At class on the morning of the 9th, Teacher Xu showed me an article he found in a magazine about me. It took me a moment to realize it was one done last year that had only just been published recently. Of course, it included the usual embarrassing photographs.

I was rusty after so long between practices. I practiced with a new guy who kept falling down, making me use less and less effort. I wasn’t pushing him down, however. He just kept losing his balance. I went through some sword form, and then practiced with the UPS guy. It’s hard to push him as he doesn’t seem connected and is able to effectively isolate parts of his body. Pushing with him usually comes down to a simple matter of who has the furthest reach, and it’s a tie as he’s the same height as I am.

The veranda where we practice was permeated that morning by the smell of an ointment one of the older students had bought for aching muscles. Little Qin took a look and sniffed, “You got that on the street? I wouldn’t trust it.”

And that was Saturday. I got another cold, incredibly, and didn’t go to class again until last Wednesday, the 26th. It was just after the election, but nobody was talking politics. I was very tired and out of shape, and I’m afraid I used a little too much force. But not as much as another new guy, whose opponents seemed to be flying this way and that, especially Mr. V, who tends to do that anyway. Teacher Xu told me that the young fellow was actually a competitive pushhands athlete, so his ideas were rather different than ours. He introduced me to him, said, “Why don’t you two have a go?” and left.

Well.

I did manage to avoid being tossed around like the others. I had to keep my wits about me, to be sure. I didn’t dare directly attack, but instead relied on pushing him off balance when he was applying force, which he was doing more or less constantly. For the most part it was a tie, but also a contest to see who could lose track of real pushhands the most, and I think we both did a good job in that respect. He tired me out, though, in the end. I’m not sure if either of us learned anything from the experience, but at least I got a good workout out of it.

Whoo, it’s been a long time since I practiced. I was sick before the Chinese New Year break, and then I was in Japan for a couple of weeks, and then I was sick again. But tonight I finally went back. “We thought you’d disappeared,” Teacher Xu said when he arrived. Mr. You was also there, but just said hi before he had to leave to take care of his elderly mother, which is apparently why he hasn’t been practicing much lately.

Teacher Xu and I talked politics for a while, discussing the upcoming presidential election. He, like many pan-greens, was laboring under the illusion that US green cards have to be actively renounced with paperwork, and actually thought Ma Ying-jeou still has a valid green card, at least until I informed him about the true situation. But I’m not going to talk politics.

I started pushing with Mr. Hu, which was a good way to get back into practice because he’s generally pretty easy to practice with. I’m out of shape, though, I could tell as I got tired pretty quickly. I then started pushing with Mr. Guo, whose stance and attitude seemed peculiar to me. He was doing the whole “I’ll push you here with one hand and it’s obvious I could push you over if I wanted, but I’d like to see you get out of it” thing for some reason. I think while I was away he got the idea that he was really good at tuishou or something. But his technique still consisted of quick, sharp shoves with very little subtlety.

Next Teacher Xu told us some things. “Don’t push your opponent,” he said. “Sometimes one of your hands is pushing the other; other times you’re pushing the space behind your opponent.”

“So maybe I could visualize creating a vacuum behind my opponent?” I asked.

“Uh, maybe,” he said. I tried it a couple of time with Weeble, but didn’t get anywhere. Teacher Xu tells us a lot of things I have a hard time implementing; even if I intellectually understand the idea, often I can’t get it to sink in deep enough to work. I need to practice more, I suppose.

Next up Yang Qing-feng. I was doing alright with him; one time he did a grab on my wrist. “That’s like a police move,” I said, as he is a policeman.

“No,” he said. “This is a police move,” and before I knew it I was on my knees saying, “Ow ow ow ow” as he twisted my arm and wrist. He apologized afterwards.

