Tai Chi in the Modern World

When Professor Zeng performs taijiquan, it looks textbook perfect. There's a simple reason for this. Professor Zeng wrote the book. He was one of the editors of China's 1988 taiji compilation, an influential treatise for the development of modern taijiquan. Professor Zeng Nailiang (曾乃梁) is one of the founding fathers of modern taijiquan.

But what is modern taijiquan? It's almost oxymoronic as taiji is an ancient art. When "modern" is bandied about in Chinese martial arts, one can't help but think of modern wushu. Although Professor Zeng stands among the greatest modern wushu coaches ever, his notion of modern taiji is not at all limited to contemporary competition wushu. Zeng is on a mission to spread taiji around the world, not just to wushu athletes.

In Western pop culture, taiji is bunched with yoga as a new-age alternative health regimen. Yoga has firmly secured itself as a fixture in health clubs, especially fashionable with the female demographic. Meanwhile, taiji has been quietly stepping into hospitals, physical therapy clinics and senior centers as a low-stress form of exercise. In this way, just like its yin nature, taiji has crept into America quietly like shadows growing at dusk.

The American view of martial arts is still very limited. When it comes to martial arts, America likes it yang. MMA has usurped the spotlight, and that's about as yang as martial arts gets. Taiji won't help you one bit in the cage. But once the average practitioner outgrows the tattooed fighters and the bikinied ring girls, MMA is impractical as a lifelong practice. Granny will never learn how to sprawl and deliver a rear naked choke. Our youth-driven culture doesn't consider martial arts as a form of recuperative therapy or a practice for the elderly and invalids, but there lies its greatest power. When it gets right down to it, it is this community that needs martial arts the most. Weaker individuals need martial arts, not just for self-defense but for general health maintenance. Facing a trained fighter is one thing. Only a select few will ever step into the cage. Fighting off the challenge of aging is another thing entirely. Most everyone will face the pitfalls of their autumn years.

Despite all the media attention, there are far more taiji practitioners than MMA practitioners. They just aren't as conspicuous. Taiji is the most practiced martial art in the world today. When you add up all those grassroots practitioners in the hospitals and senior centers (a growing demographic as life expectancy increases and medical costs rise), then include all the students in adult education and junior college classes (as taiji is offered in almost every upper school catalog), plus factor in the millions of Chinese who practice it daily, the total sum of taiji practitioners may well be greater than all the other martial arts combined.

At age 70, Professor Zeng remains an inspiration. He travels the world, sharing his taiji knowledge freely and joyfully, propounding the taiji way. "To teach," quips Zeng in Mandarin, "you must have a passion for the arts." As taiji expands westward, it faces plenty of cross-cultural challenges. Most westerners only know martial arts by the media images: fighting in the cage, in the movies or on the street. In the East, martial arts are cultivated as an art and a discipline. It isn't just about results. Winning belts and starring in films are only for the top exponents. It's not only about surviving a street fight. How many street fights do you get into exactly? If the number is high, you should reconsider your life. Martial arts are about personal refinement.

"Taiji is a martial art," states Zeng emphatically, "but it also has health benefits. It's good for social exchange and a great preventative. Most people practice now for health. They still want some combat skills. We cannot omit the combat applications. If you take out the combat, it's more like dance or gymnastics. But in modern times, performance and health are on the rise and combat declines." Being form-based, taiji doesn't break up into easily-digestible components for classes like most other health club fitness programs like aerobics, weight training or even yoga. Taiji must be studied from beginning to end. While there have been some reformations to simplify taiji, it still takes time. There are no shortcuts. The word "cultivation" comes from farming. It takes time to till the land and produce a harvest. From fast food to Twitter, American culture is speed-oriented. Time is a commodity in short supply, so who has the time to practice taiji?

Culture follows fad, and over the last several decades different styles of martial arts have come in and out of fashion. Many wonder how much longer MMA will retain the spotlight. It's clearly here to stay, but will it remain the most popular expression of martial arts in the ever-fickle public eye? Or might the popularity pendulum swing in the other direction, towards the yin, towards taiji? For Professor Zeng, the slow and steady rise of taiji corresponds to its intrinsic nature. Taiji skill comes gradually over time. It's a quiet, reflective art that treads softly in the shadows, foregoing the spotlight of today in hopes of a brighter tomorrow.

(Extracts from an article "Putting Balls in to Tai Chi" by Gene Ching with Gigi Oh - Kung Fu Tai Chi Magazine March/ April 2012)