March 4th, 2010 by karin

Chatter…One thought after another…Over-thinking…

My seemingly perpetual train of thoughts are loud and over-bearing. Going from one task to another, falling asleep at night, in my own taiji and qigong practice and certainly in my meditation practice. “Will I just shut-up already?” I ask myself.

Then there are the moments where I tap into the ‘zone,’ enjoying expanded awareness, experiencing a quiet mind and enjoying a renewed sensory experience of feeling, whole, as one.

It can be difficult and frustrating to duplicate reliably. And that’s not the point. Each experience of whole awareness will have its own inherent uniqueness. So, I’ve been keeping my eyes, ears…and body open to new approaches.

Recently, I came across an essay by John Selby, entitled “Beyond Kundalini Awakening”, in the book, Kundalini Rising, from Sounds True publishing. Describing himself as a “psychologist with a spiritual bent,” his life’s work has been “to explore the phenomenon of meditation from both the inside-out (subjective internal) and scientific perspectives, and to identify the primary psychological process that underlies all the world’s meditative traditions.” WHOA! As my 4 year old buddy and frequent play-mate would declare (though his declaration has more to to with BIG objects, not BIG ideas)! Mr. Selby is the author of several books and throughout his personal and professional research has studied in particular the idea of quieting the mind.

Now, wait. Taiji, meditation? Qigong, meditation? Aren’t we doing something here. It’s choreography, it’s martial application, it’s strength training, breath control, focus training….but meditation? Yup. Moving meditation. Meditation in movement. And that makes it hard. Quieting the mind is the access point to whole body awareness, to cultivation of energy, and connection to spirit.

Mr. Shelby identifies “meditation means quieting the flow of chronic thoughts.” But how? Even he describes that the traditional Buddhist practice of solely focusing on the breath “drives most people up the wall–thoughts keep returning to dominate your mind.” But he’s got mad skills, he has big ideas…

He put things to the test in multiple ways, “What I noticed was that certain perceptual experiences in and of themselves temporarily quieted my mind instantly, naturally and with no effort at all. You’ve noticed this as well–viewing a sunset…gazing at the rippling of the surface of a lake…tuning in to the breeze blowing on your face and the scent in the air; so does making love; so does a great meal or an engrossing concert; so, in fact, does any event that turns your attention toward two or more sensory experiences at the same time!”

He found, “It’s this second expansion of awareness that generates the inner shift in attention away from chronic thoughts to pure experience.”

Seriously? I want that! And I want to teach that to my students.

So I started myself. Bingo, it works pretty well. Tried it on some students. Yup. They noticed it too. Here’s a tool we can all use practicing whatever–Yoga, Pilates, Taiji, training for a triathlon, getting dinner ready for family, climibing a mountain, taking the dog for a walk, working the garden, folding the laundry, sending an email–it doesn’t matter what. Each moment that we can take to bring in whole sensory awareness, allow for two or more of our sensory experiences to be felt, will catapult us from the mundane thought motivated monotony into something real, substantial, meaningful and life-giving. The very life-force attraction and cultivation I seek in my own practice. Otherwise, why bother?

He says, “expand the awareness another crucial notch to include, at the same time, another sensory event.” Include. I like this. Not distract or change focus, but include more of your capacity to sense, rather than hyper-focus in one arena at a time. From this, “awareness shifts from point-fixation into ’seeing everything at once’ mode. And it’s this cognitive shift that quiets the mind.” YES! With two or more sensory experiences at a time he states, “you shift into that blessed present-moment condition in which your mind is quiet and you’re tuned in to your deeper intuitive aesthetic brain function instead.”

Taiji begs and requires the present moment. It is at the heart of the training for body, mind and spirit. Lucky for us, we have tools, research, and insightful minds like Mr. Selby and our teachers to guide us along the way. Pay attention. Not to the one thing, expand your scope. Breathe, see, listen, feel, experience the quiet and settling into one, whole, pure feeling of the moment.

You try. How does it feel?

PS. I don’t have any video or pictures of me in the moment of asking myself “Will you just shut-up already?” Lucky for you. I will now move into my next sensory experience… a nice homemade dinner.

meditation, practice, qigong, quiet mind, tai chi, taiji

September 28th, 2009 by karin

This past week of classes yielded a number of interesting dialogues in class–I love the conversations, questions and input that comes from our open investigations while studying!

I hear several common responses to learning a Taiji form for the first time…”Didn’t know how hard it was to walk,” in this case Taiji walking, the advancing or retreating step patterns. “Oh, I don’t need to take such a big step.” Or, “I notice that I’m straightening my arms, but you are not, didn’t you call this a ‘push’?”

My experience is that as students we see our teachers’ movements quite differently and focus in our own unique ways. Then, we also interpret those movements differently through our own kinesthetic awareness and unique body attributes. At first, we want to copy well, get it ‘right,’ and this usually leads to over doing a movement. Over extending in the arms, the legs or over thinking the process. Instead the forms ask us to relax, work from the inside out, rather than make shapes on the outside and hope that is good for the inside.

This lead to a dialogue of leaving reserves, when to leave a little something in reserve and when to consciously go fully into and through an area, which is generally while transitioning from one movement to the next. So, where to leave a little in reserve?

