Super Slow Stretchy Dancing

That's about the best way I know how to describe Tai Chi. Take two good stretch routines, one warm up and the other cool down, insert dance steps at every bend and turn, and do the whole thing as slowly as possible. And name it something obscure like Form 24.

Tai Chi!

I also call this Tai Cheeseburger, which is what I was craving about half way through our session. In fact, I got so locked on the "Tai" part of Tai Chi that we ended up having Pad Thai for dinner last night. But I digress ...

Last Christmas, Matt got me a membership to the Orlando Museum of Art, and added on a deal-ee-oh called North American Reciprocal. What that means is that we flash our OMA cards at participating museums (and there are hundreds) and we are ushered right in like VIPs. Such was the case when we walked into the Asian Pacific Museum. The building itself is a gorgeous specimen of Japanese architecture, and in the center, a wonderfully serene garden complete with a pond of lotus of flowers. Standing in the midst of this courtyard, you forget that there's a California Pizza Kitchen and a Starbucks right outside.

Every Saturday morning, Michael, Irwin, and Jane host a Tai Chi class in this garden. Beginners are welcome, thank goodness. So a motley crew of 15 of us assembled there yesterday morning, many for the first time. The leaders are beautifully skilled in the crafts of dipping, weaving, and stretching their bodies into lovely postures with poetic names, such as Play the Lute, Single Whip, and (my favorite) Stroke the Peacock's Tail.

One of the leaders told us early on to turn off our minds and let our bodies just follow the rhythms. Nice. But totally unrealistic. My head went into overdrive as I tried to match all of the dipping, weaving, and stretching.  Many times, I realized that although I'd gotten the arm motions correct, my feet were nowhere to be found.

Thank goodness for You Tube. I'll doing a lot of lute playing and peacock stroking in prep for next week. Perhaps there's a book called Tai Chi for Morons -- or better yet, Tai Chi For Type A Personalities. After all, Tai Chi literally means "supreme ultimate fist," which sounds far more like something you'd see on reality television than experience in a Chinese garden.  Proponents insist that it's designed to balance the body into meditative relaxation. Today, my forearms and thighs do not feel either meditative or relaxed -- but I do feel a supreme, ultimate need to tackle Form 24.