The True History of Taijiquan

T’ai Chi vs. Taijiquan

First of all it is important to know the meaning of the term Taijiquan. To understand, we have to look at the name of the art itself and how it has been rendered into English. Chinese characters are pictographs and there is no alphabet to indicated how a character is pronounced so rendering the sounds into English can be problematic. Chinese also contains many characters with the same pronunciation distinguished only by tone. Transliteration will only provide the pronunciation for the sound of a character not its meaning. Therefore, one can not be truly sure what word is actually meant unless one can see the actual character being used. Most people today use the Pinyin system of transliteration  developed in China in the 1950's. With a little practice, it is a much better guide to pronunciation. In Pinyin, the name of the Chen Family Martial Art would be written Taijiquan ( tie - gee - chan). In the West however, it is most often written as “Tai Chi Chuan”. This spelling uses the Wade-Giles system of transliteration which is rarely used by scholars anymore. According to that system, the pronunciation is the same as in Mandarin Chinese, “Taijiquan” but looks different because of the rather odd Wade-Giles spelling conventions.  Unfortunately this was the spelling that was used when Taiji was first introduced to the West so it is the  spelling most people know. It is therefore still used today. The problem is that most people aren’t familiar with the rules of the Wade-Giles system and tend to mispronounce it as Tai Qi (tai chee) confusing the word Chi (ji/gee) “ultimate”  with Ch’i (Qi/chee) “vital energy”.

Taiji is a Daoist concept. “Tai” means “great or grand”. Ji means “ultimate” or is sometimes translated as “ridgepole”. It is one of the main concepts in Daoist cosmology. According to Daoism, first there was the Wuji or Great Nothingness, the Void, the Primordial Chaos. From this emptiness arose the One, the Grand Ultimate, or Great Ridgepole. Taiji can seen as the potential for all things; energy, matter, movement. life, etc. From the One, emerged the Two; Yin and Yang, the complementary opposites of dark and light, earth and heaven, heaviness and lightness, male and female, heaven and earth. Yin and Yang are not fixed, unchanging opposites however. As each reaches fullness, it begins to change gradually into the other. All things are infinitely divisible into Yin and Yang.

Therefore we can see that the term Taiji has nothing to do with the martial arts. That is where the Quan part comes in. Quan or “fist” is usually used to denote a martial art. Traditionally martial arts were often known as Quanfa or “boxing” although today Wugong (martial skill) or Wushu (martial art)is more often used. Therefore Quan added to Taiji indicates that is now a martial art, the “Grand Ultimate Fist”. In the West, it is often shortened to just Taiji (T’ai Chi) for ease of pronunciation. It is the implied “quan” that indicates that we are talking about the martial art and not the Daoist cosmology. In Chinese there is no such confusion because the martial art is always called Taijiquan because it is understood that Taiji is the Daoist concept and not a martial art.

The founding of Taijiquan: What we know.

There is the argument that Taijiquan began at the temple on Wudang Mountain in Hubei Provence. We will discuss that in the next blog post. However, the Chen family credit Chen Bu the first of their clan to move to a small village that later became known as Chenjiaguo (literally “Chen Family Ditch”), a part of Wenxian county in Henan province. Chen Bu, is said to have been a skilled martial artist who practiced external forms of martial art known as Tongbei and Changquan (Long Fist). Both are Shaolin based forms and are still practiced today. However the first written reference to the art we now know as Taijiquan has been traced back by Chinese scholars to the 1600's. It was then that a former Ming Dynasty General and garrison commander Chen Wangting (1580 - 1660) a 9th generation of the Chen Family clan developed a martial art that later became known as Chen Taijiquan.

Interestingly, Chen Wangting did not actually invent the movements or postures in his new martial art. The postures are based on martial arts movements found in the book “The 32 Forms of the Canon of Boxing” by Qi Jiguang (d. 1587). The Canon of Boxing was a survey of various martial arts in existence at the time. All the arts surveyed were highly influenced by the Shaolin Temple. The Temple, which is often considered the birthplace of external style Chinese martial arts, is not far from Chenjiaguo. Its martial arts were a huge influence in China in general and would certainly been dominant in the Henan area.  Research shows that the Chen sets contained twenty-nine of the thirty-two postures found in Canon of Boxing. The Canon of Boxing begins with the postures “Lazily Tying Clothes” and “Single Whip” as did all seven original Chen sets The signature movement of Chen Taijiquan -  Buddha’s Warrior Attendant Pounds the Mortar ( Jin Gang Dao Dui) is found in several Shaolin forms. Furthermore, there is no art name Taijiquan mentioned. This clearly helps us date the beginning of Chen Taijiquan. Since it uses movements from a variety of martial arts, it is unlikely that it could have existed before the Canon of Boxing was published.

