TRANSCRIPT

I’m Maggie Smith, and this is The Slowdown.

Tai chi is a mind-body practice that has roots as a martial art in China. Often described as "meditation in motion," tai chi involves movement, breath, and mindfulness.

Maybe you’ve noticed someone standing in a park, shifting their stance, moving their arms in a fluid motion. That was likely tai chi! It’s beautiful, even mesmerizing, to watch — like a choreographed dance. As you do tai chi, you breathe deeply and naturally, focusing your attention on the way your body feels as you move. The series of motions, which are designed to energize and balance qi — the energy that flows through the environment and the body — have Mandarin names that translate to phrases like “Wild Horse Parts Mane,” “White Crane Spreads Its Wings,” and “Snake Creeps Down.” As you can imagine, the movements of the arms and legs suggest those animal actions.

People of nearly any age or fitness level can practice tai chi. While it’s often done standing, it’s possible to do while seated, even in a wheelchair or hospital bed, which makes it an especially accessible practice. The movements are usually circular, slow, and done with relaxed muscles and joints. And because tai chi is low-impact, it’s generally considered safe for people with various medical issues, including heart disease and lung disease.

Tai chi has been an important part of traditional Chinese medicine for centuries, but people all over the world practice it today because it has both physical and mental benefits. The deep breathing can reduce stress and strengthen the lungs. The slow, coordinated movements can help joint function, relieve arthritis pain, and improve balance, which can in turn reduce the risk of falls in older adults. There’s also evidence to suggest tai chi can boost activity in your prefrontal cortex, the area of the brain responsible for higher level thinking and memory.

Today’s poem shows us that tai chi is not only meditation in motion, but also metaphor in motion.

Cloud Hands
by Arthur Sze

A woman moves through a Cloud Hands position,
                                    holding and rotating 

an invisible globe—thud, shattering glass, moan,
                                    horn blast—so many

worlds to this world—two men dipnet
                                    sockeye salmon

at the mouth of a river—from a rooftop, a seagull
                                    squawks and cries;

a woman moves through Grasp the Bird’s Tail—
                                    someone on a stretcher

is wheeled past glass doors—a desert fivespot
                                    rises in a wash—

and, pressing her tongue to the roof
                                    of her mouth, 

she focuses, in the near distance, on the music
                                    of sycamore leaves.

"Cloud Hands" by Arthur Sze from SIGHTLINES © 2019 Arthur Sze. Used with the permission of The Permissions Company, LLC on behalf of Copper Canyon Press.