In order to learn Qigong and Chinese martial arts, and this is probably true for all movement-related studies, we need to sharpen our skills of ‘Observation’, ‘Listening’ (needed to properly follow instruction given), ‘Thinking’ (or analyzing to comprehend and make sense of the information) and ‘Feeling’ (sensing), to adequately experience internal skill and express it fully. (In most cases, we also need to learn how to be a student, but that is an entire subject for another Lesson). When it comes to learning movement, we all find different methods that work better for us, and we all have our strengths and weaknesses. Some can absorb from a purely visceral means, while others require or demand a more intellectual approach. Some respond well to being drilled, like at military academy, while others prefer the freedom to play and experiment. We need to experience all of these ways, and must overcome our obstacles to them.
East and West have entirely different approaches to studying (and also to teaching). In the West, it is more common to question, and require answers to precisely what we are being instructed to do, and why we are doing it, at every step of the way. We need to make sense of the material presented to us. This seems perfectly reasonable. However, in China, the traditional approach for the student is not to question at all, initially, and instead, simply follow by copying the teacher several times, and then repeat, repeat, and repeat solo. My good friend studied under a respected old-school Chinese master. As a lawyer, he had an inquisitive mind and an interrogative nature, but any time he would ask questions while the master was teaching, he would be told sternly, “You! Be Monkey!” Repeating enough times means we come to remember, through ‘muscle memory’, able to perform without conscious effort, so it becomes hard to unlearn, or forget how to do, once it becomes totally ‘natural’. At this point, it is more important to remember than to understand, and in certain cases the experience of practice can actually provide the answers. Few know that many traditional Chinese teachers would show the new student new material just three times, and three times only (!), with no depth of detail given initially. If the student managed to pick up what was being shown, great! If not, he would need to return the following day (or the next class), only to be shown threes times again. This meant it was the student’s responsibility to get it right, not the teacher’s, and the student really needed to give the study his full attention! The latter day teacher would not waste his time and energies on a new student that either simply could not pick up movement (not everyone can!) or would not apply himself fully (some have abundance of ability, and natural talent, but lack all mental discipline or focus). Once the student has picked up the ‘shape’ or rather the rough, external movement, of the form, through practice, the teacher may then go deeper into the principles and details, the theory, and address such questions, and then on to more advanced levels. In the West, today, students are generally luckier, as teachers tend to be more generous with time, more patient, more gentle, more encouraging and nurturing, and students do not need to prove their aptitude and dedication (and loyalty) first. For this we should be grateful, but not take for granted.
The most fundamental step in learning is observation, or ‘Watching’. Having stated that, a training brother of mine in UK is registered blind, yet still possesses good skills by paying special attention to his tactile senses. So, his ‘sight’ is mental mapping through touching and feeling the postures of his teacher and those assisting him. Many sighted students have the full benefit of their eyes, but still fail to see what is right in front of them (!), in the same way some have perfect hearing, but fail to ever really listen. Without care and full attention, the student will not receive the bountiful (non verbal) information, or messages transmitted by the teacher. Anyone can attend classes, and learn forms, but not everyone will understand how to perform them with correct technique and acquire good skill! I have seen my Sifu perform the very same forms, or sets of movements, countless times, over decades, yet every time he demonstrates I will always watch keenly, at every single opportunity, because I always manage to see something I had not noticed before. This is due to two chief reasons. Firstly, when we learn a new skill, it is absolutely impossible to absorb every detail about it instantaneously. The brain can only absorb a certain amount of information at any one time. Consider your favorite movie, and how many times you have seen it in order to appreciate all of the different facets that make it your favorite movie. Upon the first viewing you could only follow the narrative and action onscreen. There was not enough time to fully appreciate the editing or cinematography, or the music or the subtleties of the acting and directing. Each subsequent viewing brings a deeper appreciation. The skill, likewise, becomes deeper with every practice, so with consistency, every year of practice, brings change and that change should mean improvement. Catching the overall shape is like viewing a large-scale painting hanging in a gallery. First, we tend to stand back to see the entire creation from a distance. We don’t immediately walk right up to it, our noses an inch from the canvas, and scrutinize the brush strokes, stippling techniques etc. We take it all in initially, and gradually work in closer to notice little embellishments and flourishes that could not be seen from further back, to understand and appreciate the skill and technique behind the work. It is the same with the Qigong and martial art skill: once the shape has been acquired then we gradually focus in to scrutinize the details, as though through a microscope. Fussing over the details instead of practicing hard to acquire the shape (i.e. remembering the sequence) can lead to a fragmented understanding that can easily dissolve into nothingness. Consider in any given week, from attending class one or two hours per week, how much time we really get to spend observing and listening to the teacher solely. It really does not amount to all that much, but that is fine as long as we make the most of every second of this time and not squander the opportunity. Then, the practice we do on our own time will become that much clearer. Also, consider the teacher may have a ten or twenty year head start on us, for example. His form will still change and improve (becoming ever clearer) over time, too, so it is useful to keep up and observe these subtle changes closely, and adopt them, in order to remain on the right path.
