Month: November 2007

You Can’t Win for Losing

Thanks to the miracle of the web, and some remarkably fast testing, I’m happy to report that other than slightly elevated blood pressure and slightly elevated cholesterol, neither of which is high enough to require medication, I’m in pretty good shape.

The doctor suggested that I start an aspirin-a-day regime and continue to try to reduce my cholesterol. I’m wondering just what it would take to do that since I’ve lost over twenty pounds since last year and replaced some of that fat with lean muscle. Weighing 180 pounds at six foot doesn’t leave too much more fat to get rid of.

I’m already exercising well over ten hours a week and find I sometimes have to cut back on activities because of soreness in my knees or my feet. I haven’t entirely sworn off meat, but I’ve cut back considerably and don’t really want to become a vegetarian.

I’d hoped to lose a little more weight, but apparently I’m getting more synthroid than I need now, and the doctor is cutting that back. On the positive side, that might make me a little mellower since too much synthroid definitely makes me hyper. On the negative side, it will be easier to gain weight since synthroid affects your metabolism.

Still, perhaps the most frightening medical advice I’ve heard from a physician lately is the doctor who said that although I have had three different kinds of cancer, I also seem to have a resistance that keeps it from spending, and considering how good of shape I’m in I could live to be 90.

Crap! I doubt I have the finances to live that long, particularly if medical costs continue to escalate while my pension shrinks in value every year.

Worse yet, if I’m going to live that long I am going to have to reconsider what I want to do with my life. I’m not sure that going to the Y three times a week, walking through the woods taking pictures and occasionally posting a poetry entry is going to be enough to sustain me.

Still, past experiences with cancer have convinced me that it’s foolish to spend too much of today worrying about a tomorrow that may never come. I’m not going to spend my money like there’s no tomorrow, but I hope my kids don’t expect to be left much but good memories.

Final Notes on T’ai Chi Classics

Thought I’d end my discussion of Liao’s T’ai Chi classics with a quote and interpretation from the final two classics.

This quotation from The Treatise by Master Wong Chung-yua reminds me of one of my favorite aspects of Buddhism:

After coming to an understanding of the internal power of movement, you can approach the theory of natural awareness. Natural awareness is developed through practice over a long period of time; you cannot reach a sudden understanding of natural awareness without proper practice for an extended length of time.


The T’ai Chi system is based on the natural law of harmony and balance. Through the development of internal power you can obtain a full understanding of its character and properties, which will serve as a bridge to the stage of natural awareness.

According to Master Wong, the important point is that the natural awareness stage requires a long period of practice in T’ai Chi. After proper practice for an extended length of time, even though you may not be able to feel the gradual progression in your conscious mind, the accumulation of internal power will suddenly turn into a higher level of achievement, known as natural awareness. As an analogy, when heating water to its boiling point, it does not boil up gradually, but slowly accumulates heat and then suddenly begins to boil after reaching the proper temperature.

Proper practice means practicing under the supervision of a qualified master; practicing for an extended length of time means continuously practicing without interruption. As in the analogy of heating water to a boiling point, one’s development requires constant, uninterrupted “heat.”

Though I’m sure I’m still a long ways away from the kind of awareness described here, I have found that this kind of meditative movement, when I can’t be outside walking, makes me more aware of my inner feelings. Unexplainably, lately sometimes when I’m out birding, standing still, watching everything else move while I’m standing still, I unconsciously feel like breaking into a T’ai Chi movement.

I can’t remember when I first heard a comment like this one from the Treatise by Master Wu Yu-hsiang,

In T’ai Chi, being very soft and pliable leads to being extremely hard and strong. Command of proper breathing techniques leads to command of free and flexible movement.

In the Tao-te Ching, Lao Tzu (ca. 500 B.C.E.) asks, “Can you dedicate your internal energy, ch’i, and be as pliable and yielding as a baby?”

The only condition for allowing your internal energy to develop, grow, and become strong is that you must relax yourself and yield to the universe. When you become soft and pliable, your internal energy will gradually begin to develop and accumulate. Eventually you will have the ability to become extremely hard and strong, when it is necessary to do so. To make metal into the hardest steel, you must heat the metal, make it as soft and pliable as liquid, and then refine it into the hardest steel.

Freedom and flexibility of movement depend on the flow of internal energy. Internal energy development comes from the proper breathing techniques. A beginner in T’ai Chi should therefore examine and develop these techniques.

but I do remember being rather moved, like grass blowing in the wind, because before that I’d always thought of strength as being steadfast, always standing up for what you believed in, like a mighty Oak. It had never occurred to me that, under those conditions, grass was actually “stronger” than an oak tree.

