of strength in T'ui Shou. How much is strength? How much is force? When your strength goes against or resists, rebounds internally or results from effort, then it is force and is to be eschewed. In other words, when you feel your own power, it is probably force, the kind of power that comes with external styles (Wai Jia).This is not saying that you should never use strength, but rather that strength should not rebound, should not resist. The analogy has been made to throwing a ball. When you throw well, there will be little or no sensation of strength. If the throw is not linear, does not allow any going against, even within your body, there will be no strain. Done correctly, it feels as if there is no strength; as if whatever power affects the throw comes from and remains on the outer surface. Quite strange. The body rebounds firmly, elastically, but there is no sense of going against, of personal power, just this elasticity (T'i Fang) as your partner goes out. You can often see this in the pushing of more experienced players. There is a rebounding or bouncing of the duo as the partner begins to go out. Another kind of push can be seen in the practice of an advanced student with a less advanced student. This push relies on tension and imbalance in the partner's body. Having discovered the presence, alignment and synthesis of these two, the advanced player may apply only the slightest amount of contact along the appropriate line and the lower level player will jump back. This does not mean that the lower level player decides to jump back. Quite the opposite. This player will be surprised to discover that he has no choice. The partner pops out much like a spring that has been compressed along a curve will pop out of your fingers. The secret, of course, is subtly to maneuver your partner to the position where he compresses himself pretty much to the limit. The Big Secret is, the more tension he has in his body at the outset, the closer he already is to the limit. Then you need only add a small amount of energy to the system, often by merely redirecting his motion. Diligent teaching of the solo form, of T’ai Chi principles and of basic T’ui Shou aim at helping players rid them of unnecessary tension and develops an awareness of balance and softness such that it becomes difficult to find and synthesize the two: tension and imbalance. The sensitivity required for the skill of finding (and hiding) one's central point is that which allows the competent T'ai Chi player to use his sport as a system of defense and attack. It is the development of this sensitivity towards which the disciplines of relaxation and Chung Ting (central equilibrium) are cultivated in T'ai Chi. In the refinement of this sensitivity, the pursuit of T'ai Chi may become a lifelong fascination. Searching for, discovering and synthesizing tension and imbalance in your partner so that they may be used to push him out with a minimum of contact are where the use of force disappears and T'ui Shou aspires to its highest. It is also here that the most unbelievable events occur. People are thrown great distances for no apparent reason and with little or no apparent movement by the player. Tremendous velocities result and bodies land with wall-shuddering authority. Reliance by either player on force reduces this sport to brute brawling and shoving. Unfortunately, brawling cannot to be denied as one possible application of T'ai Chi T'ui Shou, but it should not be imagined as its sole, or even highest, purpose.

STANCES IN T’AI CHI CH’UAN

In T’ai Chi Ch’uan there are only two stances.  The first, and most common, I call the “Seventy-Thirty (70-30) Stance.”  The other I refer to as the “Hundred-Zero (100-0) Stance.”  I use the word stance to refer to the disposition of the legs and feet in those positions that are 1) named and 2) routinely held for extended periods to facilitate correction and personal development; i.e., Postures.
These numbers: 70, 30, 100, 0, refer to weight supported by the leg.  The 70 leg holds 70% of the body weight; the 100 leg holds 100% of the weight.  These legs I refer to as full or “yang.”  They provide the rising energy that supports the body.  The 30 and 0 legs I refer to as empty or “yin;” they provide a conduit for routing energy back into the ground.

The Hundred-Zero Stance

Although it is more athletic, the 100-0 stance is easier both to understand and do than is the 70-30 stance.  It is more athletic since it requires that one leg, in a moderately bent condition, support the entire weight of the body and one-pointed balance through the spine.  This stance can be used to build strength in the quads, stillness in the mind and determination in the will.
The structural design of the 100-0 stance is very simple.  One foot, flat on the floor, conducts all the weight of the body into the ground.  The ankle and knee of the support (yang) leg are flexed slightly.  The hips are level on top of the leg, and the spine rises naturally lengthened out of the pelvis.  The head is levelly suspended on the tip of the spine.  The empty leg is suspended either completely off the ground, anywhere from shin height to hip height, or just grazing the ground with either the toe or heel. 
When T’ai Chi players are moving about, lifting the foot to step or settling it gently on the ground preparatory to receiving weight, the structural design of the body should be governed by the constraints of the 100-0 conditions.  Since the 100-0 stance is more athletic than the 70-30 stance, it would seem that the movements (i.e., Transitions) of the T’ai Chi form are more challenging than the Postures.   

