Laozi's Daodejing in Taijiquan

Taijiquan is a Chinese martial and health art that has matured over the centuries and has a high philosophical and spiritual content. Its principle is, how could it be otherwise, the Taiji principle. The Taiji principle, in turn, is the interplay of Yin and Yang. And even though the terms Yin and Yang only appear once in it, the Daodejing is the spiritual father of taijiquan. For it is precisely in this work that we find all the basic lines drawn that would later give rise to Daoism and, among other things, Taijiquan in China.

Within religious Daoism, which was founded by Zhang Daoling based on a vision of Laozi from 142 AD, Saint Wei Huacun (252 - 334) was also active. With the work she left behind, Huangtingjing, she significantly influenced General Chen Wangting, who lived in the 17th century, to establish what we call Taijiquan today.

It is therefore clear that the Daodejing is not only an invaluable book of wisdom, which is rightly the most translated book in the world alongside the Bible, but it should also provide us Taijiquan practitioners with a wealth of practical advice on the spiritual components. But why does the Daodejing appear to us Western readers to be related to and philosophically close to Taijiquan, but in practice we do not recognize any direct training instructions, apart from a few headings?

The reason for this lies in the fact that we generally do not have the opportunity to study the original in detail, and even more so the original characters and their meanings at the time. However, if we do, we will find that it is not only the Chinese original as such that provides us with immeasurably valuable information for our training. It is also the sub-meanings within the individual characters, the radicals that make up each character, that provide us with extremely profound instructions. The very first character, Dào 道, should serve as a brief introduction.

While the layperson can find the meanings "way, principle, method, truth, etc." in the dictionary, it is up to the experienced observer of the symbol to recognize a map of inner transformation and thus an instruction for our practice. In addition to the radicals 185 for "head", shǒu 首, and 162 for "walk, feet or path", chùo 辶, we also discover two eyes 丷 in the sign Dào, which look at a horizontal line 一 according to the Daoist view. In Chinese, this line represents the number one, Yi. Below it we find the symbol for "self", zì 自, and to the left of it the symbol for feet, or a path to be covered: chùo. Taken together, this not only means that the path is the goal (the head, whose eyes look to where the mind has already arrived, but the path still leads us), but also:

Looking at the unity that can be found within ourselves is the way to achieve the Dao. Our training must therefore include introspection and the development of our inner powers. From here we have to start our path in order to finally arrive at the "Highest Ultimate", Taìjí 太極, through our practice.

For example, let's look at the lines in the very first verse:

無名天地之始. 有名萬物之母.

Non-existence I call the beginning of Heaven and Earth.
Existence I call the mother of individual beings.

Here we recognize a point at which "non-being" merges into "being". In other words, there is a moment that the two share in that it represents the gateway between the two. "Beginning" Shǐ 始 and "mother" Mǔ 母 both denote a moment of beginning. The former is the beginning of the "being" Yǒu 有, the latter the "hour of birth" of material things and beings Wànwù 萬物.

Shi shows on the left the radical 38, nǚ 女, a kneeling or standing woman with breasts or - as I learned at university - a female sexual organ and next to it on the top right the radical 28, sī 厶, among other things "private, secret, gate" and below it radical 30, kǒu 口, "mouth, opening", together tái 台, etymologically "to speak (here: to shout)". In other words, we have the triple meaning of a gate from which something "secret", i.e. hidden/previously invisible, emerges. Figuratively like a child that cannot be seen in its mother's womb and which now emerges (and "cries out" according to the sign). In this case, "beginning" in the sense that something that has not yet appeared, i.e. nothingness, wú 無, appears.

Laozi calls this nothingness that has appeared "heaven and earth" (tīandì 天地). They are the two polar elemental forces Yīn and Yáng. When these elemental forces interact with each other, the 10,000 things/beings (wànwù) are conceived from this: Mǔ 母, "mother", again shows nǚ 女, but now with two dots symbolizing the (breastfeeding) nipples of a woman. In this case, "mother" also stands for beginning, but not only denotes the moment of giving birth, but also that of nourishing. In other words, the beginning of something that is just appearing and is transitioning into the moment of becoming (nourished). We therefore recognize a proximity of meaning and intersection between shǐ 始 and mǔ 母, but at the same time also a temporal progression, which in this context describes the emergence of being (yǒu 有) from nothing (beginning) and then being in its materializing and nourishing function (mother) of the 10,000 things/beings. Thus the sequence Wǔ - Yǒu - Wànwù: non-being - being - things/beings.

