Tai Chi Jones

[Apologies to Cheech and Chong's "Basketball Jones."]

Models in life, just as in science, are based upon observation; this is known as empiricism. However, it is the goal of science, as with any art, to improve upon that model. As much as it relies upon experience, it also relies upon logic. Logic is the structure upon which models may lead to useful prediction, despite its own well-documented limitations.

How does this apply to Tai Chi? Well, one may well ask how well it applies to personal balance. More than one model may apply equally to a particular situation. When I finally took the time years ago to read a full English translation of the Mahabharata, one passage stuck out for me from all of Bhishma's obviously political compendium of sermons: One goal, many paths.

Tai Chi is about personal discipline and balance: something I've never really accomplished to this day. Toastmasters have their own model, and I respect it, but the one thing I like about Tai Chi is: don't rush it. Stay calm and deliberate. Try to practice it every day. I've been really bad about following those points.

Right now I'm transcribing Benjamin Disraeli's Contarini Fleming, which he wrote while quite young, and already I'm enjoying its blend of romantic inspiration and self-deprecating facetiousness. Right up front, the main character is candid about his Quixotic flaws, and the fun of it helps dull the pain. Ultimately, however, Don Quixote is a really depressing tragedy.

Tai Chi is about cultivating one's garden, as Pangloss might say. It is carefully crafted to achieve both physical and psychological balance (as if the two may properly be separated!). But it is not a panacea. We all have our own situations with which we struggle. It depends upon us to develop the logic by which we may extend the model to guide our own lives.

April 15, 2026.


The Circular File