The Seventy-Thirty Stance

This is the fundamental stance of the T’ai Chi form and deserves some consideration.  It occurs in about 70% of the Postures.  This stance provides stability and strength and a rooted, immediate conduit (the yin leg) for the transfer of incoming energy to the ground.  It also admits the possibility of moving the torso from one location (the left foot, for instance) to another (the right foot) instantaneously.  It may be used to develop strength in the yang leg and relaxation and flexibility in the yin leg.  Although the 100-0 stance supports the entire weight of the body, I find the 70-30 stance far more difficult both to understand and accomplish.
Practically speaking, we distinguish between two types of 70-30 stances.   In the “Right 70-30 Stance” the right foot supports 70% of the body weight while the left foot supports 30% of the body weight.  In the “Left 70-30 Stance” the reverse is true; i.e., the left foot supports 70% of the body weight and the right foot 30%. 
This 70-30 distribution of weight may give rise to some confusion.  Although the weight is distributed 70% in one (say the left) leg and 30% in the other (right) leg, the internal conviction that the weight is entirely supported on the left leg arises.  Despite this conviction, when the player attempts to lift his empty (right) foot he discovers it is not possible to do so without moving the body or straining.  This is 70-30.  The internal feeling that “most of my weight is in the front leg” is a sign of that heinous crime, Double Weighting, for the body is being supported at two places.
In either the Left or Right Stance the T’ai Chi player is standing on two diagonally opposed corners of a rectangle.  The width of the rectangle is equal to the width of the player’s shoulders.  The length varies from player to player and is dependent on the player’s experience, leg strength and flexibility.  For the average player a challenging stance length is 2 ½ to 3 times the player’s own foot length.  This distance is measured from the tip of the front foot to a line perpendicular to and issuing from the heel of the back foot.
In a Left 70-30 Stance, the left foot is the support foot.  The longitudinal axis (toes) of this foot point to the front of the stance and occupy the front left corner of the rectangle upon which the player stands (see Figure 1). 
The heel of the right foot occupies the right rear corner of this rectangle and conducts 30% of the body mass into the ground.  The toes of the right foot are turned outwards from the length of the rectangle at an angle of about 45°.  This angle may be variable from 30° to 60°, depending on the flexibility of the player’s right hip, a wider angle implying greater flexibility.  Following the middle way here, I will use 45° as the default angle of the back foot in the 70-30 stance.
In a Right 70-30 Stance, the feet are reversed, but everything else is substantially the same: right toes straight ahead, left toes at a 45° angle, etc.  For the balance of this discussion, I will restrict myself to the Left 70-30 Stance.  It is up to you to invest your creativity in transferring the knowledge here to a Right 70-30 Stance.
Both feet rest flat on the floor, pressure everywhere the same.  The toes should not grip the floor, but be allowed to spread out naturally, the entire foot adhering to the floor and allowing the weight of the body to pass through to the ground.  Relax the ankles as well.
It might be helpful to stand quietly for a moment and cast your attention to the sole of the foot.  There is a point on the sole that does not touch the floor.  Attempt to focus your weight, like a narrow beam, through the center of that point.  Then allow the pressure of that weight to spill evenly out and around that center.  This is the way you want to feel and envision both feet in the 70-30 stance (and the 100 foot in the 100-0 stance).
In the 70-30 Stance, the yang leg starts in Bubbling Well in the ball of the support foot, runs up to the hip and across the pelvic bone to terminate in the hip of the other leg.  We might call the left leg the “left leg-waist” to emphasize this connection of the foot to the opposite hip joint, but “leg-waist” is quite a mouthful.  If you can just remember that when we say “leg” we really mean “leg-waist,” everything will be just fine.
It is worthwhile to note that this idea of leg-waist applies as well to the 100-0 Stance.  That is, the 100, or yang, leg runs from Bubbling Well up to the opposite hip joint.  In both cases, it is well to visualize the yin leg as hanging from and being supported by the yang leg-waist.  Thus the yang leg-waist lifts and separates the yin leg, which relaxes to receive the lifting energy of the yang leg-waist.
