Showing posts with label health. Show all posts
Showing posts with label health. Show all posts

Sunday, March 23, 2014

Trying to understand taichi

A reader made a comment in my previous post about taichi/taiji chuan, asking how much of it is legit. I have to say I know extremely little about taichi to be qualified to answer fully. Historically, it is one of the Chinese martial arts styles. With the wish to spread the art to more people, some of the lineages started downplaying the martial arts aspects and started emphasizing developing the "chi" and the health aspects, and now the art is known as an activity for seniors and for non-fit people, or at least that was how I saw taichi before I started it :)

So the lineages of taichi are much easier to trace than yoga, since yoga was developed by a lot of lone swamis and cave yogis (the most systematized lineage would be from Sri. T. Krishnamacharya). Taichi started with the chen family, and then developed into several main styles: Chen style, Yang style, Wu (Hao) style, Wu style, Sun style, and combo styles. Some styles emphasized the martial arts (eg. Chen), some became more focused on the meditative and health aspects (eg. Wu style).

I thought it would be really complicated to research taichi, but I got what I was looking for after only a bit of googling. It's interesting that after typing in "Tai chi is" I get an autocomplete of "tai chi is bullshit". Here's an interview with a martial arts masters, who studied taiji chuan along with a ton of other Chinese martial art styles. From a martial arts aspect, I think studying taiji helps, but one needs to practice it a ton and drill the principles as well as the actual movements into one's body until one can perform those martial arts techniques with minimal thinking.

From a health aspect, what I get so far (from very few classes, mind you, so don't take my word as an expert's explanation) is that this long form of movements works many parts of the body, emphasizes the grounding of the body weight and changing of balance/center of gravity, moves the body in a way that maximizes chi flow (I still don't know exactly what chi is but I'm going to guess it has something to do with minimizing blockage in the body. My guess is that the forms place the body parts in ergonomic angles to optimize smooth flowing of air into the lungs, as well as for blood, lymphatic and other fluids to circulate more comprehensively, and perhaps even improve the nerve signaling in some way).

Here's one explanation of taichi, where the teacher found a focus on a muscle in the inner thigh which seems to trigger the whole body. Here's a list of 10 essentials of taiji chuan, which to me sounds like learning to relax, find your center of gravity, connect your upper and lower body to allow the delivery of synchronized signals from your pelvic region (power center) to the rest of the body to maximize power. I think most people move their bodies in an inefficient way. We are tense in the neck and shoulder region; we carry heavy stuff using our arms + lower back too much and not enough legs, pelvis, and the whole back. If some of our muscles are already partially contracted, it probably traps some waste materials from the cells, dead tissues, stagnant blood flow, etc. If we can learn to fully relax and then contract our muscles, we can improve fluid and cellular renewal in our bodies and also to improve muscle power generation. There are few other activities that emphasize so much on relaxation.

By comparison, yoga achieves relaxation through holding a pose for a relatively long period of time (5-20 breaths). When you contract your muscles for that long (most yang yoga poses require isotonic contraction of muscles), once you come out of the pose, your muscles inevitably relax, because they are exhausted :) Same goal achieved through different means.

There's undoubtedly more to taichi than what I've mentioned in this post. Please do not leave me angry comments saying how I explained it all wrong and how the chi is more than just bodily fluids. We yogis have a word for chi too -- it's called prana in Sanskrit. Yoga practice also has the purpose of increasing prana and improve its flow in the body. The purpose of this post is to try to demystify taichi. Whether or not the elusive "chi" exists, if the body is properly grounded, the joints and organs are in non-compromising positions, and the muscles relaxed (or not more tense than needed to hold the body upright), this is generally good for the body because it reduces unnecessary tension and improves circulation. For me, I just think the moves look cool and wanted to learn them. If you check out the wikipedia pages for the different taichi styles, you'll see the ages of various taichi masters. You'll notice that many of them didn't live that long (there are people who barely exercised and have lived longer). So I would say that taichi isn't something totally mystical. It does have its benefits (relaxation feels good). You should learn it because you just want to learn it, not because it gives you magical powers or will add 10 years to your life.

I sound like a horrible spokesperson. Nobody will ever ask me to sell anything for them now, LOL.


