The Context of Tàijíquán Practice

Introduction

Tàijíquán and Xíngyìquán likely date from the late 16th or early 17th century, while Bāguàzhǎng is of more recent vintage, having been developed in the second half of the 19th century. The three arts share common characteristics and theories of movement derived from Taoism that seem to be compatible with one another and are also different to many other classical approaches of martial arts. This is especially strong in the case of Tàijíquán.

There is no Tàijíquán without Taoism. People who approach the art piecemeal, attempting to get benefit from parts of its teachings, may improve other martial arts they practice, but without the underpinning of Taoist philosophy, are not practicing Tàijíquán but instead specializing in a specific form of body cultivation that is related to Tàijíquán.

In studying Tàijíquán, one can differentiate between answering three different questions. First, what is is Tàijí as a martial art? Then, why should one use Tàijí methods in martial arts practice? Finally, how is it that one does so?

The first question (what) speaks to describing the art and answering whether you are actually do doing it. The second question (why) speaks to whether or not the art will work, based on its approach. The third question (how) is about actually using Tàijí ideas in personal combat.

Generally in martial arts practice a person’s level of ability is determined by their athletic potential, sometimes referred to as prenatal jing – what you have the potential to accomplish, specifically developed skills (most martial arts are focused on skills, given the body development present) and their amount of direct combat experience. Given similar training and experience, the stronger and faster practitioner will usually win. But how far can you take your own body development? How much should you focus on your innate potential as a prime differentiator?

Can we instead find a new way to improve ability that is not dependent on the body alone? Can we use refined skill instead and shift the balance or emphasis from body potential and development back to skill development?

In Taiji, ideas from Taoism influenced the answer to this question, in the affirmative, using the idea of soft/small in contrast to big/hard. This is in contrast to Confucian ideals developed by Kǒngzǐ [孔子] and his successors, where hard work, direct effort, and aggression are valued.

One needs to be strong to have ability in martial arts, but how can we at the same time minimize the amount of force we need to succeed? How can we reduce force and still be effective? Does this then let us, when we need to use a large amount of force, defeat someone who may have greater innate potential?

Ultimately, to chase the idea of physical strength development to an extreme is not Tàijíquán. Tàijí groups may add hard Qìgōng to their practice, to address strength development, but that should not be the primary focus of Tàijíquán as a martial art.

The historical art called Nèijiāquán was a specific martial arts style that died out. Wiles has a book detailing some of its aspects from the written record. Today, Bāguàzhǎng, Xíngyìquán, and Tàijíquán are generally regarded as internal martial arts styles, as they emphasize Taoism and internal training in their practice.

Many groups do Qìgōng [氣功] practice to complement their skill development, but internal groups use Taoist Nèigōng [内功] practices directly as a key part of both their body training and the development of their fighting ability. In internal martial arts, we use the Qì [氣] idea to directly increase both our skill and power.

Internal martial arts are hard to learn and understand. Skill is not based on natural ability alone, in contrast to external martial arts. In external martial arts, your skill level is generally limited by your body condition. In internal martial arts, we try not to struggle directly against an opponent, but instead follow their force and find opportunity. Internal martial arts practice thus reduces but does not eliminate the dependency on physical condition. To do this, a person’s skill level needs to be advanced, and today, despite the ability to see many people in films online, we do not often see high level internal skill demonstrated.

Internal martial arts ideas are hard to show directly. For example, consider the teaching aphorism: “The mind is here, feel this here”. A student may not know at all what the teacher is talking about, and think “Why can’t I feel this?”. There is a challenge inherent to the internal martial arts teaching methodology, as you cannot directly show someone what a feeling is.

External styles or wàijiā [外家] and internal styles or nèijiā [内家] “taste” different. In wàijiā, a skill is used directly and can be directly measured and tested. Did I beat you? That is easy to determine.

