It is tradition in TaiChi to follow the Tao Te Ching and classify students into three types: good, mediocre and poor.
As a student once said to me, "I find your classes so inspiring but I just can't find the discipline to practice". This is the epitome of the mediocre student - intelligent & sensitive enough to know a good thing when they see one but too lazy to do any real work. Mediocre literally means "half way up the mountain"; as the climber often looses sight of the summit, it is important to have time in meditation so that one can see & feel one's life as a whole, from where it stems & where it's going. This is also the job of your teacher - to be your guide up the mountain.
Notice that talent is not mentioned. Talent means quick progress but it can be a curse. Talented students often pick & chose, and tend to glide through life so easily & superficially that reality never quite bites into them (no 'cogging' as my teacher would say). Liang put it, "Learn quick, forget quick". The only really useful talents are the ability to suss out what needs to be done (a good nose), and then the knack of applying yourself wholeheartedly to that task. These are the talents of the good student and fortunately, through practice, they can be developed and improved. The teacher will gently guide the student into those areas they'd rather not venture into. It is up to the student to find a way into enjoying the difficulties.
John Cage used to tell a little Zen aphorism:
The poor student is someone who mocks the Tao. These are either people with chronic negative dispositions - they mock everything out of self-defense or habit, but underneath it all they are touched by truth & beauty, or people so clotted with self and ignorance that the Tao is totally alien to them and their only possible response to it is laughter - those with no spiritual grace. These would be the students that insist that energy doesn't exist, or that the teacher's unusual abilities are just trickery. Of course compared to the vast majority of the population who never becomes students of a spiritual discipline, the poor students are quite advanced.
Cage also used to tell a Zen story about a young man in Japan who wished to study Zen. The boy's parents found a reputable master living in the woods and secured tutelage with him for their son. They asked the Zen master how long it would take before their son was enlightened and could come home. "Three years", was his reply. The student worked hard but after three years he had had little success and told his master that he would have to leave as his parents had only agreed to pay for three years instruction. The Master said, "Stay another three months and you will be enlightened". The parents agreed to this, but after three months still no success. The student, demoralised and miserable, insisted that now he must return home, but the Zen master equally insisted, "Three more weeks and you will be enlightened". So the student stayed three more weeks but still no enlightenment. The Zen master said "OK, three more days and if you are not enlightened by the end of the third day then I suggest you kill yourself". On the second day the student achieved enlightenment.
The good student hearing the Tao, practises it diligently.Most students (the ones that continue anyway) start off as mediocre.
The mediocre student hearing the Tao, wavers between belief and disbelief.
The poor student hearing the Tao, laughs out loud.
Without that laughter it wouldn't be Tao.
As a student once said to me, "I find your classes so inspiring but I just can't find the discipline to practice". This is the epitome of the mediocre student - intelligent & sensitive enough to know a good thing when they see one but too lazy to do any real work. Mediocre literally means "half way up the mountain"; as the climber often looses sight of the summit, it is important to have time in meditation so that one can see & feel one's life as a whole, from where it stems & where it's going. This is also the job of your teacher - to be your guide up the mountain.
Notice that talent is not mentioned. Talent means quick progress but it can be a curse. Talented students often pick & chose, and tend to glide through life so easily & superficially that reality never quite bites into them (no 'cogging' as my teacher would say). Liang put it, "Learn quick, forget quick". The only really useful talents are the ability to suss out what needs to be done (a good nose), and then the knack of applying yourself wholeheartedly to that task. These are the talents of the good student and fortunately, through practice, they can be developed and improved. The teacher will gently guide the student into those areas they'd rather not venture into. It is up to the student to find a way into enjoying the difficulties.
John Cage used to tell a little Zen aphorism:
If something is boring for 5 minutes then do it for 10. If it is still boring then do it for 20. If it is still boring then do it for an hour. In no time at all you'll find it's not boring at all but really interesting.The word boring here can equally be replaced with difficult, impossible, horrible, painful etc. This is the secret to becoming a good student - practice with a willing heart. The good student also knows that she's in for a long haul and so doesn't allow enthusiasm to run away with her. As Dr Chi used to say, "True friendship is like water, not like honey".
The poor student is someone who mocks the Tao. These are either people with chronic negative dispositions - they mock everything out of self-defense or habit, but underneath it all they are touched by truth & beauty, or people so clotted with self and ignorance that the Tao is totally alien to them and their only possible response to it is laughter - those with no spiritual grace. These would be the students that insist that energy doesn't exist, or that the teacher's unusual abilities are just trickery. Of course compared to the vast majority of the population who never becomes students of a spiritual discipline, the poor students are quite advanced.
Cage also used to tell a Zen story about a young man in Japan who wished to study Zen. The boy's parents found a reputable master living in the woods and secured tutelage with him for their son. They asked the Zen master how long it would take before their son was enlightened and could come home. "Three years", was his reply. The student worked hard but after three years he had had little success and told his master that he would have to leave as his parents had only agreed to pay for three years instruction. The Master said, "Stay another three months and you will be enlightened". The parents agreed to this, but after three months still no success. The student, demoralised and miserable, insisted that now he must return home, but the Zen master equally insisted, "Three more weeks and you will be enlightened". So the student stayed three more weeks but still no enlightenment. The Zen master said "OK, three more days and if you are not enlightened by the end of the third day then I suggest you kill yourself". On the second day the student achieved enlightenment.
1 comment
Some most challenging moments in my life were just at seemingly 'ordinary' T'ai Chi classes; times when I have had to put everything down, finally, and really feel the connection and allow the teaching to enter and meld with me. Sometimes this has been after a very quick rush to hide in the loo for a minute whilst I tried not to cry too much as my heart creaked and cracked open again! At Findhorn once, we were doing a whole-body form of push-hands, and though my T'ai Chi in other respects was 'good', I was as usual reduced me to a heap on the floor, perplexed. The following week, with so much gentleness and care, Kajedo re-showed and re-explained the motion (spiralling of course) and allowed me to find the hard places that I was so busy protecting, and then to soften them. This attention to the student-teacher connection and the generosity of spirit have inspired me in my studentship and teaching ever since.
These days, studying with Mark, I know that every other session will bring a new or returning resistance or deeper issue to the fore, and that the only way forward is to yield. So sometimes there are tears springing up in my eyes, but the commitment to joining and opening the heart is is both the path and the fruition. There is very little else to say.
Post a Comment