Here at the frontier, the leaves fall like rain. Although my neighbors are all barbarians, there are still two cups at my table.

Ten thousand flowers in spring, the moon in autumn, a cool breeze in summer, snow in winter. If your mind isn't clouded by unnecessary things, this is the best season of your life.

~ Wu-men ~

Sunday, January 07, 2018

Tai Chi Chuan: Investing in Loss

Below is an excerpt from a post at Internal Gong Fu, discussing the meaning of the phrase, "Invest in Loss." The full post may be read here.

Investing in Loss (吃亏): The Way of Internal Gongfu

The phrase "investing in loss" (吃亏) has been widely (and wildly) interpreted and yet no one to my knowledge has ventured to explain this phrase in terms of an internal gongfu practice!

Unfortunately, the phrase "investing in loss" first appeared in a reference to Tai-chi Chuan and the mechanical practice of yielding or redirecting in push-hands. I now believe that the context in which this phrase appeared has misdirected a generation of practitioners away from its true meaning. Before we get into it, let's step back and look at the bigger picture.

The Invest-Gain Pattern
In our everyday lives, we are taught to think of investing as a method to gain something; invest in learning to acquire knowledge, invest money to gain profit, etc... By the time we become adults, the invest-gain pattern is deeply ingrained in our being. Even if we implement the various interpretations of this phrase, we do so with the expectation that we will get something in return. It is not the nature of this pattern to expect the result to be the loss of something with no imminent gain on the immediate horizon.

Translating chī kuī  (吃亏)
The Chinese phrase chī kuī (吃亏) literally translates as “eat loss”. Although the primary meaning of chī (吃) is "to eat", chī in another context can also metaphorically mean "to bear" or "to suffer". The term kuī (亏) can have the meaning: deficient, loss, to wane. And so chī kuī (吃亏) translates as "to suffer or bear a loss". Thus, on the surface, translating chī (吃) as "invest" may appear to be a bad translation but probing deeper, there is an inner logic within the English language which renders this a brilliant translation but only when considered within the context of a qigong or an internal gongfu practice! And please, do not confuse kuī 亏 (loss) with kǔ 苦 (bitter). Although loss may taste bitter, and you may need to eat bitter to attain eat loss, the two are not the same.

When understood from an internal gongfu perspective, chī kuī (吃亏) "invest in loss" stands as a principle of an internal gongfu practice synonymous with other phrases such as: empty your cup, unlearn what you have learned, relax, and calm down. (For an internal gongfu understanding of these terms, please see my post titled: Emptying Your Cup: The Way of Internal Gongfu.)

Soft-Round and Martial Intent
My research and experience now leads me to infer that the meaning of "investing in loss" probably arose in the context of qigong which advocates developing a soft round body. Those who achieved the kinesthetic quality of soft round and subsequently experimented with imbuing this quality with martial intent made an incredible discovery. And as they say, the rest is history. (For a discussion of soft, please see my post titled: Tai Chi Principles: Muscular Quality of Sung.)

In an oversimplified and very generalized formulaic context: soft round + martial intent = the kinesthetic quality that is the hallmark of the highest level of ALL martial arts. Distinguishing soft round from martial intent is an important distinction. Why? Because each require a unique form of practice. It is the blending of the two that manifest a unique form of martial-oriented movement.

What does soft-round have to do with "investing in loss"? Simply, to develop soft round requires practicing chī kuī (吃亏), "investing in loss". (For an in-depth analysis of the meaning of "round", see my book Secrets of the Pelvis.)
If you want to study, begin by investing in loss. Most people who come to a loss-based, internal gongfu practice are quickly confused about the nature of the practice despite their confidence in their own preconceptions; "I know what 'investing in loss' means. Just show me what to do." With a life-long indoctrination in the invest-gain pattern, the presumption is that the same invest-gain mindset can be applied to an internal gongfu practice. Although the principles and methods may be quickly absorbed at the intellectual level (though inaccurately understood), it can take a long time to structurally comprehend what the practice actually entails. If you want to engage an internal gongfu practice, the place to start is by doing the "not" of whatever it is you think you should be doing to "get" internal gongfu. What does this mean?

Concentrating your ch'i to become soft is the only proper method to invest in loss.
As we know, the term ch'i (qi) has no equivalent in a western cultural context. It has been horribly misused since its introduction to the west and from my experience it serves no useful purpose in the internal gongfu arena. Instead, I propose thinking of this sentence in these terms: Focusing your intention on making your muscles supple is the only proper method to invest in loss.

What does it mean to make your muscles supple? Relax! Let go of emotional-muscular rigidity that is bound up in your body. From an internal gongfu perspective, loss refers to letting go of or "losing" chronic emotional-muscular tension and habituated ways of moving and being. When relax is done properly, this is loss. When on the verge of letting go of long-held muscular rigidity, fear asserts itself. Bearing fear, loss occurs. "Investing in loss" is a far more profound practice than superficially learning (adding on) a new skill; how to mechanically "yield" and redirect all the while maintaining your emotional-muscular rigidity! "Investing in loss" is not a practice about adding and refining a new muscle memory. "Investing in loss" is a practice about releasing (or losing) old muscle memories! Practice chī kuī not to get something but to lose something.

Additionally, becoming "soft" does not mean becoming "limp". Releasing/losing emotional-muscular rigidity to develop muscular suppleness occurs in the context of maintaining structure and balance.

Then you will not fear losing.
Coincident with the invest-gain pattern is the fear-of-losing pattern. Together these are a formidable barrier to allowing loss to occur. For decades I practiced Wujifa zhan zhuang both with the aspiration of gaining something and with the fear of losing something. I don't recommend this path. However, throughout my years of practice, I've also experienced countless mini-losses (let go a little here, a little there) which in hindsight represents a significant accumulation of loss! It's like the old joke: How do you eat a whole cow? One bite at a time. Letting go in a big way will get you there faster. Letting go in a small way may get you there eventually.

Once the first loss has passed, then other losses may come more easily. Repeated letting go and relaxing results in a diminishing if not an outright loss of the fear of letting go and relaxing. (This of course depends on the person and their attachment to the particular rigidity encountered.) That said, as I continue to lose, I may encounter more deep-seated fears. Being reminded of previous losses, the fear of losing may be diminished (and again, maybe not). Losing the fear of losing may require years, decades, or a lifetime of practicing loss. At some point, we are reminded, you will no longer fear relaxing and letting go. You will no longer fear losing.

1 comment:

Simon said...

Lovely--"loss" also applies to meditation practice -- we sit not to gain but to lose; nibbana translates as extinguishment--the fires go out; they are not enlightened.