Recently, a member of my family died. The death was not a surprise; it came after a long life, and it occurred as peacefully as one could hope with plenty of warning thanks to excellent long-term care staff. As anyone who has lost loved ones will know, however, all the warning and good conditions in the world does not lessen the grief one feels.
My grief tends not be outwardly expressive; it is often an inner wrestling and processing. Rather than bursts of tears and sobs, it’s a persistent weariness of mind, body, and soul, and an inward struggle between hope and despair.
There are times where I long for the ability to be more outwardly expressive during such moments. I can’t shake the feeling that being able to express grief through tears and outward lament would help my body and mind go through the healing process more quickly. Instead, grief will sit with me at steady, unabating intensity for several months; over the years I’ve experienced. both anticipatory and reactive grief. The result, unfortunately, is that I’ve a point where I have a constant “weight” of grief, and each new experience merely adds to the load.
As with so many areas of my life, my taijiquan practice provides the resilience I need to carry such weight. I have been practicing taijiquan for 22 of my 34 years; as such taijiquan has been my companion through many of life’s twists and turns. Practicing taijiquan as habitually as I do provides a reliable touchstone to anchor me through times of grief and pain.
Taijiquan is also primarily about balance-physical, emotional, and spiritual. Balance, from a taijiquan perspective is not neutral and unfeeling. It is dynamic and lively, achieved through the interplay of yin and yang energies. As such, taijiquan does not require being stoic and unfeeling; it allows the experience of grief while also gently insisting that grief is not the final word. In other words, taijiquan is neither emotionless nor does it require the bypassing of emotions. It does, however, suggest that staying “stuck” in one emotional state is unhealthy and not life-giving. It facilitates flow and movement, knowing that grief co-exists alongside joy, that despair co-exists alongside hope, and affirms life by encouraging the ebb and flow of all these states of being.
The concept of taiji refers to the dynamic interplay of yin and yang energies. Within that interplay, death is also recognized as a natural part of the process of things. As cheesy as it may seem, the “Circle of Life” described in The Lion King explains the basic premise well. Death does end a life which is tragic; and it brings new life in a variety of ways.
This resonates with my Christian theological understanding as well; while I believe the core essence of us persists beyond death, and that a day will come when death ceases to be part of the order of things for all creation, I also believe that death serves a purpose on this side of history. We are told that we are dust and that we shall return to dust-we are thus connected with all of Creation; indeed, given modern scientific understanding of our origins in the deaths of stars and the resulting stardust forming all elements outside of hydrogen and helium, we are connected with the entire cosmos! The story of Easter is one where life, death, and new life are revealed to be intimately connected and the power of love through the process is emphasized.
Grief is persistent, draining, and heavy. My taijiquan practice does not change erase these facts. My taijiquan practice does, however, cultivate the resiliency and perspective to carry the weight of grief and allow my body, mind and soul to remain healthy and life-affirming. In this, my taijiquan practice and my Christian faith praxis, are united and mutually reinforcing.
May these words be of help and comfort.
The Dreamers' Corner 