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Second Step: Fundamentals, Fundamentals, Fundamentals

TAI CHI RAY’S NOTES · NO. 4

If the first step is to stop chasing after new movements, the second is to return to the fundamentals—again and again. In Tai Chi, going deeper often means discovering more within what appears to be simple.

IN THIS NOTE

What Does “Going Deeper” Mean in Tai Chi?
Jing and Song: Can You Keep Them Under Pressure?
Second Step: Fundamentals, Fundamentals, Fundamentals
Learning Tai Chi Without a Mirror
Yì (意): More Than Intention
Training From the Inside Out

What Does “Going Deeper” Mean in Tai Chi?

If we stop chasing after new movements, what exactly are we supposed to deepen?

In my last note, I wrote about the first step of practicing Tai Chi in a traditional way: rather than constantly chasing after new movements, we can spend more time deepening the movements we already know.

This does not mean that learning a Tai Chi form has no value. For beginners, following a complicated sequence can itself demand concentration and quiet some of the mind’s constant chatter. But I still believe that beginners benefit greatly from returning to the fundamentals and key movements again and again.

So what does “going deeper” actually mean?

Those who have practiced with me for years may have discovered that even a seemingly simple Tai Chi movement contains layer after layer of practice. A movement involves not only its outward shape, but also a calm and focused state of mind (Jìng 靜), a relaxed but ready body (Sōng 鬆), the shifting of weight and gravity through the feet, efficient muscular engagement, whole-body coordination from feet to fingers, and breathing.

Each of these can be practiced—and deepened—for a lifetime.

Jìng and Sōng: Can You Keep Them Under Pressure?

It is one thing to be relaxed and calm while standing still. Can you remain that way when something disturbs your balance?

Wuji (無極) standing practice is one way we cultivate deeper levels of Jing and Song. But experiencing calmness and relaxation while standing alone is only the beginning.

The real test comes when circumstances change.

During push-hands practice, for example, another person applies force and challenges your balance. Can you remain Jing and Song instead of immediately becoming tense or panicked?

Tension is a habitual reaction when we begin to lose balance. Yet excessive tension can make the body rigid and interfere with our ability to reorganize ourselves.

The same principle applies when we generate force. If your partner becomes momentarily unbalanced, do you rush forward with your arms, or can you maintain the connection from your feet through your body to your hands?

Moving one part quickly may appear faster, but Tai Chi asks a different question: Can the whole body participate without unnecessary effort?

You do not need to practice push hands to recognize this problem. Think about suddenly losing your balance on a moving train, or having to push or pull something heavy without preparation. Remaining calm, responsive, and organized under unexpected pressure is difficult.

Once you recognize that, you have already discovered what “going deeper” means.

“The real test is not whether you can be relaxed when nothing is happening, but whether you can remain relaxed and responsive when your balance is challenged.”

Second Step: Fundamentals, Fundamentals, Fundamentals

Going deeper does not always mean doing something more advanced. Very often, it means returning to something more fundamental.

Tai Chi practice asks us to look inward and become increasingly sensitive to the relationships among different parts of the body during movement.

This is why fundamentals matter so much.

A movement that appears simple from the outside may require awareness of weight, balance, joint relationships, whole-body coordination, breathing, relaxation, and intention at the same time.

The purpose of fundamental exercises is therefore not simply to “warm up” before doing the real Tai Chi.

The fundamentals are Tai Chi.

“The fundamentals are Tai Chi.”

Learning Tai Chi Without a Mirror

What changes when we stop asking, “How do I look?” and begin asking, “How does my body feel?”

Interestingly, in the traditional way I learned Tai Chi, there was no mirror.

When I began learning from my grandfather at the age of seven in a park, there was no dance studio and no wall of mirrors. I once complained that I could not see his front and back at the same time, and I did not know whether my arm was at the correct height.

He smiled and told me to use my heart to see and absorb. If I needed another view, I could simply move to a different angle and observe him again.

Then he told me something I still remember:

“Eyes can see movements, but only the heart can absorb the intention—Yì (意)—behind the movements.”

Yì (意): More Than Intention

We can copy the shape of a movement with our eyes. But can we copy what gives that movement purpose?

Yì (意) is often translated as “intention,” but the English word does not capture its full meaning in Tai Chi.

Yì is not simply thinking about a movement. It is a focused, embodied intention that organizes the body toward purposeful action.

Every Tai Chi posture has an outward movement, but it also has direction, structure, and martial meaning. The visible movement is the external shape; Yì gives that shape purpose.

Without Yì, a sequence of Tai Chi movements can easily become choreography: visually recognizable, perhaps even beautiful, but disconnected from the intention that originally organized the movement.

Relative Position Instead of the Mirror

My grandfather taught me to use relative body positions rather than visual appearance alone. In one position of Cloud Hands, for example, one hand is above the eyebrow while the other is below the navel. These relationships give the body internal reference points that do not depend on a mirror.

The martial intention matters as well: the positions are not arbitrary shapes. They relate to protecting vulnerable areas such as the head and groin.

In a real confrontation—or simply in an unpredictable environment—vision may be obstructed, lighting may be poor, the ground may be uneven, or events may unfold too quickly for conscious visual analysis.

By developing body awareness and tactile sensitivity, we become less dependent on constantly looking at ourselves to know where our bodies are. Your whole body becomes your eyes.

“Your whole body becomes your eyes.”

Training From the Inside Out

Instead of asking, “How do I look?” begin asking, “How does my body feel?”

Modern physiology uses the term proprioception for our ability to sense the position and movement of our body without having to look at it. Tai Chi practice can place unusual emphasis on developing this internal awareness alongside tactile sensitivity.

Rather than depending entirely on vision, we learn to feel posture, balance, alignment, and movement from within.

Consider a fundamental exercise such as Tai Chi vertical circling. The movement should not occur only in the hands. The wrists, shoulders, shoulder blades, waist, hips, and ankles participate in coordinated relationships.

If your shoulder does not circle smoothly, or your shoulder blade feels stiff, the answer is not necessarily to move on to a more advanced form. It may be to return to a simpler fundamental exercise and investigate what is happening there.

The same applies to a simple arm swing. If the arm swings by itself, we are practicing an isolated arm movement. In Tai Chi, the movement begins with changes in weight and the relationship with the ground, then travels through the body.

Two questions can therefore serve as useful tests:

Where did the movement begin?

Did the whole body participate?

Conclusion — Return to the Fundamentals

The first step is not to chase after movements.

The second step is to return to the fundamentals—again and again.

Going deeper in Tai Chi does not necessarily mean accumulating more techniques. It can mean becoming more sensitive to what is already happening within a simple movement: your state of mind, relaxation, weight, structure, coordination, breathing, and intention.

Over time, this way of practicing changes the question.

Instead of asking:

“What movement should I learn next?”

we begin asking:

“What am I still not feeling in the movement I already know?”

That question can keep us practicing for a lifetime.

Till next time!

About the Author

Raymond Lee

Tai Chi Ray

Raymond Lee (Tai Chi Ray) is a Tai Chi teacher, martial arts practitioner, and writer who has been teaching and sharing Tai Chi in New York since 2017. He began practicing martial arts at the age of seven and grew up in a family with more than five generations of involvement in Traditional Chinese Medicine. Ray explores Tai Chi through structure, coordination, awareness, natural movement, and the integration of body and mind. His work seeks not only to preserve traditional principles, but to make them understandable and meaningful in contemporary life.

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