Remembering my Taiji master

More than 20 years ago the Serangoon Gardens Country Club started a taiji class. I belong to the first batch of students learning under a Master sifu . Several runs followed. All the students from the various runs who stayed on to practice every Sunday morning do so under the guidance of his son. This has been going on for more than 20 years. The old sifu will drop in occasionally to observe and correct our movement. Our practice includes 2 taiji styles, 2 fist forms, broad and thin sword form and stick form. As time goes by we evolve into our own habitual style and though the son (who leads us) occasionally corrects a participant whose movement is grossly out of alignment,most times he leaves us to our own devices.

Recently, the old sifu passed away at the age of 84. We attended the wake and our practice was suspended for a week . The Sunday morning when class resumed my mind kept travelling back to more than 20 years ago at that very same location and how young and fit sifu looked then; and how I too was very young then, a career woman trying to de-stress and keep fit while juggling between work and family. I thought about how skillful this man was who had taught ministers and MPs in his younger days. When I looked at the trees and the space above me while going with the flow of the movements, thoughts about death and impermanence surfaced.

It dawned on me that no matter how much skills he imparted, the perfection and precision went with him.  At most, they will be watered down. It is the same with whatever things we leave behind, a matter of fading memories. Strangely, as if he feels he must keep his father's skills alive, the son started to correct our movements the following Sunday. I imagined the old sifu smiling among the trees.  

The son has now announced he will be giving us refreshers ie. correcting our wrong movements bit by bit. I guess the least we can do is to try to uphold the skills imparted by the departed.