It’s an Up and Down World

I was reminded today of what an up-and-down world it really is.

It started off on a real high note as I joined Mike for a walk along Ruston Way, the street bordering the Puget Sound. I was met by a Great Blue Heron standing a short ways away on an old piling. Soon I was noticing Goldeneye ducks, several varieties of grebes, cormorants, and most marvelously, a Tundra Swan, the first either Mike or I have ever seen in the area. And the whole walk was punctuated with invigorating talk, the kind that gets you thinking in new and exciting ways.

When I got home I spent about a half hour on the computer and then took Skye on his morning walk. Everything seemed to be going delightfully until I managed to slip while walking down a rather steep trail, either because I stepped on some wet leaves, a newly fallen stick, or because Skye was pulling too hard on the leash despite my five year of attempts to make him heel whenever we’re going down hill, particularly downhill on a wet, leaf-covered trail.

As soon as I fell, I knew I’d hurt something. I know because I swore rather loudly at the mutt, loudly enough that he actually heeled all the way home, despite the fact that my limp slowed me down to less than half my normal speed. When I got home I immediately wrapped my ankle in ice packs and elevated my foot for the next hour. As a result, there doesn’t seem to be any noticeable swelling. Of course, the ankle stiffened up, as well as my knee tightening in sympathy. I’m sure not going to make it to the YMCA tomorrow, though hopefully I’ll be back on track by Monday night T’ai Chi.

Though sitting at the computer wasn’t particularly comfortable, I decided to spend my time there rather than sitting around doing nothing. I’ve been working on Beginning Javascript, 3rd Edition that a friend recommended. Even that’s a mixed bag. It’s fun learning something new, it’s not so fun spending three hours coming to the realization that a “smart quote” is not the same as a “normal quote,” at least as far as BBEdit and Firefox are concerned.

I also became increasingly frustrated by my glasses when trying to type from a book while trying to also focus on the screen. It’s not a new problem of course, just an expensive one that I’ve been trying to ignore after spending two hundred dollars for a pair of “computer glasses” that don’t really work as well as my bifocals. I was in a bad enough mood that I decided to blow caution to the wind and spring for another pair of computer glasses, hopefully a pair that will work as well as the pair I had before this pair.

I thought they could just make them from my old prescription relatively inexpensively. My Bad. They wanted over $200 for a bottom-of-the-line pair. And since it’s been over two years since I had my last eye exam they thought it would be wise to get a new eye exam. I knew that, of course, but I haven’t had any problems seeing so I haven’t bothered spending money I’d rather spend other ways. After a $140 eye exam, I was told that my present prescription is fine. But, my eyes seem to be getting older, surprise, surprise, and there are enough small abnormalities that he’d recommend that I get an exam every year, which is exactly what’s recommended for people my age, anyway. At least he was specific enough that, if I can remember, I’ll probably do that next year.

Instead of going to T’ai Chi and pilates tomorrow morning, which I probably couldn’t do with my sore ankle, anyway, I have an 8:15 appointment for my annual physical and flu shot. Hopefully a day that starts out so badly will lead to a better conclusion than today did.

If at First You Don’t Succeed

Although Monday began with a dense fog, by early afternoon the fog had burned away and turned remarkably sunny. I had plans for the day, but after checking the forecast for the rest of the week and discovering that it was supposed to rain through Saturday, I decided to go out birding, even though it was too late to go to Nisqually or Belfair.

Instead, I headed for Steilacoom and the lake. Though the walk was quite delightful, the only birds I saw that I haven’t shown recently were some Canvasback ducks that were so far out in the middle of the lake that I didn’t even recognize what they were until I got home.

Even though I figured there were a few shots I could use here if I couldn’t get anything better, I decided to stop at the Tacoma Audubon society and check out the birds there. Though there wasn’t anything wildly unusual, at least nothing I could identify from blurry shots taken between branches, there were enough birds to hold my interest for a few hours.

Though quite common, I did like this shot of a House Finch. With a touch of snow this might have made a perfect Christmas Card:

House Finch

Still not entirely happy with the shots, I ended up stopping at Titlow even closer to home. It’s clear that more of our winter residents have returned from the north. There were several male Hooded Mergansers, which are certainly one of my favorite photographic subjects.

male Hooded Merganser

And there was even a few male Buffleheads, whose iridescent, blackish head and bright white feathers make it difficult to get a really good picture, not to mention their small size and their general shyness.

male Bufflehead