In nèijiā the emphasis is more on how I can beat you in the most efficient manner, using the least amount of energy. The nèijiā approach as a result can lead to very deep research into the use of and understanding of force. As a result, the training goal is different in the two types of schools. In external martial arts, natural ability is improved as one becomes stronger and faster, while in internal martial arts the natural ability is changed or transformed into a new kind of ability that was not present before.

Take as an example, in Tàijíquán when we say the word relax. Relaxation as meant in Tàijí is not the common-sense or colloquial usage of the term. The term relax takes on a new meaning for Tàijíquán practitioners – some of which I will delve into in future writing. In Tàijíquán we still need to have fitness, but that is not the primary focus of our training. We use our muscles differently, and so the ultimate result differs.

In wàijiā, many people eventually get injured or can’t do the art well or at the same level as they age. They age out of boxing, wrestling, etc. In nèijiā, because of the internal practices and the fact that they are not as extreme physically, one hopes to be healthier overall and able to train longer through life and maintain a higher level of skill as they age.

The emphasis on balance and coordination in Tàijíquán ideas are drawn from Classical Chinese Medicine. We want to cultivate good physical and mental health to be able to keep our skill longer. For the latter, learning Taoist ideas and influencing our life outside of martial arts practice will hopefully help the practitioner also obtain a deeper understanding of the world.

In Taoist cosmology, there is a progression from Wuji (emptiness) to Tàijí and then to Liangyi, where Yin and Yang are clearly separated. In Tàijí, Yin and Yang are mixed, and change smoothly from one to the other, and have a boundary that is blurry. Each is not purely Yin or purely Yang. One analogy is in Tàijí, Yin and Yang exchange continuously and smoothly (like melting), whereas in Liangyi they switch suddenly. Both ideas are useful.

Bāguàzhǎng practice, for example, uses the Liangyi idea, as exemplified by the solid and broken lines in its trigrams. Liangyi, even if sudden, can be soft. For example, dissolving a force and then attacking can be soft, but this is still separated clearly into a Yin phase and a Yang phase. In Tàijí, we continuously dissolve and attack, and the offense and defense are not clearly separated from one another, Yin and Yang are intertwined.

In Tàijí, we first practice form, then push hands, and then fighting training. This progression naturally will improve your health. However, if you only practice form, and do it for health purposes, the result is no better than walking or hiking. A student needs the entire system of progression and then can obtain a special benefit (e.g., mental benefit) as Tàijí practice will influence the student's mind and allow them to better understand the world. Regardless of lineage, we should seek to accomplish our intended results with the highest level of efficiency, and train to the highest level possible.

Historical Influences on Taiji

In ancient history, martial prowess is recorded in China, but it is not until the Song Dynasty that some specific records of martial arts are mentioned. Then, by the mid-Ming Dynasty, books and chapters start appearing on martial technique, among them works that are famous today, such as the treatises by General Qi Jiguan. Cheng Zongyou (程宗猶) studied long saber methods from Liu Yunfeng (劉雲峰), who studied a variant of Aisu Kage-ryu in coastal China. Cheng published a treatise on the long saber as part of his famous compilation titled Geng Yu Sheng Ji (耕餘剩技).

Over time, certain ideas become more popular in writing, including Yin and Yang, Shi (實; substantial) and Xu (虛; insubstantial), and Soft and Hard.

It is not clear how widespread these ideas are in martial arts in the Ming Dynasty, but we do see them in contemporary Japanese writings from masters who travelled to train in China, such as those of Shinkage-ryu detailed in my recent book. Here we take the position that they originated in Ming Dynasty China.

Generally, internal martial arts ideas developed from external practices, when people recognize the limits of such practice. Looking for a new way, some examined Taoist principles. It is our position that the so-called internal martial arts are not in general the product of a single person, but rather were developed and evolved over time by groups of people.

