The Elements of Production and Conquest

Breathe in… breathe out.

It always begins with air into the lungs. Regulating my breathing, controlling it, meant controlling my thoughts, and being in tune with myself. Staying connected, and keeping connected. That was the only way this was going to work.

Taking a deep breath in, holding it for a beat, then letting it flow, releasing naturally with no degree of force or frustration, I thus began the mental preparation for what was at hand. The daily, morning practice of my Xingyiquan empty hand set, Wu Xing Lian Huan Quan.

It was the same as any other morning. Nothing that was any different than from before, save for weather conditions on some days. And there I stood, on a football field of a long forgotten old high school stadium, basking in the sunlight of the new dawn, enriched and enraptured by the warmth of the sunlight beaming on me, kissing every inch of exposed skin, signaling the fire of life in and throughout the muscles of my body. I stood in my ready position, and with a burst of enthusiasm and intent, I spread my arms outward, curving upward, as if drawing energy in, and then passing both hands down before me, centering myself. Bending my knees slightly, dropping my weight, grounding me. A slight pause and then a twist to my left, stepping out with hands extended, softly opening to the loose stillness of the Three Body Posture… the calm before the storm of what was about to erupt.

And, erupt, it did.

Moving through the five fists of Xingyiquan with explosive presence, resolute disposition, and a sense of urgency, today’s practice took on a new life, and bore fruit of a different purpose.

It perhaps wasn’t the same as any other morning. Something was a little different than from before.

Xingyiquan is one of the three major internal styles of Kung-Fu. The most direct, and easily transferrable, based on the movements and techniques of the spear, and built upon the theory of the five elements. Fire, water, earth, wood, and metal. Each fist represents one of the elements, and the use of it mimics, in some way, the action or quality of its corresponding element. The five elements exist in two cycles, those of mutual production, and conquest. Basically, there is an ease of progression from one to the next, but each also has the absolute outcome of being overcome. This keeps the attacks free flowing, only stopping when one disengages their attacks. At its simplest consideration, the theory of the mutual production and conquest of the five elements can be seen as an elaborate game of Rock, Paper, Scissors. Xingyiquan is straightforward, obeying only one direction of movement: forward. Even if stepping off of the line one travels on, the movement is continued in a line. One essentially drives directly to the heart of the fight.

As it turns out, there lied the difference in today’s practice for me. Given the turmoil of my recent personal life, of all the training practices I could turn to, something drew me toward the direct and linear nature of Xingyiquan. There was a void to be filled, something to be had, something to be gained. But, gathering and trying to decipher my many emotions about the matters at hand, I had to ask myself if it was really truth that I sought, or chaos? As I had no answer and no clue as to what the purpose was, I turned to the all too familiar five elements of Kung-Fu. It was in this that I thought to grasp my reality from the void of nothingness that left me empty. Upon completing a line that consisted of the five fists in several cycles of production, I spun around with intricate and dizzying footwork, and began the same sequence of punches, moving in the direction from which I had just come.

Granted, I had chosen Xingyiquan to give me my answers, but what was it trying to tell me, exactly? Brazenly stepping forward delivering Pi Quan, the fist representing the element of metal, I brought my fist down in a hammering action, as if splitting something, or cleaving into something. A smooth, unrelenting force, hacking into, and cutting through the dense forestry of my own troubles seemed to be the way to proceed through my tumult.

This then gives way to the flowing overcoming force of water, represented by the next fist in the order, Zuan Quan, action of drilling upward, lashing out quickly crashing like a wave, unencumbered and free reign, unless contained. What this told me was to forget being stalled by those things that would look to impede my progress and happiness, and squelch the slow burn of discontent in my soul.

Water nourishes the wood, making it grow, which was the third fist in my sequence as I moved down the field, step by step. Beng Quan stretches, develops, extends, and expands powerfully and profusely, unquestionably, landing unyieldingly as if struck with a log, or some such wooden object. Absolutely no give, at all. This detailed my next move in my own cycle of production for my path in life, which was issues that require the strength, the durability, and the fortitude to withstand connection while taking it down and out, where the passivity of flowing like water would not do… as strong an element as water can be… where rigidity and unwavering are called for, I must use it. Those particular obstacles (i.e., adversities) that may come in life, they cannot stand up to an overpowering resolve, and can be slowed down or stalled completely if need be.

Wood will no doubt give way to fire, as it can be the thing that will catch a spark, and ignite, feeding it. Pao Quan was the fourth fist in the sequence, blending internal energy and external mechanics more so than the other fists, producing a robust simultaneous block and strike (which really is a strike and strike, as a signature of Xingyiquan is to use offence motions as defense), exploding to life like a cannon firing, materializing and diminishing just as quickly. Fire allowed to grow, and burn fast and searingly hot, will destroy the blatant edge and destructive force of metal. So, for me, as quickly as Pao Quan arrives, finds its target, and does what it needs to with blazing quickness, and a heated passion for the endeavor, I should move when needed, sticking strictly to the business at hand for the outcomes that I want.

Earth finds its way from fire, which made it the final element in the cycle of production, and the final fist in my line. Heng Quan is a peculiar strike, coming from the side, in a rounded motion. The significance is that it’s round like the Earth, and neutral like the firmament, going neither high nor low in its use, staying in the middle. While not the most natural antithesis of water, for situations that want to flow seemingly nonstop and offer no sign of alleviation, by staying ahead of the flow, I could potentially direct it to go where I needed, and do and be what I wanted. Heng Quan is specifically targeted, so specifically aimed, and therefore, specifically placed. Earth is the birthing place for metals, and after this final part of the cycle, the continuity begins again. All elements of nature, all cyclical… much like the cycle of my approaching my current issues in life, and why I had turned to Xingyiquan for the answer. I knew that my answer would be found in the elements.

As I reached the end of the cycle, I looked ahead, and there was still so much more field to use. I could’ve stopped. I could’ve turned around, and gone back down the line in the opposite direction. Instead, I chose to continue on the cycle of the five punches… Pi, Zuan, Beng, Pao, and Heng, as to me, continuing to move forward on my line of attack would only allow me to further explore the gift of revelation that was granted to me today. And so, the cycle began again. And so, exploring the depth of my fractured soul, not in the irreparable state that I thought it once to be in, I continued. Each step, each punch, each adherence to the action of the uniqueness and quality of the element, just took me further and further toward the truth that I sought for myself, finding the chaos in my karma, and finally overcoming its cycle of conquest in me.

It wasn’t the same as any other morning. This morning offered something refreshing and rewarding for me. I rekindled some semblance of who I am, which points me toward where I want to go, showing me that what I’m doing is not the way. It’s not MY way.

Interestingly enough, when I stray too far from my Kung-Fu, I truly do lose myself. Of everything that I am and do, nothing is more “me” than the martial arts. Specifically, Kung-Fu. All I needed was a reminder, and to be presented with my truth.

Today, I found my way again. The empty space… the hole in my heart… Xingyiquan told me how to fill it. And, as the combat theory clearly demonstrates, I’ll encounter the various elements of life thrown at me with the correct answer, and continue to move forward.