Dawn. Time to get up and rush, rush, rush through another day.

Hurry! So many things to do.

Work, to make money.

Chores, to maintain what we have.

Errands to run, so we can buy more things.

Accumulate!

For what? To create more clutter and noise in our lives?

Too much mindless chatter on the TV.
Too many papers, objects and things demanding our attention and energy.

We have too many things and yet nothing of value.

What is valuable if not our health, peace of mind, harmony and serenity?

These things cannot be bought.

You can only accumulate serenity internally.

As John Lennon sang, and learned much too soon --

"the only thing you take with you is your soul."

The Tao -- the way -- provides true value. A path leading inward.

But it has always been said that

"the Tao which can be spoken of is not the true Tao."

With such a paradox at the core of this ancient philosophy, how can I hope to describe this inward path or provide insight into the mysterious and elusive Tao?

Zen Buddhists confront this same dilemma when asked to explain their path. They don't even attempt to explain it. In fact, a famous Zen parable relates that when a student asked how to attain Enlightenment, the Master simply pointed to the moon. This is interpreted to mean that we should not mistake the finger pointing at the moon as the moon itself; in other words, don't mistake talk of Tao as the real Tao. But, I wonder if there isn't another reason for pointing to the moon.

There is something we can speak of. The life force that surges through each and every living being. Taoists call this life force "chi" -- energy.

Our vital force -- the chi -- is oblivious to any belief system or scientific concepts. It simply is. Without energy we would cease to have movement or life.

Ancient sages observed that those with a strong life force, chi, lived longer and healthier lives than those with diminished energy. The Taoists studied and learned as much as they could about chi believing they could attain immortality. These methods became guarded secrets handed down from generation to generation. They learned to heal themselves and eventually became immune to "dis-ease" and death. Legend has it some of these sages -- Taoists -- do in fact, live forever.

In recent times, the secrets of the Taoists have been revealed. There are now thousands of volumes written about these ancient techniques referred to as

There are many variations of Tai Chi, some more complicated than others. But thanks to an American, who spent many years studying these various methods, we now have a special form of Tai Chi that is accessible to anyone. That man is Justin Stone who now lives in Albuquerque, New Mexico and the method is called

Justin tells us that just as reading a restaurant menu won't cure our hunger,

reading about Tai Chi Chih won't enhance our lives. Learning and practicing Tai Chi Chih will enhance our life force and provide these timeless benefits. We have reason to believe this man who at 84 years old is in excellent health and appears ageless.

The more you practice, the more you realize you would never want to live without Tai Chi Chih. Not because it's addictive, because it re-invents you.

I truly believe that each cell in my body is being invigorated and renewed. Soon, I will be an entirely different person. You will, too, because we are constantly in flux. While Western medicine teaches us to believe that we are aging and dying because our cells are deteriorating, through Tai Chi Chih you come to realize that instead of dying, your cells are being reborn.

I am being transformed and growing healthier each day. Tai Chi Chih brings balance, harmony and serenity. It creates health and reduces dis-ease.

That is the joy -- why Justin calls it joy through movement. It is. Knowing that as I move, I am emerging from my old cocoon. I am in awe of the process, and it is a process.

You can learn the movements in just a few weeks, but you will continue to discover new insights each time you practice. After all, it's the Tao. The Way.

The first time I tried Tai Chi Chih it felt interesting. A taste of what was to come. But over the next few days -- perhaps weeks -- I became stiff from trying too hard. I was too rigid and exerting too much effort. I heard Justin's words -- move softly, as though swimming through heavy air, but I wasn't doing that. I was struggling. My movements were strained and my muscles were tense. I experienced some pain, lower back pain and tension in my shoulders. Now I can see that was caused by stiffening my muscles and attempting to hold the various postures and stances. That is not necessary -- in fact, it's counter-productive. Perhaps that must be realized through practice. It was for me. Doing Tai Chi Chih does in fact teach you Tai Chi Chih, just as Justin says.

I am only three months into the practice, but I'm learning to understand and listen to my body. I can feel the tension and release it now. I am learning to move softly. There is a difference between moving softly and becoming limp. I also had to learn that -- the Yin and the Yang -- opposing points on a spectrum.

This "yinning and yanging" is part of the secret. There is a point in each movement where the yang, or strength, is felt. I perceive it as a point along the continuum from tension to relaxation. You build to a moment of strength and then relax again until you reach the opposing point of softness, like the waxing and waning of the moon. In fact, that is the image that inspired this essay -- the circularity and cycles of the moon.

The moon is simply the moon -- an orb in the sky. But from our perspective we see a form that is constantly changing. The moon appears to constantly move from the yang of the full moon to the yin of the new moon; a graceful cyclical, ever-changing process.

Justin says that one time while he was in the far East some monks invited him to stay and sit zazen (in meditation) with them. Justin noticed the sun was setting and he had a long way to travel. He told the monks he felt he should leave now while there was still some daylight. An old monk, the Master, said not to worry, to stay and sit. "After all," the master said,

"the Moon gives light too."

The moon's light is soft, not harsh like the sun. It is reflective light.

I am a reflection of All That is.

I am learning to embrace the moon.

Perhaps there is a reason why Zen Buddhists point to the moon,
and the Taoists simply smile --

-- ejm Albuquerque, NM

May 11, 2001

(c) Jamelle Morgan, 2001

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