Since the martial arts of the time were external Shaolin based forms, Chen Taijiquan’s Daoist influence is remarkable. A poem written by Chen Wangting contains the following:

“Now I only have the Classic of the Yellow Palace (huangting jing) to accompany me.
In times of leisure I invent martial arts,
In times of activity I farm the fields,
And teach my children and grandchildren to be strong and healthy to meet life’s expediencies.” (2)

The Huangting Jing is a seminal Daoist text from the 2nd century. It contains many Qigong and meditative exercises and is said to be part of the Nourishing Life (yangsheng) tradition. That Chen Wangting would spend so much time studying this ancient Daoist work, and mention it in a poem demonstrates his obviously deep connection to Daoist philosophy.

Originally, Chen Taijiquan was made up of five empty hand forms, one set of Long Fist (changquan- 108 movements) and one set of Cannon Fist (paochui) along with weapon sets for most, if not all, of the 18 traditional Chinese weapons. Although the movements in the routines were Shaolin based hard style techniques, Chen Wanting is credited with creating an unique martial arts system by adding concepts based on Daoist philosophy and internal energy practices. He added the concepts of Daoyin (dynamic Qigong) and Tuna (meditative breathing exercises), incorporated concepts from Chinese Medicine, and made prominent the Daoist concept of Yin/Yang. Observing the movement of Qi in the body, he developed the concept of chansijing or reeling silk energy; moving the Qi in spiral patterns to increase the effectiveness of the grappling movements found in the form. He also created the tuisho (push hands) exercise to teach the concepts of sensitivity and stickiness so that the techniques could be practiced safely.

For many generations the art was taught only in the Chen Village. Over the years it went through changes and refinements. Chen Changxing (1771 - 1853, 14th Generation) a 14th condensed the original five routines into two; the First Routine (yilu) and the Second Routine (erlu) also know as Cannon Fist (paochui). These routines are still practiced today and are virtually unchanged from the 1800's. It is also at this time that the first known outsider was able to learn the Chen Family martial art. Yang Luchan, a native of Hubei, went to the Chen Village to learn Taijiquan. He eventually moved to Beijing and began to teach Chen Taijiquan openly. We will discuss Yang Luchan and his legacy in another blog post.

Around 1900, Chen Xin (1849-1929, 16th Generation) spent twelve years of his life writing “The Illustrated Canon of Chen Family Taijiquan”. This book, which is still available today in both Chinese and English, described both the theory and practice of the martial art. He includes sections concerning the relationship of Chen Taijiquan to the Yijing (Book of Changes) as well as the flow of internal energy and the theory of Yin/Yang. Also included are detailed descriptions of many of the key movements of the two routines complete with line drawings. While not an easy book to read, it contains the core of Chen Taijiquan and is an essential reference for all advanced practitioners.

The next major change came with Chen Fake (1887-1957, 17th Generation). He made changes to the original routines highlighting the spiral Qi movements of Silk Reeling energy which were much less apparent previously. This made the forms easier to learn and understand for beginners. In addition to changing some of the intentions and applications of some movements, he also added a few, increasing the total of the 1st Routine from 75 to 81. The new routines eventually came to be known as the New Frame (xinjia) while the original two are called the Old Frame (Laojia). Chen Fake taught mainly in Beijing and became very well known and respected in the martial arts community.

Chen Fake taught the new routines to his children including his youngest son Chen Zhaokui (1928 - 1981, 18th Generation). Born in Beijing, in 1973 he returned to Chenjiaguo and began teaching the New Frame routines to the next generation of practitioners.

Perhaps the most influential teacher and promoter of Chen Taijiquan was Chen Zhaopi (1893 -1972, 18th Generation).  Zhaopi, also known as Jifu, was an accomplished practitioner of the Old Frame and taught openly in many places in China. He wrote several books on the art and returned to the Chen Village in 1958. By all accounts a generous and patient instructor, he was the primary teacher of the four Grandmasters of the 19th Generation.

