Today I practiced in darkness. The only lights: outdoor Christmas tree lights (our version of a yard light) that snuck around the corners of the house and an office light which emptied into the hallway and leaked into one end of the living room where I stood.
My balance felt shaky, my footing unsure, so I immediately focused on the bottoms of my feet. At first I speculated that my weight shift forward and back was just a wee bit more circular than usual (and I mean weaving to the sides rather than circling front to back) because I was just out of bed, still a bit creaky and stiff. Then I wondered whether my injured knee was responsible for my feelings of instability.
When I got further into the form to the side-to-side movements, Carry the Ball and the Taffies, my efforts to stay balanced eased somewhat. But, after all these years of practicing and teaching, I was surprised by how difficult it was to remain balanced and sure-footed in the darkness. After I concluded my practice and went into my office to write I discovered--upon trying a few movements in the light--that shifting my weight felt smooth and balanced ... easy.
After today I know what it feels like to practice in almost-total darkness. It's peaceful. Quiet. Slow motion as if in a dream. And it's also difficult ... to feel stable, fully relaxed, at ease. Perhaps I'll do future experiments with light and darkness but, for the moment, I'm more than happy to turn on a lamp for my early-morning t'ai chi chih practices.
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