Greetings Jim,
Great post! It’s very thought provoking. So it’s good to know that you observe the movement in your feet, and that, together, we have answered the question that you raised in your initial post. However, some of the statements you make here cause me real concern and some of them I frankly don’t understand. So I may have further questions. That’s a good thing, right? Inquiry leads to more inquiry.
You remarked about the slight movements in your foot, “This is what I would call localized nerve activity which leads to gradations of extraneous movement in the supporting leg, for after all do the nerves in the foot not respond as well?”
Isn’t it more than what you call “nerve activity?” There are muscles, joints and tendons moving in the foot, leg and ankle. The foot has many muscles and joints that make it a remarkable adaptive structure that enables equilibrium in a standing human. Moreover, the neural activity is not exclusively a matter of causing movement; it is also feeding information back to the central nervous system that enables the body’s equilibrium as an adaptive response. Being sensitive to this feedback is one of the entailments of tingjin. Yi relies on the constant feedback of the neural system in order to make it adapt to changing circumstances.
Your statement, “The point on which I think we both would agree is that the yin side of the posture needs strength for strong rooting and building power.” is not a point I can agree upon, for I don’t understand what it means. What do you mean by “the yin side of the posture,” and what are the practical implications of this concept. In my view, a posture cannot be arbitrarily divided into a yin side and a yang side. The interplay of yin and yang can be observed in the rotation of an arm, in the palm of a hand, or in a finger – or in a foot. Again, when you say, “in order to achieve internal movements, yin and yang must be paired to form a junction at the right place in the torso,” I have to ask, what does that mean?
You write about “extraneous movements.” I think that’s a useful thing to talk about. In my view, however, extraneous movement is a matter of degree, of control, and of skill. Extraneous movement would be movement that is superfluous, unnecessary, uncontrolled, unskilled. But a case of no movement at all would not be a good thing in a human foot. Without the constant micro-adjustments of the muscles, joints and tendons in the foot and throughout the body, it would not be possible to maintain standing equilibrium. The practice of zhanzhuang helps the practitioner eliminate extraneous movement. But while in post standing we may emulate a post, the human body is not a post. Again, observe what’s going on in your feet while “standing still.” Even while standing still, there are constant micro-adjustments occurring that enable standing equilibrium. If you have a chance, have a look at a discussion thread here from some years back, on “Stillness in Movement,” in which I assert that equilibrium is a process, not a state. I cite some well-established kenesiological findings on standing posture in the human body. Audi makes some excellent observations on something he touched on in this current thread about relative motion.
viewtopic.php?f=7&t=722The notion of relative motion brings up something I think is important for understanding “movement” and “stillness” in taijiquan theory. Stillness can refer to a locus—or a position—that is still relative to other points of the body. Think, for example, of the axis of a rotating sphere. The axis is a point of stillness around which the sphere spins. The axis, however, is not a “thing” that does not move—it is a locus of stillness. Within the rotating sphere, there is no “matter” that does not move, not even at the axis. It all moves.
There’s another point I would like to make about the aphorism we’re discussing. It’s not an injunction. There’s no “should” or “must” saying that “all parts of the body must move.” It’s more of an observation, and an invitation to pay attention to movement and stillness in the body. The word 刻 (ke) means “to carve,” but reduplicated as it is in this saying (ke ke zai xin), it means “moment by moment.” So it means “bear in mind, moment by moment” that “when one part moves, there is no part that does not move.” It’s an observation of reality.
In your concluding paragraph, you write: “A good example on the importance of stillness (yin) is the sweeping leg move in which one stands on one leg and sweeps the other leg outward to kick the opponents feet from under him. I have demonstrated this move on my students, Hwa has done this moveDuring this move, if the body moves slightly with the sweeping foot, the power of the sweep will diminish. In addition, the knee of the standing foot will feel pain. Since that foot is firmly planted on the ground with the entire body weight on it, any turn of the body above will result in a torque in that knee joint causing pain or injuries. In other words, the yin part of the body's alignment has to be instinctively maintained.”
I must say that this is in fact a good illustration for some of the points that I’m trying to convey. Here again, I think there may be some confusion about what stillness entails. By stillness, I think you are referring here to position, not to absolute stillness of muscles and joints in the supporting leg or in the torso. Again, the muscles of the supporting leg and torso will be making constant micro-adjustments (movement) in order to maintain equilibrium. Try doing the movement you describe at the slowest possible pace, say, like stop-action photography slow. Observe how much movement is occurring in the supporting foot, ankle, leg, and in the torso, “moment by moment.” Let me know your findings.
Take care,
Louis