Sunday, November 11, 2012

T'AI CHI AND THE ART OF FLY-FISHING

                           T’ai Chi and the art of Fly-fishing

                                               Or

                           Fly-fishing and the art of T’ai Chi


Contrary to popular conception, neither of the above-mentioned activities is anything like the gentle, formless “soft” things that they seem to be.  Both are studies of physics, angles, and geometry…brought to life.  Let’s break them down and see why.

T’ai Chi or T’ai Chi Ch’uan is an ancient, traditional Chinese system of self-defense, often utilized and taught as a method of mental and physical health maintenance.  Far from being limited to the gentle exercises practiced in parks wherever populations of Chinese people occur, it is a dynamic, albeit non-assertive self-defense system, with subtle movements replacing the seemingly more powerful linear motions of many other systems of self-defense.  The reasons for the success of T’ai Chi as self-defense lies in understanding the concepts of balance, rooting, impetus, power dissolution and re-direction, timing, and energy focus.

As in other systems of self-defense, T’ai Chi teaches responses to aggressive behavior.  As the specific action of the aggressor is not specifically known (although sometimes “telegraphed” pretty well), the T’ai Chi practitioner has to be ready with appropriate movements to dissolve, redirect, and counter the aggression.  T’ai Chi teaches that when two linear forces of power meet, the most powerful force will prevail.  In the real world, the definitions of “power” are manifold.  Does it mean “strongest”? “Biggest”?  “Fastest”?  “Heaviest”?  At any given time, it could be any of the above.  The highest form of self-defense is simply to not encounter aggression, whether that means avoiding a potential confrontation (crossing the street, walking away from a challenge), or, barring that, not allowing the aggressive act to be carried out.

Many of the movements of T’ai Chi are circular, and many of the postures are rounded.  Although there are several styles, and some movements are conceived as different in application, the physics of the circular movements are based in centrifugal motion, automatically re-directing force away from the target, and creating opportunities for uprooting the aggressor or setting up a countering move.  The idea of roundness in the postures, again, is pure physics.  Rounded structures are inherently stronger than other shapes, from at least two different perspectives.  Just as an arch withstands pressure best, a rounded forearm block best prevents a blow from striking the target, not only because of the rounder shoulder-arm-forearm-wrist configuration, but because of the softening of the blow by utilizing the power-dissolution principle of simply not being where the blow was focused.

Fly-fishing is also an ancient and honorable activity based on physics, geometry, balance, timing, focus, etc.  Seemingly given to undulating movements of the long fly rod, the motions of the fly-caster also use the rounded movements to set up powerful linear applications of force.  As in T’ai Chi, the fly fisherman must operate from a balanced base, and utilize the power of the legs, waist, and upper torso, as well as that of the arm and hand to deliver a proper cast to the correct spot on the water.  Examined closely, the motions of the fly rod are not rounded for the classic straight-ahead cast.  The rod will flex into rounded forms on both the back cast and the presentation cast, but is, in both instances, simply using the arching of the rod to build and store kinetic energy within the structure of the rod.

As the line is released during the last instant of the presentation cast, utilizing all the stored energy of the “loading” phase, so “jing”, or power, is released at the precise instant of maximum effectiveness during a T’ai Chi strike.  Just as proper position is necessary for an effective T’ai Chi movement, the same ideas of position and timing are required for the fly-caster to be on target with the correct amount of energy.

The strength of T’ai Chi comes from a rooted stance.  Generated by the legs, power is driven by the waist, defined by the torso and arms, and delivered through the hands.  So, too, does the effectiveness of the cast with a fly rod depend on the sequential series of correct motions performed correctly, originating from a rooted base, utilizing the power of the waist, the directional controls of the torso and arms, and the proper delivery of measured power in the appropriate direction.

Both T’ai Chi and Fly-fishing must deal with public misconception.  In the case of T’ai Chi, the primary attitude has been that it is a pretty, low-impact exercise, practiced mostly by older people, or by new-age crystal gazers looking to get in touch with their inner power (or the universe…).

Surprise!  It DOES utilize inner power or “chi” as an added source of power, and, whatever the source, it IS there, and CAN be focused and used to add force to a strike, or developed to provide greater sensitivity to movement in others, perhaps even to the presence of others.  Beyond that sidebar, suffice it to repeat that T’ai Chi Ch’uan was developed as a system of self-defense, as well as for physical and mental conditioning.

 Fly-fishing, on the other hand, was NOT developed as a self-defense mechanism, or even a survival technique.  Netting, trapping, and poisoning fish are all more effort-effective ways to catch fish.  The evolution of fly-fishing is, rather, an on-going practice and study of how to selectively catch fish in a manner requiring finesse in every phase, from the equipment required (long, thin, weak rods, subtly tapered lines and leaders, painfully exact replicas of insects or organisms made from feathers, bits of fiber, etc.) to the techniques needed to properly utilize the equipment.  The parallels continue.

One need not be young, strong, vigorous, athletic, or aggressive to effectively practice T’ai Chi.  It does not require that a student give several hours a day to practicing the forms, although more practice at all levels is always helpful.  One need not even be particularly dedicated to the art to benefit from it.  As an exercise form, it will always help you when you practice.

Fly-fishing offers the same set of reasonable commitments.  It is often done in surroundings that promote well-being, and the act of concentrating on laying out a cast perfectly can separate the fisherman from the world at large as effectively as practicing T’ai Chi.  In addition, in spite of the insider’s knowledge that you’re practicing physics and geometry on a really personal level, both art forms remain (to the uninitiated) a somewhat mystical activity limited to a select population.

Upon a further bit of reflection, it can certainly be argued that fly-fishing is, indeed, a self-defense mechanism of sorts.  In the sometimes frenetic world of today, the ability to turn attention away from the mundane tasks of everyday life with the inherent pressures and responsibilities is very much a defense against the onslaught of anxiety, mentally generated illnesses, etc.  Practicing T’ai Chi for physical and mental health conditioning, as in the mental and physical removal of one’s self while fly-fishing, significant improvement can occur in several areas of concern.  Heartbeat rate is often lowered, blood pressure is reduced, breathing becomes less labored and more naturally diaphragmatic, balance is enhanced, and blood circulation is more efficient.  Wait a minute!  Which art form could achieve all these obviously healthful effects?  Is it Fly-fishing?  Is it T'ai Chi Ch'uan?   Yes!



Donald Madson

1 comment:

tom behr said...

In the sometimes frenetic world of today, the ability to turn attention away from the mundane tasks of everyday life with the inherent pressures and responsibilities is very much a defense against the onslaught of anxiety, mentally generated illnesses, etc.

Right on the mark! Don. One of my favorite quotations from Zen in The Art of Archery:
"Do 'I' hit rhe goal or does the goal hit me? Bow, arrow, goal and ego all melt into one another, so that I can no longer separate them. And even the need to separate them has gone.