Purchuasing T’ai Chi Ch’uan

by Robert Amacker

         In a previous article, Shopping for T’ai Chi Ch’uan, I attempted to alert the reader to the many difficulties natural to finding and selecting a teacher who actually knows real T’ai Chi Ch’uan and is both willing and able to teach it. I mentioned in particular the rather annoying fact that the presence of a large and successful school is of little help in establishing the actual credibility of the teacher. This is because, due to its rather mysterious world popularity, there are many things being taught today under the name of T’ai Chi Ch’uan, as well as many rather elementary versions of it, and both may well be and often are the vehicles of extremely salutary and effective exercises, and actually well deserving their large student bodies and good reputations. In terms of some kind of overall contribution to human welfare, this may be the best of all possible worlds, since the only real problem with T’ai Chi Ch’uan, as Cheng, Man-ch’ing pointed out, is that it is, and I quote, “too difficult to be useful to society.”

         But yet another reason that a large school is no particular credential stems from the fact that T’ai Chi Ch’uan, at its highest level, is not a business, a political movement, or a religion, but an art, and organizational abilities are not a particular requirement for, nor a result of, its mastery. The greatest past masters of the art have been known for their frequently eccentric and unpredictable personalities. Almost by definition, they are not only artists, but Taoist artists, and it’s pretty hard to get more unpredictable than that. There is absolutely nothing preventing a master of T’ai Chi Ch’uan from being an organizational genius and a successful business tycoon, but he is just as likely to be a wandering minstrel, or an out of work astrophysicist on welfare. Despite its philosophical subtleties and connections, T’ai Chi Ch’uan does not produce or favor any sort of identifiable “philosophical” personality, certainly not one that would tend to feel compelled to gather followers of his particular view of the universe.

         But …. If one wants to find the real sophistication possible in T’ai Chi Ch’uan, and would not actually rather be involved in a simpler, easier to find, and less ambitious study, and assuming that, however difficult it might be, one has somehow correctly identified someone who can teach it, then …. How does one proceed? What is one actually buying, and how is it delivered?

         On the one hand, one is buying simply knowledge, information, guidance if you will, and, theoretically at least, that is all one needs. But on a practical level, one needs practice, and real practice, contrary to the usual association of T’ai Chi Ch’uan with its slow and mysterious looking solo form, requires other people, real people who are quite different from each other but who all are working on the same technique. In addition, they must agree to meet at a certain time, in a certain place, and with a certain regularity, a regularity that, if it is to be successful, must continue for years. This, my friends, is a school.

         If you want to purchase T’ai Chi Ch’uan, you must not buy a teacher or even his knowledge. Real teachers cannot be bought. They do not have the mentality of slaves, and are not notoriously practical with regards to money. In short, no matter how much you pay them, they may disappear tomorrow. Nor is their knowledge, even if it could be simply extracted and purchased like some sort of tree sap or elixir, of much real use, devoid of any context for its practice. What you must buy is a school.

         You must always remember that it is not for the teacher that you are buying this school, it is for yourself. He does not need it, and cannot be relied upon to harbor any particular obsessions relating to creating it. But all real masters exhibit some desire to pass on their art, and a school is the best place to do it. It will attract his attention, and it will keep it. If he is an egomaniac, and not lacking for financial backing, it is true he may create it for himself. It will, however, be just that – for himself; and neither attribute is an outstanding credential for any real artist.

         So, if this is the correct attitude, how does it manifest in practice? It means that you are not buying some kind of nebulous particles of knowledge, or minutes of instruction as measured by the clock, but investing in a school. Practically speaking, it means that you are supporting the existence of that school, and that, even from the most selfish perspective, all of its activities need to be supported, even those that take place when you are not physically present. If students take the attitude that they should only be expected to pay for that which is somehow quantifiable and identifiable as being directly delivered to themselves, as if they were making a purchase in a shop, then the whole endeavor is almost certain to fail. If one is prevented, by whatever exigencies, from attending class, whether it be for one day or for one month, they should harbor no illusion that this absence is welcomed in any way by the teacher or the school, completely aside from the question of money. It simply means that whatever instruction that might have been missed must later be repeated, either by the teacher or one of the other students, and will be, because in a real school everyone recognizes the need to raise all of one’s practice partners to the highest level possible, for purely selfish reasons, and nobody has even the slightest desire to keep any secrets. It is this continual outpouring of knowledge, the practice that refines it, and the virtual guarantee that you will eventually receive it, even if you were not there when it was originally imparted, that you are really buying, and that is the only purchase that will ultimately bear fruit.

         The development of the school will continue through practice even during those times that the Grand Master, the Master of the particular school or branch, or even the top student instructors of the school may be absent. It is just as important that it be supported, both financially and by one’s most frequent possible attendance, during this period as during any other, perhaps even more so. If students are selfish and self-centered about their instruction, the school will be a dark place, which some may actually mistake for a sign of mystery and esoteric knowledge. If, however, they recognize the need to create an actual community in which knowledge can flourish, its spirit will be high and clearly identifiable as such.

         Whether one is simply joining an already successful school, or trying to create one, its logistical support should be the primary financial consideration. Its directors should not be subjected to self-serving, hair-splitting arguments devoted to one’s own personal needs or imagined special status. What they need from the students is some sort of reasonable predictability concerning the school’s fiscal reality, some way that they can make plans, look for new and better locations, and make some sort of reliable promise to the teacher or teachers about their possible income. For this reason students who want simply to drop in and out of class and think of themselves as simply buying the teacher’s time are and should be charged at a much higher rate than real members of the school. Likewise, those who are willing to make a commitment to supporting the survival of the school, on a regular monthly or even yearly basis, should be given the best possible price and easiest terms for fulfilling that commitment financially. If everyone realizes the personal advantage of this outwardly altruistic attitude, success, both of the school and in one’s own personal terms, is almost guaranteed.