Preface

 

          This book is purely the result of my teaching Tai chi at the University of Birmingham during the autumn term of 1997 and the spring term of 1998. This is the time when my heart is most inspired and my brain is most active, trying to find just the right words and logical explanations for my students to understand  their inner-self. This results in the use of new words, new approaches, and new metaphors, which I did not use before in my first book, Dear Colin: What is the meaning of life? Terms like innocent perception, mental holodeck, Tom and Jerry and so on all happened during the teaching  in these terms.

 

               I am sure many people who came to my class have been wondering what exactly I am teaching, Tai chi or Buddhism or meditation or what. It is quite obvious that  this book cannot possibly be about Tai chi. It can be rather confusing and even frustrating for some people who come to my class expecting to learn “the Tai chi they knew ” and found me doing something  totally different. I suppose the answer is that I am teaching all the above.

 

              Ever since my student years when I knew the real Buddhism and engaged in the Buddhist meditation of samadha-vipassana bhavana, I realised that this is the kind of knowledge that people must know. Since then, I have been compelled   to tell people about it by simply passing on dhamma books to family and friends until a lot of my friends didn’t want to come near me.  Nevertheless, I  started more activities  such as: setting up a dhamma book stall in my department,  having dhamma talks and arranging retreats for students, and so on. Among those activities, my friends and I also set up an agony aunt service when I received hundreds of letters from people who had problems. I ended up answering all those letters by myself and sent them dhamma books. I have talked briefly about all these activities in my previous book.  

             When I moved to the UK, I thought that I could never have a chance to do that kind of  work again.  Even  when I started teaching Tai chi at the University  in April 1988, I never thought that I could link Tai chi directly to  Buddhism and the Buddhist practice  of samadha-vipassana bhavana.  I simply thought that I would do my best to teach the Yang style Tai chi  I learnt from my Tai chi teacher at the Lumbhini Park in the central of Bangkok. However, I did not stick to my original intentions very long. My passion for sharing the good news to others has always been overwhelming.  It wasn’t long before I found myself talking to my students about how to lead a meaningful life and meditation practice slowly crept into my Tai chi class. At that time, I felt like I was stealing my working time teaching something else to my students, so I  spent a bit more time after the class talking to anyone who  was interested in  what I had to say.  There was a day when I turned up five minutes late for class and I found three students   quietly and serenely doing their walking meditation in the Dojo while waiting for me. That co-incidence gave me confidence and the idea  to make walking meditation a part of my Tai chi teaching. My first trick in steering my students into meditation practice was about to take place.  It might have been in the following Tai chi session when I lined my students up across the Dojo and let them do  ten minutes walking meditation before doing Tai chi.

                 When the beginner class began in the following term,  I  had prepared an introductory speech which told my students that  before we could execute the unique movement of Tai chi which is slow and serene, we must slow our minds down first by doing walking meditation. Basically, I made that up. There is no book or no teacher telling me to do  so. I don’t know whether there was any Tai chi class in the world doing that. Since then, I made a lot more up while I went along. I took no notice of the western way of Tai chi teaching.  Then, I created all the practices that I thought my students should know and must know to help them to understand life and more importantly the purpose of life, (that’s why the title of my first book was originally named “What is the purpose of life ?” but the publisher toned it down to What is the meaning of life? instead.).   From then on, walking meditation  became part of   my Tai chi class for many more years.  Through teaching others, I am constantly teaching myself and the dhamma I see has become clearer as time moves on. My introductory speech as well as the way of teaching has gradually changed. The more I understand the dhamma, the  more I can link everything together and the simpler I can put it across to my class. A life map is just like a map of any big city. Once one can see the whole map, one will know how to get to a place as quickly as possible, maybe through a short cut or using a ring road or whatever.    The Buddha’s teaching is about offering us a life map, which gives us a direct route so that we can get to our final destination or Nibbana as quickly as possible. In trying to find the simplest and shortest way for my students to understand life, it can mean only one thing and that is to go straight into the practice especially  the vipassana-bhavana.

