Yi Xin Gong presentation

For those who haven’t seen this, here is Shifu Painter’s presentation of Yi Xin Gong at A Taste of China. Trust me when I tell you there is a lot going in inside his body that is best explained in class or workshop. If you are planning to attend the Gathering of the Circle in the Catskills this June, the topic of Yi Xin Gong will be part of your experience.

Yin, Yang, and Dao

Yin & Yang & Dao

Many people practice Chinese martial arts both internal and external. They talk about Yin and yang and Dao. The question is, how many truly understand the implications of these terms and how they apply to the philosophy of the health and martial practice known as Baguazhang or any other internal system?

“Everybody talks about Yin and yang,
But almost no one does anything about it!”
- John Painter

“Ok, you punch me real hard, right here,” the little man said, thumb pointing to his tiny nose. Knowing not to question a command, I launched a Xingyiquan standing fist with all my might at the grinning face of my 79-year-old teacher. I remember feeling a sensation like the brush of an eagle’s feather near my elbow, a sudden jarring impact on my chest, and then I found myself sailing backwards totally out of control. Landing unceremoniously in a heap against the old mattress strapped to the fence, I stayed down for the inevitable lecture that was to follow.

Mr. Li, the former head of the Li family of Chinese “wagon masters”, a formidable clan of bodyguards from Sichuan, China now living in exile in the United States, sauntered the ten feet across the back yard, looked down, and said, ” This was the energy of the yin and yang, what we call taijijin.”

“How is that in English, Shifu?” I asked slowly struggled to my feet and rubbing my sternum. “It is from my families quanfa , you would say in English, ‘fist fighting method.’ This was just part of our eight principles of action.”

“Shifu, I hardly felt you guide my strike away and at the same time I felt so much power from your palm.” Beckoning mysteriously with his index finger he pointed to the back wall of his house. He pulled himself up to his full height and assumed an air of supreme importance. His bony finger traced a line around a circle painted on a weathered piece of plywood that hung from the wall. It was white on one side and black on the other. The two halves were divided by a reverse ‘S’-shaped line.

“That is the yin yang, so what’s the big deal!?!” I blurted out. The little man folded his arm in front of his body placing his right palm against the inside of his forearm. He gently touched my shoulder and suddenly I was flying once again, only this time sideways through the air. “That was fajin form,” he said, hands on hips, staring down at me like a Chinese drill sergeant.

“And this is not yin yang. It is taiji, the foundation of all energy. When you understand this, and how wuji creates taiji, and taiji generates yin and yang, and the eight gua are each an expression of yin and yang, then you will know something. When you truly know taiji idea, then I have no more to teach you. Right now I fear you know less than that, so let us start.” I did not ask any more questions that day. I just listened as Li, Longdao began my Baguazhang taiji instruction. I was only sixteen then, and today at over sixty I am still working on the multiple layers of the simple yet oh-so-complex principles of the taiji.

Before his death, Master Jou, Tsung Hwa once told me during a visit to his farm in New York, “John you were very lucky to have a teacher that showed you the old way of Taijiquan and Baguazhang. I searched all over China for masters who knew the real martial ways; except for a very few teachers almost all is lost now. People talk of it but really no one knows the philosophy of taiji or the bagua and how they are the master keys that make these arts what they are.” He shook his head and looked down.” In America, even worse: All lost, all becoming sport with no inside! We must work to preserve the real founding idea and methods.”

I was moved by his faith in me, a guy from Texas, not even a Chinese, and I was reminded of the 1897 Charles D. Warner editorial when he penned the now famous saying, “Everyone talks about the weather, but nobody does anything about it.” Warner could just as easily have been speaking about the principles of yin and yang as related to the practice of Baguazhang and other so-called Chinese internal martial arts. Few people really understand or care anymore. They are too busy trying to perfect the outer appearance of a form to win a trophy or capture the will-o-the-wisp of eternal health.