• First, we looked at the settling of the weight into the feet and legs or into the stance. Rather than going all the way into as deep a stance as we can possibly pull off, what if we only go so far that we know we still have a little depth of stance in reserve? Is this a good embodiment of the notion taking the ‘middle path’? Does it lead to longevity of training, by not over-doing? Like the ideal heart rate for cardio training that doesn’t seek to over stress the heart at the uppermost of the range, is there an ideal ‘leg rate’?
• Second, we investigated the amount of rotation over the hip joint in the pelvis. The ‘hip track’ concept or as I usually say, ‘folding into and towards the weighted leg’. For bow stances, we don’t need to go all the way into the rotation, in fact, that begins to disrupt the integrity of the leg structure if we are looking to remain in a fixed position. So, we need to leave some rotation in reserve, unless ready to change and transition. Then, what’s left is necessary for propelling us into the next movement. What’s left gives us a place to go to begin the process of changing into another stance.
• Third, we found the same idea applicable in the arms. What are the stances that support more open, lengthened arms, like ‘Single Whip’ and which stances support leaving more in reserve, not fully lengthening through the arms. The ‘push’ in ‘Grasping Sparrow’s Tail’ is an ideal example. The whole of the body supports the power of the push, through relaxed heavy elbows and open shoulders. If one extends forward straightening the elbows, the tendency to close off the shoulders becomes clear, and the push no longer has the structure of the body, only the external strength of the arms.

‘Leaving reserves,’ is also a valuable teaching for daily life. It might apply to an exercise regimen, to the checkbook, to the last little thing uttered out loud that might have been better left in reserve. I myself am finding more ways to apply this principle in daily life and in practice. The more I’m able to integrate it, the more energy stores I seem to feel, but anytime I go all out, blast my way through, I end up a little more physically or emotionally sore, tired, and mentally taxed than intended.

Another very interesting aspect in this week’s practice came up while teaching ‘Step Back, Repulse like Monkey.’ I’m always fascinated by the analogies we find in these movements. I myself have plenty that I find and talk about and I really enjoy learning new ones. My student announced, “It’s like tacking in sailing!” I was describing the process of the retreating step as a way of moving straight back, but by virtue of stepping to angles and adjusting the feet and hip positions accordingly. This is also true of the advancing step; one advances, not by stepping straight forward, but by using the structure that is created in stepping on angles.

So, I looked up tacking, because I don’t know anything about sailing. “To change direction by turning the bow through the wind” seems to be the simplest definition I’ve found. In the pictures there is a unique zigzag quality that has something in common with the stepping. I’m going to keep this analogy on the back-burner, maybe it has room to fill into, I’ll need to learn some more about it. At the very least, the notion of making progress in one direction or another, by way of a kind of specific meandering from side-to-side has peaked my interest…anyone else thought of this one before?

Finally, the week culminated in the Sustainable Ballard festival this weekend in the Ballard Commons Park. Good festival, you should come next year! The kids can see the urban goats and chickens; you can look into solar power or the CSA that delivers food by sailboat and bike; or you can talk to the likes of me about cultivating a Sustainable Body through practices like Taiji and Qigong. I had good conversations with many new people, some who tried Taiji back in the day, some who’ve always been curious, others who would like to add it into their off-season triathlon training regimen and plenty who would like more options for stress-relief!

Maybe the ideas from class this week are a few more ways to create sustainability in the body–leave some in reserve and, rather than head straight into the wind, utilize its power and meander a bit. We’ll get there eventually…

September 20th, 2009 by karin

Summer is over. My god-kids went back to school and so I guess I’ll follow suit and get serious. Serious about not only living the ‘thousandth part path’ and sticking to a principle based approach that nourishes my forms and my freedom, but also to the homework…the blogwork. My reflections, cud-chewing and absorption of the lessons from the past week. It has been an adventurous ride. New classes, new locations, like starting school for the first time…but over and over and over. First, I’ll start with the dream I had last night. The ole unconscious must have been working to get my attention because I had the same dream over and over and over, not unlike the feeling with so many new classes. My taiji nightmare of repetition had everything to do with an idea I was teaching this week in classes, and as these things go, also much to do with the simultaneous grappling of a hard-learned life lesson.

TRANSITIONS are difficult…! In taiji practice and in life, when ‘things get off the rails,’ how do the transitions between the ‘postures’ or what is happening in reality become harder, or even next to impossible? What are the things getting in the way? In my dream, I was either doing or teaching the same transition, from the end of “Raise & Lower Arms” into the next movement, without end. Never quite getting it right, something kept catching, either the way I was teaching, or more likely, simply the way I was doing the movement. “That’s not it. Not smooth enough. RELAX. I’m not getting the shifting of the weight well enough, I can’t quite move the foot the way I mean to. Nope. No. That’s not the idea, not there yet.” Over and over it went.

Like the dream, I realize what I’ve been teaching to and internally mulling over this week has everything to do with finding myself and seeing my students in a quandary, often stuck and uncomfortable in transition. Our studies this past week then focused on several key principles of practice and reflected differently to each of us our daily experience.

• Relax. The dreaded “R” word. Do we know what it means anymore? Is it possible to fully breathe if we can’t relax? Can my stepping be truly fluid if I can’t relax or if I’m not breathing? Can we stretch more fully, receive more deeply the information being conveyed, receive energy that’s available to absorb, manage the endless forces bombarding us if we are in a more relaxed state? Will the legs, arms, whole body move better with more relaxation? Will the mind BEHAVE better?