Thursday, November 10, 2011

Yoga conference part I - an unconventional path to healing

For a couple of weeks, I put myself in Personal Hell, chaining myself to a computer, sometimes getting a couple hours of productive work done; sometimes an entire day went by and I realized I've checked Facebook 50 times, checked my emails 100 times, read 30 yoga blogs/articles, with no new paragraphs added to my thesis. When it got near the deadline it all came down to "what's the minimum amount of work I absolutely need to do so I would not completely despise this piece of crap that I am putting my name down as an author?" Finally, got the piece of writing completed and handed in on Thursday evening (thank goodness for emails these days), and on Friday, headed to Happiness Land a.k.a. "Yoga Conference".

I must have done some incredible deeds in my previous reincarnation to have earned the Universe so conveniently arrange a yoga conference in my town right after my thesis deadline. First up, a day with Michael Stone. The moment I walked into the conference room, I saw him sitting so peacefully in front of the room, legs crossed, eyes closed, while unenlightened students like me rushed in, clumsily and noisily set their stuff down, realized they have forgotten some stuff, ran out of the room and back in again, slamming the door way too loudly both times, rolled out the mat so that it slapped the ground with a thump, disturbing all the other students trying to meditate, and finally settled in after ensuring everyone else's meditation attempts have been disrupted. The whole time, Michael did not even move an eyebrow hair. This made me feel like I was in good hands (while at the same time feeling like the biggest asshole in the room).

The workshop was about pranyama, but really the main message of the day was that bandhas are not something we engage and hold; they naturally happen if and when we breath properly. Mula bandha happens at the end of an exhale; uddiyana bandha can be felt as the diaphragm moves to let air in at an inhale or pushes air out in an exhale. So he tried to get us to feel our bandhas in sun salutations by inhaling our arms up, hold the breath, lift out of our spine, dive down 1/4 of the way, then exhale all the way to forward fold. I suppose uddiyana bandha happens at that 1/4 point. Then inhale half way lift, exhale fold, step back to chaturanga, inhale up dog, exhale down dog, yadda yadda, hold the down dog for 5 breaths, and then fully exhale all the air out before stepping the feet up to meet the hands.

Sounds like something Ashtangis can easily achieve right? Except I couldn't do it at all. I felt like I was going to suffocate if I tried to hold my breath for more than a few seconds at the end of the first inhale, and I couldn't fully exhale all the air out in down dog before breathing in again. Second exercise: supposedly it's easier to feel the bandhas when upside down. We're told to simply watch our belly go up and down evenly as we breath in and out while in halasana (different instruction than what my teacher normally teaches: to hold our belly so it doesn't pump up and down in this pose). So I tried to do it, and watched my navel with horror that I couldn't get my belly movement to coordinate with my breath. My ab muscles seem like nervous wrecks, sharply contracting and clumsily releasing, totally doing their own thing independently of my breath. Basically the entire morning served as to tell me that my nervous system was f*ed up. My breaths felt shaky the whole time; my muscles held tension that I couldn't consciously release; every breath retention generated anxiety.

Despite all this, I instinctually felt like I couldn't be in a more appropriate setting to heal myself.  In the afternoon, Michael spent some time talking about how the world is out of balance, how we need to wake up from our self-obsession mode, heal ourselves, and serve our family and friends who need a clear mind to help them out. It was a pretty generic type of talk that he always gives if you listen to his pod casts and interviews online, but having the opportunity to listening to him speak in person felt so healing. As if he could read my mind, he said, "sometimes we need to hear reminders like this every day". We did a couple more exercises, again serving the purpose to frustrate me with my inability to coordinate muscle contraction/movement with breath, but I think that with practice, I would be able to do these exercises in the future with better results. At this point I already felt a lot better than in the morning, with less jitter and less unease within me. He ended the workshop by leading us through a very simple inhale and exhale exercise, where the inhales eventually got much longer than the exhales. By the time he stopped counting. the shakes in my breaths were gone; the breaths and the heartbeats felt smooth and rhythmic, and the nervous system had completely calmed down. A most appropriate therapeutic session was complete. I sort of wanted to kick myself for not signing up for his other sessions the next couple of days but because I was in such a calm state, I wasn't in the mood to be so hard on myself as I normally would. A definite  sign the yoga was working!


Thursday, December 9, 2010

Definition of "healthy"

What exactly is the definition of being "healthy"? Everyone around me seems to care quite a bit about their health, but somehow I the sense that people also seem to obsess about some aspects of health over others.