Example of non-Tàijíquán internal skills in China include a very high-level wrestlers during the Qing Dynasty. The Shànpūyíng (善扑营) or "Elite Wrestling Camp," was an official Qing Dynasty institution designed to train elite Manchu and Mongol wrestlers in buku (traditional jacket wrestling). Based in Beijing, these professional wrestlers were state-salaried, with the group famously used by Emperor Kangxi to neutralize Aobai, a rebel faction leader, in the court where weapons were not allowed. Some small wrestlers were so skilled, that they could not be thrown in open weight class competitions. Yang Luchan, in contrast, taught the firearm’s brigade of the Emperor’s guard. In the Ming dynasty, firearms were widespread, so melee weapons practices and groups were not as prevalent – especially so because of the ban on weapons instituted under earlier Mongol rule.

Generally, in Chinese martial arts, empty hand arts first develop internal ideas and then influenced their weapons practice with those ideas. In weapons practice, physical condition is not as important, but one still need a strong foundation of skills that are determined by the morphology of the specific weapon.

Some arts have completely transformed from external to internal. Examples include Xíngyìquán, Bāguàzhǎng, and Tàijíquán. Some have partially transformed. Examples include Tongbeiquán and Bajiquán. In the case of Shi style Tongbei, the principles of posture is very similar to other internal arts. This makes it easier for Tàijíquán adepts to practice it as a secondary practice, but it still has hard and direct skills such as iron shirt and iron palm training that are typically found in external martial arts groups.

One skilled group was the so-called 13 posture style Shísānshǒu (十三手) developed from Changquán (Long fist) in the Hebei and Hubei areas, which had both advanced principles and form routines consisting of fifty to seventy movements. It dates from the early seventeenth century and used the same posture names as contemporary external schools, including the 32 postures drawn from Qì Jiguan’s famous martial treatise. Several famous training classics are handed down today from the 13 posture style. These internal principles apply equally to Bagua, Xingyi and Tàijí – they are not Tàijíquán specific ideas.

So, while 13 posture style is not itself Tàijíquán, eventually a branch of this practice was transformed into what is today called Tàijíquán. Tàijíquán uses the 13 posture style form names almost in the same manner as the earlier historical practice. However, over time, Tàijí ideas were added to specialize the more general internal ideas of 13 posture style.

One example is, “Four ounces defeats 1,000 lbs.” That is an internal idea and in Tàijí, principle and practice is concerned with how to actually do that. In Tàijíquán, we use Tàijí ideas to accomplish the goals of internal martial arts.

If the level of skill of the 13 posture group increased over time, and became Tàijíquán, when did this happen?

Wang Zongque’s first article in his classic describes Tàijí principles completely. So, we can say that Tàijíquán is based on Wang Zongque’s classic or existed by the time of his writing. The date of this work is unclear, but it may be from the mid eighteenth century. People argue if he is indeed the author, and when the work ultimately dates from, but do not disagree so much as to whether the content of the work is correct (i.e., correct or traditional Tàijíquán).

In Xíngyìquán, a special skill or approach is the Five Element idea being used to determine how to realize internal martial arts goals. In Bāguàzhǎng, the Bāguà idea of change is used in a similar manner to develop a special skill related to spontaneous change to realize internal martial arts ideals of practice.

Tang village is likely where Tàijíquán started; they had a Tàijíquán group and a spear group 300 years ago. Wangbao Village Spear (王堡枪) masters went there to learn spear and have family records of Tang village practice. Wangbao spear style is based on the 1787 Wangbao qiangpu yuanliu xu (Preface on the Origins of the Wangbao Spear Manual) and is sometimes called Six Harmonies Spear – they favored a hardwood or willow spear 3-4 meters in length.

The Li Family Genealogy also clearly records that taijiquan was created, jointly, by Li Zhong, Li Yan, and Chen Wangting. At that time, the founding ancestors of the Li family (two brothers of Li Qingjiang and Li Qinghe), along with the founding ancestor of the Chen family from Chen Village (Chen Bu), the founding ancestor of the Haozhuang village (Chen Hou), and the founding ancestor of the Liu village (Jiang Peili); all migrants from Hongdong, gathered at the Thousand-Year Temple in Boai County to worship and made a solemn oath.

cf. Julian Chu, 2023.

