I’ve always been a busybody. I have never been content unless I’m doing a couple of things at the same time. Of course, this type of thinking was bound to kick my ass, at one point or another, and it finally did, two years ago.

A hypertensive episode left me reeling from vertigo for a couple of days, and it would take a toll on my strength and composure for weeks to come. It was weird. Historically, my blood pressure had always been on the low side, but you know, #life. And that’s how I found myself bedridden for a couple of days, rendered helpless by the failings of my body. It was frustrating.

I had been going on all four cylinders for years. There was always this impulse to do more, be more. But then one morning, I just woke up and my world was spinning, literally. Clueless me did not go to the doctor right away. I thought it was nothing. I had been so used to being the caregiver that I didn’t think I would eventually need caring myself. As it turned out, my blood pressure was so high that it was a wonder I didn’t end up in the hospital. That’s the thing with hypertension. Most sufferers don’t experience any symptoms at all, until you get your head spinning, that is.

Three years before, I took up boxing and rediscovered the joys of breaking a sweat. I longed to get moving again, but was not in any shape to start doing so. I was anxious more than anything else. So terrified was I of getting my blood pressure up that I managed to get my blood pressure up! Mwahahahaha! At one point, my doctor told me to stop taking readings because I was regularly working myself into an anxiety attack. It was hilarious! This would go on for days until nerdy me started reading and found tai chi.

A martial art originating from 13th century China, tai chi combines deep breathing and relaxation with flowing movements, and it was exactly what I needed at the time. I had to slow down. I had to relax. I had to breathe. I had to tai chi!

I had a hard time doing it at first. The movements were just too slow. I was used to jabbing and bobbing, and here was the instructor asking me to hug a tree or move like a cloud. It was unnerving. But I had to go slow. I couldn’t afford not to.

After a few tries, I was able to do it, ever so awkwardly. I would start my day in front of the screen, following steps from an instructor. In time, my body was able to learn the movements. I was surprised at how the poses flowed from one to the next, like a dance, and I was no dancer. So occupied was I at executing the movements correctly that my mind was emptied of all other thoughts. I was a cloud in the sky. I was a snake creeping on the ground. I was a crane spreading its wings. It was wonderful.

I became mindful of my breathing, too. I came to be conscious of the way my body filled up with air and then emptied of it. I came to appreciate the graceful slowness of it, begging me to release and to relax one muscle at a time.

You would think that something that slow can’t possibly have you breaking a sweat, but it does, oh it does! When I’m really into it, I could feel the energy flowing through me, and work up quite a sweat.

One time, I don’t know how or why, it had me sobbing like a baby. I was in the middle of my practice when thoughts of my father engulfed me. But I tai chi-ed on, flying like a crane with tears flowing down my cheeks.

I found out too that I could move with some sort of grace, giving me enough confidence to sign up for a ballet workshop. And when we all got locked down, tai chi gave me the mindset to cherish the peace and quiet of it all.

Taking up tai chi was one of the best decisions I ever made, and I’d forever be grateful for the gifts it gave me.

Want to learn more? Here’s a video to get you going…