What is Yin and Yang?
Today with so many books, magazines, and teachers sprouting up on every corner like convenience stores, people have a confused view of what Chinese philosophy and the words dao, yin, and yang really are.

This is especially true in the world of Chinese martial arts as taught in North America and Europe. Some think yin and yang are Daoist esoteric principles to be discussed in hushed tones; to others they are the essence of the healing powers of Taijiquan.

Others feel that yin and yang are philosophical concepts that have nothing to do with gongfu (Kung Fu) or combat methods. One author went so far as to write, “In relation to the actual teaching of Kung Fu, the Yin-Yang principle seems nowhere evident; it appears as the symbol, but without meaning which can be connected to the teaching.” (Bruce Tegner’s Book of Kung Fu & Tai Chi: Chinese Karate and Classical Exercises; Thor Publishing 1968)

Sorry, Mr. Tegner, but Baguazhang and Taijiquan are martial arts both totally derived from understanding the interaction of these two qualities of energy.

Baguazhang especially is an art that could not exist were it not for these principles. One must come to know the taiji and the yin and yang of ones own body and how to apply it to guide and control the actions of an opponent. Indeed, Baguazhang employs the principle of yin and yang for every aspect of its practice.

Origins of Taiji Symbol

The design we know, a circle with two interconnecting circular shapes is not the yin and yang; it is called the taijidu (“diagram of the supreme ultimate”). Contrary to popular belief although they adopted the symbol as their own, it is not of Daoist origin. The symbol in question was created by a Neo-Confucian, Chou Tun-I in the 5th Century BC to show the interaction of Yin and yang as described in the Yijing (book of change) and the Dao De Jing (classic of way and power).

The First Taiji Symbol
Prior to the taijidu, symbols from the Yijing had been used to illustrate the yin & yang principal. The diagram comprised of three symbols from the Yijing.

The Yijing Gua Fire

__________

____    ____

__________

The Gua Water

____    ____

__________

____   _____

They were wrapped around an empty circle, the symbol of Wuji (the void).

Interestingly, when you mix fire and water you get steam, which in Chinese is the character for qi (“life force energy”).

Daoists Did Not Invent Yin & Yang

While the three main branches of Chinese philosophy, Confucianism, Daoism, and Buddhism all use the yin and yang or taijidu symbol in their philosophical and medical practices, Taiji has become in the Western mind associated with Daoism.

This concept of polar opposites, yin and yang and the word dao originated in China’s pre-history long before even the Daoist, Confucian, or Buddhist sects arose. It was first discussed by the legendary First Emperor, Fuxi around 2730 BCE in his writing on the Yijing and was expanded upon over thousands of years by the three branches of Chinese thought.

When early Chinese man felt the winter air grow cold and the trees fell bare, he believed that life was over. There would be no more warmth. But with the advent of another summer, followed by another winter, man noticed a developing cycle. Realizing this helped early man in China to understand and bring order into the chaos of life. This recognition eventually led emperor Fuxi to begin recording what was to become the Yijing (Book of Changes). The yin/yang’s white and black hemispheres evolved over time. They became symbolic of everything physical, spiritual and emotional in the universe-male (yang), female (yin); sun (yang), moon (yin). For everything up there is a down. For every back there is a front

In time the common people of China and the Daoists adopted this version of the symbol of Master Chou Tun-I. It is the “double fish diagram” and is often mistakenly called the Yin and yang. This icon is actually called taijitu or grand ultimate terminus principle. The black and white curved circles fitting into each express the Dao of eternal wholeness. The unbroken line surrounding the two symbolizes wuji, while the reversed ‘S’-shaped curved line in the center simply divides the two. The two dots mean that nothing is ever absolutely one thing. Each thing contains just a little of the essence of the other. taijidu also represents continuous interaction or movement. There is no separate yin without yang or yang without yin. The two are part of one whole, the Taiji, and the Taiji is the creative principle of Dao.

