Marc Chagall
Tai Chi study may lead us to concoct theory after theory about the ' ultimate technique' or the ' golden key to all the movements', but Chagall is always going to be right.
We may notice something works better or feels incontrovertibly correct, and then naturally want to repeat this, thus generating another theory, to explain and codify . In this respect, we are following the core scientific method of going from observed phenomenon to testable hypothesis.
But of course this is when the mystery and depth are probably going to vanish. So should we pretend to be stupid, blindly believing while taking no responsibility for what is shown us? Should we reduce every direct and vivid experience to the mere verbal recollection? Somewhere between there may be a third choice.
Every human adult has approaching 11 billion neurons in the brain and body, apparently, each of which connects directly to at least one other, and many to hundreds. This staggering complexity is something we embody physically, yet it stays intellectually beyond reach. When the stream of information is so immense and complex, we often resort to art or poetry, or even religious expression.
A so- called 'fractal' image is a small set of mathematical instructions, plus growth through repetition. Inside the largest, most overwhelming 'fractal image' is a consistent idea, succinct and with no clue of how things will end, as if an idea can set a whole universe in motion.
Surely an artistic or a spiritual insight is simple, even though the effects can be far reaching.
It seems to me that applying an insight to one's practise is subtly different to applying a theory. That is, a theory risks being reductive while an idea is always expansive. An idea spreads and permeates.
In Tai Chi learning we have a notion of 'lamination'. Practise plus idea plus time adds layer upon layer, until we're as resilient, balanced and load- bearing as hundred- layer plywood.