               Even though I can understand the core practice of Buddhism and want so much to share it with people, I cannot deny the fact that I am not a Buddhist monk,  besides I am a lay person, a woman and standing in front of all these extreme intellectuals who pay their money to learn Tai chi. Why would  they want to learn Buddhism from this Chinese woman who can’t even articulate her English ?   The university has a whole department where students can  learn any religion in the world. They don’t need to come to me to learn Buddhism. This is the beginning of  my strategy in trying to lure students to engage in the core practice of Buddhism.  Initially it also means that I cannot tell my students about my true intention and that my introductory speech cannot be too religious, more precisely too Buddhist. When I looked at the literal meaning of Tai chi along with its history, with my Chinese and Buddhist background, I could see a way to combine the two together-Tai chi and the samadha-vipassana bhavana.  Consequently,  I found  a way of teaching combining the physical, mental and spiritual health together. I simply tell the class that I would focus more on the mental health aspect, which allows me to lead the students into the samadha-vipassana bhavana right away without having to talk much about the theory.   Consequently, it has been ten years of trying to perfect this new Tai chi concept as well as trying to materialise the abstract thoughts into the practice that my students can easily understand and identify with.  I am still perpetually finding different new techniques for my students to see their inner self.  My literary work is the back up for the student’s better understanding.  They are the words that I want to put across to my  students but  don’t have enough time to in the class.  It isn’t until the students begin to read my books, that they understand my real intention as well as  knowing fully that they have actually taken part in Buddhist practice. So, this is how my Tai chi class has been developing over the years.

                   By the end of  my first Spring term at the University of Birmingham, March 1989, I arranged  the first weekend retreat for my Tai chi students. We spent two nights at the Forest Hermitage in Warwickshire. There have been more retreats or day trips to various Buddhist temples every year since then which is a way to introduce the Buddhist culture and practice to my students. The last retreat happened in May 1998. Pra-maha Low allowed me to use the Buddha Vihara, in Aston, Birmingham as the venue to host 27 students for the three days and two nights retreat. The latest  activity outside my Tai chi class which has been running for a year now, is holding a meditation evening in my own home every   three weeks for the students who want to know more about Buddhism and have more practice.  

            Those early years while I was trying to establish myself,  teaching wasn’t at all easy. Being here all alone, away from my spiritual teachers and friends and trying to create something totally new in a strange country with a culture so alien from where I come from, I wanted to give up many times due to lack of confidence.  Dealing with extreme intellectuals is not an easy experience for anyone let alone a foreign woman like me who cannot  always pronounce the r and l  correctly.  As far as meditation practice was concerned, I had no one to turn to, to ask for advice and to confirm to me that I was doing the right thing. I asked myself several times  what happened if I was wrong. Would I go to hell ?  There have been countless occasions when I had no courage to go on anymore and was on the edge of giving up teaching. Then, I listened to my teacher’s tape and began to see the glimpse of truth in my heart. My courage came back and I carried on with my work.   Indeed, that very truth has been my teacher, my friend, my adviser, my comforter and my spiritual carer all these years. What has allowed  me to survive is obviously the Vipassana-bhavana which gives me the strength to carry on  whenever I thought there was no way out for me. My understanding about the practice  ten years ago wasn’t as clear as it is now. It was as clear as it could be. In retrospect, though my  teaching managed to chase a great number of people away during the early years, there were always a few people who showed a genuine interest in what I taught and that gave me a lot of  strength to go on.  I often overheard my students talking among themselves about telling their friends to come to my Tai chi class in a way that it could be a means to release their stress and probably resolve other problems. All the letters I received from my former students also expressed the same thing. It does seem like this Tai chi class has gradually become a means, which creates mental and spiritual stability  for a group of young people without having to belong to any particular religious belief.  On the one hand, I suppose this ( a non-religious means to tranquility)  is exactly what I want it to happen, on the other hand, I don’t want people to misunderstand that I betray all my spiritual teachers especially the Buddha. This book can confirm that I am one of the Buddha’s faithful followers and will try my best to pass on his teaching. 

                        My English writing has improved since the publication of my first book in 1995 but is still very far from perfect. I find it a bit easier to express myself but still face many limitations. There were times when I could have toned down my words to make them sound a bit more polite and spare people’s feelings but I wasn’t well enough equipped with words. Therefore, it made my expressions rather blunt, harsh and to the point.

                     I chose to write this book in short essays which allowed me to delve deeper into each topic and keep the work as coherent as possible. However, I did not plan each chapter before I started writing. Each chapter is the result of trying to convey my thoughts to students every  week. Some thoughts and some ideas happened on the spur of the moment in class. I have seven classes to run each week. I normally have a general idea of what I would like to focus on  each week but not many details in my head. Quite often, it is listening to Ajarn Khemananda’s tapes that sparks my thoughts off. By the end of the week, my thoughts and ideas become more mature and much clearer and that enables me to easily put them down in writing. It is very different from writing essays during my students years when I had to rely on reading as many books as possible and just simply grabbed what others had said and put them down on paper.  I do read some books and listen to my teacher’s tape but the serious reading which make this book become possible is reading my big-book (body-mind) which we all have.   

                    I sincerely hope that this book can help you to know and find yourself.

 

                                                                               Supawan

                                                                         15 September 1998