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Protection
of Joints and Connective Tissue in Taijiquan
by
Rick
Barrett
(Article first appeared
in Tai Chi Magazine, summer 2001)
Most taijiquan practitioners
are too strong for their joints. This is an observation
rather than a scientific fact, but one that bears some
examination. The number of taiji people with painful
and injured joints seems surprisingly high for a martial
art that professes to heal these things. I don't have
statistics to back up this point, but I am guessing that
the reader knows one or more in this category. Players
with knee, shoulder, elbow, finger problems seem to be
rather commonplace and I am guessing there are many more
who don't reveal their injuries.
A key element of taijiquan training is observing Nature.
What better place to start than your own body?
Simply put, joints have a preferred direction to their
movement, as well as an optimal range of motion. Hinge
joints, such as knees and most finger and toe joints,
operate along one axis. Pushed too far to the back
or side and they complain. A saddle joint like the
base of the thumb can operate on two perpendicular
axes, giving a wider range of motion.
Hips and shoulders are ball and socket joints that rotate
quite nicely within their easily determined range.
Connective tissues, such as ligaments, tendons, fascia,
cartilage, act to support joints in the execution of
their mission. Connective tissue is a continuous living
matrix that unites each cell in the body in an intelligent
energetic web.
Something less commonly known is that joints have an optimal
power zone. Exceed that zone and the load no longer
transfers smoothly through the joint, but begins to
strain the connective tissue supporting it. Sprains,
strains, tendonitis, tears, etc. result.
Golgi Tendon Organ.
In normally developed
musculature, one can easily find joint positions where
the load he tries to lift exceeds the ability of the
joint to do so safely. The nervous system of the body
has a mechanism called the Golgi tendon organ that is
designed to calibrate the load that the connective tissue
will support safely. It actually measures precisely the
net amount of force being delivered by a muscle. (See
JOB'S BODY by Deane Juhan)
There
are muscles in the body that have the power to uproot
the tendons right off the bone. The Golgis report directly
to the spinal cord and give a signal to the muscle to
relax if the tendon is pulled on too hard. This signal
is felt as pain if the early messages are ignored.
The higher centers of the brain can shape and even override
the Golgi response. Any activity where we learn to
sense precise effort, from taijiquan to tying a knot,
involves a dance between our conscious mind and this
primal reflex. Danger arises when we use our consciousness
to ignore the signals and "push through the pain",
causing the connective tissue supporting the joints
to stretched to the point of injury.
Learning
the hard way.
Years ago, I learned this the hard way. Training push hands,
I would get lost in the thrill of playing and push with
my shoulder in a disadvantageous position. Being a slow
learner, I did this again and again over a period of 3
years. Sometimes my rotator cuff would be so injured I
couldn't lift my arm without severe pain. (Interestingly
enough, I could always push through the pain if I had to.
I told you- slow learner!) Eventually, I tired of this
game and slowed things down enough to discover that there
were positions where my muscles were too strong for my
joints. From that I was able to develop an exercise program
to rehabilitate the shoulder completely. A more important
lesson was learning to listen to my body.
It seems like one of those "everyone knows that" ideas
until you look around you. Go to a gym and watch professional
trainers encourage clients to bring heavy weights down
to their chests for a bench press, straining elbow and
shoulder joints. Watch as a taiji student ignores the knee
pain and tries to emulate a teacher by going way too low
on one leg. The teacher through years of practice may have
developed the tissue to support such a move, but the student
sees only the external form and tries to copy that. A push
hands player tries to push with collapsed elbow and shoulder
and concludes he has "no power" when his efforts
are fruitless. Or worse, he pushes through his body's best
efforts to warn him and suffers a serious shoulder or elbow
injury.
Range
of Power.
So what are the optimal ranges for expressing force through
the joints?
Naturally,
one has to experiment with this idea and find his own
answers. It's not really an intellectual concept; it
is a felt sense. Once consciously aware of it, one can
then calibrate how much work he can do in what position.
I can lift a piece of paper with my arm in any position,
but I have to make some serious adjustments to pick up
a bag of cement.
Demonstration: A simple demonstration of this principle
is to stand facing a wall an arm length away. Very
slowly lower yourself toward the wall, supported by
one arm.
