CLASS REVIEW
The Austin Academy Of T’ai Chi Ch’uan
by Amy Bauer
 Since we live in a world where full meals take mere minutes to microwave, friends thousands of miles apart are a computer click away and the speed limit is a number to be negotiated, it’s often difficult to slow down our fast-paced lives. Many people turn to yoga as a way to slow down, at least for an hour out of their usual DSL-speed lives.
Others are turning to an even more alternative form of meditation — t’ai chi ch’uan. This practice, which originated in China, was originally designed for purposes of self-defense. Since migrating over to the states, it has slowly transformed and been refined into a slow, graceful, rhythmic exercise which has the effect of promoting good health, regardless of ones age or physical condition.
My first slow step into the world of t’ai chi ch’uan was under the instruction of Doug Jaques, a 56-year-old skydiving instructor who has been taking t’ai chi ch’uan since 1990. His instruction came from Master Kai Ying Tung’s Academy of T’ai Chi Ch’uan in Los Angles. Master Tung is a third generation master whose grandfather was one of the first to bring t’ai chi out of China.
There are many different schools of t’ai chi, but Jaques follows the Tung Family Yang style. He teaches the Long form, the Tung fast set, the Tung Family Set (fast and slow) and push hands. Though there are different schools, Jaques notes the importance of focusing and learning only one.
 “It’s hard to be eclectic in your practice because you can’t fully get into the depth of what you’re doing. Just as you feel like you are getting close to where you think you should be, you start to feel changes, the hips open up more or [you develop] a new level of concentration. It’s a never-ending learning and growing process.”
The class typically consists of a mix of men and women ranging in age from 20 to 80. The class attire is comfortable, loose-fitting clothing, usually a long-sleeved shirt and loose-fitting, cotton workout pants. Some of the class members wear socks while others wear kung fu shoes, which look like black slippers with light-weight padded soles, allowing for easier movement.
The hour-long class begins and ends with the students lining up in rows and bowing in order to pay their respect to those who came before them. The class starts off with the slow set. This involves a series of slow movements, their bodies leaning forward to one side and then slowly moving back. Hands move in time with their bodies, deflecting the imaginary opponent’s energy and releasing their own. Each individual in the class focuses on his or her own movements, but all move in unison. It was like a silent dance, each movement purposeful, yet not forced. There was no music or even noise in the brightly lit room. There was only the sound of deep breathing coming from the class members. It was like telling a story with bodies, hands, feet and fingertips — no real facial expressions, just a look of quiet concentration.
I was having a hard time focusing on the class initially because it’s difficult for me to slow my own pace down. My mind started to float to a phone conversation I had had earlier in the day, and the to-do list I needed to prepare for the following day. But I forced myself to concentrate on the class in front of me, and really try to understand what the purpose of the movements and the practice was about.
I looked around at each individual face and body — everyone seemed different — likely with their own to-do lists being hushed in their minds, too. But they all continued to move as one. Because the students all seemed so into the class, as it ended, I had them fill out questionnaires so I could find out what each person felt t’ai chi ch’uan had done for their lives. Some said it brought them better balance and flexibility; others said it helped them to concentrate and focus better in their outside lives. Still others said it had even improved physical ailments such as arthritis, due to the constant movement and stretching of limbs.
Danny Boone, an avid follower of t’ai chi, was visiting Austin and stopped in to join the impromtu class Jaques had so kindly arranged specifically for this class review. Boone, who also follows Master Tung, spoke very highly of the ongoing benefits of this practice.
“When you are first learning, many of the moves are difficult. Sometimes you may feel awkward and have problems remembering the moves. As you go along, better concentration becomes part of your practice. You may not even realize it at first,” Boone says. It seemed to be a class consensus that the benefits of t’ai chi ch’uan flow into their daily lives. “My mind wanders, but I just notice and bring it back. I also do this in my everyday life. I can often get carried away at work — everything can seem so important. But now I usually notice, and that breaks the chain — the chain of thoughts that builds one on another.”
Some class members stepped out of the group when they got to the point where they needed further instruction, while the remainder of the class worked on the fast set. After completing the fast set, Jaques often splits the class into groups, separating the levels and allowing everyone to practice at their desired pace.
Jaques says that Master Tung feels it’s important to learn both the fast and the slow set. He mentions the connection to the yin and the yang, stating the importance of balance attained by learning both the powerful martial set and the civil, slow set.
Class schedule: Every Wednesday from 8 p.m. to 9 p.m. at the Jewish Community Center, located at 7300 Hart Lane; 735- 8000. $11 per class for nonmembers; $8 for members. Tuesday classes are at Clear Spring Yoga Studio from noon to 1 p.m; $8 per class. For more information, contact Doug Jaques at the Austin Academy of T’ai Chi Ch’uan at 970-9731.
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