Internal Arts in a nutshell: “Stability born of rigidity feels strong. Stability born of shared load is strong. On the path of evolution: learning to let the Earth move through you
“Power and ease are not opposites.”
I started the school — our organization — in 1994. Though I was, and am, the leader, my leadership style has never been typical. In talks I’ve given over the years, I’ve described it as “leading while following.”
I try to feel the pulse of the time and the people within it. I ask for opinions, listen carefully, and do my best to filter out irrationality and anything inconsistent with our purpose. That process is not as easy as it may sound.
Now, after more than thirty years of this way of working, I am on a much-needed partial sabbatical, which I plan to continue until spring. It has given me the opportunity to rejuvenate — mentally, emotionally, and physically — and, perhaps most importantly, the space to reflect quietly.
I’ve noticed that the people around me don’t quite know how to respond to this shift. But I’m certain it’s good — not only for me, but for us, for our organization, and for our purpose.
What follows are my personal reflections on this process.
What I realized recently feels important — and very real.
What’s happening isn’t a mood, or a belief, or a story I’m telling myself. It feels like a genuine physiological and identity-level unwinding.
And interestingly—fascinatingly—enough, Dhanur Veda — specifically the art of archery in the form of sumo — is facilitating it.
For decades, being a leader required something specific from my body, not just my mind.
I had to stay upright when others leaned. Absorb uncertainty without losing myself to it. Make decisions while containing doubt. Hold responsibility in my body, not just in thought.
That doesn’t live only as ideas. It lives as chronic muscular tone. Subtle breath restriction. Readiness without rest. A nervous system that never fully stands down.
Over time, that becomes a posture of self.
Not fake. Not wrong. Just held.
What I’m noticing now is that sumo, of all things, is undoing that pattern.
Sumo is unusual among strength practices because it doesn’t reward bracing. It asks for grounding instead of tension. Downward permission instead of upward striving. Load transfer through geometry rather than will. Trust in structure rather than identity.
When it’s done correctly, the body learns something quietly radical:
“I don’t have to hold myself up. The ground is doing that.”
That’s not metaphorical. That’s proprioceptive.
And once the body learns that under real load, it begins to ask another question:
“Then why am I still holding this elsewhere?”
So things begin to let go, which is described in Dhanur Veda as well as the ancient Chinese texts as a cultivation of the internal arts.
That letting go feels both destabilizing and relieving.
It can show up as fatigue. Softness. Emotional permeability. Needing bread and butter instead of discipline. Strength going quiet for a while.
That doesn’t mean leadership is disappearing.
It means leadership is moving from effort to organization.
From “I must hold.” to “I am held.”
That transition always feels vulnerable — because the old pattern worked.
Here’s the quiet truth I keep coming back to:
I’m not becoming less capable. I’m becoming less armored.
And armor, once it relaxes, always reveals how heavy it was.
This doesn’t feel like collapse. It isn’t regression. It isn’t abdication.
It feels like redistribution of load.
The same principle I’ve learned in the lift applies here too: When geometry is correct, force distributes. No single joint has to suffer. Strength increases because effort decreases.
My life seems to be doing that now.
The line I keep returning to is this:
“I’m not letting go of responsibility. I’m letting go of bracing.” It is, rather, a sort of embodiment. Or, as the ancient masters might say: you do not pull up the bar, you do not aim the arrow — the Earth does that through you.
To listen to the audio version, please click here.
Live not to reach the rare. Live so that the rare can reach you.
I am on a partial sabbatical until springtime
Dhanur Veda: Life, Pu erh tea, archery, sumo, … it is all the same.
First minute or so of the YouTube video makes the point: Yi Jin Jing: The 5 Second Trick to HEAL Your FASCIA Instantly
Structure, containment, permission: In life, deliberate creates stable field structure and stable field in motion gives containment. the physiology gives permission. Impulsive creates leaks.