After Teacher Xu left (his son’s gone to perform alternative service for a year), Qing-feng tried to get Mr. Guo and Weeble to tell him if his pushing was correct. I found this most bizarre, as Qing-feng’s not only been practicing far longer than they have, but he’s much better. But I suppose it’s a good attitude to keep learning from everyone, no matter their level. Mr. Guo really got into the teacher role a bit too much, however. Not that it makes any difference to me.

And thus my slow progress continues.

Yang Qing-feng was practicing his sword form without his sword, which I found interesting to watch. I might try doing that sometime, to see if I can project my energy without the blade actually being there. It gave me some ideas, anyway.

Teacher Xu had to grab some people and tell them to practice with me. First up was Weeble, who is still resorting to the quick shove strategy. I really need to figure out a way to react better to that. He also tried some quick pulls, but I nearly balled him almost every time, so he gave that up. “Step away from me when you do that!” he told me. After that I tried pushing with a rather new guy, and got to practice my backstance for a long time, which became rather tiring.

I missed practice on Saturday due to a late gig on Friday night combined with the fact that I had to go vote in the legislative elections.

It’s been a long time between posts. I’ve been missing some classes due to various reasons lately, but I’ve still been trying to attend. I’ll try to sum up:

On the 19th, Teacher Xu was emphasizing how a connected opponent, meaning all of his components linked to each other, was easy to push, while someone who knew how to isolate the components of his body and energy, is generally harder to push. While watching him move, I wonder, as always, how he manages to keep potential energy so long before unleashing it on his opponent. It almost seems to defy the laws of motion. He’ll take a step and hold his inertia somehow for a moment and then all of the sudden it’s there again. Either that or I’m missing something. One thing you won’t see with Teacher Xu is him extending his arms; all of his energy seems to come from all of him, not his arms. That day I practiced with Not From China Guy, but it was mostly quick shoves.

On the 22nd, Little Qin was complaining about Tuishou competitions and the judges there when I arrived at CKS Hall. Teacher Xu reminded me to keep my head in line with my torso when doing forms, and expounded his “yuan kong wei” premise, i.e. “original position” vs. “relative position” in movement. He says this is something the other schools don’t really teach so much. I find it quite helpful, personally.

This last Saturday we all took Teacher Xu for dinner at the fancy restaurant under the National Opera House. Pretty much everyone was there, and it was a good time. Afterwards we took group pictures in the square, and then after everyone else had left a few of us went back up to the balcony of the concert hall to get some practice in. I went through the forms, not doing too much as I was still sore from an overly aggressive massage last Wednesday night, while the others filmed each other doing moving-step tuishou. Little Qin set up a little ring, not unlike a sumo ring, for them to see if they could push each other out of bounds.

CKS Hall was mostly back to normal after the ruling DPP changed the inscription on the massive gates last week after barricading them behind barbed wire to keep protesters away. I wasn’t able to come last week due to a couple of Jiayi gigs with my band in any case. A Christmas rock music concert was thumping from the center of the square, but fortunately nobody was crowding our group on the balcony.

I did forms for a while and got some instruction for backwards stepping from Teacher Xu. I’d been having some problems stepping back with my left foot as it seemed to put too much pressure on that knee for some reason, but it turns out that I wasn’t twisting in the right places, and the places I did twist, I “connected” too much. I have that problem in general with tuishou as well.

Little Qin arrived and did the sword form with a wooden stick. Afterwards we did some tuishou, which was instructive. Little Qin tends to grab wrists and lock them in place, but unlike the Tree Root Master, he doesn’t react violently when you try to push him, instead either relaxing and melting away from the push, or simply not reacting, secure in the futility of pushes from a certain angle.

He also gave me some advice for sword, echoing Teacher Xu’s earlier instruction to project one’s focus and energy along the blade. But Little Qin also added this: “Project your awareness to a point just beyond the tip of the blade,” he said, telling me to practice this by poking at things with the sword or whatever I happened to have on me at the time. “It’s like tossing stones.” The reason for this was, he said, that when we’re are in an actual confrontation, we tend to withdraw our awareness a little, so in that case our focus will be at the right place. The same goes for empty-handed movements, he added.

