Ever wonder why Taijiquan is generally practiced slowly? Below is an excerpt from a post that appeared at Slanted Flying, which examines that topic. The full post may be read here.A common joke about t’ai chi
is about a practitioner who is confronted by a bully to fight. The
practitioner agrees to go outside and fight, but tells the bully, “it
will have to be in slow motion!” The popular misconception about t’ai
chi is that the practice is just a slow motion dance, and many people
are surprised that it is also a highly skilled martial art. But what
about this slow motion aspect?
Different speeds produce different
effects for learning. At fast speeds one can appreciate the momentum of
swinging and turning as well as experience the force of strikes, but it
is too fast to attend to details and subtleties. Medium speed is
perhaps a balance between learning momentum and balance, but still does
not provide the detailed attention necessary for exploring nuances of
movement.
When moving fast through forms, one set of muscles
becomes active to initiate the movement and another stops the movement.
Between initiation and stopping there are many other processes
occurring, but we move so rapidly we seldom notice them. Slow movement
enables us to pay closer attention to relaxing muscles that are not
needed for the movement, aligning and sinking the body, relaxing
abdominal breathing (we tend to hold it or breathe in the upper chest
when concentrating), and linking and coordinating all parts of the body.
Learning
t’ai chi is a complex motor process. Consider the principles of posture
from the classics: Keep the head upright, hollow the chest, relax the
waist, differentiate substantial and insubstantial, sink the shoulders
and drop the elbows, coordinate upper and lower parts of the body, and
so on. Each of these requires close attention and practice, let alone
how they are all finally integrated into the flowing movements of t’ai
chi. Slow and repetitive practice allows attending to each one and
gradually integrating them into a fluid form.
A common joke about t’ai chi
is about a practitioner who is confronted by a bully to fight. The
practitioner agrees to go outside and fight, but tells the bully, “it
will have to be in slow motion!” The popular misconception about t’ai
chi is that the practice is just a slow motion dance, and many people
are surprised that it is also a highly skilled martial art. But what
about this slow motion aspect?
Different speeds produce different
effects for learning. At fast speeds one can appreciate the momentum of
swinging and turning as well as experience the force of strikes, but it
is too fast to attend to details and subtleties. Medium speed is
perhaps a balance between learning momentum and balance, but still does
not provide the detailed attention necessary for exploring nuances of
movement.
When moving fast through forms, one set of muscles
becomes active to initiate the movement and another stops the movement.
Between initiation and stopping there are many other processes
occurring, but we move so rapidly we seldom notice them. Slow movement
enables us to pay closer attention to relaxing muscles that are not
needed for the movement, aligning and sinking the body, relaxing
abdominal breathing (we tend to hold it or breathe in the upper chest
when concentrating), and linking and coordinating all parts of the body.
Learning
t’ai chi is a complex motor process. Consider the principles of posture
from the classics: Keep the head upright, hollow the chest, relax the
waist, differentiate substantial and insubstantial, sink the shoulders
and drop the elbows, coordinate upper and lower parts of the body, and
so on. Each of these requires close attention and practice, let alone
how they are all finally integrated into the flowing movements of t’ai
chi. Slow and repetitive practice allows attending to each one and
gradually integrating them into a fluid form.