Tàijíquán and Xíngyìquán likely date from the late 16th or early 17th century, while Bāguàzhǎng is of more recent vintage, having been developed in the second half of the 19th century. The three arts share common characteristics and theories of movement derived from Taoism that seem to be compatible with one another and are also different from many other classical approaches of martial arts. This is especially strong in the case of Tàijíquán.
There is no Tàijíquán without Taoism. People who approach the art piecemeal, attempting to get benefit from parts of its teachings, may improve other martial arts they practice, but without the underpinning of Taoist philosophy, are not practicing Tàijíquán but instead specializing in a specific form of body cultivation that is related to Tàijíquán.
In studying Tàijíquán, one can differentiate between answering three different questions. First, what is Tàijí as a martial art? Then, why should one use Tàijí methods in martial arts practice? Finally, how is it that one does so?
The first question (what) speaks to describing the art and answering whether you are actually doing it. The second question (why) speaks to whether or not the art will work, based on its approach. The third question (how) is about actually using Tàijí ideas in personal combat.
In martial arts practice, a person’s level of ability is often determined by their athletic potential, sometimes referred to as prenatal jing – what you have the potential to accomplish, specifically developed skills (most martial arts are focused on skills, given the body development present) and their amount of direct combat experience. Given similar training and experience, the stronger and faster practitioner will usually win. But how far can you take your own body development? How much should you focus on your innate potential as a prime differentiator?
Can we instead find a new way to improve ability that is not dependent on the body alone? Can we use refined skill instead and shift the balance or emphasis from body potential and development back to skill development?
In Taiji, ideas from Taoism influenced the answer to this question, in the affirmative, using the idea of soft/small in contrast to big/hard. This is in contrast to Confucian ideals developed by Kǒngzǐ [
One needs to be strong to have ability in martial arts, but how can we at the same time minimize the amount of force we need to succeed? How can we reduce force and still be effective? Does this then let us, when we need to use a large amount of force, defeat someone who may have greater innate potential?
Ultimately, to chase the idea of physical strength development to an extreme is not Tàijíquán. Tàijí groups may add hard Qìgōng to their practice, to address strength development, but that should not be the primary focus of Tàijíquán as a martial art.
The historical art called Nèijiāquán was a specific martial arts style that died out. Wiles has a book detailing some of its aspects from the written record. Today, Bāguàzhǎng, Xíngyìquán, and Tàijíquán are generally regarded as internal martial arts styles, as they emphasize Taoism and internal training in their practice.
Many groups do Qìgōng [
Internal martial arts are hard to learn and understand. Skill is not based on natural ability alone, in contrast to external martial arts. In external martial arts, your skill level is generally limited by your body condition. In internal martial arts, we try not to struggle directly against an opponent, but instead follow their force and find opportunity. Internal martial arts practice thus reduces but does not eliminate the dependency on physical condition. To do this, a person’s skill level needs to be advanced, and today, despite the ability to see many people in films online, we do not often see high level internal skill demonstrated.
Internal martial arts ideas are hard to show directly. For example, consider the teaching aphorism: “The mind is here, feel this here”. A student may not know at all what the teacher is talking about, and think “Why can’t I feel this?”. There is a challenge inherent to the internal martial arts teaching methodology, as you cannot directly show someone what a feeling is.
External styles or wàijiā [
In nèijiā the emphasis is more on how I can beat you in the most efficient manner, using the least amount of energy. The nèijiā approach as a result can lead to very deep research into the use of and understanding of force. As a result, the training goal is different in the two types of schools. In external martial arts, natural ability is improved as one becomes stronger and faster, while in internal martial arts the natural ability is changed or transformed into a new kind of ability that was not present before.
Take as an example, in Tàijíquán when we say the word relax. Relaxation as meant in Tàijí is not the common-sense or colloquial usage of the term. The term relax takes on a new meaning for Tàijíquán practitioners – some of which I will delve into in future writing. In Tàijíquán we still need to have fitness, but that is not the primary focus of our training. We use our muscles differently, and so the ultimate result differs.
In wàijiā, many people eventually get injured or can’t do the art well or at the same level as they age. They age out of boxing, wrestling, etc. In nèijiā, because of the internal practices and the fact that they are not as extreme physically, one hopes to be healthier overall and able to train longer through life and maintain a higher level of skill as they age.
The emphasis on balance and coordination in Tàijíquán ideas is drawn from Classical Chinese Medicine. We want to cultivate good physical and mental health to be able to keep our skill longer. For the latter, learning Taoist ideas and influencing our life outside of martial arts practice will hopefully help the practitioner also obtain a deeper understanding of the world.
In Taoist cosmology, there is a progression from Wuji (emptiness) to Tàijí and then to Liangyi, where Yin and Yang are clearly separated. In Tàijí, Yin and Yang are mixed, and change smoothly from one to the other, and have a boundary that is blurry. Each is not purely Yin or purely Yang. One analogy is in Tàijí, Yin and Yang exchange continuously and smoothly (like melting), whereas in Liangyi they switch suddenly. Both ideas are useful.
Bāguàzhǎng practice, for example, uses the Liangyi idea, as exemplified by the solid and broken lines in its trigrams. Liangyi, even if sudden, can be soft. For example, dissolving a force and then attacking can be soft, but this is still separated clearly into a Yin phase and a Yang phase. In Tàijí, we continuously dissolve and attack, and the offense and defense are not clearly separated from one another, Yin and Yang are intertwined.
In Tàijí, we first practice form, then push hands, and then fighting training. This progression naturally will improve your health. However, if you only practice form, and do it for health purposes, the result is no better than walking or hiking. A student needs the entire system of progression and then can obtain a special benefit (e.g., mental benefit) as Tàijí practice will influence the student's mind and allow them to better understand the world. Regardless of lineage, we should seek to accomplish our intended results with the highest level of efficiency, and train to the highest level possible.