This may indeed be where Jian Fa learned martial arts, who later taught the famous master and Chen village patriarch, Chen Wangting (陳王庭) in addition what Chen received from his ancestor Chen Bu. In the analysis above, Tàijíquán is then not originally from Chen Village in this telling of history but instead passed through Chen village. It also was said to have been taught in Zhaobao village around the same time.

In the 1928 Wu family Tàijí manual titled "Tàijí Gong Family Manual", there are 5 styles of Tàijí Gong mentioned. This provides additional evidence that Tàijíquán is not only the provenance of a single family or village, even at the time masters like Yang Luchan trained. There may have been up to five historical lines of Tàijíquán – arts that succeeded in developing a method of internal training by incorporating Tàijí idea from Taoism into their practice, but only descendants of the 13 posture style survive to this day. The other Tàijí schools would have had their own postures, principles, names, but all belong to the broader grouping of being Tàijíquán. They all elevated their art by adding Tàijí principle to their practice, which radically changed their practice into a form of internal martial arts practice, transforming it over time.

Chen Wanting promoted the idea of there being a single overall lineage of Tàijíquán from Chen to Yang, but writings exist in other old families (such as the Li family document quoted above) with references to the same general line of Tàijíquán being practiced also outside of Chen Village. Regardless of specific villages (Tang, Zhaobao, Chen, etc.), we can say that a line of Changquán became Shisanshou and then led to the development of the surviving lines of Tàijíquán today.

The Quanzhen school of Taoism is from Wudang mountain of Dangshan and Huashan. At Wudangshan, it is believed that internal Tàijí ideas were added to 13 posture style. This is why people will say Zhang Sanfeng founded Tàijíquán, as he was an abbot of Wudangshan who eventually taught the Ming emperor after the Emperor gave support that Taoist branch. So, since Taoism is important in Tàijíquán, many people revere a famous Taoist master such as Zhang Sanfeng as its originator, even though he lived thousands of years ago.

Lineages of martial arts often cite a famous historical person as inspiration. For example, in the case of Xíngyìquán, Yue Fei, who was a brave and courteous hero, is regarded as a founder, even though his time predates Xíngyìquán practice by several hundred years. Dong Haichuan credits a wandering Taoist for his training, but that figure is likely fictitious rather than historical: crediting a mysterious Taoist would be a polite way for Dong to say he himself invented Bāguàzhǎng.

In summary, while we recognize the role of legendary founders in Chinese culture, and the strong familial bonds within single family groupings, we do not in general believe these arts were actually created in a single generation by a single person, especially not an art as sophisticated as Tàijíquán.

Examples of Taiji Skills

A famous phrase in Taiji is to “Use four ounces to manipulate 1,000 pounds.”

This refers to the idea that a small force, properly applied, can manipulate a very big force. We want to work to reduce as much as possible the amount of force we need to use in order to control or manipulate an opponent. To do this, we need to increase the efficiency of our movements and attempt to reduce the amount of energy we expend when throwing an opponent, while still having a great effect. We can examine ideas like posture, timing, direction (angle), relative position. As our skill improves, we apply increasingly greater levels of detail to our approach, yielding greater results.

When dealing with a very powerful movement (strike, grab, etc.) a great amount of our own force may still be required — just not as much as if we had utilized a less efficient approach. Skill level in Tàijíquán can be said to be correlated with how little force we can use, how easily we can take someone's balance to get them off their root. In Tàijíquán to accomplish higher-level skills, we need to have Qì feeling in our body, integration of mind and body, and coordinated movement.

