[Extreme Martial Arts] Challenge Tai Chi

Author: Jeffi Chao Hui Wu

Fecha: 30-7-2025 Miércoles, 11:56 a.m.

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[Extreme Martial Arts] Challenge Tai Chi
Tai Chi cannot be used in real combat; this statement has been heard for many years. Almost every so often, self-proclaimed "practical" fighters, boxers, and martial arts enthusiasts jump out, looking for a vague video or an elderly Tai Chi master to challenge, and with high frequency, fast pace, and explosive attitude, they conclude: Tai Chi is useless, traditional techniques are obsolete. However, very few people genuinely respond: Are these challenges fair? Are the rules equal? Do the challengers truly understand the system and training path of the challenged? In most cases, the so-called challenge to Tai Chi is essentially a forced judgment of a completely different training system based on one's own framework.
In almost every case of "challenging Tai Chi," it is initiated by fighters with higher ranks, better physical fitness, and longer training periods. Not a single challenger is a beginner or a low-level competitor. This alone indicates that the essence of the challenge has always been an unequal contest of "strong against weak." If Tai Chi truly "cannot fight," why arrange for these strong competitors to compete? If it is merely "a game," why not find a peer or a similarly weighted novice to practice with? In other words, the stronger the challenger, the more it ironically proves that Tai Chi is considered "threatening and worth challenging"; otherwise, there would be no need to deploy these high-level fighters. This is a phenomenon that has been overlooked but is highly revealing of structure: every challenge is, in fact, an acknowledgment of Tai Chi; the choice of challengers at a high level only corroborates that Tai Chi has never been genuinely underestimated.
What if today it were not Tai Chi being challenged, but Tai Chi actively initiating the challenge rules? What if the challenge had to unfold within the structure of Tai Chi, prohibiting explosive attacks, prohibiting high-speed charges, and prohibiting the use of modern combat rules, but instead completely following the training logic of Tai Chi internal power, such as relaxation, silk reeling, harmonization, listening to energy, leading with intention, accumulating strength, overcoming the large with the small, and countering with timing? Then, I ask, how many challengers could cross the most basic threshold of Tai Chi: standing still with eyes closed in a single-leg stance for ten minutes, without opening their eyes or swaying their body, maintaining relaxation and stability? This standing practice is not achievable through brute force but relies on highly controlled structural adjustments; if it were not part of the long-term training of old masters, it would be nearly impossible for anyone to complete this basic exercise. This is not a performative single-leg "exertion," but rather a "physiological stability system" after fine-tuning the entire body.
When all "challenges" refuse to enter the realm of Tai Chi's rules, it is not Tai Chi's weaknesses that are exposed, but the blind spots of modern combat cognition. Because challengers always judge Tai Chi from their own rhythm and rules, it is like asking a marathon runner to compete with a sprinter in a hundred-meter race and then denying the practical value of marathon running based on that. The rhythm and principles of Tai Chi are indeed another "dimension," not the combat tempo that you and I take for granted.
What if today it were not Tai Chi being challenged, but Tai Chi actively setting the challenge rules? If the challenge had to unfold within the structure of Tai Chi, prohibiting explosive strikes, prohibiting high-speed charges, and prohibiting the use of modern combat techniques, but instead following the complete training logic of Tai Chi internal power, such as softness, stability, and unity of intention, I ask, how many challengers could last a minute without exposing a flaw? And who could meet the most basic threshold proposed by Tai Chi: standing with eyes closed, in a single-leg stance for at least ten minutes, with legs not touching the ground, maintaining relaxation and stability, sinking energy to the dantian, and concentrating the mind? Please note, this is not a high-difficulty action, but the foundation of Tai Chi, part of the daily practice of many old masters, a comprehensive test of engaging the entire nervous, muscular, and balance systems. This is the true touchstone that reflects the phrase "exerting skill."
I have repeatedly verified this in my training records. For example, in "Standing on One Leg with Eyes Closed for 10 Minutes," I documented the entire process of standing on one leg with eyes closed for over ten minutes without any assistance, with my body relaxed and energy sinking into my feet. In "Single Leg Standing for 23 Minutes," I stood on grass in cold weather wearing thin clothing, maintaining my eyes closed for over 23 minutes in a shadow without disturbance, my feet completely still, breathing naturally and evenly, with my body slightly warm and pulsating, truly entering a state of neural control and the fusion perception of fascia energy. "Structural Single Leg Standing for 40 Minutes" further reveals the deep value of the traditional action "single leg standing" in modern neural regulation and core muscle group coordination. This is not a trivial skill, nor is it a performance; it is a stability test of advanced biological structure—an area that non-Tai Chi practitioners cannot approach.