Late again to practice, but everyone was already paired up, so I went through my forms while they practiced tuishou. Chatted with Teacher Xu for a while, then paired up with Weeble, who was very talkative, not unlike Mr. You. He said he missed the Tree Root Master. “He is very solid, very hard,” he said admiringly. Weeble went for the quick, fast shove occasionally, and I managed to refrain from that myself. Still need to work on dealing with that better.

After class, did some sword practice and went home. That’s it. I’m afraid this isn’t a very interesting entry. No breakthroughs or revelations, just more practice. Perhaps I should wait for something to happen before I write in here instead of writing after every practice or two, lest it get too boring. Or maybe I just need to work harder.

I was at a movie premiere last Wednesday, and slept too late on Saturday, so yesterday was my first practice in a while, and I was even late for that. I was still tired; my knees have been aching lately for some reason. I did some stretching and then practiced with the interior designer, who has become quite pliant but still resorts to The Big Shove strategy a bit too often. I let him shove away, sometimes stepping back so we could get back to more subtle tuishou. For my part, whenever I felt that I was resorting to brute force, I’d reign myself in. “What’s wrong,” my partner asked. “Why don’t you follow through?” I didn’t answer, mostly because I can’t really explain it, and I didn’t want to implicate him in any anti-Big Shove rhetoric I might let slip.

After everyone had left, I stayed behind to go through my forms, which were terrible. I felt stiff and sore, but doing the forms half a dozen times improved things, at least to the point I felt I could finish my practice with a free conscience.

Wednesday: I started out practicing with the older new guy, who is a bit more aggressive than he used to be, but he’s improved a bit. Either that or I was having an off day. It happens. Sometimes I am very easily pushed, for some reason. Usually it means I’m thinking too much and am not relaxing enough. The ONG said he found it hard to push me, though. “Yang Qing-feng can push me almost every time,” I said. Qing-feng was there, so I switched to practicing with him instead. Practicing with him is like pushing smoke; I have to sort of waft around and be extra careful not to get caught in his well-laid traps.

The next partner was moving quickly, almost frantically. He would launch a surprise attack and push me over, time and again. Finally I got tired of it and pulled one on him, but he scolded me, saying, “You know, that’s not tuishou. That’s cheating!”

“I know, I’m very aware of it, actually,” I said, looking right at him. Of course he didn’t like what I was implying, and that was that. I started practicing with the Guy Who Is Not From Hong Kong, who was extremely rigid, practically the mirror image of the Tree Root Master, who wasn’t there. In fact, I hadn’t seen him around in a while. Not From HK was trying to teach the ONG as we practiced, which explained some of the latter’s changes in style. That night’s pushing was a bit rough; I found bruises on my arms after I got home that night.

Later, I was talking with Teacher Xu, who said the Tree Root Master and Mr. You weren’t going to be attending class for a while, but he didn’t get into just why. I asked him about matching an opponent’s speed and how to not get caught up in the rush. He picked up a leaf and flicked it with his finger. “The leaf isn’t doing anything, it’s just being flicked around. Like that,” he said.

After practice I was sitting on the curb while Weeble and Qing-feng practiced. Everyone else had left. I heard a rustle in the grass behind me, and something hit my back. Weeble laughed. “That rat ran right smack into you!” he said. I looked around, but the rat, or whatever it was, was gone.

Saturday: The cheerleaders were practicing their routines on the balcony again, not leaving much room for forms. I practiced with Mr. Hu at the edge of our territory as the teenagers moved in. Periodically, whenever they tried to gain ground, I would throw Mr. Hu at them. Eventually they got the message and backed off, leaving us enough space to practice.

Teacher Xu told me that I was moving my feet too much. “Don’t involve your feet in your strategy so much, ” he said. “Turn your waist, not your feet.” He also said that tuishou is not so much about forcing your partner to move a certain way as much as taking what they’re already doing and using it, either by slightly modifying it or even exaggerating it, to your advantage.

