Four Things That Are Always True: A Contemplative Meditation Program—Truth #3 (and perhaps the most ignorant thing a taiji player could say)

New! Listen to an AI generated podcast summary and discussion of this article . . .

Author’s note: If you are not familiar with the preceding part(s) of this article, my suggestion is to first read Part 1, which contains a more complete introduction. For those that may be dropping in without have read preceding parts, I repeat a condensed introduction in Parts 2-4 so that each can be read as a stand-alone article. My apologies if the tone is didactic—my goal is to share my thoughts as clearly and concisely as possible and, hopefully, to learn from your feedback.

Regarding human experience, thought, emotion and behavior, there are four things that are always true (what some may call “subjective truth,” or that which is dependent upon the mind). This article addresses Truth #3—one that will be very familiar to you, my fellow taiji players.

There are three very important things to know about the four truths:

1. As the four things are always true, they underlie every human situation.
2. Each of the four things contains either a definition of love or describes conditions necessary for love to exist.
3. The four things that are always true are the first principles of all universal spiritual precepts and philosophical thought.

In the previous two parts of this series I had limited the last bullet point above to universal spiritual precepts only. As will be asserted below, spirituality and philosophy are a complementary pair, two polar expressions of an underlying unity (and with identical functional purpose), and so I have now expanded this statement to more correctly reference the integral unity of spiritual and philosophical thought.

For each part of this article series I will identify 1) one of the four things that are always true, 2) how each thing is a definition (or condition) of love, 3) universal spiritual precepts that evolve from the truth, 4) examples of how the truth may be used as a contemplation in meditation, and 5) taiji practice principles and notable wisdom related to taiji practice that emerge from each underlying truth.

The truths are universal (by definition) and, to quote Ecclesiastes, there is nothing new under the sun. But the specific list, and the idea that all universal spiritual precepts, philosophical thought, and definitions of love unfold from these four truths, are mine.

To resume the list. . .

Truth #3 – Complementary Duality

"For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven:
a time to be born, and a time to die;
a time to sow, and a time to reap;
a time to kill, and a time to heal;
a time to break down, and a time to build up;
a time to weep, and a time to laugh;
a time to mourn, and a time to dance;
a time to throw away stones, and a time to gather stones together;
a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing;
a time to seek, and a time to lose;
a time to keep, and a time to throw away;
a time to tear, and a time to sew;
a time to keep silence, and a time to speak;
a time to love, and a time to hate;
a time for war, and a time for peace." 

-Ecclesiastes 3:1-8 (approx. 450-200BCE)

"God is day and night, winter and summer, war and peace, surfeit and hunger."  

-Heraclitus (approx. 500 BCE)

Duality is the third of the four truths that underlie all experience. Yes dear reader, taiji, the interaction of complementary pairs, is one of the four things that are always true. (Note here that by “duality” I refer to the universal philosophical, spiritual and even scientific understanding of interdependent complementary pairs, as symbolized in the yin/yang diagram. Below I hope to convey the complexity and depth of the yin/yang idea, as against the simple reductive dualisms that describe duality as distinctly separate and opposing forces. Examples of the latter included Descartes’s famous proposal that the body and soul are distinct and incompatible, or religious concepts of duality as irreconcilable forces (e.g. good vs evil, heaven vs. hell) that divide the universe. Descartes, of course, was forced to placate the Church with his philosophical pronouncements. He knew well that the fate of those challenging the Church’s authority was persecution or death; his philosophy of body and soul was a political statement that allowed him to continue his work as a pioneering scientist. With regards to religious thinking I have no further comment, as this blog is not about holding on to beliefs in the absence of verifiable evidence, but rather universal wisdom that is justified and verifiable.)

I know you taiji players are well aware that taijiquan is based upon yin/yang philosophy (it is, after all, in the name), but perhaps you have not recognized duality as a central component of reality, as one of the four things that are always true (as perceived by human minds). But of course yin/yang philosophy underlies taijiquan practice; yin/yang is everywhere, all of the time. Finding yin/yang theory in taijiquan is a bit like throwing a rock in a lake and trying to hit water. You can find yin/yang theory in most anything, if you know how to look.