The answers to these questions are fairly clear, intellectually, but how to embody them? “Song”  is a Chinese word for relaxation, but apparently the English word “relax” doesn’t do the character justice. Louis Swaim’s translation says the character means ‘long hair that hangs down’ and also ‘pine tree.’ So our quest in classes became to allow the body to relax into its natural state, like strands of hair, hanging in their natural state…whether straight or curly, long or short, red or brown. Each one uniquely its own. And with that, the upright, strength of the pine tree that extends up to the sky without reaching, and whose branches hang easily without holding up or holding on. This is a very yin and yang combination of feelings in the body and what a difference it makes when it starts to take hold! For me, if I can sense my feet staying relaxed during practice, it is much easier to relax the other parts holding on for dear life. It is in the transitions that relaxation is necessary for grace, when we are literally changing from one state to the next and are most vulnerable.

• We discovered that we need to be even more aware of “over-doing,” “forcing,” or really just “trying to do the thing” at all! Instead, “allow,” “acquiesce,” “let go.” Yeah…not so much…to tuck  the tailbone, rather, are we able to release down through the length of the back, let go and allow the tailbone to hang down, the spine a kind of long strand of hair? And yes, the consensus is…It is harder!

When transitions are an obligation, an area that we just do, rather than an area still to experience, to allow to unfold, they become the very places that make us more vulnerable. If we can continue to move and experience with a sense of curiosity, actually sensing our way through the change of state, allowing and giving over to the process, then we may happily find ourselves well-equipped to be the change.  

• We also found that it would be useful to be AWARE of Balance & Imbalance before it is compromised to such a degree that it is overwhelming and frustrating. HA! Aware. The dreaded “A” word.

This comes up a lot for my incredibly young and vibrant ”senior” classes, because some have been told they have bad balance, or the literature has confirmed that “yup, your balance will get worse as you get older.” Maybe. And I repeat again, balance is a verb, it is something we do, not what we are. The more we do it, the better we are at it. Transitions are those times where balance is tested. In taiji, it is every time we take a step, advancing, retreating…certainly when we stand on one leg for kicks!

• Knowing when we are LEVEL, moving through our forms, moving through space in a level way. Knowing when we are REACHING, reaching for our step in the legs, reaching with the arms, reaching with the nose….reaching with the mind.

Learning to contain oneself, to not “bob up and down” during practice is very difficult. Yet, if mastered, it gives us so much access to strength and control. The additional rising and falling of “bobbing” contributes to each of these previous points and puts transition time in more jeopardy than is necessary. Over-reaching? Well, what can I say? Why over-reach, when the natural step is more sustainable? Why over-extend the arms if it creates tension?

Understanding these principles we see that transitions are our opportunity to deepen our awareness and embodiment of what it feels like to relax, to allow, to seek balance, without over-reaching. I will continue to feel them in my dreams, in my taiji practice and apply as best as I can to this unique gift of a life I have been given.

What about you? Is it woo-woo, mumbo-jumbo or can this stuff make a difference in your life too?

April 13th, 2009 by karin

Almost 3 weeks ago now, I sent this email out to close friends & family. It was the evening that we received our certificates, after a heartwrenching ceremony, and a long week. Sam hand-painted all of our certificates. Each with a different painting and each with a very different feel. It was a particularly proud moment for me and I’m grateful to Sam for his generousity.

Now the ‘Thousandth Part Path’ work really begins. Sam gave us the goods–it is up to us to do something with it. For myself, I have big plans to kick some taiji toosh & get my students and friends fired up about this work! Wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!

The email:

Dear friends, family, students, colleagues, teachers & mentors,

I have completed my 3 month Yang Style Taijiquan Full Curriculum Intensive in San Miguel de Allende, Mexico. Today.

Many have you have been in the loop since the planning started over 1 year ago, some have helped me through tears & trials, others with planning & preparation, and all with well-wishes of support.

It has required all of this heart-felt support to get me to this point and I’m grateful to you all for being a part of my life.

I am SO looking forward to getting back home.

I have much to give now to my students.

And I have a lot to keep working on!
My teacher, Sam Masich has given me my certificate in the following curriculum today:

• Gongli for Yang-style Taijiquan
        Standing Post
        Symmetrical push
        Breath Placement
        Gongli (strength, flexibility & conditioning training)

• Yang-style Taijiquan solo barehand forms
        108 Yang Style Taijiquan solo form
        37 Postures (& families)

• Yang-style Taijiquan Push Hands
         Eight preparatory exercises (‘1-8’; & mix of drills) (Ba Pan Jia Zi)
         Four-hands (Si-zheng Tui-shou)
           Fixed-step (forward & backward timing)
           Fixed-step freestyle 
           Moving-step (follow, cover, circle-walking)   Moving-step freestyle (leg changes)
        Large Rolling (Da Lü)
           Da Lü diagonal & square orientation
           Da Lü variations and freestyle

• Free sparring (San-shou)
        Taiji San-shou form (‘88’; & mix)
        Solo form/37 Postures applications
        Fighting Range theory & training
        Push-hands for sparring
        Free-sparring

• Yang-style Taijidao (Sabre)
       Sabre form 1 (Fu Zhongwen style)
       Sabre sparring drills (parries and attacks)
       Sabre two person routine (8 moves)

• Yang-style Taijijian (Straight-sword)
      54 Solo Straight-sword form
      Straight-sword two person drills (parries and attacks; sticking)
      Straight-sword free-sparring

• Yang-style Taijiqiang (Spear)
      Spear solo training
      Taiji 13 (binding) spear training
      Spear free-sparring
Whew!
I can barely express how much this all means to me and my fortune to return to such loving family & friends.