Traditional Chinese culture tends to assume that everyone has a weak organ, usually either the liver or the kidneys, and needs nutritional + herbal supplements to strengthen these organs.  Some people will go as far as not bothering with exercising or watching their diet, and attempt to cultivate health entirely from Chinese medicine and health food supplements, sometimes to the point of overloading the liver and kidney.

On the other extreme, some people equate the term "health" with "fitness level". To be healthy means being the fittest person one can be.  Some people erroneously think that by running ultramarathons, winning Ironman triathlon and/or Strongman competitions, their superhuman fitness will make them invincible to all diseases. It does seem like some people's bodies are built to be able to comfortably run insanely long distances or lift super heavy weights, but I hope these people realize that what they achieve are celebrations of human performance capability, rather than a pursuit of ultimate health.  Sometimes people overestimate the body's ability to regenerate.  When we're younger (20s and younger), our body can handle a lot of abuse and we seem to be able to recover in no time. But we can learn from observing retired Olympic athletes that they seem to age faster than people who exercise in moderation.  It seems like they have used up their youth prematurely in achieving those superhuman feats during competitions and training.

Now let's take a look at yoga.  The general impression of yoga is that it is a relatively mild form of activity that will exercise the body, increase flexibility, and lowers stress levels.  This makes it especially popular for people who dislikes gyms and not very sporty.  It also makes ultra-athletic and competitive people look down on yoga.  Now the extremeness of yoga comes when people see the advanced yoga poses that requires extreme flexibilities, for example the feet behind the head poses, or the crazy backbends (kapotasana or Tirieng Mukha Uttanasana.. ouch!!!).  Just looking at these pictures can make people feel pain (especially for people who are particularly not that flexible).  I was fortunately born quite flexible and could touch my toes to my head when I was 5 years old (though I lost that ability as I grew older).  I have avoided yoga for the longest time because I felt these poses acted to showcase these yogi's contortionist capabilities and were not a sign of health.   My belief for health has been "everything in moderation".

Now that I'm completely hooked on Ashtanga, and worship the ground my teacher walks on, seems like my belief system is slowly morphing.  In the beginning I was careful to take things easy and not push the poses to the extreme, but my teacher has been quite enthusiastic in helping me into a lot of the poses while taking care not to use too much force on me.   So now that my knees have stopped aching when doing Ardha Baddha Padma Paschimotanasana (I was quite concerned for awhile there) and my feet can come off the floor in supta kurmasana (uh, off the ground but not over my head, yet),  it just seems like every pose will be possible with enough practice (at least it feels this way in my first year of Ashtanga practice. We'll see when I hit a bottleneck). Soooooo, am I working towards the extreme poses for my ego, like the marathon runner going for that extra mile, or the strongman looking to break his personal weightlifting record?  Is the Ashtanaga practice actually healthy for me, phyically?

I am certain that mentally it's doing me wonders.  When I started coming to yoga, my teacher told me that I looked like I carried a lot of tension. I didn't talk to anyone for months. I went for the corner spot of the room every class and pretended I was invisible.  Now I actually smile at people who look my way instead of averting anyone who makes eye contact with me.  Every practice makes me happy, no matter how exhausted I may feel when the class is over.  I don't really understand why I need to twist and fold myself into a human origami in order to nurse my mental health back to life.  I suppose yoga is not the only way to cultivate, but the yoga community happens to be the most supportive community I have encountered yet in my life.  I'm guess that it's the shared sensations and experiences in the journey of Ashtanga that brings people close together (Teacher: I know exactly how you feel; my ankle would hurt too if I didn't flex them during Mari B, D, and padmasana).

To bring it back to my question in the beginning: while Ashtanga is a very physically demanding practice, especially in terms of pushing one's limits in flexibility,  I appear to be pursuing this path more for the sake of my mental health more than physical health.  I happen to be the type of person who requires something this extreme to save my mind, a mind with a tendency to over-worry, over-analyze and over-criticize.  Actually I have available to me opportunities to pursue alternative activities that are more physically demanding than Ashtanga,  in terms of strength, power, agility and coordination.  By choosing Ashtanga, I am actively choosing to not strive to be the fittest person I can be physically, and instead go down this path of deepening my mind-body connection.  Who knows where this path will take me?