There are two points I wish to emphasize here.

Understanding the Interdependence of Complementary Pairs

The first point is that, in order to understand yin/yang philosophy (and therefore taijiquan theory), you must understand the ways in which yin/yang pairs are interdependent. The famous text from Ecclesiastes above emphasizes the cyclical nature of “every matter under heaven.” Cyclic flow/change is one characteristic of yin and yang. Complementary pairs are dual manifestations, often presenting as opposites, of the same underlying force or aspect of nature. They are:

1. mutually dependent – one does not exist without the other. There is no good without bad, day without night, life without death;
2. relative – what is high from one perspective may be low from another;
3. dynamic – yin/yang are in constant flow. As one decreases the other increases; the extreme of one is the birth of the other; and
4. non-absolute – as symbolized by the dots on the yin/yang diagram, the “seed” of one is contained within the other. Neither is thoroughly dominant and they are always intertwined. This is basically a tautological statement, for if either of a pair were absolute, or 100%, then it’s complementary would be nonexistent, or 0%.

An Example: Spirituality and Philosophy

I would contend that spirituality and philosophy can be understood as a yin/yang pair—not simply opposites, but mutually arising, interdependent aspects of our search for truth. Like yin and yang, they are relative, dynamic, and non-absolute: each contains the seed of the other, each gives rise to the other when taken to its limit, and neither can be fully understood in isolation.

Spirituality tends toward the yin—intuitive, inward, experiential. It is experienced through emotion, presence, and the felt sense of connection. It seeks understanding through being, rather than through analysis.

Philosophy tends toward the yang—structured, outward, reflective. It sharpens the intellect through questioning, reasoning, and seeking clarity. It pursues truth by way of thought and distinction.

Yet these are not fixed categories. When spirituality becomes too diffuse or untethered, it invites the grounding of philosophical reflection. When philosophy becomes too rigid or abstract, it awakens a longing for the immediacy and depth of spiritual experience. They co-arise, each enriching the other.

Together, they form a whole. Spirituality brings depth to thought; philosophy brings clarity to feeling. One embodies truth, the other examines it. As two interdependent parts of a unified whole, when held in balance they offer not just knowledge, but a more complete and living wisdom—a path toward (as identified in Part 2 of this blog series) that which all desire: inner peace, tranquility, and contentment.

Universality of the Philosophy of Complementary Pairs

The second point is that, like all universal truths, the recognition of duality lies at the core of all major philosophical and spiritual traditions. By no means were the Chinese the only ancient peoples to recognize complementary pairs as a fundamental manifestation of nature (but they did come up with the catchiest name and most awesome logo for it ☯ 🙂 ).

Duality is a central theme in the classical Greek and Roman literature that has profoundly influenced Western civilization and culture. The Greek philosopher Heraclitus (approx. 540-480 BCE) described everything there is to know about how complementary pairs are interdependent. (I chose the universality of yin/yang philosophy, exemplified by the nature of duality as described by Heraclitus, as the subject of my first blog entry here in 2018.) Socrates (approx. 470-399 BCE) based his first argument for the existence of the soul on Heraclitus’ philosophy of the unity of opposites. Early Hebrew thought did not distinguish the soul and body, and most new testament scholars agree that the historical Jesus expressed the Pharisaic model of bodily resurrection and judgement (as directly opposed to a soul that exists separate from the body). The very concept that the soul is the true self, separate from the body which is only a temporary vessel, originated in Greek philosophy (especially Plato) and was gradually adopted and incorporated into Christian and some Jewish thought. Plato’s concept of the soul was, in turn, founded in part on Socrates’ understanding of complementary opposites—that it is a “universal law” that “opposites are generated the one from the other,” that birth and death are complementary, and that therefore that the “souls of the dead must exist somewhere whence they come into being again.” (Phaedo 70-72). The Hellenistic philosophy of the universality of complementary duality has had a profound influence upon western culture, indeed.

As further example of the influence of yin/yang philosophy upon western culture, duality is also central to the lessons of classical Greek mythology and tragedies, manifesting in contrasting ideas, forces, or characters that define and shape the human experience. Examples of duality in the ancient Greek and Roman classics include power and weakness, divinity and mortality, order and chaos, reason and emotion, and fate and free will.