Notice
that it is relatively easy to support your body weight
with your arm extended (Photo 1) but becomes progressively
harder as you approach a 90 degree bend in your elbow.
The connective tissue around shoulder and elbow start
to tense and protest. Go past 90 (Photo 2) and you are
weakened substantially. Reverse it and notice that once
past 90 degrees it requires less effort again.
Demonstration:
Test the knee. Supported by a hand on a wall or railing,
slowly lower yourself on one leg and make similar observations.
Notice the narrow range where the leg is strong (Photo
3). Notice where the knee begins to protest (Photo 4).
Notice where you enter the area of pain.
Extraordinary
athletes.
The fact that we CAN override the pain and push our bodies
to extremes doesn't mean we should. Dr. Jay Dunbar, in
a presentation on knee safety, made a very good point:
In such studies as martial arts, very often those who are
selected as teachers are those of exceptional physical
gifts who can do extraordinary things with their bodies.
In our desire to emulate the extraordinary abilities, we
often ask our bodies to exceed our own personal limits.
In martial training, it is important to differentiate between
the essence of the art being taught and the idiosyncrasies
of the individual teacher, no matter how gifted.
Taijiquan
is nothing if not a vehicle of exploration of the relationship
of our bodies to the world around us. If we learn nothing
else from our study, the ability to move more relaxedly
and efficiently is reward enough. Sometimes pain and
injury can be a very effective teacher.
The
Relaxation Problem.
We are all exhorted by our taiji teachers to relax and
not strain with our muscles. Most of us can do this well
enough until we encounter some resistance that should yield
to our efforts- but doesn't. Anyone can use "four
ounces" while doing a solo form, but it is when one
encounters "a thousand pounds" that we are tested.
Too often I have seen players with decades of taiji experience
discard everything they "knew" when facing a
serious challenge.
The flaws
in our structure become magnified when the "Ward
Off with Left Hand" we have practiced diligently
for YEARS can be collapsed by a single finger's worth
of resistance. What good is a Ward Off that can't ward
off?
Strictly
from a biomechanical view (I'll save the energetic implications
for another article), the warding arm is too collapsed
if the angle of the elbow is less than 90 degrees (Photos
5 & 6). With even a little pressure, the connective
tissue becomes stretched past the comfort zone signaling
the muscles to let go, rendering the Ward Off ineffective.
The surface appearance is that it "didn't work",
causing the player to question the validity of this "internal
stuff". We reactively shed this "woo-woo" stuff
and go back to what we've always done (usually involving
excess muscular tension).
In such
situations, the relaxation was replaced by tension because
at the deepest levels of our body/mind we don't really
believe we are safe or powerful without muscular tension.
It is an ancient reflex that probably has its roots somewhere
in our dark quadrapedal past, when such vigilance meant
eat or be eaten. All the reminders to relax programmed
into our conscious minds are unavailable when the "Reptile
Brain" is activated.
Reptile
Brain.
In one model of brain evolution, it is seen as developing
in three distinct stages, with each stage transcending
and including the one before. The three stages are Reptile
Brain, Paleo-mammalian Brain (limbic system), and Primate
Brain. Space here does not permit a full development of
this topic, so I will restrict my comments to the earliest
stage.
The Reptile
Brain is composed of the pons, medulla oblongata, and
midbrain. Here are programmed the basic instincts of
survival - sexual desire, the search for food and the "fight-or-flight" response.
The prime directive of the Reptile Brain is "survival
through competition".
(There
are those who romanticize the Reptile Brain as something
lofty and "natural", but the "nature" expressed
there is the law of the jungle. It lacks both humor and
lofty ideals.)
Many of
its "solutions" are apropos of our distant
ancestors and may not work so well in the Information
Age. This primitive software can be activated by stressful
or dangerous situations and may do more harm than good
(e.g.. shoulder and neck tension while driving, excessive
adrenal reaction creating hypertension, hypervigilence
leading to insomnia, etc.) Until experience and reflection
show more effective, dependable behavioral options, our
body/mind response is to go with what is familiar.
The
Power of Tensegrity.
