Chan Ming-shu, Master of Taijiquan

Most people regard taijiquan as a mild form of exercise appropriate for people getting on in years, but in the view of Chan Ming-shu, gold medalist at the 1998 Asian Games in Bangkok, taijiquan isn't just for old folks. It also provides young people, who are fond of showcasing their talents, with an entirely different perspective upon what constitutes beauty and grace. He himself has benefited about as much as anyone from this age-old discipline.

A 28-year-old from Taipei County, Chan is a student at the Graduate Institute of Coaching Science, National College of Physical Education and Sports. Taijiquan was first made an official international sport in 1990 at the Asian Games in Beijing. Since that time, Chan has represented Taiwan at international events in Beijing, Shanghai, Hiroshima, Pusan, Italy, and Bangkok. Except for his first outing in Beijing, where he placed fifth, he has won either a silver or gold medal in every international event which he has entered. Coach Men Huifeng, a long-serving martial arts instructor in mainland China, is very enthusiastic about Chan's skills, and says, "He is one of the best in a new generation of martial artists."

Warrior wields a brush

Like any successful athlete, Chan has had to go through an arduous training regime. He started practicing martial arts at age ten under his uncle Chan Te-sheng, who has since become a coach of the ROC national martial arts team. Chan Te-sheng, who began practicing martial arts as a college student in his teens, decided to organize a martial arts club at Pihua Elementary School in Sanchung, Taipei County. Chan Ming-shu and several dozen other boys joined the club. In addition to practice at school, the coach also required them to train at his martial arts gym after school in order to prepare for martial arts competitions organized by the Ministry of Education at elementary schools throughout Taiwan.

"My uncle was of the opinion that a martial artist should pay attention to both intellectual and athletic development." Up through the second year of junior high school, Chan Ming-shu spent Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays practicing martial arts, while Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays were devoted to calligraphy. After several years of this routine, he had mastered many of the basic martial arts skills, including lower leg kicking, Shaolin-style boxing, mantis-style kicking, and the use of the saber, spear, sword, and cudgel. At the same time, however, he had also become so accomplished as a calligrapher that he was able to take to the street and sell his work during the run-up to lunar new year.

While the training regime he went through as a child was tough, Chan feels it was also very rewarding. To master the basics, he started with "square" styles (such as lower leg kicking) before moving on to "triangular" styles (such as mantis-style kicking). When it came time to work on the "rounded" taijiquan, his mastery of the martial arts basics stood him in good stead.

Total devotion to taijiquan

The Asian Games in Beijing turned out to be a pivotal point in Chan Ming-shu's martial arts career. Although he had practiced some taijiquan prior to 1990 thanks to his uncle's influence, he had never looked upon it as a career option. Like most people, he focused primarily upon academics. After graduation from junior high school, he tested into the electrical engineering department at the National Taipei Institute of Technology.

Then in 1990, taijiquan was made an official international sport for the first time at the Asian Games. This change in status was made in recognition of the importance of taijiquan in China, which hosted the games that year. Because Chan Ming-shu has a rather slim physique, his uncle thought he would be a good candidate to represent Taiwan in a graceful sport like taijiquan. Chan Te-sheng persuaded his nephew, then a third-year student at National Taipei Institute of Technology, to give it a try. Chan Ming-shu had done quite well in martial arts competitions ever since elementary school, and he made the national team with ease.

Training for the Asian Games lasted a year, and it set Chan on the path to a career in competitive taijiquan. After joining the national team, he says, "Taijiquan became my whole life, 24 hours a day." In addition to rigorous physical training aimed at mastering a variety of set routines (tao lu) needed for the Asian Games, he also began reading a wide range of taijiquan classics dating back to the Qing dynasty (1644-1911). The qigong exercises that make up part of taijiquan are rooted in Daoist, Buddhist, and Confucian philosophy, and Chan collected anything at all that had to do with taijiquan. He worked out by day and studied by night, taking a break for calligraphy whenever he felt tired. Taijiquan was his constant companion for an entire year.

Participants in the taijiquan event at the Asian Games in Beijing did not compete hand to hand, but instead performed 42 set moves, each with a high degree of difficulty. The moves had been selected by the martial arts community in mainland China, and represented four different taijiquan styles-the Chen, Yang, Wu, and Sun schools. Competitors were judged according to very rigorous standards. The head had to be kept centered, shoulders low, elbows down, arms loose, fingers extended, the breath drawn from the abdomen rather than the chest, etc. To aid in judging the skills of the competitors, the rules put special emphasis on large, sweeping moves. In addition to leg lift, fist form, step form, palm form, fluidity, and coordination, the competitors were also judged on style and rhythm. For competitors of otherwise equal ability, such factors as attitude and style, while not easily quantifiable, spelled the difference between victory and defeat.

At one with the universe

Many feel that it is Chan's uninhibited style that sets him apart from the competition. Chan attributes this style to many long years of hard training.

He relates that the intensive training he did in 1989 and 1990 helped him develop a deeper understanding of taijiquan and greatly toughened his body. His stamina, in particular, improved dramatically. "When I first started training, I used to get tired after I had been at it for a long time. My legs would get weak. I couldn't keep stable, and I couldn't keep my head up when I went into a low stance. After about a half year of training, though, I didn't have that problem any more."

As his training progressed, he developed a feel for what the classics mean when they talk about remaining "loose and unperturbed." He even began to have a better sense of the qi. "When you're pushing hands with somebody, for example, you begin to find that the other person can't move you, as if your feet had put down roots. You can dissipate the other person's energy. You gradually internalize the proper techniques-you stop lifting your elbows and knees, you don't raise your shoulders, and you don't step so clumsily."