A more modern way of illustrating this symbol would be to use an airbrush would to make the two slowly dissolve into each other. The black would blend into white so imperceptibly that there would be no way to say here is where yin starts and yang ends. For, in truth, there is no clear separation of night and day. Day fades to dusk and to night and to dawn back to day. It is the way of Taiji to move gently and smoothly.

Yijing Stages of Yin and Yang

In a correctly placed taijidu, the yang is on the left at the top and is associated with heaven, creative energy, and heat, and yin is moving down the right side to the bottom representing earth, receptive, and cooling energy. As one goes around the circle a cycle of energy exchange appears. At the top the yang is at its prime, then clockwise, the yin, or cold, begins to show. As one continues to move toward the bottom of the yin/yang circle all is yin, so cold dominates. Continue going clockwise, however, and the yang, or heat, will reappear. There are many different interpretations for what the lines symbolize.

In the Yijing, Winter (yin), a dormant period, has three broken lines. Summer (yang), the hottest time, has three solid lines. An agrarian calendar was created to chart the seasons. Over the centuries, Daoist and Confucians charted thousands of correspondences to these changes of yin to yang and back again.

If we study the diagram of the taijidu placed inside the circular arrangement of the Fuxi Yijing diagram it becomes apparent what the three line figures represent stages of change around the circle of the taijidu. Knowing this helps us to understand what happens after a particular event.

Dao of Yin and Yang and Baguazhang

No matter what philosophy one chooses, the concepts of dao, wuji, yin, and yang are part of the science of the Taiji. Taiji concepts are everywhere: not just in high-minded philosophy but also in physics, body mechanics and the movement of our bodies through space, to the on and off reaction of nerves, and the flexion (yang) and contraction (yin) of muscles. Even if you do not understand Chinese, this idea as a philosophy of action and reaction is central to understanding the foundation of the martial art called Jiulong Baguazhang.

For the Westerner understanding the principles of Daoist thought is not an easy task. In the first place, dao, like many other Chinese concepts, is mostly a construct of the intuitive or right-brain approach to life. Westerners tend to be predominately analytical or left-brained.

Even the way we write in the West is different from the eastern way. Ideograms, the type of writing used in China, are not at all like the Western alphabet. Chinese characters are most often symbols that represent ideas and poetic feelings expressed as a sort of artistic short hand that stimulates the right brain to feel a mood or energy about something. Perhaps this is why so many in the West try to make it mysterious and esoteric when in reality it is as common as the rain, moon, and sun.

What Then Is Dao?

First, if I could answer this I would not be here. There would be no reason to be on the Earth. No one has the total answer, no one! I will state what I believe at this time in my study. Later it may change; that is also the nature of Dao.

Daoists seek to follow the principles of Dao. Today, however, Daoism is divided into two main branches. One has turned the simple philosophy of Lao Zi into a complex religion, while the other Daoism is a simple approach to understanding nature.

So what is the Dao? Dao is not a thing. A simplistic way of putting it is to say, Dao means how, the how and why of things in the world both seen and unseen. In the classic of Daoist literature, the Dao De Jing, the author Lao Zi writes:

The Dao that can be spoken of is not the eternal Dao.
The name that can be named is not the true name.
The nameless (wuji) is the origin of both heaven (yang) and earth (yin);
That which we give name (taiji) is the mother of all existence,
Darkness within darkness, the gate to all mystery.
All who desire can see only the manifestation of it;
All who renounce desire can see the mysteries.
— Lao Zi, Dao De Jing #1

Here is a clue to the Dao of yin and yang. It is a profound mystery. Why? Because it is so simple that it appears complex. Lao Zi also tells us that Dao, no matter how we talk about it, remains an enigma. It is not yin and yang or taiji but the progenitor of them.

