There is a story that Zhang Sanfeng, the mythical founder of taijiquan, would melt a path in the snow as he walked, and that flowers sprang up in his passing. Like all good stories, truth lies not in veracity but in instructive power. When the spirit is on fire one moves differently than cold. There is definitely a feeling of burning or carving a swath through the congestion of space and time. A swath from which entrapped energy escapes and changes the world.