Chan often rides his motorcycle to isolated places outside town to train and get in touch with the energy of the cosmos. His favorite destination is a spot right in front of a grave at the highest point on Yangmingshan mountains. "I often stand there looking out over the city of Taipei while practicing the 'golden rooster standing on one leg.' At times like that, I feel as if I've left the world behind and become one with the universe." The feeling was so strong at one point, in fact, that during the toughest stretch of training prior to the Asian Games in Beijing, Chan even thought about leaving society and becoming a hermit. "If I could just spend every day training in martial arts, practicing calligraphy, and contemplating life, I couldn't ask for anything more."

Taijiquan stresses the importance of both physical and spiritual development, and emphasizes total devotion to training. Perhaps this has influenced Chan. Although he participates in a competitive sport in which the goal is to win medals, he appears to maintain a certain attitude of detachment all the while. Would this be due to the special nature of taijiquan, or is it a unique strength of Chan's alone? He finally medaled in 1993, taking the silver medal at the East Asian Games. He followed up on this accomplishment by taking the silver medal at the Asian Games in Hiroshima in 1994, the silver medal at an Asian Cup competition in the Philippines in 1996, the gold medal at the East Asian Games in Pusan in 1997, the silver medal at the World Wushu Championships in Italy in 1997, and the gold medal at the Asian Games in Bangkok in 1998.

Taijiquan is like a sphere

Due perhaps to his long exposure to Chinese martial arts, the 168-centimeter Chan speaks at a slow and easy pace, displaying little of the excitability one would generally expect of someone his age. As the oldest child in his family, "he often had to put the interests of his family above all else," reports his uncle Chan Te-sheng. After he entered National Taipei Institute of Technology at age 15, his mother suffered a stroke and his father retired, so Chan Ming-shu at a very early age became an important provider for his family. In all likelihood, his personality, his family background, and the deep understanding of taijiquan that he has developed through rigorous training all have something to do with the fact that in his martial arts performances, "he shows a certain aplomb and self-possessed air seldom seen in someone his age." As one person puts it, "there's a certain nonchalant, carefree way about the way he competes."

Chan himself considers all this praise exaggerated. "I will say this, though-practicing taijiquan always makes you feel like you've gained something worthwhile." Ever since he took up taijiquan in 1990, he has felt and looked healthier than ever before. He seldom gets sick any more, and the emotional impact of his involvement with taijiquan has made a particularly deep impression upon him.

One memorable episode happened when he was 26 years old and working especially hard on his neijin (inner strength). Says Chan, "I got to the point where I felt like my whole body had become extremely light, and the air around me seemed dirty and polluted." After a while he couldn't stand to hear old classmates talking about cars, work, and worldly ambitions. "My taijiquan students at that time said my emotional age was 62." For a long time, he had the urge to abandon society and live totally alone.

He didn't do it, though, and as he continued to practice taijiquan, his deepening understanding gradually changed his attitude. Says Chan, "I eventually came to feel that commonplace things weren't so detestable after all, and that the air around me was alright." He had come full circle, which he attributes to the taijiquan principle that "where there is yin, there must also be yang." This principle is a major reason for the ups a(tm)nd downs of human existence.

Chan likens taijiquan to a sphere. In his opinion, there is no need for people to look upon it as something deeply esoteric, because the basic idea is actually quite simple-to help the practitioner maintain good health, master self-defense, keep the body evenly developed, maintain a calm temperament, and think clearly. Chan uses the metaphor of a sphere to describe how these various facets of taijiquan go together. Anyone who is serious about taijiquan needs to work on all of the different aspects of the sphere in order to grasp the essence.

When he finishes his studies, Chan hopes to find a job which will afford the opportunity to use simple, straightforward language to help people understand taijiquan and the special terms and phrases that have evolved in connection with it.

Self-possessed youth

Just like a missionary, he wants to guide others down the same path which he himself has found so beneficial. Fortunately for him, his gold medals make it easier for him to spread the word about taijiquan.

"For young people today, the contemporary concept of beauty is completely based in Western culture. It's all about big muscles and lots of flesh. Taijiquan presents an alternative view of beauty, one that emphasizes the soft, the supple, and the slow." It is not that young people aren't capable of understanding the taijiquan point of view. They just need someone who can teach them about it.

At the same time, Chan's academic studies have enabled him to gain a great deal of Western learning in such fields as sports mechanics, biology, and psychology. He hopes to use these scientific methods to explain what taijiquan is about. For example, he could ask from a scientific perspective: When they talk about being "loose and low (song chen)," what does it mean? What is the qi? The books say, for example: "When the qi reaches the fingertips, the fingertips grow warm and begin to tingle, as if there were ants crawling over them." These idiosyncratic descriptions are enlightening, but might it not be possible to measure these phenomena with scientific instruments?

It is also reported that when one reaches a certain level of proficiency in martial arts, one sometimes experiences uncontrollable twitching and jerky movements, due to spontaneous movement of the qi. Such occurrences might sound like complete fantasy to someone who has never practiced martial arts before. Chan wants to try and use modern scientific methods to explain these phenomena.

"I've been fortunate enough to win medals. This good fortune has come about thanks to good karma from a previous existence." He adds, however, that the important thing isn't the medals; it's what you do for the sport of taijiquan after the medals have been won.

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Chan Ming-shu, taijiquan gold medalist at the Asian Games in Bangkok, began studying martial arts in elementary school. His hard training in taijiquan has given him a calm demeanor seldom seen in youth.

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The Asian Games gold medal brought Chan Ming-shu not just fame, but fortune, too-a prize of NT$5 million! Pictured here is a plaque presented to Chan by the ROC Taichichuan Association.