Move With What Is Ready to Move
For many years, one idea kept returning in different forms through my practice of Tai Chi, my reading of Lao Tzu, and some of what I learned from Zen.
Eventually, I reduced it to two lines:
Don't use yang against yang.
Follow the yin and use small yang.
I have used those words for a long time.
But they have become more important to me as I have gotten older.
In the language of yin and yang, yang is active. It pushes, changes, and makes things happen.
Yin is more receptive. It notices, allows, follows, and makes room.
So when I say not to use yang against yang, I am reminding myself not to meet every force with more force, and not to meet every action with reaction.
And when I say to follow the yin and use small yang, I do not mean becoming passive or doing nothing.
I mean starting by noticing the shape of what is already happening.
Move with what is ready to move.
Then add only enough effort to help something happen.
This idea has been part of my Tai Chi and Qigong teaching for a long time, even when I described it in other ways.
The 70% rule was one example.
Instead of stretching, moving, or practicing at the edge of what you could do, I often encouraged people to stay comfortably within their limits.
Practice did not have to be forced to be useful.
But over time, I began to see the same principle outside individual movements and exercises.
It could apply to the practice itself.
When my interest in learning more Tai Chi styles began to fade, I could have pushed myself to keep studying.
I didn't.
When I no longer wanted to maintain everything I had learned, I could have treated that as a problem and worked harder to preserve it.
Instead, I let much of it go.
What remained was smaller, but it was also closer to what I actually wanted to practice.
These days, Qigong often fits naturally before my strength routine, so that is where I use it.
Tai Chi often feels right afterward, so that is where it goes.
I do not need either one to occupy the place it once held in my life.
I am approaching walking in much the same way.
I used to walk and hike for many miles.
After years of not walking regularly, I could have decided that getting back to those old distances was the goal.
Instead, I started with the walks that were ready now.
Half a mile was enough.
Then a little farther when a little farther felt right.
There is still effort involved.
I still have to put on my shoes and go outside.
But the effort works with what is already happening instead of trying to overpower it.
The same principle can move in the other direction too.
Smaller Practice is not a rule that says everything should always become smaller.
Sometimes an interest grows.
Sometimes you want to walk farther, become stronger, explore a movement more deeply, or bring something new into your practice.
If something is ready to grow, there is no reason to hold it back simply because smaller sounds better.
The question is not whether you are doing more or less.
The question is whether you are working with what is actually there.
I think that is one reason my practice has become smaller without feeling diminished.
I am no longer asking it to remain the size it once was.
I am also not asking it to stay small.
I can let it change.
I can notice what still interests me, what has fallen away, what is returning, and what seems ready for a little more attention.
Then I can add enough effort to help it along.
Sometimes less is enough.
Sometimes a little more is ready.
Either way, I do not have to force the practice into a shape it no longer wants to take.