The Passing of a Warrior Mystic

This condensed version of the only extensive interview of Patrick Watson recorded by Andrew Dell'Olio was published in the T'ai Chi Press Vol.1 No.4 in 1993 at the time of Patrick's death.

Did Professor Cheng ask you directly to be a teacher?

He sure did. I was there with Judy Deane and I would never have asked the question. Judy asked him: 'Should  Patrick teach?' There was no question in his mind; it wasn't a matter of 'Should I teach?', it was a matter of: 'You will teach.' I was ordered to, I had no choice in the matter.

It just went from there, and in the progression of hierarchical systems it was like being accepted as a little disciple, then a worthy, receiving permission to teach, then getting permission to teach teachers specifically, and then being accepted as a little brother, which is elevating if you understand the Chinese system to his level and age.

But to have come that far—especially as a Caucasian—with the prejudiced outlook of martial arts from the Chinese point of view, just showed you that there is reality in such a man as Professor Cheng. He didn't look at the externals, he only looked at whether or not you were serious about doing the work.

As  Oscar  [Ichazo, founder of the Arica school] says, he tested him twenty four hours around the clock and he found no openings. He said the man was pure consciousness, and that was my experience of him too.

You   studied   with Professor Cheng for nine years—beginning in what year?

Oh gosh, let's see—I'm 55 now—it was 30 years ago. But I'd studied with two other teachers prior to that in the same tradition. I studied with Master Choy and before that with Doctor Liu, so I had been studying the same form of T'ai Chi for a number of years. It's interesting that I discovered the Yang Style Short Form so early on. Master Choy's father and Professor Cheng were classmates under Yang Ch'eng-fu, by the way.

I even had a Taiwanese copy of Professor Cheng's book, which we used to call "the little blue book," and when I read it I knew he was the man I wanted to study with.

Is there a difference in the way your teachers teach T'ai Chi and the way that you teach T'ai Chi?

The differences are that I've been teaching since I was seven years old. Both my parents were teachers and I grew up by learning and teaching. When I went swimming at the Jewish Community Center—I was in the Jewish Children's Theater then—whatever it was you learned you had to turn around and teach it, in other words you couldn't hold on to it, you had to pass it on to someone else. We try to keep that attitude in the T'ai Chi School, and we try to keep that balance: that no teacher can be a teacher per se unless they're a student. But I am considered a Master teacher, even Professor Cheng recognized that, so there is also that difference.

When Professor Cheng asked you—ordered you—to teach, was he aware of the connection between you and Oscar Ichazo and Arica, and that you would go in that direction with the School?

Oh yes. I had the pleasure of bringing them both together.

When I first heard the John Lilly tape recording of Oscar's teaching to the Americans in that first year down in Chile I said: 'Gosh, he sounds just like Professor Cheng!' What he was talking about, in terms of the instincts, the tan t'ien, the kath—everything he was talking about was exactly the same, there wasn't any difference. It was like: 'Hey, I understand this because I've been studying it for years with Professor Cheng.' To quote Oscar: T'ai Chi and Arica have the same origins; they appear to be traveling parallel but soon they'll be back together again.

And you encourage your students to do Arica work?

Absolutely. I encourage them to do Arica work and for Aricans to study T'ai Chi, because they are sympatico. And the people who have a contradictory attitude about 'this is better' or 'that's better—it's nonsense; it's just another side up the same mountain.

In your opinion would you consider T'ai Chi more of a mystical or spiritual discipline than a martial discipline?

It certainly is at its highest levels and in the way we teach it, in terms of it being a mystical approach. Professor Cheng talked about the Tao, and when you talk about the Tao you have to be aware that we're talking about a mystical path.

Look at Professor Cheng and his age—Oscar commented about this, and I saw it too—here I was, in my prime, and this guy who was in his late sixties bounced me around like I'm a toy, and I should be able to take him out easily, I mean he's a little old man, right? God, it was like nothing: I was breaking out in a sweat, he was fine; he was moving faster than I was, it was amazing.

Because at that level, as Oscar says, it's pure consciousness. There's no technique, there's no strength: it's pure consciousness; and so it has to be, it can't be anything else.

In the past, in traditional ways of teaching such arts as T'ai Chi and mystical traditions, there is a need for a one-to-one relationship between the disciple and the master.