After everyone else had gone, I practiced with the UPS Guy for a bit. After he left, I went through my sword form a few times, and a couple of the teenagers came over to talk to me. “How long have you been here?” they asked. I said since about 10am. “No, in Taiwan,” they said. Of course I knew that was what I meant. Instead of answering, I asked them their ages. After they told me, I said, “A bit longer than you.” I’ve found that to be a real conversation-killer. But that’s a topic for another blog.

Last Saturday some kind of children’s dancing festival/competition was being held at CKS Hall, so our space was periodically invaded by bunches of similarly dressed children who would line up and dance around for a minute, then leave. So, no space for forms. All that was left was pushing. I practiced with Not from China Guy. I figure that, while dealing with him, eliciting a flurry of violent activity is good enough, a signal that I must be doing something right in provoking such a response. Beyond that, things start to get dangerous, so I usually retreat. Though I know that the ideal is to use as little force as possible, I still want to learn how to use what little force I can summon more effectively. It seems to be mostly in one’s attitude, focus and intent.

One Wednesday, I spent most of the time standing around watching other students practice. I did get a bit of a workout towards the end, which was good. Teacher Xu told me that I should try not to let different styles fluster me. I’m guessing he means the more aggressive styles I find it hard to deal with, in that my negative reaction just makes it harder for me to deal with them, resulting in a cyclical deterioration in my performance.

I’m also wondering just how much of this account is read by the other students, and if they are reluctant to practice with me because they don’t want to end up being talked about here. Maybe it would ease their minds if I told them hardly anyone reads this site.

“Your left and right hands should cooperate in your strategy,” Teacher Xu told us on Saturday morning at CKS Hall. I’d missed the previous week due to having to be in a parade featuring a naked man on a truck. “While one is opening the door on one side, the other should be closing the door on the other.”

I’d run into Mr. V in the subway on the way to class that morning, which took place in our old practice space, which was vacated by the black-shirted kung-fu group for some reason. I should note that Mr. V isn’t really that Violent; there are many students, especially the newer guys, who are much more egregious than he is. Still, he hasn’t expressed a desire to practice with me since that time when he was pushing with one hand.

Actually, Teacher Xu says that we should abolish the word “push” from tuishou, because it’s detrimental to the real practice of give-and-take actions and intent that is Tuishou. I agree, in that I can’t bring myself to push on command. I tend to concentrate more on being fluid and only “attack” when I see an opportunity that I just can’t pass up and sticks around long enough for me to recognize it, as I’m a little slow. Oftentimes my partner will tell me to attack them, but I find that if my intent is to attack I do much worse.

While watching other students push, I paid particular attention to their feet. I noticed that the newer students’ feet rolled around and left the ground a lot, while the more experienced students’ feet stayed more or less flat. Then I noticed that Teacher Xu’s feet rolled and lifted as he pushed, but the difference was that his feet seemed to be making those motions at his command, rather than in reaction to being pushed as seemed to be the case with the newer students. I suppose it’s a phase-by-phase thing. Later, practicing with Mr. Hu, I found that concentrating on his feet would occasionally call attention to an opportunity I would otherwise have missed. But I still found that by relaxing and using circular re-direction of his force helped a lot more. It was very instructive, as he’s a lot more forceful now than he used to be, and if I directly countered him I’d end up losing or “winning wrong” i.e. relying on brute force instead of relaxing and manipulating his energy. Also, people tend to expect resistance, and when they don’t meet it, they get confused and don’t know what to do. It throws them off.

One of the violent new guys was trying to throw the UPS guy around the balcony, resulting in a lot of thudding and tumbling. Little Mountain Pig was teaching while his wife minded their small son and daughter, who were crawling around their dual-seat stroller. No sign of Little Qin. In the middle of the square, a group of enthusiastic foreigners kicked and played tag, counting up as far as “three” in Chinese.