Dao can be examined but not touched; felt, but not seen. Its principles and laws of action expressed by yin and yang can be observed and utilized. We cannot use the Dao itself it is a universal absolute. Dao is the beginning and end of all things; it is both ancient and new.
Lao Zi says,

“Something mysteriously formed the primal creator.
I do not know its name for lack of a better word I call it Dao”

So trying to find a literal definition for the word “Dao” is virtually impossible. The Chinese calligraphic characters for Dao are derived from two radicals: the first meaning “foot” or “traveling”, and the second, “crowned head of a wise man or sage.” Simply, the “path of life,” or the “the path a wise person walks.” This is why I say, “Dao means how.”

When we know how we should move with things, we are working in the flow of Dao. To the original masters and martial artists looking at Dao or nature and finding the yin and yang energies in it was a way to glean valuable information.  By watching, listening, and learning how the flow of energy and cycles of life and death move through all natural things, one begins to see a pattern or way to the energy of things. Once you learn to see the ebb and flow of life’s ever-changing currents, the better you can deal with the highs and lows thrown your way on a daily basis.  Those who do not observe Dao or use its principles swim against the current and can expect a life of constant strife.

While Dao is the Alpha and the Omega, it is not the same as an anthropomorphic God. Dao is more like Einstein’s idea of a “unified field” of energy that is the ground upon which is played out everything that ever was, is, and will be. The mutuality of action and reaction, vibration and stillness arising from it is the engine that drives it all.

The Dao of Baguazhang can exist on many levels. In its simplest application it would be to learn to apply the principles of yin and yang to every aspect of combat or fist fighting: how the mind moves the muscles and which muscles need to move in harmony with other, and how action and reaction creates or dissipates power; how to harmonize with incoming energy and use it to advantage. There are thousands of ideas that are not so mysterious when you examine them carefully. Yes. It is really just that simple to say but very hard to do. So much has to be unlearned.

There is no time like the present to begin.

International Copyright IAM Co.1998
This article may not be copied for redisplay on the Internet or use in any publications.
You may print it for your own private use if you like

Jiulong is a martial ART

Ok, so the title is stating the obvious, right?  Of course it’s is a martial art.  What I want to emphasize is the art portion and the significance of the structure of Jiulong.  As I have an extensive background in music, drawing analogies between it and Jiulong was clear to me from the beginning, and I will use these analogies to make my point.

In music composition theory, I studied the ways that various musical elements can be assembled to create the forward flow of the meaningful sounds we know as music.  In essence, the basic structure is notes arranged sequentially to create a motif (a single short musical idea).  The motif could be added to or expanded in various ways to create a phrase or statement.  The phrase could be added to or expanded to create a sentence.  Sentences could be expanded to create sections.

Sections could be expanded to create whole pieces of music.  By starting with a very small idea consisting of perhaps only 3 notes, one can expand them through various composition devices and, of course, pure creativity, to build a piece of music.

There are many other elements with which to be concerned such as harmony, rhythm etc.  but these could also be aspects of the initial motif.  And of course the initial motif is often a spontaneous creation coming in a moment of inspiration to the composer.  The point here is to see that the artistic process is a combination of initial creative input, combined with technical understanding of how to assemble the components into a meaningful whole we call art.

In Jiulong we start with basic elements such as stances, postures, etc. and learn to assemble them into different motifs.   For example, if you stand in a dragon stance and hold a Twin Yang Heaven posture (see picture) you have created a motif – another palm or stance, another motif.  Then we expand the Dragon/Twin Yang Heaven motif by stepping forward and lowering the arms to a Twin Yin Heaven posture.

We have added movement into another position.  This motion can be thought of as a phrase or statement.  Now expand the statement called “moving from Dragon/Twin Yang to Dragon/Twin Yin” by adding a martial application of this statement.  It becomes “moving from Dragon/Twin Yang to Dragon/Twin Yin and pressing into one’s partner’s center, causing them to be displaced.”

