Tai Chi Chuan is a multifaceted art, deeply rooted in ancient Chinese philosophy and enriched by centuries of development. Grounded in the principles of Yin and Yang, designed with insights from the meridian system of Chinese medicine, and infused with effective martial techniques, Tai Chi also possesses extraordinary elegance and beauty when performed. It is more than just a scientifically proven beneficial exercise—it is a martial art, a healing art, and a performing art. Beyond its physical aspects, Tai Chi can profoundly influence spiritual perspectives, offering practitioners a calm and loving approach to life.
Tai Chi’s depth is layered, offering new insights to beginners and long-term practitioners alike. As my teacher, Grandmaster Chen Zhenglei, often says after nearly 70 years of practice and achieving the highest ranks of mastery, “I am still learning.” With such profundity, the question arises: How should one begin exploring this art? And for instructors, how should they approach teaching?
Sifu Bill Donnelly’s new book, Meditations on the Principles of Tai Chi, offers thoughtful guidance for both beginners and experienced practitioners.
About the Author
Bill Donnelly, based in Long Island, New York, is a 7th-generation lineage holder of Choi Li Fut, a traditional Chinese martial art, and a seasoned Tai Chi practitioner and instructor. Over the years, he has delivered lectures, demonstrations, workshops, and lessons at various organizations and events. Outside the martial arts world, Bill has spent over 20 years as a managing consultant, advising private banks, wealth management firms, and fiduciary executives serving high-net-worth clients. He is also a passionate musician, occasionally playing drums with bands at local clubs. Beyond his diverse interests, Bill finds solace in writing.
His first book, Inner Secrets: Discovering Tai Chi’s Hidden Lessons for Preservation, Protection, and Peace of Mind, received rave reviews for its thought-provoking content. Revisiting its pages often led me to reflect on life’s deeper questions. Naturally, I was curious to see what his latest work had to offer.
About the Book
Meditations on the Principles of Tai Chi is a compact yet profound workbook spanning 113 pages and 12 chapters. Designed as a 12-week guide, each chapter focuses on a foundational theme:
- Wuji: No Extremes
- Breath
- Learning and Self-Discovery Takes Time
- Yin Yang: Integrated Opposites
- Settle the Qi
- Intention
- Your Center
- Rooting
- Alignment
- Meditation + Qi Gong = Tai Chi
- Principle or Sequence: Where is the Focus?
- Your Tai Chi Path
These themes are universal and applicable across all major Tai Chi styles, including Chen, Yang, Wu, Wu-Hao, Sun, He, and Wudang Kung Fu. While the chapters are presented sequentially, they can be explored in any order.
Each chapter includes seven reflective questions (except the final chapter), designed to deepen understanding and connect Tai Chi principles to daily life. For example:
- “If Wuji means no extremes or no discrimination, where can you see this as oneness in the world?”
- “How can you incorporate your breathing with movement, even in the smallest task?”
These questions encourage readers to meditate on Tai Chi’s philosophy and its practical application. Rather than providing “correct” answers, Bill aims to inspire personal reflection and growth and the smallest task can be cutting an apple.
Practical Insights
One question that resonated with me was: “At the close of your day, how can you return to Wuji, a state of stillness, to rest?” Struggling with sleepless nights lately due to a grassroots project I’m involved in, this question offered me a moment of clarity and helped me find stillness at the end of the day.
Karen Hermann, a long-time Tai Chi practitioner from St. Louis, approaches the workbook uniquely. Instead of writing her answers directly in the provided space, she keeps a separate notebook to revisit and update her reflections as her understanding evolves. This method underscores Tai Chi’s layered nature—our appreciation of its principles deepens with practice and time.
Given this, I believe the book’s subtitle, A Beginner’s Guided Reflection to Cultivate Your Tai Chi, could be expanded to emphasize its value for practitioners of all levels.