In the 70-30 Stance, the yin leg runs from the Bubbling Well to the ankle.  The space from the ankle to the hip is empty.  This leg can be thought of as the “foot-leg,” but that might be pushing things a bit too far.  In any case, this yin leg does not provide any lifting or supporting strength.  The foot rests lightly on the ground; adhering but not pushing, it provides a point of balance.  It provides access to ground and can serve to shunt incoming energy or receive a shifting torso instantaneously.
The front of the 70-30 Stance is indicated by the direction of the toes (longitudinal axis) of the yang (70) foot (review Figure 1).  Thus, most of the 70-30 Postures also will take this direction as the front, although in the case of the Postures, which include possible function, I would rather call this the “Primary Focus.”
Continuing up the yang leg, the shin, knee and length of the thigh-bone also point to the front.  The pelvic bone, however, is supported horizontally and at a 90° angle to the toes, spanning (and establishing) the width of the stance.  The navel, therefore, points to the front.
The shin of the yang leg rises directly out of the ankle, deviating neither to the left nor right, but the ankle is flexed such that the knee is just behind the tips of the toes.  One way to establish this distance is to stand with your toes touching a wall that has no baseboard and insert two fingers between the wall and your kneecap.  Practice relaxing the foot, shin and thigh into this position by gently holding a ping-pong ball against the wall with your knee, neither dropping nor crushing it.
The knee of the yang leg should be bent enough to support the length of your stance.  The longer the stance, the deeper the bend, the more the angle of the thigh-bone approaches the horizontal.  Bear in mind that too long a stance will encourage you to back weight.  The correct depth of your stance will change over time and even changes day-to-day depending on your personal energy level.
Imagine for a moment the upper portion of the yang (left) leg as a tube running from the knee to the hip.  As you sink into your stance, this tube rotates slightly counter-clockwise (as seen from the rear) to keep the yang hip from jutting out.  At the same time, the sacrum coils under and forward, becoming orthogonal to the ground and establishing a level platform for the torso to rest on.  It is helpful to visualize the flank and “sit-bones” as preparing to settle onto a chair.  Imagine the body to be “sitting” on the yang leg, rather than “standing” on the yang foot.
Common errors arising from failing to correctly coil the tailbone/sacrum under the torso include the introduction of hollows and protrusions (see Figure 2) to the basic structure of the stance, thus weakening the root, and twisting of the sacrum in the pelvic bone, which allows one hip to ride lower than the other and may exacerbate or create back pain.  Additionally, the soft organs of the belly often hang over the front edge of the pelvis, putting strain on the lumbar.  Finally, to compensate for the forward inclination of the spine, people often lift the head and chest, introducing strain in the mid back.  Overall, not a pleasant scenario.
In an improved stance, the spine springs naturally out of the sacrum, slightly straightened and stretched in the lumbar region (see Figure 3).  This is the consequence of the pelvic tilt often taught in physiotherapy aimed at healing and strengthening the lower back after traumatic injury.  Developing this skill here may help prevent injury and back pain in the future.
The chest is relaxed and hung from the chin. The sternum is not collapsed, not held aloft, but allowed to sink naturally toward the inner torso.  If you imagine the sternum and sacrum to be arrow heads, they are pointed toward the ground slightly behind and toward the inside corner of the yang heel.
The chin also relaxes and hangs from the top of the head.  The head-top brushes the clouds.  The shoulders relax and settle evenly on the hips.
At all times this upper portion: spine, chest, shoulders, chin, and head; should ride tranquilly and evenly on the platform provided by the pelvis and hips.  Avoid leaning, twisting or bending the upper body.
With very few exceptions (Shoulder, Bend Bow), all 70-30 postures utilize this stance, the only variation being in the placement of the hands and arms.

