In Taiji we touch and we listen. In a way these are the same thing, but in another sense they are complimentary opposites or companions. Imagine a blind person's hands and fingers roving with such delicate sensitivity over surfaces. The fingers extend to touch and then yield to listen, almost, but not quite, instantaneously. And to adequately listen the touch must extend beyond the surfaces it encounters, and into the depths of things. To do this I must be open enough to allow what I'm touching into my own depths. Touching and listening, in their active capacity at least, combine as a motor of being. Our presence presents not just a living thing but a creature that at once flows outwards to touch and flows inward to listen. The energy of presence is then the fine oscillation between these two processes. Pure Taiji.