The four living Grandmasters are:
 Chen Xiaowang 1945 -
 Chen Zhenglei 1949 -
Zhu Tiancai 1944 - 
Wang Xian 1944 -

In addition, Chen Xiaoxing 1952 - , Chen Xiaowang’s younger brother, is also a well respected master who has administered the Chen Taijiquan Martial Arts School in Chenjiaguo for over 35 years.

These Masters have taught all over the world and are credited with bringing Chen Taijiquan out of obscurity and into the modern world. The popularity of Chen Taijiquan, the Chen Family Martial Art, is increasing every day both inside China and abroad. Thanks to modern scholarship and the teachings of these four Grandmasters, Chen Taijiquan is finally being recognized as the original martial arts system known as Taijiquan.

Note: Sometimes generations of Chen Taijiquan students are dated from Chen Wangting which would make the current Grandmasters part of the 11th Generation

 1. Chen Style Taijiquan, Zhaohua Publising House, Beijing. 1984

2. Li, Wen Tao - “Introduction to Tai Chi Quan and Tai Chi Chi Kong”, Guang Quing Publications, Kowloon, Hong Kong 1986

Teacher Gong and the Three Magic Circles

Back in 1988 I began studying Fomen Jiu Gong Zhang (Buddhist Nine Palace Palm) Qigong in Zhengzhou city in China, where I was living. The classes were held at a local hospital. All the students except me were patients there and the class was their therapy. The students practiced eight hours a day. Most of that time was spent doing the exercises but there were also academic classes held for a couple of hours in the afternoon. I wasn't able to attend all the classes and practice sessions because I had a job teaching English at a local technical institute. I also didn’t really have the Chinese vocabulary for Qigong theory and Chinese philosophy back then so I chose to skip most of the lectures. Besides, Teacher Gong and the others all had pretty heavy local accents and it was a challenge for me to understand them clearly. Whenever I was free however, I would attend the morning and evening practice sessions.

The practice sessions were an hour long and we would  generally practice one movement for the entire time. It was pretty tough. The system was a mix of Buddhist and Daoist Qigong and combined active (Daoyin) and static (Tu Na) postures. It required a lot of concentration and could really wear you out until you got used to it. It was not all dull practice, however. Occasionally, Teacher Gong planned something special. On one such evening, after the practice session, we were asked to gather in one of the rooms off of the courtyard. Teacher Gong introduced us to an older women. He asked us to perform the first posture which consisted of standing with feet together and hands in prayer position while mentally reciting a mantra. As we held this position the woman began to sing/chant some kind of song which sounded improvised to me. The vibrations she produced had quite an interesting effect on us. The power of the rhythm and the vibrations the music produced were quite strong. It was very relaxing and put me in a kind of other worldly state. I didn’t catch the explanation of the purpose of the exercise, but over all it was a very enjoyable experience.

After that, Teacher Gong’s son drew three circles on the floor with some chalk. In each, he drew the Chinese characters for “fire”, “water”, and “wind”, respectively. He then picked up a peach wood sword and traced the character in each circle in the air with it. Peach wood swords are believed to amplify Qi and are often used by Daoist monks in their magic rituals, especially exorcisms.

Teacher Gong’s son told us to step into the circles one at a time. He said that when we stepped into a circle, we would  feel the effects of the element whose character was written there. I watches as several students stepped in and out of the circles. When finished they huddled together excitingly comparing experiences. Finally it was my turn. I stepped into the “fire” circle. I expected to be overcome with a blazing heat but to be honest, I didn’t feel much of anything. It was a cold November evening and I was dressed pretty warmly so perhaps I just wasn’t aware of a change in temperature, if any.

Although I didn’t feel much in the fire circle, the water circle was a very different experience. As soon as I stepped inside, I felt a kind of rippling current wash over me. It wasn’t exactly like floating in water but it did feel like waves were gently flowing over me. It was very pleasant and relaxing. To my surprise, I found I was actually quite reluctant to leave the circle.