Complementary Duality in Science

In the introduction to Part 1 of this meditation program I noted that this is a humanities treatise, so by proposing the four truths I am not referring to “scientific laws or physical constants, logical or mathematical truths or tautologies but rather truths regarding human experience, thought, emotion and behavior.” That said, there is one irresistible connection to be noted between the philosophical concept of complementary opposites and quantum physics. Quantum mechanics deals with the behavior of matter and energy at the atomic and sub-atomic level—what all things are made of. Wave/particle duality is a cornerstone of quantum mechanics. According to classical (i.e. old-timey Newtonian) physics, particles are distinct localized objects with well-defined positions and trajectories. No two particles can occupy the same space. Waves are the apparent opposite. They are continuous and extended, meaning that they do not have a well-defined position but are spread throughout space and can occupy multiple locations at once and overlap with other waves.

In classical physics something can either be a wave or a particle, but certainly not both. According to quantum theory, however, all matter is made of “particles” that behave as either a wave or a particle, depending on how it is measured. Neils Bohr, one of the most influential scientists in the development of quantum mechanics, referred to wave/particle duality as the principle of complementarity. That opposing manifestations of quantum reality are complementary, and not contradictory, so parallels yin/yang philosophical theory that Bohr selected the yin/yang diagram as a central design feature on his coat of arms.

Physicists still today struggle with interpretations of wave particle duality. Einstein famously disagreed with Bohr and believed that the mathematical wave functions (which describe the probability of outcomes) didn’t represent an actual physical reality but were just a tool for making predictions. (No dis to Albert, but a recent MIT study verifies the apparent reality of wave/particle duality.) Interpreting mathematical equations can be tricky and a “shut up and calculate” school of thought is common in physics today—at least amongst those that wish to publish in leading journals that focus on how well the theory or experiment works rather than the deep philosophical questions about its interpretation. Nonetheless, one can imagine Heraclitus or Laozi responding with an “of course” if told of modern science’s understanding of the complimentary duality fundamental to all physical matter.

Apologies for that digression into the hard sciences but it was too obvious to resist. We could list many more instances of complementary pairs in the sciences, for example the 0s and 1s of computing, positive and negative charges of atomic particles (which are also waves 🙂 ), or maybe even the fundamentally complementary relationship of information and entropy. Unlike the mathematicians and scientists, however, we prioritize philosophical meaning, so on to a definition of love that flows from the third of the four things that are always true.

Definition of Love from Duality

Each component of a yin/yang pair contains the seed, or idea, of its complementary opposite. We may therefore define a thing by its opposite. So what would we attribute as the opposite of love?

The central thesis of this article series is that all “things that are always true” are definitions of, or the conditions necessary for, love. To follow the path of love is to understand, and to live life in harmony with, the things that are always true. This is the path espoused by all universal spiritual and philosophical teachings. It is the path (the only path, I would contend) that leads to lasting inner peace and contentment.

To follow the path of love is to understand, and to live life in harmony with, the things that are always true. This is the path espoused by all universal spiritual and philosophical teachings. It is the path (the only path, I would contend) that leads to lasting inner peace and contentment.

From this thesis a complete definition of the opposite of love would be “whatever is the opposite of the things that are always true.” But that would be an eleven-word description. From Truth #3, the principle of complementary pairs, what would the complementary opposite of love be in a single word?

Some would say that indifference is the opposite of love and I would agree, in that indifference is the opposite of both Truth #1 (everybody is different) and Truth #2 (everybody is the same). To be indifferent is to not care about what is unique in others, to not be receptive to and supportive of those differences, to not allow and encourage others to be themselves, to not recognize our shared needs, to not recognize that all are pursuing happiness and contentment. (If you just asked yourself “how could something be the opposite of both the same and different?” a wink and a tip of the hat to you. I’ll get to that but let me finish the four truths first.)