Some students stop improving once they assume (prematurely) that they ‘own’ the skill, and (assuming that the teacher’s demonstrations are for the juniors’ benefit solely) stop observing their teacher as intently. Therefore, it is really vital to maintain ‘Beginner’s Eyes’ always, otherwise we may continue to miss details that were always there, right in front of our eyes. When the teacher demonstrates repeatedly for the students, he is showing the ‘essence’ or energy of the movement, which is the one thing that cannot ever be taught! It can only be shown, by example, and must be experienced by the receiver, and hopefully recreated and developed during practice. Laozi (Lao Tsu) stated that the highest form of teaching is “Teaching without Words”. Failing to acquire this indefinable energy through non-verbal teaching means there will always be ‘something’ missing within the practitioner and missing if he passes skill to the next generation. Some students are so impatient to get going in class, like racehorses out of the gate, that despite being instructed to “Watch”, when the teacher demonstrates (for their benefit), they immediately begin to imitate, instead of waiting until the teacher has finished. In reality, we cannot observe and perform at the same time (it has been scientifically proven that ‘multi-tasking’ is an illusion!), and I have witnessed, both as teacher and student, those that attempt this, almost certainly, and incredulously, end up doing the complete opposite from what the teacher is showing the class, all the while standing right in front of him (!), and blissfully unaware of themselves. So, there is a time for ‘Watching’, and a time for ‘Doing’.
The second vital skill in learning is ‘Listening’. A good teacher will give clear, detailed, yet and easy-to-follow, step-by-step instructions. The better the instruction, the greater chance that the student can eventually develop good skill and standard, as long as he can follow the instruction given and is prepared to work hard. I adopt the same teaching method my Sifu taught me, which is to repeat the steps along with repeated verbal instruction, that is simple and almost hypnotic. When learning new forms, as a student, I always make sure to repeat his words silently to myself, like a mantra. That way, when I go through the form, I am reinforcing and helping myself memorize those instructions, as well as helping to create a mental checklist, to ensure I am doing exactly as instructed, instead of just copying the visual movement alone, as the eyes can deceive us. I recommend following the repeating method, as it is a very effective learning tool. Precious breath is wasted when the student fails to adequately listen. In this case, all he really hears is a muffled sound, equivalent to the “Mwa Mwa Mwa” of Charlie Brown’s teacher. Then, once the lesson is over, and it is the student’s moment to demonstrate what he has learned, invariably he will either completely forget what has been shown, or else will perform the movement quite differently than shown. So, the repeating method saves everyone (student and teacher) time too, and avoids having to review the material more times than necessary. Minds can wander from time to time; it is only natural, but, from my experience, it would be fair to say, those students that actively seek out a teacher and make sacrifices to learn, tend to pay greater attention, on average, than those for whom learning is free or cheap, and easy, and that make no such sacrifices, such as those studying through a grant, or employee benefit through corporate wellness program, or as members of a health club. (In truth, the very best skills are never available to learn for free!)