The problem has never been with Tai Chi, but with the way challenges are conducted. Those who challenge Tai Chi have never stood at the threshold of Tai Chi; they use explosive power and the advantages of youth and weight to confront a system that has long practiced slow techniques, primarily focusing on relaxation. A hundred-meter sprinter mocks a yogi for not being able to run; a boxer claims that a person practicing standing meditation does not fight back. The absurdity of such challenges immediately becomes apparent when shifted to another field. Yet in the martial arts realm, it is easily replicated, selectively edited, and rhythmically hyped, misleading the public's judgment of martial skills, people, and time. Different schools within the same lineage have different core training, and different systems have different combat dimensions. Tai Chi, in particular, is a discipline that elevates "combat" to the advanced study of "structural balance" and "energy control," where its so-called "real combat" is not merely a contest of grappling techniques but a deeper mobilization of energy and the path of stability.
I am not defending Tai Chi. Indeed, many people practice only the empty forms. Faux routines, or even treat it as a park fitness dance, certainly cannot fight. But this is not a problem with Tai Chi; it is a problem with the practitioners. Similarly, a strong and robust boxer who does not train diligently and relies solely on swinging punches will also lack any combat effectiveness. Looking back, the ultimate conclusion is singular—regardless of the martial arts school, even within the same lineage, whether one can fight depends on individual practice, not on the superiority of any "school." Even within the same lineage, whether one has stance, energy, and internal power, and whether one practices for ten, twenty, or thirty years, is a crucial part of the final conclusion. It does not pursue a single strike victory, nor does it seek to be undefeated for a lifetime; it does not aim to harm others, but it allows you to stand firm amidst the wind and rain. This is a way of fighting, and also a higher way of living.
Many people may question—"Is it fair to set challenges based on Tai Chi rules?" To which I respond: In all the ways that have challenged Tai Chi today, which one has been fair to Tai Chi? From training duration, age, weight, technique selection, to ring setup, judging standards, and competition venues, which aspect has truly been designed for Tai Chi? Even the so-called "no rules fighting" still inherently favors the explosive system's natural advantages, never considering the energy recovery and structural rhythm of Tai Chi's internal power system. To put it bluntly, this kind of challenge itself has long concealed structural unfairness towards Tai Chi. All current methods of challenging Tai Chi are like a monkey using a stone to evaluate a symphony, limited by the misinterpretation of the linguistic system, and cannot genuinely discuss "victory or defeat."
Today’s combat systems cannot provide any case of a 90-year-old competitor challenging a contemporary Tai Chi master. This is not a matter of individual capability but a fundamental difference in system structure and purpose. Combat is about "quick victory at all costs," while Tai Chi is about "longevity and health."
Therefore, when all the world's combat systems cannot maintain combat capability at an advanced age, while Tai Chi can still prove "standing firm, flowing freely, and generating power at ninety," who is it that cannot fight?
I have repeatedly clarified that the true practical combat of Tai Chi does not lie in the collision of fists and feet, but in the victory of structure. What is structure? It is standing firm, being immovable, being relaxed yet not collapsing, being heavy yet not stagnant, integrating internal energy and external force, having the ability to sense before the opponent moves, and to neutralize before they strike. This is the true way of confrontation in Tai Chi: not winning through attacking power, but winning through an "invincible" system.
All challenges essentially boil down to: as long as I use my rules, I will be invincible! If one cannot accept the rule system of Tai Chi, is unwilling to enter the structural logic of Tai Chi, and is not willing to complete the most basic training tests under the same conditions, then the challenge is merely empty talk. Those who truly challenge Tai Chi, please stand with your eyes closed for ten minutes before speaking.
The true confrontation in Tai Chi has never been about 'knocking someone down,' but about 'no one can knock me down.' Before your moves are even executed, I have already made you lose your balance—this is the true victory of Tai Chi.
Those who genuinely challenge Tai Chi, please stand with your eyes closed for ten minutes before speaking.

Source: http://www.australianwinner.com/AuWinner/viewtopic.php?t=697080