Looking forward to the hug when we see each other next.
With love,
Karin

April 13th, 2009 by karin

Back home now. Getting out of Mexico had a few quirks–more accurately took a few pesos to get a ’security’ guy in the border town of Neuvo Laredo to let me come home.

On the road, stopped in at the Grand Canyon. Gorgeous. Went through a sand storm & met my friend from Bordeaux, “Hiyak.” Sorry, not sure of the spelling….and if you see this “Hiyak,” get in touch! Look forward to hearing where you are now. We went through a good snow storm and into Zion together.

Anyone who has not gone to Zion should go. GO! It is extraordinarily beautiful. I’m heading back as soon as I can. And that was the highlight of the trip home. After that it was simply long days of driving to get back home. Frankie freaked out once we hit the Cacades & Willamette Pass. She could smell the sweet scents of home, rain, mildew, moss, green, dirt & big tree. I would have had my nose out the window too.

I’ve already gotten a handful of taunts, “What happened to your blog??” Yep, Jan, you were right. It was more than I could get done in a day. Instead I was working on things like the following piece. I wrote this for the PAWMA newsletter that just came out, Pacific Association of Women Martial Artists. They’ll be holding their annual camp this Labor Day Weekend in Olympia. Women & young women of all ages are welcome–sorry fellas. The camp is a great way to meet new friends in the martial arts and see the amazing variety that are out there. Visit their website at www.pawma.org.

Here’s the article:

Internal Arts Without Borders
On March 28, I finished a three month Yang Style Taijiquan Intensive in San Miguel de Allende, Mexico, taught by Sam Masich. I’ve been away a long time — left Seattle on December 22 in the worst snowstorm I’ve personally seen there, to drive over 3,500 miles, just me and my dog. Throughout it all (the stress, the planning, the risks, the driving, the naysayers), I’ve had to keep practicing. That doesn’t mean only my Taiji forms, it means also the Taiji principles, the real life lessons that training in my internal art is all about.

Before the Border

I was (and still am) thrilled with this opportunity and experience. The moment I heard about the Intensive, a series of events were set into motion that gave me the opportunity to change my life so that I could attend. So I changed my life, sometimes not so willingly. Being able to change, accept it and transform with it, are aspects of my art.

I spent almost a year preparing. I trained hard, efficiently and with spirit, and worked to understand the principles of my art. Then there was the preparation required to live in another country, have my home cared for, and keep my students in their classes and engaged in the process. There were those who said that Mexico is not a good place to go (too much violence and corruption), that it is too unsafe for a woman to travel alone, that it wasn’t the right career choice, that I would lose students, lose traction – too, too, loss, risk, unknown. “Ok,” I told myself, “calm down, relax and breathe. Don’t anticipate. Practice presence, be here now with mind, heart and body all connected and receptive.” Because I never questioned that attending this Intensive was the right thing to do, it was just a matter of crossing these boundaries.

At the Border

The border’s warnings, red tape and militia with high-powered rifles brought trepidation, I admit. I felt more fear around loss, risk, and the unknown. A principle in my practice is “Invest in Loss.” Ok, I thought, here I go. I can handle this. I don’t speak much Spanish, but my art teaches me to assess, be aware, see the truth and avoid danger. I can move quietly and quickly through place and circumstance. It was still frightening, but if I am honest about that, then I believe the right path will become apparent.

The night before crossing the border, my friend in San Miguel got a nervous phone call from me. “I don’t know, Bobby. Are you sure that ‘Tai Chi Sports Equipment’ is really going to be an okay term for the sabres, swords and spears I have?” He replied in his cool, jazz musician, American-resident-of-Mexico-for-over-30-years gravelly voice, “Don’t worry, baby. You don’t fit the profile.”

The next lesson: just keep going. Don’t stop to freak out. Don’t become motionless, stagnant or double-weighted. Go through the unknown with confidence, with ‘omni-poise.’ Be calm and pleasant. Don’t expend more energy than necessary. Be efficient and don’t crowd other people’s space. Using these principles of my practice, I got only greetings and smiles from the border patrol as I crossed the border.

Over the Border

There are contradictions and boundaries of all kinds here in Mexico: rich and poor, suffering and wealth, beauty and ugliness. It is hard-core training in and of itself to be here and take it all in.

The ‘real’ training in class was even more to handle, enjoy and survive with grace. Surprises came every day. I was required to tear down the boundaries to my Taiji and cross over into the unknown to make progress as a student and teacher in this art.

I am still, daily, reflecting on lessons from the first week. Every week, every day, each hour had its lessons. One big eye-roller came when, while practicing push hands, Sam reprimanded me. “Don’t over-reach to ‘support,’ or you’ll wind up resenting it. Be comfortable.” My inside voice replied, “Ain’t that the truth! Geez, he can feel that! Agh.” Good teachers are scary that way.

I continue to learn about walking into the unknown with faith in my training and that things will work out. I have a lifetime to learn that my Taiji, my experiences and my life do not need a border. I can cross any boundary I choose by using the principles of practice I learn and embody in my internal art. And, it’s always nice to have your dog and ‘tai chi sports equipment,’ too!

February 16th, 2009 by karin

Only 3 weeks later I get back to a post…this one about Taiji. “TA-DA.”

