How Tai Chi Helps Grief

Tai Chi is normally viewed as a low-impact exercise program.  Sure, it might help stretch joints, relax tight muscles, and get you breathing more freely- but that's it, right?

Numerous studies coming out recently suggest that Tai Chi also helps improve balance, improve heart health, and impart a general sense of well-being.  But it also helped me through stages of grief.

There have been some deaths in recent months that have touched my family.  My grandfather, suffering from Alzheimer's disease; my nephew taken from us by a rare brain cancer; a good friend of my husband and myself just a few days ago lost his battle with congestive heart failure.  These all touched me deeply, and brought tears to my eyes.  I felt their loss, and I felt how their passing touched others close to me, and I grieved with them, also.

But through it all I've tried, more or less successfully, to continue my Tai Chi practice.  There are days when I feel lethargic, or have spent around those grieving, where I missed my practice.  There have been days where I did not practice good habits and instead maybe drank a bit too much and lazed about watching YouTube videos.  Some days I went for a walk instead because my mind was whirling too much and I didn't want to take the time to pay attention to my forms.  There, too, were days when I did my forms, but was distracted and couldn't get them right even though I've been doing them a while and am fairly comfortable with them now.

The days, however, when I at least attempted my Tai Chi or Qigong practice, I have to say, supported the days when I did not.  There is a momentum with that practice, I feel, that continues even when I don't physically do the movements, the breathing, or practice the principles.

In the face of grief, awareness, mindfulness, or being able to come back to and rest in the present moment can be very healing.  When the mind wanders with thoughts of worry, death, or the persistent malaise of not knowing what comes next, being able to find stillness is very comforting.  No, it's not driving out the thoughts (because thoughts exist, I believe, in our physiology).  When in a dark mood, the body feels it.  That dark cloud that sits in the pit of your stomach, the heaviness of heart, the lump in the throat- those are all connected intimately, I believe, with feelings and thoughts and sometimes we cannot consciously control those feelings at all.  However, Tai Chi teaches us to be present with those feelings, to allow them to exist with us without the need for us to dwell on them, to feed them, to perpetuate them.  So even for a moment, breathing and feeling the body, acknowledging feelings but not doting on them, allows us a sort of eye in the storm.  At least for me, this is what Tai Chi brings to me.

Now, sometimes this practice is uncomfortable.  But mindfulness is not about being comfortable all the time- it's about honesty and the ability to appropriately measure our response.  Invite a pause, allow your body, through paying attention to what you feel inside, to relax gradually by stages, and don't judge yourself too harshly for being sad.  And keep going, keep practicing, and stay grounded.  Or at least, cultivate the ability, over and over again, to recognize when we are gathering internal tension, and consciously, sensitively, give it our compassion.

Thank you,
Justin