Most of life’s richness is chased—money, max lifts, rare teas, expensive things. Yet the real art is quieter. Dhanurveda, archery of the Veda, teaches aim without bracing. Tea teaches steeping without forcing. Training teaches lifting without leaks. The coherent field isn’t something you build by tightening; it’s something you notice when you stop bracing long enough to feel it.
I learned that the descent is part of the ascent. The field leaks when the pelvis isn’t contained. The pot muddies when the pour is delayed. Ritual doesn’t dictate direction; it seasons recognition. Recognition seasons ritual. Practice shapes preference; preference shapes practice. It goes both ways.
Calm doesn’t mean relaxed. Calm means organized. The field carries the release when the geometry is held without bracing. Over months and years, repetition seasons both vessel and practitioner, until the rare can meet you—at the floor, in the cup, or in the marketplace—without effort.
Coherence can be found in a walk, a warm bath, a quiet cup, or a lift held still during transitions. The ritual is personal. The field is universal. The teacher is recognition. You don’t chase the rare. You season the field so the rare can come to you.
“Ritual sculpts taste; taste sculpts ritual.”
A nice YouTube link: “The Art of Fascia Tensegrity: Moving Beyond Muscle in Tai Chi and Life” (for me, first two minutes felt enough). The mesh bag… fascia.
I am not an internal arts master. I am recognizing doors. Perhaps that is the most teachable stage of all. Ultimately, it is not about doors. It is about the room. But then, the doors are forgotten.
Recognition leads to no leaks.
To listen to the audio version, please click here.
The art of movement through space and how to cultivate it.
why this is valuable for everyone if they exercise or not
being merging knowing and doing
Root → Align → Open → Drive
Dhanurveda: the Spanda phases
calm means organized
dr shen no such thing as chakras
learning how to move.
sumo [horse stance] then motion under weight is the true test.. can not fake it
geometry in motion under weight… multiple moves too soon put focus on external
dr wang on youtube.. question if it is even real?
long routines can be external training with minimal internal focus
cultivating CNS. fascia, muscle integration. proper exercise is not about the muscle but indirectly
CNS gives permission, Fascia [silk web] regulates the flow, muscle follows.
Dhanurveda: power arising when geometry is recognized as safe
life in the physical is the art of archery
silk reeling web… fascia
fascia snags… not muscle knots
reading… I remember Mantak Chia books showed spirals
microcosmic orbit as overlay
discover it… do not overlay it
hara “location”… pressure… place where fascia planes meet
all movement come through the hara—center of fascia planes
dan tien… first chakra
the doors are not the room
doors are just valuable gateways but forgotten once in the room
at age 75 realizing i needed another 20 years to finish Mt Soma
started working out watching diet lead to sumo. watched and listened to western dead lifters [Natasha Auguy, Stefi Cohen], realized mapping to internal arts while clarifying them via another angle [reality].
To listen to the audio version, please click here.
I have been studying the works of ancient internal arts masters. At first not as an area of interest but as a need for understanding of what was happening to me. This has become the topic of a book I am in the process of writing. I discuss it here not only because I need to for myself, but also to offer some insight particularly for those who are around me. I know they have been concerned and are wondering. They deserve some explanation.
This is not emotional processing. It is not a psychological revelation. It is an ancient physiological art of unwinding that I am in the process of learning—of experiencing. The vehicle that I stumbled upon is Sumo. But the principles are universal and I believe essential for everyone.
I used to think calm meant relaxed. What I’m learning is that calm means organized. And when organization replaces bracing, there’s often a period where the old guard exits noisily.
Process / Phase
Parasympathetic reorganization Autonomic rebalancing Nervous system unwinding Protective pattern release Defensive tone dissolution Baseline reset System recalibration
Quiet coherence Structural confidence Unforced strength Baseline steadiness Distributed support
Important clarifiers
Not emotional processing Not catharsis Not regression Not instability Not something to induce
Anchor phrases
“The system is reorganizing.” “Old strategies are letting go.” “The body is updating its sense of safety.” “This is physiology, not psychology.” “Calm is arriving through organization, not relaxation.”
To listen to the audio version, please click here.
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