Others would answer that hatred or jealousy are the opposite of love. But hatred and jealousy both result from the same root cause: fear. Fear is the complementary opposite of love. As with all yin/yang pairs, you may increase one by decreasing the other; love (or the capacity to love) automatically grows in proportion to a decrease in fear. You cannot love that which you fear. The result of love is inner peace, contentment, bliss. Fear will always yield the opposite of inner peace, contentment, and bliss. (Until perhaps the fear becomes so great that the tipping point of “fuck it” is reached and the extreme of one complementary becomes the birth of its opposite.)

Universal Spiritual Principles Evolving From the Interdependence of Complementary Pairs

Universal spiritual principles of the first truth encourage us to know others (through a positive and inclusive attitude that fosters understanding, acceptance, and a more harmonious social environment), and to embark on the inward journey to know ourselves. Thomas Merton’s definition of love captures this well: “the beginning of love is to let those we love be perfectly themselves.” Including ourselves, I would add!

The primary spiritual principle of the second truth is compassion and empathy for fellow humans, as all have the same fundamental material needs and all desire inner peace. Buddha’s definition of love was to wish for other’s the sense of inner peace, contentment and bliss that he felt.

The Golden Rule inevitably flows from truth 1 and 2: to treat others the way that you would have them treat you. All else, the Jewish teacher Hillel said when speaking of the law, is “merely commentary.”

Acceptance, inward gazing, compassion, empathy, and the Golden Rule—this already is a fairly comprehensive enumeration of universal spiritual principles. To this list non-attachment, non-judgement, balance, and moderation naturally flow from understanding the duality inherent in nature.

Non-Attachment and Non-Judgement

If something is non-absolute and does not exist without its opposite, is relative to perspective, and in constant flow changing to and from it’s opposite, would it not be the epitome of foolishness to be “attached” to it? Or to judge it? Relationships change. Status changes. Everything changes. You can never step into the same river twice, as Heraclitus famously said. The water around you changes, and you change—your thoughts, body, emotions, and perceptions are always changing. You can go with the flow and row your boat gently down the stream or you can struggle against the current (for a little while), but flow it shall.

As noted in Part 2, it is not desire that brings emotional suffering. Desire is pure energy; the absence of desire is depression. You must have desire to do anything. It is attachment to the object of desire—when you have convinced yourself that you must achieve the desire—that brings suffering.

Understanding yin/yang further exemplifies the essential spiritual principle of non-attachment, as illustrated in the famous Chinese story of the farmer and the horses. In this parable a farmer experiences a series of apparently “good” and then “bad” events, with his neighbors expressing their congratulations or condolences after each event. The farmer, however, understands the interdependence of yin and yang. He knows that one can be the birth of the other, he knows that he cannot even know what will be “good” or “bad” in the end. While his neighbors swing to emotional extremes judging each event as fortunate or unfortunate, no event disrupts the farmers mental balance. He may prefer one outcome or the other, but he is not attached to any as he understands the interdependence of yin and yang.

Balance and Moderation

Balance and moderation are similar and sometimes used interchangeably, but they are slightly different concepts. Balance is the skill of coordinating competing forces, while moderation is the practice of limiting excess. Balance recognizes that yin and yang are both essential to a unified whole. Embracing the full cycle of opposites is necessary to live in harmony with the natural order. One-sidedness is despised by those traveling the way, to paraphrase the Dao De Jing. No extreme that is forced can last. “He who stands on tiptoe does not stand firm. He who rushes ahead does not go far…” (Dao De Jing, Ch. 24). Excess—whether in power, pleasure, ambition, or control—leads to destruction or reversal.

Wisdom lies not in absolutes, but in the flowing interplay between all things.

Wisdom lies not in absolutes, but in the flowing interplay between all things.

Truth #3 in Taijiquan Practice

Understanding the interdependence of complementary pairs is an essential beginning point for understanding taijiquan theory. Here are a few major examples of how the interplay of yin and yang underlies the philosophical ethos of taijiquan practice, sorted by the ways in which opposites interact listed above. I realize that you are likely quite familiar with these concepts, and I note these few examples only briefly here so we may then look at how misunderstanding yin/yang theory can lead to common misunderstandings of the methods and purpose of taijiquan practice. Quotes from the taijquan classics below were all taken from the Brennen Translation web site.

