The Tao on the Go: Standing Meditation

If you’ve been attending my Tai Chi classes for a while, you’re probably familiar with our opening routine.

We begin with some breath work and gentle movements to awaken the body, and then a few minutes of standing meditation known as Zhan Zhuang—often translated as standing like a tree.

If you’ve practiced it, you already know that this involves standing with arms extended for several minutes, which frequently evokes a reaction from newer practitioners:

“Why do we have to hold our arms up--and for so long? It’s uncomfortable. It’s distracting.”

My answer is always the same.

Because life is sometimes uncomfortable and distracting. And those are the moments when we need our practice the most.

Meditation is often treated as something we do only under perfect conditions: a quiet room, soft music, dim lighting, maybe a candle or a little incense. There is certainly value in that. But life rarely offers those conditions when we need them most.

Zhan Zhuang teaches—trains—us to find steadiness in the middle of discomfort. It reminds us that connecting with our breath is still available when we’re frustrated while stuck in traffic, anxiously awaiting test results, or in the middle of a difficult conversation.

It also teaches us something about ourselves.

As your arms grow heavy, what happens in your mind? Do you immediately want to quit? Do you distract yourself by thinking about something else? Do you count the seconds until it’s over? Do you glance around the room to see if anyone else has lowered their arms, so that you can, too?

Those thoughts are worth noticing—not because they’re good or bad, but because they often resemble how we respond to challenges outside of class. When life offers discomfort and stirs our focus, what we learn from our Zhan Zhuang practice can bring us back to an inner stillness that balances out the exterior chaos.

This is your weekly The Tao on the Go invitation: Practice this standing meditation method at home this week. 

Each day, set a timer and forget about it. Gradually increase the time a little bit more. And then observe how this practice touches your life. 

You may discover that stillness isn't the absence of difficulty. It's the ability to remain present and regulated in the middle of it.

--Rhiannon