Zhan Nian Lian Sui is an important concept in Tàijíquán practice. Its four words (Adhere, Stick Up, Connect, Follow) are an admonition to what is a correct approach for close-quarter application. Performing Zhan Nian Lian Sui depends both on mental and physical conditioning. The four words refers to two pairs: Zhan-nian and Liansui. Zhan-nian jìn has to do with offense, while Liansui jìn has to do with defense. Jìn means cultivated skill or power or ability — a type of trained force. In this case, we consider four abilities in two pairs that transform our approach to grappling and allow us to develop higher-level approaches in our Tàijíquán. Expressing Zhan-nian jìn and Lian-sui jìn correctly is an important prerequisite for developing Dǒng jìn, the proper understanding of cultivated force. These skills all come from relaxation and developing a relaxed feeling.

Once you have cultivated relaxation, you build up these skills from that foundation. But relaxation is not the common external view of that idea. In application, you need enervation — you have to express force. But, you should keep everything relaxed, and then in an instant when you need to release force, you integrate your force together. Otherwise, you can’t do anything. However, you are constantly storing as you release, not storing then releasing. Opening and closing, not opening and then closing. This is a core Tàijí principle.

In training, you need the prerequisite foundation of cultivating a relaxed state, but you also need to cultivate specific body condition or qualities and know the correct way of doing things, for example details on posture like the nine key points, so that you are able to integrate your force.

This develops the physical organization of your body so you can be relaxed and stable enough to get to the point of understanding Zhan Nian Lian Sui. Then you can achieve the state of Dǒng Jìn (understanding force) and develop what is called a Tàijí feeling that permeates your practice.

Taoism leads to the Tàijí idea, leads to Tàijí principles, leads to qualities we want to cultivate, leads to their physical expression and our physical change. That is a hierarchy that lets us understand what to do, but in training we need to work from the bottom-up from physical movement, to qualities, to principles, and finally the idea of what is Tàijí.

Some things we always work to improve, such as our ability to relax and sense (sensitivity). No matter how good you are, these can continue to improve, so we always need to work on basics and strive to improve.

Form (Ti) and Application (Yòng) together will yield good health. Once you know the principles and ideas, Taiiquán will change your thinking. Most time is spent on form, and a smaller amount of time spent on fixed push hands. Then freestyle pushing, which is the focus of application (yòng). Then special training for combat.

Form makes the body good enough for application.

Today there are too many different Tàijíquán forms. For example in Wu style, the Hong Kong, Shanghai, and Beijing groups all practice form differently. There are also too many styles (i.e., Yang, Hao, Wu, Chen, CMC “Professor” style, Sun, etc.). Historically, individual lines of practice became famous because of the high level of skill of a master practitioner. But just because a person trains with such a person there is no guarantee they themselves will become any good. Usually only a few people will become excellent practitioners in a generation. For example, a person might practice a form or training routine, but maybe the fine details of their practice are not correct.

There is not very much fighting between traditional martial artists these days, so people who train a long time do not get direct feedback on their skill and wind up not knowing their actual level of skill. This is a big problem for traditional martial arts groups. People can go for a long time without realizing they are making an important mistake, in contrast to arts that have a competitive aspect.

So, it can be the case that some, maybe even most, students and disciples of different styles (regardless of style) may not train in a way that will lead to the high-level skill that made Tàijíquán famous. For example, if they are taught something and do not properly understand it, they may practice incorrectly for a very long period of time, especially if they train at a distance from a teacher. It is not very helpful to compare styles directly (Yang vs. Wu vs. Chen) in terms of their training routines, since these challenges affect all lineages, but it is still possible to evaluate individuals to get a sense if they understand Tàijíquán or not. It is hard to comment on a person's skill without touching them, but you can tell if basic things are wrong. If basic ideas are wrong, you can conclude that they likely cannot express high-level Tàijí skills, as they don't have a basis with which to develop the sense of relaxation and sensitivity required to integrate force properly. For example, if someone practices Wu style, and does not have the nine key points of posture, we know the style will not work for them, as their internal Qì will not move correctly. So, by watching for those nine key points and not finding them, you can know they probably cannot execute high-level skills.

This is just one example specific to a style I practice, but the generally idea holds.