Each of a pair of opposites begets the other:

• Wuji is the mother of taiji. This is the first sentence of the Taijiquan Treatise, the ur text of the taijiquan classics. Taiji (grand extreme) comes from wuji (no extreme). In order to know taiji you must know wuji. How is wuji known? From meditation practice. Sitting meditation is called “wuji practice” in the internal martial arts tradition. Knowing wuji is the reason I began writing this four part contemplative meditation blog series. Wuji is not known intellectually. It must be experienced.
• Extreme softness begets extreme hardness. This is a quote from the classic text Understanding how to Practice the Thirteen Dynamics. Note here that extreme hardness is the desired result; it is the reason why extreme softness is employed. In taijiquan practice the extreme of softness (as in relaxing in standing meditation) is the birth of extreme yang—greater power through the learned neuromuscular recruitment of core strength. That relaxed “external” limbs connected through a powerful core is central to taijiquan (and all internal martial art) power is emphatically stated by Chen Yanlin in his Breakdown Chart of Taiji Boxing: “Taiji Boxing thoroughly emphasizes energy being externally soft and internally hard.”

The cyclic flow of yin yang is the rhythm of taiji movement:

• “Store, and then issue,” as instructed in Understanding how to Practice the Thirteen Dynamics. All taiji form movement is the cyclical flow of yin and yang. Storing energy is yin, releasing energy is yang. As my teacher always said, “how much you can store is how much you can release.” Yin and yang are not separate, they are one. “To gather is to release,” per the Essentials of Playing Hands. Heraclitus would approve.
• Harmonize with the opponent’s energy. The Taijiquan Treatise is very clear: “The basic of the basics is to forget about your plans and simply follow the opponent.” From Chen Weiming: “When he is full, I am empty. When he is empty, I am full. Fullness suddenly transforms to become emptiness. Emptiness suddenly transforms to become fullness. . . Once he is in disorder, I am free to issue power.” Not forcing one’s own desire but following the opponent and allowing yin/yang to emerge naturally and in harmony is wuwei (not forcing). This is the true spirit of “four ounces to deflect 1000 pounds.”

Yin and yang are non-absolute and relative:

• No movement is inherently yin or yang. Your intention (yi) is what determines yin or yang in any movement. Any movement could be storing, any movement could be issuing. Any movement could be taiji movement. Grandmaster Feng Zhiqiang frequently exhorted practitioners to “make the energy very clear”—to keep the the black and white of yin and yang energy crisp and to not allow the movement to blur into gray with no clear intention.
• Yin and yang are relative. If you are able to “wield power like tempered steel, so strong there is nothing tough enough to stand up against it” (from the Essentials of Playing Hands), even my yang may be yin to you.

Make no mistake, we are talking about tangible power in the physics sense—the ability to employ strength quickly and generate force to do work (i.e to move mass). As Grandmaster Feng said, “if you have the power, everything works.” (Fun fact: you are likely developing significant internal power if, upon seeing a large and very strong appearing person on the street, your first thought is that you would like to ask them to try to push you to test your neutralizing skill. I laughed out loud when a student told me he had this thought, because I remember thinking it myself back in the day.) Careful with all that power, though. You may end up hurting yourself if you don’t pay attention to nurturing.

Again, the Universality Thing . . .

As philosophy of complementary pairs is universal and underlies all, yin/yang theory is of course found across the spectrum of martial arts. Within taijquan there are different commercial brands, but there is one yin/yang theory, one store, one release, and 1000 ways to direct and express the force through short, medium, and long range distances (i.e. through the hips/shoulders, elbows/knees, and hands/feet). Within the internal martial arts there is one internal power/skill (nei dan gongfu), and one way of actualizing that power with the human body. Most martial arts, internal or external, espouse yin/yang theory in one way or another. Nearly all martial arts speak of the importance of relaxing and being loose and smooth, of following an opponent’s force, of attacking where the opponent is weak. Internal arts start with yin and develop yang; external arts start with yang but prize yin at their higher levels. As one example, here is a recent quote I came across from a famous jiu-jitsu practitioner and MMA fighter: “Jiu-jitsu is about sensitivity. It’s [about] vision for those at one level, but when you go to another level, it’s just sensitivity. You feel everything. Then you feel your opponent’s weaknesses when you put your hand on them.” Change jiu-jitsu to taijiquan in that quote and you have a “classics” ready verse.