Consciousness Breathing with the Mind

The breath is like a whip.
It has its leading place and its led place
Its breathing place and its breathed place
Its pulling place and its pulled place
Its pushing place and its pushed place.
This is all about softening the breath,
Softening the edges of the breath,
Surging around the softened edges of the breath.
The breath is like a ribbon in the ribbon dance,
Breathing out, breathing out

Try this.  Arrange your body in a comfortable fashion.  You can do this seated, standing or lying down.  It doesn't matter.  Lying down might be a little bit dangerous, because you might fall asleep.  I find standing is comfortable, so I'll just stand.  But arrange your body comfortably and just rest for a moment.
Now, as you're resting here, observe your breathing.  How are you breathing?  Are you breathing in through your nose and out through your nose?  Are you breathing in through your mouth and out through your mouth?  Are you breathing in through your nose and out through your mouth?  How are you breathing?
Just observe it.  This is a very difficult skill to learn: breathing, observing breathing, and not interfering with breathing.  Very difficult skill, but, anyhow, try it out.  See if you can just breathe and observe how you breathe.
While you're doing this, you might want to notice whether you're breathing in the chest, in the abdomen, in the lower abdomen, or all the way down to tan t'ien.
Ideally, we want to be breathing in through the nose and out through the nose and all the way down to the lower abdominal area (the tan t’ien or ch'i hai).  So we want to allow the belly to move as we breathe.  As we inhale and exhale, it expands and contracts naturally, easily.  We want the inhale to be natural, the exhale to be natural, nothing straining in any direction.  Just allow the breath to come in and go out, to come in and go out.
If you can do so without interfering with the breathing, you might imagine on the inhale that there’s some kind of pressure building up in the abdominal area, in the lower abdominal area, in the chest.  In fact, there probably should be some sense of fullness or pressure as you inhale. 
And you might imagine that the belly and abdomen and chest can slacken and relax a little bit as the breath goes out.  In fact, there should be a kind of releasing on the exhale.  And you might try to feel the air as it passes in and out through the nostrils or mouth, up and down, inhale, exhale.
Just familiarize yourself with breathing: how you do it, how you feel with it, how it feels to just breathe with no interference and no particular “goal” in mind, no particular rhythm. 
Just as long as the breath is long, let it be that long. 
Just as short as the breath is short, let it be that short. 
Let the inhale be as full as it wants to be and the exhale to be as complete as it wants to be.  No assistance, no guidance to your breathing here at all.  Just inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale.
So do that until you have familiarized yourself with breathing, your own natural rhythm and strength and direction of breath.  No, don’t just think about it, don’t theorize it, don’t “understand” it, don’t “get it,” or “got it”— — go practice it. 
Don’t hurry.

I’ll wait.

