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About a year later Master Zhang Yun began teaching the Taiji Jian (double edged sword) to our class. Not without reservations, I began my initiation into Taiji weapons. First among my reservations was the thought that while I hope I never hit anyone in anger, I'm sure I will never deliberately stab anyone with a sword.

The main benefits I have gained from my study of the Taiji Jian can be classified as external and internal. Externally, the Jian form, like the open-handed form is composed of a series of movements meant to be practiced as one continuous relaxed movement. The Jian form is unlike the open-handed form in that it is practiced at a relatively fast pace with a changing rhythm and includes additional useful physical movements that are not encountered, or are encountered with less emphasis in the Wu Style open's handed form. In particular the cross-over step, leaning back to ward-off, and reaching far are moves that are encountered in the Jian form are not found in our Wu Style open-handed form. These external features of the Jian form make for both good martial arts practice and a flowing and graceful performance.

My puzzlement increased while learning the Jian form when I was instructed to change my mind from my left hand to the tip of the sword. My first glimmer of understanding about this elusive idea came through push?hands practice. During push-hands I learned that most people naturally move their mind (e.g. their center of awareness) to the areas of their body that are being pushed. This focus on the part(s) of the body being pushed tends to result in tension, stiffness, and double weightedness in those areas—just the opposite of how we want to feel when doing Taiji. Moving the mind away from the part(s) of the body being pushed does not mean leaving those parts weak and vulnerable to the attack. Deliberately moving yi (which for me, as a Westerner, tends to rest most comfortably behind my eyes) to specific locations within and outside the body helps to direct internal energy to those locations and to relax the contact points allowing us to respond to the attack with smooth relaxed movements and interactions that are not double weighted.

About Author:
Dr. Peter Kindfield's first martial art was Go Ju Kai Karate which he practiced when he was a late teen during the mid-70's. He has been practicing Tai Chi Chuan since 1992. His first two years of study were with Chen Man Cheng variants (Shu Fun Yen and William Chen) of the Yang style. Since then he has been studying Wu Style with Master Yun Zhang including an open-handed form, a sword form, a saber form, staff, and a spear form. He loves push-hands and believes that the essential message of Tai Chi Chuan is that while it is always natural to get tense in tense situations (e.g., when someone literally or metaphorically pushes or punches you), it is always more useful to relax. When he is not doing T'ai Chi he works as a science education consultant in New York City Schools and enjoys spending time with his family in Hillsborough NJ.

The traditional Taiji Jian is a double edge sword that is sharpest at its tip and dull near the handguard. The form taught by my teacher is a Wu style Taiji Jian 32 posture form that he developed under the guidance of Grand Master Wang Peisheng. This thirty-two posture form has, as its source, the traditional sixty-four posture Wu Style Jian form. No movements have been changed, but some of the more difficult and complex movements from the long form have been omitted and some of the remaining movements have been rearranged. All of the important features of the traditional Wu Style long form have been retained, but this short form can be mastered more quickly and easily and is, therefore, a good choice for people who have a limited time for practice.

The practice of Taiji Jian has a very special quality. While its applications are potentially deadly, its movements are beautiful with a flowing poetic quality. In Chinese, the names of the moves in the form are expressed as a beautiful poem. Even the names of individual moves, translated with difficulty from Chinese, capture this deadly/poetic duality. For example, a move where the tip of the sword is first pointed towards the sky at about a 35 degree angle and then flicked down with wrist to end up at the level of your opponents forehead is called draw a red dot between the eyebrows. This name was chosen because the result of the technique is a red dot of blood forming at the spot on your opponent's forehead where the Chinese have traditionally painted a red dot on their children's foreheads for good luck.

Internally, the idea of moving with intent is becoming clearer to me through the study of Taiji Jian. Many beginners see Taiji only as a series of movements to be practiced in a relaxed, smooth, continuous manner. This perception is incomplete. For Taiji Chuan to follow the principle of "yin within yang and yang within yin," each movement must be carried out in a relaxed, smooth, continuous manner with clear intent. While learning different applications of different Taiji Chuan movements was useful for me in learning to move with intent, the presence of a sword in my hands is a constant reminder (somewhat like a string tied around my finger) to fill my movements with intent. Master Zhang Yun places a great deal of emphasis on yi (roughly translated as mind) during both open-handed and weapons practice. During my first year of study with Master Zhang Yun I found his frequent instructions to place my mind in some part of my body (e.g., the tip of my index finger) quite disconcerting.

The final internal benefit of the Jian that I will discuss here is that I am learning how to integrate the gentle and aggressive components of my personality. In my everyday life I have a tendency to react to conflict first by yielding weakly followed by a tense expression of anger. Jian practice has been particularly useful as an example of integrating these yin and yang qualities in action because each movement must integrate yin and yang resulting in gentle but strong movements.

In addition to these internal and external benefits of practicing Taiji Jian, this practice is also giving me a greater understanding of its culture of origin. In particular, I am learning that traditional Chinese culture does not separate functionality and aesthetics in the same way as Western culture does. For example, in the West handwriting and martial arts are designed with a single minded focus on functionality while paintings and ballet are intended to be beautiful. In contrast Chinese calligraphy and martial arts are intended to be both functional and beautiful.

My experience with the Taiji Jian has shown me that the health, spiritual, and martial aspects of Taiji are indeed all interdependent and that for me, despite my lack of interest in stabbing anyone with a sword, studying this Taiji weapon has increased the benefits of Taiji in all of these domains.