Observe what is happening: We have taken a simple single idea or motif called Dragon/Twin Yang and expanded it into a meaningful statement of martial application.  This is not a particular self defense move applicable to a specific situation, but a set of ideas built up from their component parts.

What is unique and artful about Jiulong is that the entire art is structured in this way.  We learn basic concepts or principles (musical notes).  Then we see how 2 or 3 of these principles can be assembled (motif).  These basic assemblies combine with each other in movement (phrase) and these in turn are applied in various situations (sentences or statements).  The longer statements are expressed one after the other, spontaneously to create one’s responses in a combat situation (musical work).

So what makes this a martial art is this teaching of principles which the practitioner puts together in any way she wants to express.  There are no fixed forms, rather there are creative ways of assembling the principles based on the situation at hand.

I will go one step further and add that the specific form of music that Jiulong most resembles is jazz.  Jazz is embodies spontaneous creativity based on an understanding of the principles of melody, harmony etc. the analogy is clear.  Jiulong is spontaneous creativity based on principles of body structure, movement, mental focus etc.

I hope this gives you, the Jiulong student, a way of thinking about their practice that is unique and, best of all, a personal expression of yourself  as a … wait for it … martial artist.

Lost in the Form, Looking for Sung

by Dr. John P. Painter

International Copyright IAM Co. 2008
All rights reserved please do not distribute without permission of author.
thegompa@aol.com

The principles of Baguazhang are not exactly the same as that of Taijiquan. 
The two arts share some similarities and common words. One of these words is 
sung. Finding sung for internal martial arts is not so much about doing 
specific things or specific actions, it is for me about internal feelings and 
awareness resulting from a very personal process of experiential learning.

One of the more difficult but essential principles to grasp in Baguazhang 
practice, especially for Westerners, is that of SUNG (Song); often refereed 
to as relaxation and sinking of the body. Ask most Baguazhang players what 
the word means and they will say that it means to relax, sink, or get loose 
when you do the form. You can see students by the hundreds acting like limp 
dishrags, flopping loosely about while flailing their hands and arms in slow 
motion as though their bones had just dissolved away.

A few misguided individuals believe that in some mysterious way their Qi will 
begin to move their body independently of muscular or mental action. A 
well-known Chinese Baguazhang instructor once said to me, “I have achieved a 
state in my Baguazhang that, when I practice, my muscles no longer move my 
body. I am so loose and relaxed that my Qi moves me instead!” He even wrote 
this in an article in a prominent martial arts publication.

Let us understand reality from the beginning, movement of your physical body 
without mentally and/or neurologically activating muscular contractions is a 
physiological impossibility. You simply cannot move without flexing a muscle 
and every time you flex a muscle to walk, stand, sit, punch, kick, chew food, 
talk, or raise your arms then your mind/brain and nervous system are 
involved.

Understanding the proper role played by balancing muscular contraction 
(tension) with muscular release (relaxation) in Baguazhang practice is a 
sadly neglected subject for many devotees of Baguazhang. I am not sure 
exactly where these ideas of becoming limp as a dishrag or Qi moving the body 
without the help of the external skeletal muscles began. They certainly do 
not seem to be in harmony with the Baguazhang classics. The masters who wrote 
the definitive literature on Baguazhang all say that it is the mind and not 
the Qi that moves the body.

WHAT IS SUNG?

Let’s examine the concept of Sung from a practical perspective. The word Sung 
in the Chinese dictionary has numerous definitions. The first of which is 
surprisingly enough: A pine tree. The second definition refers to a state in 
which a thing becomes relaxed, without excess tension. It is important to 
remember at this point that the Chinese written language is comprised of 
symbols that do not always indicate precise concrete things as in English. 
Chinese characters often have layers of meaning that represents feelings and 
ideas.