In taiji we are looking for a way to transcend and access
the lizard brain and still be effective. That comes from
years of practice aided by an understanding of what principles
are at work. Tensegrity is a term coined by the inventor/
architect/ philosopher, R. Buckminster Fuller. It means
a continuous tensional network supported by discontinuous
compressive elements (see sketch).

A tent
is an example of a tensegrity network. Ropes or cables
pull in different directions, creating the form or the
tent. Cut one of the ropes and the whole tent loses some
of its form. Overtighten, and the shape is distorted,
weakening the structure.
The tent
pegs and poles are the “discontinuous compressive
elements”. They act as “spacers” to
help direct the lines of force of the tensional elements.
Force is not taken directly into them.
The bones/muscles/connective
tissue act as a tensegrity network in the body. Juhan
says, “There is not a single horizontal surface
anywhere in the skeleton for anything to be stacked upon
it. Our design was not conceived by a stone mason. Weight
applied to any bone would cause it to slide right off
its joints if it were not for the tensional balances
that hold it in place and control its pivoting.” (JOB’S
BODY p.82)
Tensegrity
accounts for the body’s ability to absorb impact
without damage. The more relaxed and flexible the body,
the more likely that energy will be taken in as information
rather than injury. Muscular tension interferes with
this network and diminishes the ability to disperse energy
without damage.
Structurally,
we are creating shapes with our bodies that allow the
energy to move where we want it to go by relaxing into
the natural support of this tensegrity network. This
is what is called “sung” in taiji. Extensive
experimentation is required to have a personal sense
of which shapes support this process and which shapes
oppose it.
It is
along this tensegrity network that energy and information
flow, which is vital to the survival of the organism.
In the Yang Family Forty Chapters (see LOST T’AI
CHI CLASSICS FROM THE LATE CH’ING DYNASTY by Douglas
Wile), it is said “Ch’i travels in the membranes,
bones, sinews, and blood vessels; strength issues from
the blood, flesh, skin, and bones. Therefore, those with
great brute force will have external strength in their
skin and bones, or physical form. Those with great ch’i
have internal strength in their sinews and blood vessels,
or physical image...Circulating the ch’i in the
sinews and blood vessels and using strength in the skin
and bones are very different.” (page 79)
When we
respond to stress by focusing on our muscles, it is like
shortening one or more of the supporting wires of the
tent, it interrupts the balance and integrity of the
structure. When we focus on the tensegrity network (sinews)
we utilize the power and intelligence of the whole body.
Taijiquan
is the most effective practice I have seen for implementing
these ideas into the way we move and act in the world.
We first find out how to relax into the tensegrity of
the connective tissue, then gradually increase the resistance
while maintaining the relaxation. Over time, we learn
how to handle enormous forces calmly and gracefully.
These
principles can be applied to any form, any move. The
only way to convince the “old guard” of the
body/mind, the “reptile brain”, is through
practice and testing. Testing what we learn is the only
way to develop confidence in the incredible potential
in this magnificent art form.
Summary.
To summarize the points here:
1. Joints are designed to move a certain way and function
optimally within a certain range. To reduce possibility of
injury and greatly increase the power of a particular motion,
it is important to test this idea against gradually increasing
resistance.
2. The
body has self-protecting mechanisms which alert us to
potentially dangerous situations. That we can override
these signals, doesn’t mean we should. Understanding
the language of our bodies is a lifelong undertaking,
constantly refined.
3. The
tensegrity system of connective tissue and bone in the
body is an effective system of transmitting energy and
information. Relaxing into this underlying tensegrity
permits optimal functioning. Training by gradually increasing
resistance on the system while relaxing muscular tension
greatly increases the ability of the body to issue and
receive energy.
4. Relaxation
into the intrinsic structure of the body permits functioning
to be directed by the higher centers of the brain while
maintaining access to the valuable functions of the lower
centers.
References:
JOB’S BODY, Juhan, Deane. Station Hill Press
LOST T’AI CH’I CLASSICS OF THE LATE CH’ING
DYNASTY, Douglas Wile, State University of New York Press
(Rick Barrett is a Polarity
Therapist and teaches taijiquan in New York City.)
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Rick Barrett/Tai Chi Alchemy All Rights Reserved.
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