At Thoughts on Tai Chi, there was a very nice post on how one should approach practicing the taijiquan form. An excerpt is below. The full post may be read here.
I don’t teach much nowadays for various reasons, but years ago, when I was teaching a group, I was always a bit reluctant to correct students’ postures. Sometimes I did, if a student was lazy or unfocused, but I didn’t really try to show them the exact alignment as “this is how the posture should be.”
Many teachers walk around correcting their students as they do their form, or they let them stop in a posture and walk around them. However, none of my teachers had that habit. I do know a few who do it though. Poor students, I would say — because those teachers aren’t the best practitioners themselves.
The thing is, you need to feel from within—through your own body and experience. Tai Chi, as I’ve stated elsewhere on this blog, is about self-awareness and body-awareness. If you try to adjust your postures according to someone else’s standard, or to how you assume the postures should look, you’re already making a fundamental mistake: you’re approaching your art from the outside in.
But then—how do you learn to feel what is correct? This is the crux of the matter. The problem is, it’s easy to fool yourself—to think you’re balanced, sunk, and relaxed. But is it real sinking? Are you truly relaxed enough?
This is where push hands and other partner exercises come in. They help you feel the real standards of relaxation and balance—because a training partner will challenge your alignment, your structure, and your ability to stay relaxed under pressure. You need to be challenged in many ways and receive input from different directions to truly feel what’s right, and why.
And this is where function can help guide your progress. Even when it comes to Tai Chi forms, there are general standards of alignment—such as the angles at which each posture is strongest. But again, you need to learn how to feel these things—through context and through function.
One of my teachers—the one I respected most—summed it up beautifully. He compared Tai Chi practice and practitioners to sculptures and teapots. A sculpture has shape and form that allow it to stand upright without falling—that’s the only function its balance serves. A teapot, on the other hand, must be usable. You should be able to hold it when it’s hot, lift it when full, and pour from it without spilling. Its shape and balance must serve a purpose.
In the same way, your posture in Tai Chi must be functional. It’s not about looking right—it’s about working right.