Final Thoughts
Meditations on the Principles of Tai Chi is more than just a guide for beginners. It is a workbook that inspires reflection, self-discovery, and practical application of Tai Chi principles. Whether you’re new to Tai Chi or a seasoned practitioner, Bill Donnelly’s insights offer a fresh perspective to help you grow in your practice and in life.
Does tai chi ever taken a moral stand? Or does the yin-yang duality just apply a veneer of relativity to everything ?
Mr. Donnelly posed the question: “At the close of your day, how can you return to Wuji, a state of stillness, to rest?” I will ask a different question: Was Donnelly’s query inspired by the need to find a way to extinguish the moral angst that surely comes from successfully advising private banks and wealth management firms?
Charles, you have an interesting question, which is very profound and begs for a deep discussion. Personally, I think there is a moral stand but may sound very different from Confucianism on the surface. But deep down, it holds a very high level of standard. I will relay your questions to Sifu Donnelly. — Violet
Thank you, Violet, for forwarding Charles’ question to me. I will answer his query of morality in eastern and western thought, and address directly his concern about my angst. Here we will look at the two systems of thought and then the applications of each as related to Charles’ assumptions. First, the book’s question:
The question from my book is intended to stimulate awareness of the practitioner and student. It allows them to reflect on their day and to consider where wholeness might have existed in their tasks, interactions, and expressions. Wholeness does not necessarily mean completeness, but rather in our ability to fill each moment with intent and commitment. If at day’s end we can lay our head on the pillow and reflect on the ups and downs as a complete day in which we lived fully, then perhaps we can bring that day to a close and return to Wuji. This is not the absolute answer; each reader should seek their own answers. But it was my answer, which brings us to the heart of Charles’ question.
To my knowledge, morality does not exist in Taoist thought. Morality comes from the Latin word moralis, which means “manners” or “customs”. The earliest known use of the English word morality was around 1375. We can see from this etymology that morality is rooted in Western thought.
Morality suggests compliance to rules issued by a higher authority: Gods or Kings, for example. It implies that there are fixed laws that exist apart from human interactions and behaviors. Morality is a social phenomenon, a system of rules that guide our behavior, like rules of a game. But as with any externally imposed system, these rules can change over time, whether it’s the view of environmental issues, or attitudes toward women, race – and stereotypes.
Taosim is based on natural laws and since humans are a part of nature, then the belief is that those natural laws exist within us, as opposed to being imposed by an external source. The closest thing to morality that I am aware of is Te, meaning “by virtue of.” In this sense it would mean actions that are not contrived, do not have an agenda and do not seek recognition. So, a person who is solving a problem or leading an action aligns with Te if they are doing it out of their own nature. They are just being themselves. And so, if this person were to receive any benefits of those actions, those benefits are a byproduct. In this sense the person would be considered wealthy, because the reward is in excessive of their need.
Morality and Te both exist in this world, but we must be mindful of how we apply them, and how we might assign them to others. Charles assumes that because of my profession, I must surely be a tortured soul, living in angst. He has assigned a moral value to me without knowledge of who I am, what I do, or who I work for.
When I give daily to the woman on the street corner asking for money, or volunteer to teach financial literacy to children in poor communities, or clear snow off the driveway of two elderly widows, I am acting out of Te – my nature, without seeking reward. Aligning with Te influences morality-based decisions, including understanding the values and beliefs of the people and institutions I work with.
With respect to the implications of the question, money alone does not constitute an existence or lack of morality. Remember that Dr. Martin Luther King, one of the greatest thinker/philosophers, said “Nothing in wealth in inherently vicious, and nothing in poverty is inherently virtuous.”
Throughout history morality has been a double-edged sword. If it exists within our society, then we must temper the drive to impose that morality on others, especially strangers. Judging, accusing or attacking – even passively, based on our own sense of morality is, in the strictest sense, immoral. Better to encourage Te.
I appreciate your thoughtful and direct response. I apologize for my combative and moral one-upsmanship tone. Nevertheless, perfection of one’s own virtues should always be blended with some ability to first carefully discern and then say “No” to temptation and evil. Maybe a western construct but better than a cloak of eastern “Whatever”!