I have written about the sameness of taijiquan with both the internal and external arts and so won’t run on any more about it here.

Perhaps the most ignorant thing a taiji player could say

Now that we have covered the *ways in which complementary opposites are interdependent* and looked at a few of the ways yin/yang theory informs taijiquan practice, we can now ask: how is it possible anyone could claim that they practice a “soft” martial art style? How could they say that their taijiquan style brand is softer than another?

Claiming that any style is softer than another directly contradicts yin/yang theory. Again, one complementary opposite does not exist without the other. At their extremes, each begets the other. The more you can store (yin), the more you can release (yang). To claim that you have more yin is to claim that you have more yang. By claiming to be “softer” one would, according to yin/yang theory, be claiming that they are “harder.”

In yin/yang theory one opposite is not more important that the other. Only by embracing the full cycle of opposites—rather than favoring one side over the other—can a person maximize performance and minimize effort. Only by not forcing one or the other, by balancing yin and yang, can one experience effortless action (wu wei).

I hear some thinking “what about using softness to overcome hardness?” Rubbish. Again, one opposite “overcoming” another is not yin/yang theory. One opposite does not defeat the other—they are each a part of a unified whole. But what about Chapter 78 of the Dao De Jing: “the soft can overcome the hard?” This little chapter is the famous metaphor of the power of “soft” water overcoming the hard, and it has a few meanings. Literally, water is “soft,” but the power of a wave is very hard indeed. Tell me how soft the water is after a wave slams you into the sand in the surf zone. Sure, over time even tiny drops of water can cleave a rock. But the summation of the forces of millions of drops of water, acting through both physical and chemical mechanisms, adds up to a huge total force. The extreme of yin is yang. Both are in the equation, not just one. Nothing contradicts physics. The rock is not cleaved until enough total force has acted upon it. This metaphor teaches the importance of persistence, the tortoise beating the hare. As the Dao De Jing was largely intended as a “how to” manual for rulers, the metaphor also may be understood as advocating for patience, humility, and gentle influence over aggressive, confrontational force. You can catch more flies with honey. It is decidedly not advice for the seconds, or even milliseconds, of time involved in a self-defense situation.

Nurturing

There is one way in which I would accept the claim that one’s practice is “softer” than another’s, and that is the attitude one has towards their practice. If your practice is excessively yang—if you practice with fear in your heart and, as a result, with aggression and brutality—you will, ironically but inevitably, only harm yourself.

Everything you do should be done with the intention of nurturing both yourself and your fellow students. In all practice you should gain energy and peace; your body should become stronger, not injured by over-use or excessive force. I’m 62 and I am far stronger than I have ever been. Barring unforeseen slings or arrows of outrageous fortune, there is no doubt but that I will be stronger yet in another ten years. For this to be possible, one’s overall attitude, as Grandmaster Feng famously emphasized, must be to always “pay attention to nurturing.” “Taiji is the gongfu (skill) of xujing (peacefulness and tranquility), that is the most important principle of all.”

Balance, as always, is the key. You practice slow so that you may be fast, with power and accuracy. You practice soft so that you may be hard. In order to understand and to continue improving, you definitely need feedback from fast movement and truly expressing power and moving mass. The heavy bag, the weighted slam balls, explosively releasing power (fajin), and a resisting push-hands partner will always give you honest feedback. (In the old days, just doing daily labor in the fields would suffice in informing if you have really achieved the efficient power that is the goal of all internal martial arts.)

Balance doesn’t always mean equal amounts, it means finding the right proportions. A little bit of testing is sufficient. For example, you should be able to do any movement explosively. But if you practice that movement slowly 100 times, once or twice explosively is enough to provide feedback. You don’t put equal amounts of chili peppers and beans in your chili, you find the right amount of each. That amount will be different for different people at different times in their journey.

Balance doesn’t always mean equal amounts, it means finding the right proportions.

A Contemplation from Truth #3

The beginning and end of this contemplation is the same as introduced in Parts 1 and 2—suggested contemplations arising from awareness of the interdependence of complementary pairs are highlighted in bold.

One universal truth remains . . .