Sometimes teachers feel as if they have to bequeath a pearl of wisdom upon their students in each and every single class.
The lessons I remember most were often pebbles carelessly dropped from the pockets of my teachers who most likely have no recollection of the things they said. It’s as if they plopped ideas into my psyche and the meaning didn’t make sense until the waves eventually rippled to the shore.
So when teaching a class allow the body to tell the tale. Let the posture be the plot and allow each individual to determine their own motivations. Let them breathe.
The practice isn’t a construct like a class. Practice is self guided, ongoing, never ending and ubiquitous with the individual. Class is something we must attend during a particular time frame. We must go to it and do as we’re told while we fear social scrutiny. Practice is lonely but free.
The student who stops and steps off the path to smell the roses, or one who crosses the river on a log while the others get their feet wet, that’s the student who will find their own way when the teacher is not around. Allowing them the freedom to find their own steps is wise enough. Let it happen without forcing or enforcing. Let it happen without words.
This short video show the relationship of the Five Elements.
Yesterday, I was at the University of Oregon. My partner was giving a workshop and I was on my own for three hours during which time I wandered through the on-campus graveyard and checked out the art museam. Then I spotted a group of people standing very still. It was a Tai Chi class.
After a Qigong warm up, the group began working through a form. I wanted to join them. I didn’t know their form but did know the movements—they were doing Yang style Taiji. I sat on a bench directly in front of them, well within view. I hoped the teacher would invite me to participate. He did not.
After several rounds I seemed to be making some of the group self-conscious. When the teacher turned his back to me and announced, “If you’re watching yourself do the form you’re outside of your body and not doing the form,” I decided to walk someplace else and practice alone.
Since I was not invited, I did not just jump in the back and start working with the group. What would happen if I did? Probably nothing. However, there was a time when I was in Beijing and spotted a small group practicing their morning exercises. I just took a spot in back and followed along. The expressions on their faces lead me to believe that I wasn’t welcome. They said nothing, as would be the way, and neither did I. Then I left. From that moment on I decided to always wait for an invitation. If there is no invite there is always plenty to learn from just watching and there’s never anything wrong with watching. Curious onlookers are to be expected when you practice in the park.