The concentrated reader may recognize that the state of pure being is therefore a non-moment in the sense that something from being is already appearing at the same moment. It is therefore the eternal pure consciousness or the gateway between nothingness and space and time. Therefore, pure being is still a nothingness from which "is" (linguistically correct: will be) in the immediate, even the same moment. In other words, a moment that is not yet, but in which it can no longer be prevented from being (and with it everything in it):

In the realm of pure being, where nothing is yet manifested, but from which everything that exists manifested emerges, we recognize the true and original beginning: the moment where nothing is yet, but nothing can be "done" about the fact that in the very next and seemingly same moment "will be". This moment of being, between nothingness and appearance, is originally referred to as Taiji. It is therefore not surprising that there were times when the term Taìjí was also used for a supreme and, in the truest sense of the word, fundamental God. Just as this moment describes the very first moment of the creation of the universe, we experience it in every single moment of our lives. We are constantly in the situation of wanting to react to a previous impulse.

And there is always the moment when no action has yet taken place, but nothing more can be done to prevent it from happening. To put it simply: there is the decision to want to do something, and this decision (at whatever level it was made) is then followed by the action. If we look at it very subtly, we discover the moment when the decision can no longer be reversed, but the action has not yet taken place - although it inevitably will. In other words, precisely the moment of the absolute beginning of every movement, every thought, every reaction, etc. We are therefore in the moment where nothing is yet, but something will inevitably be in the next moment. If we as martial artists want to thwart an attack, it is advisable to do so as early as possible. At the outset, as its power has not yet developed. As a rule, this is done through vigilance and speed. This is also the case in Taijiquan. In practice, however, this ability is not achieved through speed training, but exactly the opposite: through slowed-down movement. This makes it possible to feel ever closer to this very original moment. And if I am increasingly able to perceive this in myself, I will also be able to recognize it in the other person, supported by my pushing hands training. As this is not possible in principle without training, this in turn puts me in a position to be able to perceive the other person's movement even before they themselves become aware of it. This allows me to anticipate them.

To anticipate means to counter its movement after it has been irretrievably exercised, but before an external movement has actually occurred. To put it simply and literally: in the very first approach. However, this is so "very first" that only intuitively trained perception and one's own unhindered approach to movement are able to perceive this process and to have already adequately (re-)acted on it in the same non-moment, or rather: to have flowed with it.

This explains the classic sentence: "The opponent isn't moving, I'm not moving. The opponent is moving, I'm already there." But don't worry, since my movement also takes time, it ends, as I said, at the beginning of the other person's movement. In other words, I start where nothing seems to be visible yet, but I end in the visible, i.e. in the movement of the other person. I therefore still start second, but arrive first.

This allows me to achieve a martial art that is completely defensive, as it can never unfold without a previous attack - but this is where the most effective offense takes over. Because wherever the other person wants to move, we are already there before them. Even if we have only started (albeit very shortly) after him!

What does this mean for our form training? Let's start from the preparatory position. Our feet are shoulder-width apart, we correct our posture and come to rest. We now begin to move from the maximum possible calmness of mind. But how does this happen? This is exactly where we recognize the connection described above: there is a beginning, a moment in which I have decided to make the movement. But not in the sense that I resolve to stop smoking after New Year's Eve. But in a very concrete and immediate way. In other words, the innermost moment when the "command to move" has already been irrevocably set in motion, but a movement has not yet taken place, even in its beginnings, but can no longer be revoked.

Then, in the very next moment, the movement begins. We raise our arms. The first Taiji figure is created. Apart from the fact that we naturally breathe in the preparatory position, our heart beats, blood flows and so on, so we would be far from a state of non-being, we still have a connection to the state that we call "Wújí 無極", precisely because of our ever more refined body centering and the ever deeper calming of the mind. From this state, Taìjí, Yīn-Yáng, begins by creating movement out of nothingness (Wú 無). The movement now brings everything into appearance and manifestation.

Being arises from non-being and this being creates/nourishes the manifest ("individual being"). Out of "non-being" arise (immaterially) "heaven and earth". In their union, these create all (material) "individual beings". The sky creates them, the earth nourishes them.

