Inside each of us, there is the seed of both good and evil. It's a constant struggle as to which one will win. And one cannot exist without the other. – Eric Burdon
In Taijiquan (T’ai Chi), there is an exercise called, Tui Shou or “Push Hands,” in which partners stand opposite one another, lightly touching hands and, as their hands move, they maintain contact, pushing one another gently. The point is to “listen with your hands” and not to lose contact, and the purpose of the exercise is to undo a person's natural instinct to resist force with force, teaching the body and mind to yield to force and redirect it.
This is a martial technique, but also a spiritual one; when we resist with force, we lose. When we use the force coming at us as an opportunity, we discover our real strength. Which will we choose?
I recently listened to a fantastic podcast (here) in which the presenters were discussing Genesis and pointing out that one of the most important things God gives us in this story of creation is the free will to choose between good and evil (that’s what Adam and Eve learn). The teachers went on to say that if there were no evil, there would be no way we could choose to be good. In other words, without a force pushing against us, we would not have to decide what to do. We wouldn’t have the opportunity to choose to do good, and that’s the spiritual work itself… movement towards the good.
Of course, there are many teachings that say we live in a non-dual universe, in which there is no good or evil. That may be true in the absolute, but here in the relative, there is duality. As Seng -t’san, the 3rd Chan/Zen patriarch taught: “As soon as you separate what you like from what you don’t like, you set Heaven and Earth infinitely apart.” Once we make that distinction in our minds, we are faced with the challenges duality presents.
If we look at this from an Abrahamic perspective, it’s saying the same thing. God may be One, but in Genesis, the first thing the One does is create duality; separating day from night, distinguishing one thing from another. It snowballs from there. The entire rest of the Bible is about people learning how to live in a dualistic world while still holding onto an understanding that in Ultimate Reality, duality doesn’t exist.
But this idea is not just in sacred texts: every day in every way, we are faced with having to decide between one thing or another. In other words, the fundamental duality in which we live constantly presents us with choices by pushing our hands, just like in the Taiji exercise. The question becomes how we respond: what choices do we make?
In Chinese, the word for “crisis” is the same as for “opportunity.” In our infantile spiritual (and socio-political) fantasies, we imagine a world in which there is no crisis, no struggle, nothing comes at us that would force us to wrestle, to make choices between good and bad, right and wrong. We want a world where the only choice we have to make is between good and better (cake or pie?). But, to use the Biblical metaphor, that can’t last; Adam and Eve get kicked out of Eden in chapter 1, and from then on, they (and the rest of humanity) have to struggle with choices. It’s one thing after another. Welcome to reality.
The Abrahamics aren’t the only ones to say that struggle has it’s use. From a Buddhist perspective, the whole of life is about managing “suffering;” it’s the Buddha’s First Noble Truth and the starting point for his entire philosophy. Daoists see it in terms of Yin and Yang, or the interplay of seemingly opposite forces that continually evolve through one another, and Hindus view it as the play of Lila and the causes and effects of Karma that must be mitgated. Even Newtonian physics and evolutionary biology talk about the importance of force and struggle: without some impulse or stressor on an organisim or object, nothing changes.
Though each of these traditions has different ways of meeting the challenges of life, they all make it clear that life is pushing against us (or pulling us somewhere) to force us to choose…and to grow: the struggle IS the opportunity. I’m not suggesting that suffering is somehow ennobling, or that we should go seek it out, but I am saying that the challenge presented by crisis or conflict is a necessary impetus: it gives us the opportunity to grow which we otherwise might not have.
These days are providing us with that opportunity…in every way: morally, spiritually, physically and politically. We have to decide how we will meet the force of the hands that are pushing us. First of all, just as in the Push Hands exercise, we can’t lose contact: we actually have to stay in the ring and meet the challenges head on. While running away is a choice, it doesn’t grow us. Instead, we have to decide if we push back with force or do we yield and redirect? If we are being faced with a choice to choose good or evil, right or wrong, which will we choose?
I’d like to suggest that instead of viewing the difficulties of the world as something to be avoided at all costs (running away or wishing for some kind of bliss-fantasy reality), we welcome the opportunity they present. It may feel like being in a crucible, but it is in the crucible that the alchemy happens: if we see that each challenge —each force pushing us— gives us a choice, and that the process of deciding forges us in a different way, it can potentially transform us and our future.
That is the meta spiritual teaching of the martial arts (and to a certain extent the asana of yoga): they train us to deal with the inevitable conflicts of life and teach us how to make better choices. Through the practice of something as simple as “Push Hands,” we can be transformed into people who face obstacles and challenges with more flexibility, confidence, conviction, peace and strength.
“If there is no struggle, there is no progress.” – Frederick Douglass
Thank you 🙏🥰