My cat Salem is only a few short months away from turning 2. She is still young, playful and full of energy. She is very affectionate most of the time, but she also likes to play rough on occasion and has yet to realize how much her claws and teeth can do to my poor human flesh.
Coincidentally, Salem’s birthday falls shortly after twin anniversaries in my taiji practice. This April will mark 20 years of being a taiji pracitioner and this May will mark 9 years of being a specifically Chen style taijiquan practitioner.
It is perhaps fitting, then, that I associate my cat so closely with Tai Chi. When I was first deciding to get a cat, one of my primary concerns was that the cat would be able to tolerate my Tai Chi practice. And Salem, fortunately, proved to have little difficultly in that regard. In fact, my instructor did let me know that cats were generally okay with tai chi, perhaps even attracted to it, whereas dogs get confused or view it as aggression. This is certainly borne out whenever I visit my parents and the family golden retriever does not let me get through basic exercises, let alone forms practice.
When Salem first grew into her confidence and started trying to “attack” me in various capacities, I quickly found myself using taiji responses to her assaults. She would leap and try to latch on – I would simply deflect her attempts with a judicious application of peng jin so that her attempted latching on became a bounce-off.
What I have slowly gained more appreciation for, is the way in which she herself has by natural design what I, and other internal arts practitioners, devote our entire lives to trying to attain. Salem’s body is incredibly powerful, allowing her to leap several times her own height – but it is also incredibly relaxed, allowing her to fit under a couple of inches of vertical clearance. Her paws can be used as a gentle touch to gain attention or maintain contact – or they can become lightning fast “punches” of a sort. She can use them to bat at my hand with varying degrees of power and uses them to repeatedly hit insects. When I am making my bed (or, less fun for me, in my bed) Salem can launch herself into a slide that can turn her two front paws into a perfectly integrated power strike that a xinygiquan practitioner would envy.
Observing these traits in Salem has given me renewed appreciated for the the endeavour all neijia practitioners undertake. It has been fascinating to observe the connects between Salem being who she is and the practices and techniques I am constantly embodying. I am grateful to have Salem in my life for many reasons, and the insights I develop connected to my internal arts practice is just another facet to my life with my “baby girl”.
The Dreamers' Corner 