However, we must not stop here and believe that we only have this state of the original beginning during the transition between the preparatory position and the first formal figure. We must recognize that we have this moment in every new movement approach. In other words, when the arms have reached shoulder height and we want to lower them again, we will experience the same moment if we pay enough attention. The same happens afterwards when the hip rotation begins and so on. On further observation, we then realize that this movement approach does not arise every now and then when we have to make a new decision, so to speak. Instead, it is contained in every single moment, right down to its smallest unit. Every movement, no matter how small, has this impulse and this beginning in advance. So every micro-movement, no matter how small, arises out of nothingness (Wú), has this irrevocable beginning (Taìjí/Yǒu) and thus comes into manifest being (Wànwù).

If, without neglecting the resulting flow, we can observe this process attentively throughout the entire form, we realize that this is generally the case in our lives, always and everywhere. Every thought, every action, every event has its cause in something that preceded it, but needs that one moment where it is not yet, but absolutely will be in the next moment.

Not only can we better protect ourselves from harassment through the experience of our form training, but we also realize that if we want to talk about birth and death, we have to see everything in a much larger (actually smaller) context: Every single event in my life, everything I do and think, is born in this described moment and also passes away at the same moment, since the action performed (even in the very smallest) dies, as it were, at the moment it happens and cannot be repeated, i.e. repeated again. Birth and death always occur at the same moment and are therefore at one and the same point.

Nevertheless, we experience a continuum of our being. So there is a continuum, i.e. time, and there is a space in which it takes place. It is therefore illogical (even without having had a mystical experience) for this continuum to be limited to our present existence. Because if this continuum were limited to my physical birth and my physical death, then the individual thought, the individual action could also "be of the opinion" that it is not part of a larger whole, but only stands separately in this here and now. But then there would be no flow. Then there would be no principle of cause and effect, i.e. one action would not be related to the other and meaning would not be possible. Time would not be possible, space would not be possible.

Let's look at verse 4, for example:

道沖而用之或不盈.

The DAO is forever flowing.
And yet it never overflows in its effectiveness.

If the Dao is "always flowing", then there is meaning. Because there is a sequence of events. In other words, there is development. But the essence of this flow is empty. We know this not only from religion, but now also from physics: the essence of every phenomenon is emptiness. From this emptiness it comes into existence and in this emptiness it also disappears again. We saw above that this happens in every moment, no matter how small. A single life span is therefore infinitely small, but due to the incessant flow it goes on forever. All past, present and future lie in one and the same point and yet they are perceived as flowing in time and space. For the manifested things and beings (Wànwù) reflect the potential of non-being (Wú). Or vice versa: this entire potential, which lies in this single "point" outside of time and space (which is therefore not even a point), i.e. in this nothing, or is nothing, manifests itself through and within being in the "10,000 things and beings" ("individual beings"/ Wànwù), in the time and space that thereby arise. Non-being and being or the manifestations arising from them are therefore the same in nature and "differ only in name":

此兩者同出而異名

Both are one in origin and different only in name. (Verse 1)

We can already see the connection between the two in the character used by Laozi for "streaming", 沖, chōng, which can also be written 冲. We see a box, wéi 囗, which describes a "fence or boundary" (also kǒu, 'mouth'), which has a vertical straight line丨(shù, or as radical 2: gun/gǔn, "stick") running through the middle of it, thus denoting the center. To the left of it we find the radical 85, shǔi 氵, which stands for "water". The water in the middle of a river flows.

But in addition to the emptiness of all phenomena described above, on closer inspection we also recognize emptiness precisely through the river: because the special thing about a river is that it is never the same at any moment. It is the symbol of constant change. As everything is constantly flowing, not only is nothing the same as it was before, but it is also never tangible or fixed at any point in time. In other words, nothing in this flow has permanence. If I now look at the river under a microscope, so to speak, I also recognize the constant transformation and change of each of its individual components. If I then look at the outer world, I realize that this constant transformation also continues in the large entities that have formed from the small ones. We can therefore confirm the sentence: "The only constant is change."