At first glance it is not so easy to see what a pine tree has to do with 
being relaxed, yet this is exactly the image that conveys the concept of what 
true Sung is all about. The doggerel about the ancient pine and the snow by 
my teacher Li Longdao at the opening of this article was the way he explained 
Sung to me as a young boy.

he pine is an ancient Daoist symbol of longevity and eternal youth, as the 
tree remains green and flexible no matter what the season. Its roots are deep 
and strong and the limbs are long and can support great weight. As in the 
poem, when there is an outside force applied to the limbs, they do not resist 
or become rigid. The limb bows slightly under the weight of the snow, 
allowing the weighty mass to slide off. The pine tree is not limp or flaccid. 
It has just the right balance of firm, flexible resistance without rigidity 
to sustain itself though all types of weather. It is in this same way that I 
believe we should view the concept of Sung in Baguazhang.

ON THE LONG ROAD TO NOWHERE

The late master Jou Tsung Hwa, a highly regarded author and teacher of 
Taijiquan from New York, told me, “Many people practice their Taijiquan and 
Baguazhang forms for years and years and never achieve true success. If you 
continue to depend only on your teacher, or merely try to reproduce, copy, 
and preserve a particular teacher’s approach, you will not reach your highest 
potential. You must take the lessons and research them on your own. Find out 
what is keeping you from success and eliminate it.

The belief that constant form repetition will produce Sung skill or Qi is a 
path many follow. Mindlessly repeating a form over and over again is really a 
long road to nowhere. A few years ago at a martial arts tournament a top 
competitor who has won a number of medals pulled me aside and said, “Dr. 
Painter, can you tell me how to feel the Qi in the forms? I copied my 
teacher, but I don’t feel anything. How do I feel internal energy?”

Like so many others he had been doing internal arts externally. I told him 
what my teacher had shared with me, “The form or style is not important. What 
is important is what the mind or the Yi (intent) does during the movement and 
that the body alignments are correct for the specific movements intended 
purpose.”

I feel in the case of Sung, “feeling Qi” as a result of training Sung arises 
as the by-product of correct mental and physical activity. To feel the Qi in 
your Baguazhang, what you must do is carefully examine in slow motion each 
action you make; feeling the muscles flexing, stretching, and relaxing 
harmoniously. When you consciously work to slowly and deliberately control 
the actions of your body in sequence, you learn to relax the muscles not 
needed in a specific action.

As this happens your autonomic nervous system will dilate blood vessels 
activated though your mental desire to “feel”. The nerves will become more 
sensitive and you will experience these sensations as Qi flows. This feeling 
of Qi is the end result of a proper release of musculoskeletal tension. The 
goal is to learn to feel all of this happening and to gain control over your 
body in action.

THAT CERTAIN FEELING

Sung training has two major parts. Mind/body coordination and rooting skills. 
In the beginning, to train Sung we embark upon a process of consciously 
finding and relieving unintentional tension in the body in order to 
facilitate more freedom of movement and articulation of the joint structures. 
In short, becoming aware of the unnecessary and excessive tonus in our 
flexors and extensors and letting go of any tension that is unnecessary. Once 
we can do this we can let the body “settle” in with gravity and develop a 
dynamic stability called rooting energy.

We must not collapse to learn Sung. We strive for a harmonic but dynamic 
balance of flexion in the protagonistic muscles, coupled with an equal 
release and extension in the opposing antagonistic muscle structures. When 
correct kinetic equilibrium is achieved, the antagonistic muscles will be 
releasing tension in a balanced, dynamic action with the flexors of the 
protagonistic muscles. There will be achieved a true Baguazhang flow state in 
the action. The relaxing muscles will act like yin flowing smoothly in 
harmony with the flexing muscles, yang; just as in the Chinese philosophical 
principle of the Taiji symbolism.

