When I finished the Qi Gong forms this morning, I sort of lost track of what I was doing, and wandered off to the kitchen, and then started doing a little extra cleanup around the house, making the public spaces more livable. I have company coming over to celebrate the change of seasons to evening, and I want the place to look ok.
Yet in the course of this clean-up, I realized, wow, I totally forgot to do tai chi! and then it was back to the office to do the main form: press, push, single whip, snake creeps down and all the rest. The interruption was normal… Something told my body that it was done, and it went on to the next thing. I didn’t decide to not do the form… My body did.
My body was also perfectly ok with going back to the work, and doing the tai chi form. But it was hard to escape the impression of an ego, a little man, riding around in my head at the top of a a six-foot tall, not very cooperative, robot. There he was up there, screaming and yelling that I’d forgotten to do something perfectly normal and ordinary like take out the trash, and my body wasn’t feeling any of it. No shame, no guilt at this yelling voice – just, ok, let’s do it, then… and doing it. There was a weird disconnect between what the body did, and what the ego suggested was needed.
In any case, both tasks got done — the tai chi and the apartment cleanup. But the way the order of these two events sorted themselves out was unexpectedly revealing.