Both phenomena, i.e. on a large and small scale, can not only be thought through with the mind, but also experienced through deep and subtle meditation. Therefore, if there is nothing tangible or solid in either the big or the small, we can say that there is ultimately nothing (permanent). Because we cannot define anything fixed, no fixed point. In the same way, we cannot record or hold on to our lives, one moment follows the next and we are part of this flow, experiencing event after event, thus having a meaning and yet everything is empty (not permanent) at the same time. What better way to observe and examine this, but also to feel, experience and witness it, than in our Taiji form. We observe how movement is incessantly strung together.

This may seem more symbolic at first, because we could stop moving. But does movement really stop as a result? What about our breathing, our heartbeat, our blood circulation - does the world stop turning because we seem to be holding still, which we can't do at all?

In this observation of the flowing elements of form, I recognize the unstoppable flow from event to event. I cannot hold on to the moment, I can only experience it. So, over time, I sense an emptiness in it, which, however, carries within it a great fullness:

大盈若沖其用不窮.

Great adundance must appear as if flowing, thus it becomes inexhaustible in its effect. (Verse 45)

It is the same with the (naturally identical) emptiness, which I see as the background behind the movements, i.e. as the stage on which the transformation takes place. So I always experience both in my Taiji form: Wuji and Taiji, non-being and being, manifested in the 10,000 things/beings, i.e. shapes/forms and movements, to which we ourselves also belong. Here is another nice way of explaining the relationship between non-being and being: let's take the other spelling of chōng 沖: 冲, where we find the three strokes on the left as just two. Here we now have the radical 15 on the left, bīng 冫, which stands for "ice". Huizhang Ren Farong explained it to me from his Daoist point of view as follows: If you see yin and yang in the two strokes and they come to the center, i.e. harmonize to the last, then they dissolve into each other like particles and antiparticles and form the one original energy again. In this way, the emptiness reappears (symbolically the unmoving ice), in which everything potentially exists - not manifested in the one original energy of the Absolute (Dao).

We can also discover and cultivate this truth in our form training if we observe the movements closely in their emergence and decay and at the same time do not interrupt the flow not only of the individual figure sequence to the next, but of each individual movement element to the next. With deeper practice, we then experience emptiness as the reason and the flow of movement based on this. In other words, non-being and being in one and the same moment, like a screen and a movie. Of course, at the beginning of the training this means that we first have to learn the figures adequately and then reach a level of movement that allows all changes to be smoothly propagated into one another.

In the beginning, we do this in a rather choppy and superficial way. But over the years we find this connection of flowing energy down to the smallest movement tendency and can thus create an uninterrupted flow from the deepest inside to the outermost movement. In this way we harmonize Yin and Yang. By harmonizing yin and yang, we find peace. Through greater calm we can feel more deeply, we can hear the "whisper" of our body. This allows us to harmonize yin and yang on a deeper level. This transforms calmness into stillness. This allows us to perceive more deeply again, to harmonize even more deeply and to move from our spiritual stillness into a spiritual emptiness, which in turn allows us to recognize the emptiness of movement.

Through the flow of movement and precisely through the ever more subtle subtlety of the ever more primal flow up to the perception of its emptiness, we can therefore recognize the entire world law, which of course takes place constantly not only here, but in all events of time and space based on the source of non-being.

Being able to perceive the continuous flow of life - from its source of nothingness - can be described as the highest goal of spiritual development in Taiji form training.

The fact that it "never overflows in its effectiveness" can give us a very practical indication of how to keep our Taiji movements within the framework of their efficiency. After all, this flow can only be felt when the movements are performed with the correct structure and centeredness. Any leaning over ("overflowing") is always too much and hinders the flow of energy in our body and therefore also its strength and our perception of it. The more freely the Qi energy flows, the more powerful it is, the more strength is available and the easier it is for us to feel it.

This efficiency is also evident in combat when it comes to transferring power or absorbing power unharmed. Here too, the interplay within the unity, now in the sense of physical/spiritual centeredness, and the resulting dualism, i.e. the movement taking place in unity (yin-yang), forms the basis of every skill and every insight. I therefore achieve the highest (also martial) efficiency through flowing, unhindered movement in which the centered unity is not lost. This is the wonderful connection and interdependence of the aspects of "Waisanhe" and "Neisanhe": the three external and the three internal connections of Taijiquan.

Our training therefore mirrors the process of life, its origin and its meaning/Dao in a wonderful way. And not only that: it gives us an idea of how our infinitely eventful life is in turn just one event in the continuum of an infinite number of previous and further events.

Jan Silberstorff