Taiji is ultimately an act of remembering. Traditionally they talk about remembering what it was like to be an embryo in the womb, without thoughts or cares, just energy and floaty movements. But really it's remembering pure energy, not creating energy or becoming energy, but remembering – a relationship with the past. Energy as memory. Memories from the future as much as from the past, or rather from that perfectly chaotic virtual that never was and never will be. A messianic promise. In this sense taiji is a perfect vehicle for remembrance – for honouring and connecting to a friend or colleague, even an ancient master, who has passed on. It keeps the relationship alive, growing, developing. After death we tend to put aside those aspects of their character or energy that repelled us, that pushed us apart, disconnected; and instead we feel only those attractive qualities, the connexions. And so in death we become beautifully connected, and continue to learn from the example – the memory – of the other.