Since I’ve been yakking away about the bustling city of San Miguel, I have not put my attention to encapsulating the divine little lessons I’m learning into a post that isn’t out-there taiji lingo–i.e. the wonders of peng, jou-wan is so important we should talk about it first & how to shake your QIANG silly–or a monologue that verges into territory that is best taken to a therapy session. That’s taiji for ya, sometimes it is a little out there, got to get your head (and body really) wrapped around it or it just hits too close to the tender.

But first the ceremony, dos ceremonies as it turns out. Sam did an I Ching reading for this Intensive. He got #43 – Kuai “Breakthrough”. I think most of us took a deep breath upon hearing what the underlying current of this experience would be. I did. Good!! Breakthroughs are GOOD. That’s what I want. Leave a bunch of stuff behind and get on with the next. Hmm, breakthroughs are also usually difficult. Eh, still in. The character is Tui, the Joyous, Lake over the character Ch’ien, the Creative, Heaven. Nice combo, Happy Water, Creating Divine. I’m in. The meaning also signifies a breakthrough after a long accumulation of tension (ehem, cough, cough) like a swollen river breaking through a dike or like a cloudburst. Seeing as how we’re in the desert, this’ll be cool! Also, it refers to the influence of “inferior” people beginning to wane and that with resolute action change will occur. Sounds like a mantra we’ve been hearing in politics for a bit. This resolute action is meant to be based in strength and friendliness and that compromise with evil is just not possible–evil must be openly discredited. Our own passions and shortcomings should also not be glossed over. All that and a whole Taiji curriculum too…all in a few months. Whew.

Ceremony dos is with a traditional curandera. She blesses the beginning of our training with a complex combination of indigenous, pagan, and christian ritual with offerings, sounds, smoke and turning in all directions. We process to a cross in the park where we each give our offering of water, corn, flowers, a candle, whatever our role is. Here she is getting her things together to begin. Bobby (in the hat) stands by with the conch shell that he’ll have to play while Ken lends his support. 

We all stand in a circle with our objects, mine happens to be Frankie, but just because we had more hands than objects, she did NOT get offered up… 

 

 

 

 

 

Then we all got individually blessed. Even Frankie, what a lucky dog!

 

It is hard to distill these training days and that’s the truth. I come home too tired to piece it out. When I look at my page of notes from Day 1, I see the starred point that was made, “Oh man, that’s incredible!!” Ask the person next to you, “Did he ever say it like that  before?” Then look at the next paragraph–another big batch of stars and arrows. Don’t turn the page! Too many stars! It is taking time for me to make sense of each tree for the forest.And it is a BIG forest!! Each with a gi-normous tree of such magnitude it makes the bells toll.

Literally. Smart things are said by Senor Sam, and the bells will literally toll here in San Miguel to mark the occasion. We could have a fiesta every hour with the revelations we have to celebrate. And the bells will tell you, not all at once though. I think they time it so each church gets their own bell-tolling moment. Now there’s a post….hmm….ok, ok, back to taiji.

You had me on Day 2, could have been muttered by more than one person, if we weren’t had before that. 20 training days later and I’m still struggling with how to encapsulate. “Okey-doke, nuf’ said, thank you…might as well go practice THAT for the next 5 years”, let alone the mind-blowing curriculum connections & new techniques that comes an hour later.

So, I’m going to take my time putting to paper my taiji intensive experience because I can, it is the Way for me…and apparently, I have a slow absorption rate.

What I like most about Week 1:

~ Starting.

~ Being a part of this collective who really care about good taiji, outstanding training and will take risks to make it happen.

~ Learning without so many  responsibilities is AWESOME. I’m free to focus all my attention on learning, this is a gift! Not to be half here because I have to deal with this or get back to that because it is my job, my “responsibility”. The training, learning and practice comes first, without question, even though I could be a rampant tourist here. My ‘lack’ of responsibilities do break down, I admit, when I’m whistling at Frankie to not greet every single person, their kids, mothers and poodles, who may wander through. So there may be blips, and still, is is so fabulous to focus thoroughly and resolutely.

Week 1 was euphoric, as is usually the case. It is only when the struggles begin that you really learn who you are and how you handle. That comes later.

For now, reveling in the memory of euphoria.

January 25th, 2009 by karin

Jan says she likes the roof dogs….so this one’s for her.

Our neighbors across the street have a metal shop in their garage and 2 roof dogs. One is older, and they seem to be related. Sometimes they do their metal work out in the street, cutting things up and scattering sparks all over the cobbles. The roof dogs, their perros, drop their noses down and watch intently from above. When someone in their clan walks up the street, their tails wag and they sometimes whine a greeting. They like to sit on this ledge…here’s the younger one.

They get busy at times running around on that roof. The bubble caption over their heads says: “Who’s in the street now? Who’s that who just came in our place?” They have a peeking spot they go look through to spy on the people inside. “Let’s sit on the ledge, and watch the sun go down on our street.” Back and forth, round and round they go.

There are lots of roof dogs, all shapes and sizes with varying degrees of persuasion in their doggy voices. When you walk down this street you might see these guys…

 

This little Jack presides over the “Fun-Art Joyas”

 

Here he is a little closer.

 

 

 

He has a lot to say about walking down his street. 

After some fiesta the party favors were left up, this little guy guards his well.

 

 

 

 

 

And this one, hardly recognizable as ‘dog’. Is it a mop?? Nope, it’s a perro.