Done?
Good.
Now, do a little experiment for me.  Cover your mouth and nose, not too tightly, but to some degree, cover your mouth and nose with your hand.  And now continue to breathe, inhale and exhale, and notice the feeling, the effort, it requires to inhale through the spaces, the, gaps between your fingers and your face.  Don’t squeeze them shut, but also don’t hold them wide open. 
Allow that covering to provide some restriction to the air.  Not enough so that you are starving yourself, of course, but enough so that you feel some effort for breathing, for inhaling.  If you have done some scuba diving or some snorkeling, then you understand that little “tug” on the breath.  It is just a little “tug,” not an interference, really, not a cutting off of the breath, but it requires some focus, some “attention,” if you will, to inhale and also a little attention to exhale . 
But let’s focus on the inhale for a minute and notice, “Oh, yeah, that’s right, I need to pay attention to inhale,” and let exhale take care of itself naturally.  We’re not going to force the breath out when we exhale, but just let it exhale and “seep” outwards by its own volition.  But the inhale requires some attention, some little effort.
Inhale, exhale, inhale exhale.
Experiment with that and get to know that, and feel the difference between the two inhale/exhale processes: the one earlier when there was no goal, no interference, nothing going on, just breathing and now, when we are interfering with the air flow a little bit and the minor concentration or effort that it requires to inhale, exhale.  Don’t let it be so much effort that it becomes tiring to breathe.
Ok.  So, take your hand down and just sit and breathe for a minute, relax, and let all that effort dissipate.
Let’s turn our attention.  Store that experience, that memory, for a minute and turn your attention to another part of the conversation.  I want to look at the “energetic body.”  In this model of the mindbody system, there are certain openings.  Some people may call them chakras.  These are certain areas that are more sensitive to ch’i, to life energy.  These are areas that are more conducive to gathering ch’i and, conversely to emitting or losing ch’i. 
Some of these are areas that we might think of as “openings” between the inner energetic body and the outer energetic universe.  Often we speak of five particular ones: the palms of the hands, the soles of the feet and the top of the head.  These five are places where we might focus our attention and imagine internal/external life energy to be able to aggregate, to have “access” to or from the body.  We might think of them as gateways, something of that nature.
So we might visualize these five as places where the inner body, the core energetic, can access the energy of the external body.
Go, now, go back to our experience of breathing through the muffled pathway.  That attention, that effort, that awareness, relocate that.  Move it into the palms of the hands. 
When you inhale on your breathing cycle, your normal, uninterrupted breathing cycle now, put the little extra attention that you were using to inhale through the muffled passages into the palms of the hands.  That inner drawing sensation is happening at the palm of the hand when you inhale. 
When you exhale, don’t worry about exhaling.  Don’t worry about pushing energy out.  Just let it seep and trickle as you did earlier.
On the inhale there’s an effort involved, a kind of drawing in that may be experienced at the palm of the hand.  And on the exhale there is just a trickling of energy going wherever it wants to go.  In other words, don’t “manage” the exhale; “manage” only the inhale. 
When you inhale, draw outer energetic body “stuff” in through the palms of the hands using the same sensory effort that you had when you were inhaling through muffled breath.  Don’t concern yourself with the actual body process of breathing because we discovered earlier that when we just inhale, exhale, it just happens. You don’t need to concern yourself.  Breathing happens.
The energy of the mind, the attention, is pointed at drawing in through the palms of the hands.  The body energy of breathing air is just not interfered with, just allowed to be.  I inhale, drawing inward at the palms of my hands.  On the exhale, I don’t concern myself; it just goes.
So go ahead and try this.  Again, arrange your body in a comfortable sort of way, but this time allow your palms to be clear.  Open the hands, open the palms to the air rather than closing your fists or putting them on your knees or any of that sort of thing.  Just make sure that in whatever comfortable arrangement you’ve made your palms are open to the air.  And we’re going to practice breathing.
That little extra effort we discovered a moment ago, that little extra concentration, draws in at the palms of the hands.  There’s a little inward suction at the palms of the hands, a little inward pressure. 
Just try this a bit.  Inhale.
And then let your breath go.  Let it go out, not to worry where it goes or how it goes.  Just let it go.
And inhale.  Feel a little drawing sensation  maybe at the tips of the fingers or along the sides of the fingers.  The best might be right in the exact center of the palm, in the little spot there, the spot we call lao gong.  You might allow lao gong to pulse a little bit inwards as you inhale.  Draw in against lao gong.  Feel this as the place where that little bit of concentration, that little bit of extra mind effort is focused.
You draw in.  And then, when you are full, comfortably full, just let it go.  And the breath goes out.
Inhale.  Exhale. 
That’s all you’re doing.  You’re just sitting here breathing, really. 
But every time you inhale, you imagine some filling happening at the palm of the hands, some drawing in here at the palm of the hands.
So the increasing pressure or volume in the belly is matched by this drawing sensation in the palms of the hands, in the fingers.
Maybe, if this becomes comfortable for you, you might expand and draw in at the back of the hands, at the sides of the hands.  So, when you inhale, the entire hand is drawing something.  Some feeling of suspension is drawing in through the whole hand.
