The present moment is not just a passing through point, an arbitrary stretch of road on a busy highway. It is an infinite multiplicity – a nexus of energies and currents – an overflow of possibilities that open up only to those with the heart to embrace it.

Depth comes at a cost. And that cost is pain.

Humility or humbleness can be summed up in one simple phrase: nothing special. Content and satisfied with the present moment; neither interfering nor hankering after entertainment. It is perhaps the quality that most eludes us, having been reared in a culture that puts self above all else.

We are delicate, vulnerable creatures made largely of soft tissue, befraught with doubts and fears, yet programmed to respond to spirit.

The critical mind is easy to discern. It is felt as a tightening and narrowing of the forehead. But also a slackening and weakening of the mind's core – a loss of centre – and a congealing of mind around the object of criticism. We aim in our work for the opposite – a dense well-gathered centre in the middle of the brain, and a relaxed expanding brow, face and smile. This will be very difficult at first. It will feel like you're going crazy – losing your mind. Which of course you are – losing the false mind in order to find true mind. You'll know when you've got it right because when the mind is properly centred then so are the belly and heart – everything slots nicely into place.

Quiet and receptive. Brain a receiver; spirit the generator.

Stand on only one leg for a minute. Not too difficult, especially if your sense of balance has been developed with Taiji. Now stand on only one leg for a whole minute with eyes closed tight. A little more difficult? This is because we use the eyes to latch onto stationary objects in our environment in order to assist balance. Which is not really balance at all but a locking or a freezing – a hardening into solidity – which is not Taiji either because it goes against the basic principles of softness and equilibrium. Now, sit quiet and still with the eyes closed for as long as it takes to achieve internal peace. Then slowly open the eyes without leaping out of them to grasp what you see – let the world come to you – into your sanctum – your pool of compassion. What you may feel, as these sights enter your heart, is a movement of spirit in the opposite direction – from your soul to whatever your eyes touch. This is the spiritual dimension of vision – an exchange of grace.

Now or never.

Eventually, if you persist in this game, you'll need to shift from a life of principle to a life of prayer. A move demonstrated most clearly and most beautifully by Grand Master Chi Chiang-Tao.

The teacher indicates what and how to change. It's then up to you to institute that change.

Corruption is infectious. Take, for example, modern athletics: if one person in the field is taking steroids then they all have to otherwise they can't compete. This is why our work is so painstaking, if not painful, and lonely – it really is an uphill and largely thankless struggle. Not for everyone, obviously; for those who, deep in their heart, know they have no choice.

"there would even be the risk that domestication has already come into effect, if I were to give in to my own melancholy"

The strength to achieve balance and the courage to tip the balance.

Only when I give (to the Other) do I find my centre, my place, my home, my Heart.

Arms do the heart's bidding.

We must, as a matter of urgency, ditch our outdated metaphysics that lazily privileges extension over intention, solid over fluid, space over time, force over energy, similarity over difference, single over multiple, stillness over movement, silence over noise. This was, in fact, the major project of the Modernists a hundred years ago. It requires, above all else, the admission of spirit and an understanding of energy. And, probably, a new language.

The heart touches first, then the hand.