The gentle waves of the water circle did not prepare me for the intensity I was to experience in the wind circle. While waiting my turn, I had seen people in the wind circle being literally blown out of the center of the circle. Stepping in myself, I immediately felt a intense pressure from one direction. It was so strong that it felt like it was pushing me to one side. It was actually a little scary so I was happy to get out of that circle. I found myself wanting to spend more time in the water circle but class was almost over and it was time to leave. It was quite a memorable experience that helped me see that Qi is an objective phenomenon and not just a subjective one. I haven’t tried to recreate this experience myself, but maybe I will one day.

I think this is a good example of how spaces can react to Qi. Qi can leave residue that can be absorbed in the floor, walls, and ceiling of a given room. The residue can be good or bad. This can explain why we feel good in sacred spaces which are continually filled with positive energy, and bad in places where bad things have happened. That is why it is so beneficial to practice Qigong in your home as you can fill the space with positive energy that over time will make the room resonate with light and peace. It also a reminder that it is important to regularly clean your practice space of turbid Qi, which we will discuss in a future article.

Involuntary Movements

I mentioned few posts back about involuntary movements being sometimes experienced during Qigong practice. Some people may occasionally  experience a quivering or jerking sensation while practicing. People receiving acupuncture treatment sometime notice this phenomena as well. These movements are usually quite harmless and disappear as soon as the practice ends. If the involuntary movement does not stop with the cessation of practice however, or if you continue to experience involuntary movements when not practicing, this could be a sign of a Qi deviation. In such cases, you should contact a Qigong instructor or acupuncturist at once.

My first experience with involuntary movements came when I was studying Fomen Jiu Gong Zhang in China in the late ‘80's. The very first posture is a static one. You simply stand still with your hands pressed together in prayer position while mentally reciting a mantra. One day soon after I began studying, a group of about 20 others and I were practicing this posture in the courtyard of the hospital. Since it was the only posture we knew so far, we were supposed to hold it for the entire hour of practice.

After about ten minutes or so, I thought I heard someone nearby clapping. I thought maybe someone had seen me, a foreigner, practicing Qigong with the group and was trying to get my attention. This was not as unusual as it may sound. Foreigners were still pretty rare in China at that time and anything I did in public was sure to command a lot of attention. I decided to ignore it, hoping the person would get bored and move on. However, even after a couple of minutes, the clapping did not stop. If anything, it got louder and faster. It didn’t sound like normal applause either, it was more staccato, like a jackhammer.

This seemed really odd to me so I opened my eyes to see what was going on. Contrary to what I had imagined, there was no zealous spectator on the sidelines cheering us on. Instead, the clapping sound was being made by one of the other students. She was standing with her hands in prayer position banging them together rapidly with her eyes still closed. “This is weird,” I thought,
“Why in the world is she doing that?”.

Just then I saw some movement out of the corner of my eye. Several of the other students were moving also. One was swaying back and forth, while another was making big circles at the waist with her torso. One man was actually taking short steps this way and that while others were moving their arms in jerky motions. Though I would later learn that these types of involuntary movements were not unusual, at the time I thought it was very odd.

During the next practice session, I ignored the clapping and shuffling and really concentrated on my practice. After a while, I began to feel as if I was being pulled backwards. I tried to ignore it but it wouldn’t go away. I began to get a little concerned so I opened my eyes. The sensation went away immediately. I looked behind me. Unlike the poor student I mentioned in a previous entry, there was no one behind me playing a practical joke. There was nothing there that would explain the sensation. I closed my eyes and went back to reciting the mantra. The sensation of being pulled soon returned; stronger this time. Rather than trying to fight it, I decided to relax and accept it. Eventually, the  pulling sensation became so strong that I felt I was going to fall. I was forced to take a step backward in order to keep my balance.

After I stabilized myself, I felt as if there was a string attached to my sternum that was pulling me forward. I resisted for a bit until the sensation grew too strong. I gave in and let it pull me forward, once again taking a step to catch my balance. As soon as I stopped my forward momentum, I could feel myself being pulled backwards again only to be pulled forward yet again as soon as I was still. Soon I was taking several steps forward, catching my balance and then being pulled several steps backward. I had to open my eyes slightly to make sure that I didn’t run into anyone.