Now the concentration that we discovered, that little extra attention we awakened, is distributed across the whole hand.  So we inhale and we draw energy in through the whole hand into the body and the energy fills us up.  The pressure, the expanding pressure that we feel in the belly area, the pressure of the air filling the belly and the chest and the lungs is accompanied by pressure coming in through the hands.  It sinks into the belly, fills the chest and lungs.  It fills into the arms and the shoulders, thrums into the legs and the toes and the feet, fills the head, eyes, and ears.
Every time you inhale, this little bit of pressure spreads itself out through the body.  This little extra attention spreads itself out through the body.
This is energy breathing… you breathing energy, energy breathing you.
Every inhalation draws this outer universal energy, ch’i, through the skin of the hands.  We make of the skin a semi-permeable membrane to allow this energy to be sucked in from the external energetic body.
Right now we’re not going to worry about how or if the energy goes away.  In fact, we don’t want it to go away.  We want it to fill the body completely.  So we’re going to imagine that the skin is one-way semi-permeable.
When you inhale, this good ch’i comes in.
When you exhale, you just exhale carbon dioxide and used air and all that kind of stuff.  We don’t worry about the ch’i going out because the ch’i doesn’t actually go “out.”  It stays in and fills the body.  You inhale and the body fills a little more.  And you exhale.  And you inhale and the body fills a little more and you exhale.
Every inhale is drawing this energy into the body through the semi-permeable membrane that is the surface of the skin on your hands.  Actually, you can move this semi-permeable area to any part of the body.  You can use your arms or your feet or the top of your head.  You can use the crest of your brow or the sides of the skull.  You can use the base of the skull where it balances on the tip of the spine.  The back across the shoulders.  You can use the lower back in the lumbar region.  You can use the heel at the base of the foot.
Ultimately, you want to make the entire body like a sponge that draws this stuff in.  When you inhale, the whole body resonates with this extra attention, this little drawing activity, this little influx of energy through this one-way semi-permeable membrane. 
And the body just gets full and full.  You can’t have too much.  If you do have too much, there’s no problem because it just spills out.  It comes out with your exhale, it comes out through your eyes and makes the world to be seen.  It goes out with your voice and fills the world with sound.  It goes out with your actions and is received by other people .  So it is not a thing that you can actually have too much… “no such thing as too much fun,” too much ch’i.  Yeah.  You know?
Inhale and allow every part of your body to draw this stuff in. Let it go.  Draw in.  Let it go.
Sometimes it might be useful to focus your semi-permeable breathing, your energy breathing, at some point.  And, again, specific useful points would be lao gong, bubbling well, the lumbar region of the spine, the top of the head.  The base of the skull.  You might draw directly into tan t’ien. 
Use your mind to conduct the ch’i directly into tan t’ien.  When you inhale, not only is there ch’i flowing in through your nostrils and through the trachea, down into the lungs and filling the body, percolating into the blood that way, but there is ch’i absorbing directly into tan t’ien.  When you inhale the ch’i can be directed to concentrate itself into tan t’ien. 
In fact, at some level you may want to try drawing the ch’i through all of these gateways and flowing it down into tan t’ien.  When you inhale, inhale directly through the hand, the head, the feet and fill tan t’ien from there.  Inhale directly into tan t’ien.  Inhale directly to the lower back, the ming men place.  All these places become sources of ch’i, sources that fill your own source, your own sink, with ch’i.  Ch’i floods into the body with every inhale.
Now, when you are doing your form, your t’ai chi form, you want to pay some attention to this energy breathing.  When you are doing your form you want to focus your breathing as you approach your postures. 
The inhale maximizes the energy concentration in the body.  As you move into your posture, you inhale.  As you inhale you can use the inhale to draw the body along collecting paths where, through the movements of the form, you have directed currents of ch’i the way the swimmers body establishes currents of water around itself as a signature and means of propulsion.
For instance, as you move from Stork Spreads Wings toward the Left Brush Knee posture, the right hand is like a great scoop.  As you turn on the right leg, the right hand strokes through the universal ch’i, first drawing it down from the heavens along the front of the body, then lifting it up from the earth along the back.  As you move forward, these currents around the body can be imagined to concentrate and pile up against the palm, draining down the fingers, wrist and forearm, then sinking to tan t’ien, helping clear the path for reversing polarity and issuing energy. 
This “reversing polarity” is a separate subject for consideration since it implies “exhale.”  So far, we have avoided the consideration of the exhale and have allowed it to take care of itself.  But exhale, too, may be focused, inward or outward.   The direction helps determine the purpose of the exhale.

Hence arises the problem of “responsibility.”  You become responsible for the energy you emit or loose on the world and its effect on those around you in the same way the cue is responsible for the dispositon of the balls on the pool table.  There is no difference.  It is “you” who guide both cue and breath.

This is true also of the inhale, which may be directed inward or outward.  Another quadrant that I leave for another day.

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