 

 

We meet a pack of 3 strays on the street. They’re afraid of me and just want a sniff of Frankie.

The strays head up a parade of burros.

 

 

 

 

The burros may be used to deliver things in San Miguel. Easier to navigate the roads, their people probably can’t afford other kinds of transport anyway. They are in definitely the ‘nicer’ part of town, filled with ex-pats and North Americans who have much. One of the burros had a load of wood on his back. The community is trying to harvest mesquite wood in an environmentally friendly way, and will bring this wood into town for people to use. I’m not sure if that’s what was going on, later when I caught up with Dorian, I asked if she understood what they were asking….”were they begging for money?” She nodded her head, “think so.”

The contradictions continue.

 

At one point in the rambles down the streets of San Miguel I came across this sign pasted to the thick, wooden door of someone’s entryway.

 ”In this house, we are Catholics. We don’t accept propaganda of other religions.”

With an image of the Virgin of Guadelupe and an advertisement half ripped off just below.

What a place…

 

January 24th, 2009 by karin

Yes, I said that.

Dorian’s reply (my housemate) was “DUH!”

I had to back-track. “No, really, the other store, MEGA (they don’t mince words here, they just name it for what it is) has a pretty good one,” I said in defense of my ridiculous statement. This was day 3 of week one. We were fried and just needed to be home…to this…

…the view from our upper terrace.

You can see the lake in the distance. We tried to go to this lake. I’m craving some large masses of water myself, but we couldn’t really get to it. There seem to be some archaeological restrictions around it, and it may also be the main source of water here. So we can only look from a distance. Sometimes when the sun is going down, the moon is rising, turn around and there it is.

 

There is generally lots to look at from our little vantage point on the outskirts of town. I’m glad we are to the northwest of the center of town although it has raised some transportation issues. It’s not that we are far away by any stretch. Our house to where we train most days is about a 30 minute walk if you don’t rubber-neck it too much and get caught up with anything and everything that makes this place so unusual and engaging. It is similar to the walk from my place down into the heart of Ballard, back in Seattle. However, the cobblestone surfaces, the narrow streets and minimal sidewalks make this more of an effort than say, the Sunday morning stroll to the farmers market on Old Ballard Ave.

We live, from what we read and are told, in the ‘Mexican’ part of town. Ironic. The heart of town does have a lot of North Americans either living or visiting. I could see going an entire day without having to speak Spanish for all the ex-pats, American tourists and the excellent English that so many of the residents speak. There is a huge contrast between the center of town and the outskirts we drive home to each night.

This is a place of such contradiction, contrast and incredible blending of culture and history. It is difficult to go anywhere without seeing something that is very unusual or baffling, heart-breaking or beautiful. Somehow I make sense of some of the extreme contrasts, and sometimes I simply can’t. And the examples are endless.

So, from our roof, we have a lake to the south, surrounded by mountains, roof dogs to talk to and much to spy on….sometimes we see ‘roof-kids’ as well. This little boy scrambled up to the top of this little tower. You see these all over the place, they have windows in them, are made of brick in a wonderful dome shape. Morning light streams through and fills the rooms with light.

Since we’re in the Mexican neighborhood, it seems appropriate, our neighbors to the east fly the flag.

 

 

 

As the sun continues to go down, the light of La Parroquia, the main church in the center of town begins to light up.

 

 

 

There was a HUGE fireworks show this past Wednesday….I didn’t get any pictures unfortunately. Many of the fireworks were right over the Parroquia, it was the center of the display, then to the north and south of it, two other church sites were also a base for the display. The fireworks were lit off OVER the center of the city. It was unreal, stunning and as good a show as I’ve ever seen.

So many fiestas and reasons to celebrate here! You can’t hardly go a day without hearing some band kick in with a melody of pomp and celebration. Just this morning at about 6:45 am, drums kicked in with a marching beat to escort a pilgrimage from the Parroquia on the rest of their journey…nine more days ahead of walking. And some kind of M-80s, or were they cannons(?), went off at intermittent intervals. Who knows half the time what the bands or bangs are for, they just happen. Somewhat like this fireworks show, it wasn’t listed in any of the “Happenings” in the papers or elsewhere. It just happened.

Frankie is settling in to the random and often undecipherable noise very well. She’s got her crate set up in our living room and is making friends during the training days in the parks. She herds her flock while we are working, alerting us to any potential stranger approaching. She’s made several friends who walk through the park. In particular, a BIG, but young german shepherd, who’s name I still can’t understand from the boy who walks him. Sounds like “Beet-john.”

When we take lunch breaks, she joins in at the restaurant or terrace where we grab a bite. More waiters in San Miguel know her name than mine. Come to think of it, they don’t ask about my name, just hers. “Frankie” doesn’t mean much here, so every so often her name gets translated to “Francisca” with my best Spanish accent added in. At least it makes them laugh.

 

We humans are settling in well too. The system for washing all the produce has been established–I like to fill up the sink with the water and the cleaning solution and let the produce bob away for 10 minutes or so. Then I load up the counter-top dish rack to let it all dry.

 

I’ve learned how to make “Jamaica” water (sounds like “her-my-kah”), hibiscus flower tea, and am going to try my hand at a tamarind water. I’ve found a San Miguel recipe book, that in my usual style, I read like fiction or use as a dictionary, and then cook however I feel like anyway. The abundance of avocado, chili peppers, tomatillos, limes & fresh herbs is inspiring. Some days past, I saw someone walking down the street carrying a street food dish — grilled meat with a fresh cabbage slaw, salsa, crema (sour cream) topped with a crispy tortilla, fresh sliced avocado & lime halves. It inspired a whole meal…that turned out great, if I do say so myself.

