Tai Chi

I finally made it, I was in Tai Chi class! Who would have thought! Among the stay-at-home moms and ladies in their late 60s, I felt alone and comfortable. I did not have any connection to either group and yet was safe.

Moving through water, feeling every inch of my body succumb to the weightlessness of the situation, allowing the air to freely move through my lungs...what was I doing? This was not me. This was not the person I knew. I never let go. I never stopped and analyzed. Everything was done in-transit, on the fly, in spur of the moment.

The instructor slowly and repetitiously moved in front me, gaining momentum and gliding through each pose with envious levity. I hate the images of samurai warriors and karate masters jumping in my brain, reluctantly stimulating the will of this confused body, moving it in ways that seemed foreign and unnatural. I kept saying 'yes, you have to do this, don't stop'. My hands moved withouth any effort and my eyes did not blink. I was to memorize these mysterious movements. I was to let this 'enlighten' my life.

When the class was over, I slowly swam along the edge of the pool, allowing others to leave, to disappear, to let me be. Feeling of being light as a feather, combined with zombie-like stillness of the pool made a wonderful after chill-factor cocktail. I wanted to stay still and not move. I wanted to become the single molecule of chlorine liquids, flowing through my swim suit. I wanted to melt and merge. So, this was the 'enlightenment' I was seeking - a complete resistance to the natural forces of gravity, a rebellion against the norm.

I did not ponder the situation any further. The sounds of children splashing nearby and older ladies kvetching about the noise make reality slip back into the 'norm'. I was back in my skin, loosing the sense of levity and gaining the heaviness of my body. Strong body odor of nearby crowd made the feelings of dread appear slowly. I perceived it as do or die and quickly exited the aquimarine shelter of peace.

When you are exercising, what any trainer will say is 'BREATHE'. When you are troubled and you are freaking out, what any person will say is 'BREATHE'. When you're happy and relieved, they say 'TAKE A DEEP BREATH'. The question is WHY? Why do we need to breathe? What is the purpose of that magical inhalation/exhalation process that makes it all alright? Scientifically, quite simply an exchange of bad/good gases. Philosophically, an exchange of good/bad feelings. So, what was I exchanging in that 50 minutes of curious body movements and zen music? What was the result?

I thought about it all the way home. I thought about it all through dinner. I thought about over and over. My conclusion was rather simple: I was not exchanging, not by a long shot. I was inhaling the life around me, finally, without a concern of the consequence and eagerly awaiting the unknown to come right afterwards. I was gaining back the streingth to force myself to experience, withouth considering all the if's and what's. I was living. I was not breathing. I was eating the air around me.