The first part of Sung is mental and physical. You learn to feel these 
changes at all levels of muscular activity during your movements. This is no 
small feat, because Baguazhang is a dynamic and moving exercise and the 
muscles are constantly changing, relaxing, stretching, and flexing. This is 
one of the reasons for doing the form slowly. You have the time to use your 
mind to scan the body for areas where you are holding muscles (not used in 
the present action) that contain non-essential tension and to release it.

To attain Sung the mind must be disciplined. It is necessary to be fully 
present in the now moment. To be aware of each and every action you are 
making as you do the form. There must be, especially for the beginner, no 
distracting thoughts, no thoughts that bring on anxiety or tension.

Rooting and Sung

This statement again bears out the Chinese calligraphic concept of Sung being 
a pine. The pine is tall and straight. Most of its weight is in the lower 
trunk and the enormous root sunk deeply into the earth.

Sinking or rooting does not mean that you press the body downward into the 
earth. Sinking is more a psychophysical concept. It is correct posture. 
Standing straight like the pine tree and a letting go of tension in the upper 
body so that the weight is carried directly over the center of gravity line 
located in the pelvis. When you do this the body naturally sinks.

It is important not to equate sinking with compressing. Your spine should be 
lifting upward when sinking, with the vertebrae and other joints opening, not 
pressing together. If you compress the spine, then you can damage the shock 
absorbing disks between each vertebra. If you stretch the spine as you 
”sink”, you will increase their elasticity and strength, resulting in a 
suppler waist and flexible back.

The result of true Sung skill training is not limp or slack. Real Sung skill 
imparts the flexibility found in a good piece of spring steel or the sinuous 
body of a large serpent. It is not the wimpy image of a loose, flaccid silken 
rope that so many practitioners seem to try to emulate.

THE FIVE ENEMIES OF SUNG

1. Tension in the antagonistic muscles.
Muscles not directly used in the action must be as relaxed as possible, so as 
not to pull against those muscles creating the motion. For example, the 
biceps (protagonist) must flex when lifting the palm, while the triceps 
(antagonist) must relax and stretch. All skeletal muscles are paired in this 
way and they must act in this manner to function smoothly.

2. Tension in the protagonist muscles.
Muscles used in the actions must not be unduly tensed until the moment of 
use. To have full energy, a muscle must relax and stretch slightly and then 
contract. Excess tension in the protagonist muscle will inhibit sensory 
awareness.

3. Out of sequence entertainment.
To have any part move out of sequence interrupts the flow or proper sequence 
of concentration. This will reduce or negate the mental sensitivity in 
proportion to the power of the out of phase action.

4. Lack of proper stability.
If there is no solid foundation (stance) from which to launch the motion, the 
sensitivity will be unstable. Instability distracts the mind from it’s goal 
of feeling the actions.

5. Emotional tension, competing, or thinking of an opponent. 
Mental anxiety, the desire to win or succeed, can lead to excessive muscular 
tension in the beginning stages. For the beginner, a student who has learned 
the form and is now trying to do the internal sensing work of releasing 
excessive tension, thinking of an opponent or practicing applications of push 
hands will only retard his progress and lead to the use of excessive muscular 
force. This is because thinking of anything exciting or dangerous naturally 
produces a state of excitation in the nervous system, which is reflected in 
the musculature.

BOTTOM LINE

To develop Sung is to use your mind to learn to feel and adjust the way you 
use your body machinery. This awareness teaches us to clearly differentiate 
between the necessary and unnecessary use of your muscles as you move. In 
this way you eliminate the excessive tension of antagonistic muscle groups in 
any particular action. You learn to balance the body with the force of 
gravity. Your learn conservation of motion and develop a high level of 
stability. The release of conflicting muscle traction between protagonist and 
antagonistic muscle groups will result in greater blood circulation, joint 
flexibility, and fluidity of motion. You will also improve your kinetic 
alignments and potential for generating speed and power in martial 
applications. But, no matter how masterful you may externally appear to be in 
performing the forms, you will only get lost in the form if you believe that 
some day your Qi will begin to move your body!