The sensation of being pulled by unseen forces was not unpleasant and I was not afraid at all. It was actually kind of fun. I felt that I was in complete control if I chose to be. If I consciously resisted the sensation or opened my eyes, it stopped. Later, I asked Teacher Gong about this and he explained that involuntary movements were not unusual or harmful. It was the vigorous movement of Qi that caused the spontaneous motions. It was actually a positive sign that one’s practice was working, though it did tend to tire one out. Sometime later, I found myself moving in circles during practice. One of the teachers was quite impressed and said that I was moving in a Baqua (Eight Diagram) pattern and that this was a good thing.

Even though involuntary movement is not scary, I’ll admit that it does keep me from practicing that posture as much as I should. It’s just not the kind of thing I’m looking for when I practice Qigong and I find it kind of bothersome. That’s not really a good excuse to keep from practicing, however.  Most involuntary movements resolve themselves over time as the various channels open. The best thing is just to continue to practice and ignore it until it goes away (remembering the cautions at the beginning of this article, of course). In the end, voluntary moments are simply benign manifestations of Qi and something you just need to work through.

Naughty Boys

I began studying Qigong in 1988 while living in Zhengzhou city in Henan province, China. I had come across a flier advertising a course to be taught at the local hospital. The system was called Fomen Jiu Gong Zhang or “Buddhist Nine Palace Palm” and been handed down in the Gong family for many generations. The class was prescribed as medical therapy and all the other students were patients at the hospital. The classes lasted all day. There were practice sessions in the morning and evening and academic sessions in the afternoon. I attended class as whenever I was not teaching English classes at my college. Over the course of a couple of months, I experienced a number of unusual things while studying.

Our instructor, Teacher Gong, always brought his adult sons along to help with the class. One day, early on in my training, about 20 of us were practicing in the courtyard, with Teacher Gong and his sons supervising. We were doing a static posture and  had been holding it for quite a long time. I was new to Qigong and my concentration was not what it should have been. Like most beginners, I was getting bored so I opened my eyes just a bit to see what was going on. The rest of the class were standing stock still, exhibiting all the concentration that I lacked. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see one of Teacher Gong’s sons moving through the crowd, heading in my direction. I quickly shut my eyes, hoping he wouldn’t be able to see that I had been goofing off. I waited for him to arrive. After some time, I opened my eyes slightly and noticed he was standing about 5 to 10 feet behind a nearby student. Curious, I let go of all pretense of practicing and began watching him closely.

As I watched, he extended his arms towards the back of the student. Slowly he pulled his arms back, as if he was a mime pulling taffy or a long rope. As he pulled, the student began to sway backward, almost losing his balance. A couple more pulls and the student did lose his balance and had to step back to catch himself before he fell. He righted himself but was soon pulled off balance again. Each time he would set himself only to be pulled backwards by Teacher Gong’s son. Soon he was taking several steps backwards in order to keep from falling over. All this time he had his eyes tightly shut and had no idea that Teacher Gong’s son was behind him.

Tiring of this, Teacher Gong’s son decided to try something different. After giving the student a few minutes to recover his equilibrium, he started making pushing motions. Sure enough, the student began to lean  forward as if something was pushing him from the back. As the teacher’s son continued to mime pushing, the student leaned farther and farther forward until he was forced to take a step to catch his balance. Just as before, each “push” was stronger until the student was forced to run several steps to keep from falling down.

Why didn’t the student just open his eyes and find out what was going on? Involuntary movements are common when practicing Qigong so it is not unusual to find yourself moving in odd ways for no apparent reason. The student probably thought that the movements were a  natural byproduct of his practice. He had no reason to suspect that someone was actually “messing” with him.

After a while, Teacher Gong’s other son noticed what was happening and decided to join in on the fun. He stood in front of the same student and began to make the same pushing motions. Now, as soon as the student recovered from being pushed forward, he found himself being pushed backwards. There were mischievous smiles on the faces of Teacher Gong’s sons as they gently pushed the poor, unsuspecting student forward and back.

Perhaps sensing that this was not practice as usual after all, the student finally opened his eyes. Laughing, the boys explained what they had been doing. The student looked puzzled at first, but then, realizing he had just experienced a true manifestation of Qi, he joined in the laughter. The whole class then gathered round as the two explained what had happened. Several students immediately volunteered to be pushed and pulled around. It was all good natured fun but Teacher Gong finally had to intervene in order  to get everybody back on track. That was my first experience with the power of Qi but there were soon to be others.

Published June 11,  2015