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Publishing in 2017 in Wuhun magazine.
Translation:The Three Realms of Martial Arts Cultivation
By Quan Weidong
The way of martial arts is fundamentally a matter of “entering and exiting.” No matter how complex or extraordinary the movements, techniques, or practical applications may appear, they all involve either striking toward the opponent or withdrawing from the opponent. Between entering and exiting lies the changing of the opponent’s force—its magnitude and direction—breaking the opponent’s balance and causing them to lose resistance. This is what people mean when they say: “No move is really a move.”
Taiji forms are circular, and Xingyi moves in straight lines. Yet if you remove the branches and leaves, the root is the same. All martial arts under heaven are ultimately one thing. Though there are hundreds of styles and schools, they are merely different manifestations pursuing the same goal.
Speaking only of martial arts, direct striking is simply fitness and technique. But beyond technique, there is also the “Dao.” What does Dao have to do with martial arts? Everything. Because both belong to the same principle. Dao is the fundamental law governing heaven, earth, and humanity. If one understands the laws of life and time through martial arts, transcending the limitations of time and space, one may attain great enlightenment.
Confucianism says there are countless methods leading to the same truth, yet martial arts may be the most direct path among them. This is because other disciplines seek outwardly, while martial arts seek inwardly. Through training, practitioners come to understand their own bodies. The human body is a small universe, interconnected with heaven and earth. Through this mutual correspondence and harmony, martial arts become an excellent path of self-cultivation. Hence the saying: “Enter the Dao through martial arts.”
At the same time, cultivation requires unity of mind and intention, balancing yin and yang, embodying heaven and earth, and understanding the great Dao. Yet everything still begins with the body. One must diligently practice each movement and every basic skill. Skill accumulates gradually until one reaches the state where “the body is like a bow,” “the frame like a cat,” “the muscles like cotton,” “the hairs like arrows,” and “the energy like gunpowder.” At this stage, one develops the explosive power of “striking with the whole body,” “spring force,” “whipping force,” and “penetrating force.” Then the saying “strike like a meteor, release force like shooting an arrow” is no longer empty talk.
But possessing skill is not enough; one must also know how to apply it. This requires further training so that movement and stillness become substantial and rooted, steps remain orderly, advance and retreat follow principle, and the center is always maintained. One must respond according to circumstances, adapting naturally while never losing one’s foundation. Otherwise, movements become reckless and emotionally driven.
To control an opponent, one must first develop listening skill—the ability to perceive force. Through listening, one can immediately sense the direction, magnitude, and intention of the opponent’s power, almost as if reading the opponent’s strategic deployment. At that point, victory is no longer difficult.
How does one develop listening skill? First understand your own body structure and the relationship between force and relaxation. Only by understanding oneself can one understand others. Through sensitivity developed in one’s own hands and legs, one can perceive the truth of emptiness and solidity. Thus one can strike later yet arrive first, avoid the opponent’s force, lure them into emptiness, and remain adaptable beyond fixed methods. This reflects the military principle: “Know yourself and know your opponent, and you need not fear a hundred battles.” Military strategy studies collective warfare; martial arts studies individual combat. Yet martial arts and military strategy ultimately share the same principles. All disciplines are interconnected, and what connects them is the Dao.
Sun Lutang once said: “Technique is not the ultimate skill.” This is no empty statement. Confucius also said: “What is above form is called Dao; what is below form is called technique.” Technique belongs to the realm of form, while Dao is formless, beyond deliberate action. Compared with Dao, what significance can mere technique alone possess?