Right now the airplane advertising the circus is flying over. Screaming from the loud-speaker in Spanish is an invite. We ask what they are saying and Bobby chimes in, it’s something about, see the tigers, the elephants, the lady who ’she walks, she talks, she crawls like a reptile.’ Only one of the daily snippets of wisdom that fellow intensive-e & San Miguel resident, Bobby, lets fly. I like to call ‘em “Bobby-isms” and they are plentiful. He has some connection to a circus in his past, apparently has a circus tent at his ranch that we may use for shade when we go train out at his place. The likes of us under a circus tent.

Somehow that image makes sense…

Just now, a truck rolled by, advertising the circus…again, more loud-speakers in Spanish. This time there was a llama (or is it an alpaca?) in the bed of the truck to help inspire & attract the crowds. All I can do is shake my head. 

January 10th, 2009 by karin

I arrived in San Miguel on January 1, 2009, new year–equally new adventure. I got the blog current to the arrival, but now it has already been 10 days. Sorry for the long post….just look at the pictures if you want…

On Friday, the 2nd, I had business to attend to, picking up boxes that I had shipped. This was to be my first trek into the heart of San Miguel, El Centro. The historic center of San Miguel, filled with monuments, significant architecture, churches and the compact streets that used to be the roads for horses, pack animals & carts, now filled with oversize cars, mini-buses and candy apple green & white taxis.

Buildings might be painted brilliant colors of teal, orange, burnt brown, yellows & purples, or they might be crumbling brick & mortar, bland cement block or stucco of various colors & shades that have been washed on, faded and re-applied.

I had to convince a taxi driver that Frankie, “ella es muy beuno, por favor” and while they aren’t too keen on it, they’ll let me in.

Our first encounter with walking in the city required a lot of presence. Right, left, front, back, above, below…..sound familiar to the taiji practioners? Just walking here is a taiji lesson in “Where there is up, there’s down, where there’s left, there’s right, above, below, inside, outside…” The inside for me was “Holy moly, how am I going to deal with this everyday?” The outside was, “Excuse me, perdon. Frankie! Here, come, this way…” The “sidewalks” if you could call them that, are wide enough for people to pass each other, most of the time. But if Frankie gets confused by some noise or is trying to pay attention to me, there inevitably seems to be a dog head or tail in the way of someone trying to pass. Because of the nature of keeping dogs here, which I haven’t fully figured out yet, and the large numbers of strays, many people are wary of dogs. Every so often, a Mexican school child might ask about her or a toddler wants to point out that she’s a dog. At home, I’ve worked with her to become skilled at stepping to the side to let people pass. But there’s no side  to step off to here! It is an entirely new skill set for both me and Frankie to learn to navigate these streets with some kind of ease and grace.

Slowly, I start to unpack. Put things away. Stock the refrigerator. Take Frankie out for a walk, or to play in the little, dust & scrubby bush & cactus park right next to the Casita. It takes me a few days to understand the strays. The first walk, I could not read their body language at all. We turned around, cutting the walk short until I could get a better sense of them. The reality is that they are very timid with people, interested in Frankie, but only out of curiosity. Sometimes the random dog on the street does belong to someone and if they are following us, their people eventually call them. But it is a very casual sort of ownership. The actual strays are hesitant, quiet, living on the fringe, just trying to survive. The roof dogs are noisy & bold. Perhaps a little bored of being on the roof all day. I don’t know. They certainly serve a purpose as watch dogs though, not much gets by them.

It is a place teeming with all signs of life. Noise of everything, the cars, the bells of the churches, the metal shop across from my house and a chorus of birds that sing an opera each morning. It is bright and bold all day, with the sun rising (taking its time to get over the mountains) and then it is HERE. The smells of dust, sweet flowers that the hummingbirds chase, street food–grilled meat & corn, fresh baked breads & pane dulce, cut chile peppers & onions.

All of the senses are engaged, stimulated, inundated.

Then you pass by a thick wooden door with a metal circular knocker. The door is open. 

Coolness streams out from the open space inside giving a much-needed breeze being on the sunny side of the street. A quick glance in reveals an open, central space of stone, or granite, often with colorful tiles in the walls and floors. If the building is several stories tall, it may be very shaded, or, if not, let in more sun.

There may be green potted palms, purple-blue cactus and a riot of orange and purple flowers of plants I can’t identify yet. The cool air and lush interior setting is inviting. Small, unassuming doorways lead into the richest of spaces, lush, tropical, peaceful, quiet. It is impossible to tell what is beyond the doors, a working shop hand-carving giant wooden doors for a new building, or a little “tienda” where you can pick up some eggs or milk or a soda.

I am welcomed to San Miguel by a man in a pink-ish shirt, jeans, sunglasses. He’s taken an interest in Frankie and asks me a few questions in Spanish. I am able to answer but only after several times of indicating with gestures & broken Spanish, “Perdon, que?” He speaks very quietly. Everyone speaks quietly. Or at least all the locals. Many norte americanos are obvious simply because their voices rise above the rest. Several of my books reference the soft-spoken quality of verbal communication, whether an man speaking to his wife, or a mother to her children. The kids are more boisterous, but the adults, very soft-spoken. Anyway, he’s a life-long resident of San Miguel, and takes it upon himself to officially welcome me and wish me all the best to enjoy my stay here. Very gracious.

