How Standing Still Helped Me to Move Forward
- Anthony
- Mar 29, 2021
- 5 min read
It’s been a long year.
I mean, January felt like a couple years on its own. February came marching in (no pun intended), and I stumbled through it, tripping on a pebble here and a freaking boulder there.
It feels like a never-ending slew of peculiar news cycles, combined with a continuous & mercilessly distracting stream of content (you know how it’s getting bad? you catch yourself watching videos less than a minute on YouTube), all occurring against the backdrop of self-care culture and a new kind of ‘Instagram gratitude’.
That’s not to say this shift in culture isn’t well-deserved and good-intentioned, but I think it misses the mark on individual functionality and habit systems.
Meditation, specifically a sitting meditative practice, is a ‘habit’ often recommended by countless self-improvement articles and channels.
Perchance you may have inferred that my own meditation practice was somewhat derailed with the arrival of this new year – it almost feels like everything past 2017 is The Matrix incarnate.
On-and-off, I worked the mechanics of a black folding chair – sometimes its structure would unfold easily, other times grinding and halting against its own steel – and set a timer on my phone for fifteen minutes.
Fifteen was close enough to twenty and far enough from ten where I felt like it wasn’t overkill but still satisfied the made-up expectations and requirements I set for my own practice.
Usually, I completed the whole thing, focusing either on my breath or practicing some inner fire “vase breathing”, a powerful Tibetan method of meditation that deserves an article on its own.
But I continually felt a sense of stagnation, almost like I was sinking in quicksand, unable to move forward or force myself out of this consuming inertia. Everyday tasks felt like grueling, inhumane bores.
Have you ever heard a heavy sigh before?
I was beginning to feel like my routine was the manifestation of that.
"Haaaah".
This wasn’t my first rodeo with meditation, though; my mãe has always been open-minded and inclusive when it comes to Eastern practices, including chanting and more traditional forms of meditation.
I wasn’t taken aback, then, when she suggested incorporating a Zhan Zhuang practice into our evenings.
The phrase literally translates to “standing like a tree” or “standing-pole practice”. The solidarity, singularity, and quite stoic nature of the actual posture is lost to the lens of an inexperienced eye.
Even then, thinking about this more ‘nontraditional’ method of meditation – one I hadn’t considered before – I wasn’t skeptical.
We watched a mini-series on YouTube (longer than a minute, don’t get on my case) by a channel named ‘StandStillBeFit’.
Yes, the words were squished together like that, somewhat pressed against the edges of my screen, but that only added to the urgency and refined nature of the practice itself.
It’s hard to say whether the mystical quality of Lam Kam Chuen, the teacher on the 10 – part series, is due to his extensive work with spiritual practice or perhaps wear and tear on dated VHS tapes.
Either way, the man is literally glowing.
There’s an actual aura of light and illumination surrounding Chuen, and it’s increasingly visible throughout the first episode.
Whether this is just tape damage or some sort of mystical realization, it definitely left an impression and cemented Zhan Zhuang as a special and important practice for me.
We started with a posture akin to the more basic elements of the practice; arms down, crown of the head elevated, and pelvis drawn to the ground. Immediately, I realized the magnitude of my previous underestimation.
In a way, I was the mere Padawan of Zhan Zhuang, completely astounded by the effort and stability – especially since the body’s center of gravity is lowered – it takes to keep one’s vessel upright.
It shocked and humbled me as a novice, a beginner, a small drop in the ocean of 'standing still to get toned'.
Needless to say, this was no ordinary practice.
The difference between Zhan Zhuang and run-of-the-mill meditation lies within somatic experience and overall body awareness.
Sitting down places virtually no strain or demand on the body’s core muscles, and without that discomfort (in the beginning, it acts as the driving force of attention in a standing practice), there’s a tremendous window of allowance for attention to wander and scatter.
In other words, you simply can’t ignore both the attention-to-detail and strength it takes to literally stand up for yourself.
Zhan Zhuang made me more aware than ever of my internal sensations, including the solitary, peaceful, tranquil sentiments and the disorganized, chaotic, deeply uncomfortable blockages within my physicality.
It helped me to slow down, to stop the endless pursuit of the next best thing – best described by the phrase “Shiny Object Syndrome” – and a constant desire to prove myself through music production, or filmmaking, or whatever new ‘art’ form consumed my thoughts and time.
It completely halted my movement on the path of rapidly shifting identities, grandiose perceptions, and undying narratives about the littlest, most unimportant things (see “Pandemic, E – Learning Grief”, haha).
Zhan Zhuang actually forced me, unequivocally, to acknowledge the present moment.
The practice is humbling. It’s sobering every single time that you decide to place down the mat or cushion, and as Marco Lueck, the founder of Water Dragon Arts says, time constraints and ‘goal-setting’ calendars don’t matter. Zhan Zhuang’s foundation lies in consistency, shared experiences, and serenity.
A quick note: Water Dragon Arts is Marco’s blog and extensive online resource for all things Qi Gong – including tailor-made traditional clothing. This post isn’t sponsored, but the Zhan Zhuang Gong Complete Course is definitely worth checking out.
There’s so much painstaking technique and effort that goes into something that sounds as simple as standing still for a set period of time. To my understanding, there are 8 main postures in Zhan Zhuang, each with a dedicated name.
The main one showcased in videos or blog posts about the topic is the “balloon” pose, where the spine is straight – the crown and pelvis are vertically aligned – and the hands that of someone grasping a balloon (although quite non-traditionally, if I’m being honest).
Maybe not-so-surprisingly, the hands get tired rather quickly. Keeping the shoulders down is essential so as to not obstruct the flow of Qi from the torso to the lower portions of the body.
If they’re tense, energy can’t move through the body’s tissue and the practice is rendered ineffective.
Even these tips are mere fragments of the intensive, thorough theory that goes into Zhan Zhuang posture.
Marco said himself that practitioners in China have a hard time translating the exact, fine details of the stance in plain English.
It’s understandable, but perhaps the most crucial aspect of Zhan Zhuang is a balance between the education of theory and the experience of practice.
Maybe you’ve heard of the 20% - 80% rule, where 20% of one’s energy is spent on dry knowledge and 80% dedicated to (‘wet?’) practice.
Starting a Zhan Zhuang routine isn’t costly or so tumultuous only experienced monks, living in remote caves along the natural ley lines of the globe, can sit through the meditation.
More accurately, you stand through the meditation.
All you need is a floor – most people have one – and your attention. Anyone can begin practicing, and don’t worry if you can’t get the posture exactly right; time is a key factor in improving and flowing with the actual process of Zhan Zhuang.
I’m no expert, but I think that anybody who desires more stability and awareness, throughout every area of life, would do wonderfully to try Zhan Zhuang out as a century-old, proven practice with a host of physical, mental, and spiritual benefits.
Or you could do it to get toned.
I don’t know.
Here’s a link to Marco’s website, Water Dragon Arts:
Here's the StandStillBeFit YouTube channel:
Thank you.
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