Warning: This post contains details on my sexual/romantic experience (or lack thereof) that some may not wish to read.
I have attended two ceilidh dances thus far this fall. I have been attending ceilidh dances consistently enough over the past two years that the actual ceilidh dancing itself is very comfortable. What dismays me, however, is that I still have a mental/emotional block to asking someone to dance. My practice has become waiting to see whether someone is without a partner and then offering to fill in; however, this means I sit out on many dances where I’d rather be dancing. Even though celidh dancing is a culture where asking people to dance is both expected and not indicative of any further expectations, I experience the same level of anxiety at the idea of asking someone to dance as asking someone to date.
Part of this deep-seated anxiety is rooted, I suspect in my autism and introversion. I suspect part of it is also related to being a cishet single male. Many boys and men, at least in North America, are touch-starved. Touch is socially acceptable when it comes from a romantic partner or in a fighting/martial arts context. As a 35 year old who has only kissed a handful of times and has yet to experience partnered sex of any sort, romantic touch is something I’ve rarely experienced. My most consistent source of human touch is indeed in a martial arts context.
In taijiquan training, a fundamental method of partner training is push-hands (tuishou). Push-Hands is a mix of pre-set patterns and various degrees of freestyle grappling that is designed to hone listening skill (ting jin) by developing comfort with close-quarters combat and the ability to “read” an opponent through touch. Push-Hands is not sufficient for martial skill on its own, but it’s a key aspect of training taijiquan as a martial art, serving as a way to pressure-test principles developed in the forms (taolu) and a bridge to free-fighting (sanshou).
I was introduced to Chen style push-hands around 2016 but, for a number of reasons, my instructor had to put push-hands classes on hold starting around 2018. We have only been exploring push-hands again for about a year now. I am definitely more skilled this time around, and have retained more than I thought from my initial period of instruction.
Push-hands, and other taijiquan partnered training, is something I value highly. The push-hands patterns hone my sensitivity and awareness; freestyle push-hands requires creativity and self-trust to maintain one’s balance while seeking to unbalance another. The outcome is that my self-confidence, reflexes, and overall awareness increase drastically. Despite the connotations of the word, “push”, push-hands requires not trying to overpower an opponent. Deflection and redirection are the primary methods of push-hands, with any added power being applied only at key moments of vulnerability where an opponent’s defense has already been compromised. Push-hands, like most of taijiquan, is all about skill and principles, recognizing that relying on speed and strength only works until you inevitably encounter someone faster or stronger.
During the years in which my push-hands training was on hiatus I relied on weapons training to provide some of the external deficiency checks on the principles in the barehanded forms. I also relied on dancing, both ceilidh and otherwise, to have some comfort with human touch, reading another person through touch, and moving in relation to other bodies.
I do not know what will be required to overcome my fear of asking people to dance or to date, and I do not know when my experience of human touch, both romantic and social, will increase. In the meantime, I am grateful for both push-hands and ceilidh dancing. Both provide me with consistent human touch, both increase my overall physical literacy, and both bring to my attention of my life and practices in which further growth and experience are needed.