While ‘Watching’ and ‘Listening’ require external phenomena (the presence of the teacher), ‘Thinking’ and ‘Feeling’ form the internal process, or what we do afterwards with the material acquired from the lesson, and need to be developed more on our own time. Thinking requires consideration, being mindful of the principles, and analyzing, to make sense of the material. We need to absorb, process and assimilate what we have ingested. I have been asked, on occasion, “What is the youngest age one can begin learning Qigong?” This question also applies to the other end of the spectrum – what is the oldest age one can begin learning? The answer is the same for either. It depends entirely on the individual’s aptitude, and his ability to comprehend. Because Qigong is an internal skill and affects the Qi and subtle body, if the simplest movement concepts and theory cannot be fully comprehended, then regrettably, the individual should probably desist from practicing certain exercises any further. This is not to be unkind, but performing Qigong and martial arts incorrectly can have negative side-effects, and can end up causing actual harm to the practitioner. Thinking, or analyzing, includes ‘Observation’ applied within. We must check and verify, and we must be self-critical, to correct ourselves, never presuming what we are doing is right and we are good enough, especially in the early stages, without adequate foundation and ‘polishing’. In the learning process, we have ‘what we should be doing’, ‘what we think we are doing’, and, then we have ‘what we are actually doing’. Quite often, these can end up being three entirely different realities! And, therein lies the problem. Correct skills means what we ‘think’ we are doing is, in fact, the same are what we are ‘actually’ doing, and what we are ‘actually’ doing is synonymous with what we ‘should’ be doing.
The final skill that needs to be developed is ‘Feeling’ – being acutely aware of our physical bodies, of the subtle internal energy throughout and within our bodies. This requires a degree of relaxation, and the ability to ‘let go’ and to connect intention and movement with the breath. The more tightly wound, the more rigid the mind, and the more stiff and tense the body, and the more irregular the breathing, the harder it becomes to actually feel the subtleties of posture and how the movement affects our Qi, and the more we actually block our Qi, which is contrary to the objective. Those that can feel will report significant change in awareness and ease of their bodies, and change in the sense of ‘Spirit’, or wellbeing, and experience certain internal phenomena, often even after their very first class. Those that cannot really feel may state feeling energized and relaxed, but cannot feel or express anything deeper than this, after many years. I believe the true joy to be obtained from practice lies in the feeling we receive from our practice. The more we feel (both the subtle energy and the more obvious sense of vitality) the deeper and more profound our experience becomes with time. This feeling becomes quite addictive, and in seeking this good feeling, we are inspired to practice more, and this is what carries us on wings to reaching higher levels and come to a good standard. Students incapable of feeling may still practice faithfully, as they know the skill is good for them and will keep them healthy, or will help heal or relieve a certain condition, but they really only end up ‘going through the motions’, and tend to treat practice like a chore, something that they need to do, instead of genuinely wanting to, and looking forward to their training. Without ‘Feeling’ they may never truly connect with the skill on any deep, meaningful level, even though they will still achieve some benefit, but the movement that needs to become ‘internal’ tends to remain more superficial and ‘external’.
Once we can actually feel what we are doing, we can come to know when the movement is right and beneficial, and also when it is wrong and can be harmful. For beginners, lacking the ability to feel, one day the skill may be right (yet they do not even know it) and the next day it can be wrong (and they still cannot tell the difference from the previous day). Only through ‘Feeling’ can we come to know the skill inside out, literally. Through ‘Feeling’, we come to know ourselves – our bodies and our minds. No-one should know us better than we should know ourselves! A mechanic may know our car better than us, but there is no excuse for a doctor (should we happen to have need of one) to know our own bodies better than us. Self-knowledge, after all, is one of the principal goals of all Chinese internal health and martial art skills. Watching, Listening, Thinking and Feeling are not only integral to developing our skill to the fullest, but also aid in sharpening our conscious mind. A mind that is dulled, unchallenged and left to waste, is basically like going through life in a somnambulistic state, a ‘Sleepwalker’, but developing these senses enhances and heightens the actual experience of life itself.
– Adam Wallace