It is an old city, the heart of the revolution against the Spaniards, and recently celebrated 450 years. One of its most famous monuments, La Parroquia.

Maybe I will take a traditional tourist shot from the front, probably not.

I like the many angles and lines, curves and intricacies of the building.

It is a beautiful warm, soft orange/pink color. And can be seen from many hilltop vistas in San Miguel.

The bells seem to ring here at odd times-on the hour, then also on the quarter hour? Must be a secret to the bell ringing.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Another famous landmark, the Instituto de Allende, offers a quiet courtyard off a busy street withthe soft watery sounds of a fountain, shade from the trees, and cool, lush plantings. It also features a bold, action packed mural, referencing (I think) the revolution. 

One of my cohort arrives, Declan, from Vancouver, BC. Despite the fact that I’ve been in communication with lots of people at home, I haven’t seen anyone I know for over 3 weeks. It was good to see someone! We head out into his neighborhood, right in the middle of it all to a restaurant for lunch, a Spanish/English school where you can take language lessons, salsa lessons, cooking classes then off to the Mercado where many artisan crafts and fresh fruits, vegetables and cuts of meat may be purchased. Not unlike the cobblestone streets of San Miguel, the aisles of the Mercado are tight, packed with all kinds of foods, dried beans, tripe & various cuts of beef we don’t often see in the States, and, watch out for the floors, because they are very likely slippery.

Declan shows me delicate & intricate bead work he found the day before. Beautiful, one tiny bead at a time pieces–boxes, little pots, a sun for the wall, an animal, a key chain, a bracelet.

I’m fascinated by the textiles. Embroidery & linens.

The street food & crafts mingle with festivity.

Displays are simple & to the point! Tortillas, here.

Cut onions, bell peppers, fresh chile peppers and canned jalepenos, here, here & here. 

Colors….amazing.

 

Shops with unique visual displays. Hitting the senses all over again. 

  This one has hearts with flames on the bottom shelf.

  Shiny containers.

  Big wooden letters.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Those flaming hearts are also well displayed in an old Pepsi-cola cooler. 

 

 

  She might be your invite into a shop.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Or the unabashed recognition of the dance of life & death in the culture may show itself.

 

Ten days into San Miguel: I haven’t got a sense of the heart of the place yet, but its charms are beginning to reveal themselves. I have much to learn here, about taiji, about more  than taiji and then back to taiji curriculum again.

My intensive starts in 2 days, Monday, January 12th.

My inspiring & engaged Senior Adult classes, with their sub Tom, start on Tuesday the 13th. Thank you Tom & have fun, all of you!!

And my incredible, hard-working Tuesday night “Thousandth Part Path: Taijiquan & Push Hands Self-Study Class” has their 2nd gathering to work their material and find their gaps. I am finishing their lesson plan for that class now. You guys are the best. Thanks for the “hello.”

http://www.vimeo.com/2746981

Nice to still have a root at home. Breath in…..breath out….sigh.

January 7th, 2009 by karin

The first morning in San Miguel de Allende…..was bright. Very bright. It seems like the sun rises very quickly and is mostly right over your head. Must be because we are that much more south, huh? The first couple days I spend getting situated to a new home, unpacking, finding a grocery store, convincing a taxi driver that “mi perro (dog) es muy beuna, please can I bring her,” (and  I said that last part in Spanish too, thank you very much!) so that we can get into el centro (center of town) to pick up the stuff that I shipped down. Lots of dog food……yes, I know…………but she’s finicky!

All somewhat overwhelming to be honest.

There are a LOT of people here. It is a very busy town–lots of noise, trucks, buses, cars, people, dogs, roosters and radios. Initially, I was astonished at how very noisy it was. Not a sleepy, quiet little hamlet at all. People have got stuff  going on, things to DO, kids to raise, products & clothes to sell out of their front doors and street food to eat.

Thanks to Jen (my fab Spanish teacher!) and all her hard work with me, I am able to communicate, sometimes, in broken Spanish. She worked with me on pronunciation a lot, and it paid off, because if I know the word or sentence I’m trying to say, I am understood rather well. Thank you Jen!

I live at Casita de los Colibries. “House of the Hummingbirds”. And they are here. As well as many other birds that I’ve not seen before. There are two terraces, one right across from the roof dogs and the other another level up. Frankie is afraid of the steps to that one…we’ll have to work on it.

Here are our new buddies, the roof dogs across the street

and the residual Christmas decoration.

They do their barking-work in the morning, when it is still cool. Then, retreat to some shaded area of the roof once the sun starts to bear down on them. Later in the afternoon they resume their neighborhood watch, barking at anyone that goes by. Or the stray. Or the truck. Or the people who got off the bus. Or me. Or Frankie. They have so much to say about the comings and goings on the street.

Here’s a view from the terrace, looking northwest, towards home in Seattle.

There’s a small park to the west and north of our casita. It is a scrubby, bush and dirt filled park with things for the kids to climb on. It is nice for Frankie because she has room to bounce and chase the ball. Good for me too, because it is a hill, and I need to start training lungs that will function at 6000+ feet. I can feel it already.

We are settling in. I will make an effort to begin exploring this little city, looking for its charms.

For now, it is home.