There's always been a master disciple relationship, yes. Both in Arica and in T'ai Chi we have given a method across the school, but it doesn't mean you don't have to come into contact with a Master at some point, it's essential to the process—you can't eliminate that part.

Teaching is what Oscar said our School is about: we have to become teachers and we have to train teachers. I see a lot of people who think they're going to become Masters— well gosh kids, you'd better take another look at what that means: it means you're going to lead a life of service to humanity and you'd better learn how to teach, and if you've been avoiding that you've got a long way to catch up.

Would you say that one of the major differences between this T'ai Chi School and others, is that the School of T'ai Chi Chuan is a school for learning to be of service to humanity?

As a teacher, yes, absolutely. Both Oscar Ichazo and Professor Cheng emphasized the importance of teaching to pass on the work of each of the two schools. It's through teaching that we have an opportunity for the continuation of the process of growth.

When I asked Professor Cheng about the possibility of studying with one of the great Pa Kua Hsingyi masters in San Francisco he said: 'Why, when you have me? Remember: the growth of the tree is at the top!' And he pointed his finger to his nose and said: 'That's where we are. Don't get caught out on a limb.' The Professor was saying to learn from him and to follow his lead. So just as he gave us the 'Eight Ways,' [see T'ai Chi Press, Vol.1, No.1] I've given the team teaching method to the School of T'ai Chi, and of course the children's games. So the growth at the top of the tree continues, and we're teaching our students to do the same, to be a continuation of a long line of teachers.

When did you first meet Professor Cheng and what was your first experience of him?

I was studying with Master Choy, whose father had been a brother student with Professor Cheng under Yang Ch'eng-fu. Master Choy's grandfather was the first to bring Yang style T'ai Chi to the United States, so there is a strong historical connection with the Choy family in this country. From Master Choy I learned Sword, Sabre, T'ai Chi, and the fundamentals of Push Hands.

I also studied T'ai Chi with another Yang stylist. Doctor Liu, who had been trained in Hong Kong. She was a Ph.D. in physical education and spoke Mandarin, Cantonese, and English. From her I also learned Sword, Sabre, and T'ai Chi.

 It was around this time that I showed Professor Cheng's book to Master Choy and asked him if would he help me to attend the Professor's classes should he ever come to San Francisco to teach. When he did eventually come there Master Choy sent his son, Frankie, and myself to study in the first class the Professor taught, at the Chinese Art Gallery in Chinatown.

It was quite an experience learning T'ai Chi from this gentle man, who was teaching us in a salon with his own paintings displayed around the walls. The only other Caucasian in the room was Tam Gibbs, who was working with the Professor as a translator. Tam had already learned the form in New York. Otherwise, the class consisted of Chinese people who spoke only Cantonese and no Mandarin, so English was the language of instruction for all of us.

During that time Tam and I developed a close rapport. We had a lot of good times following Professor Cheng around and taking him places in the car.

Can you give an example of what you did?

Well, one of the trips we made was to Monterey to teach T'ai Chi to some Chinese students, one of whom had opened an art gallery. A gentleman there, who was a teacher of Mandarin at the Monterey Language Lab for the Military, asked us this question: 'How can I teach the concept of chi to westerners?' And I said to him: The only way you can do it is to teach your students T'ai Chi and let them experience it.' So he set up a T'ai Chi class at the language school.

Many years later, when my wife Peggy and I were at her old home in Connecticut, I discovered that the husband of a woman we were visiting had studied with this man, and he told me this story. He said:

'I've never been very athletic. I was at the Language Lab on a three year program to learn Arabic and we had to pass these compulsory physical fitness tests: running, sit-ups and push-ups, etc. in order to stay in the school and remain in the army. Well this guy offered a T'ai Chi class and that's all the exercise I did, nothing else. I passed the test within the upper 25% of the group, and I hadn't done anything else but T'ai Chi!'

I told him that this is a common experience: T'ai Chi will always enhance whatever it is you want to do; it gives you the energy to do what you need to do, especially on a physical level. Professor Cheng used to say: 'T'ai Chi will enhance whatever you do, but whatever else you do will slow down your progress in T'ai Chi/ And each time I've found this to be true. I used to observe it in San Francisco where there are a lot of hills: people would come to me after the first ten hours of class and say: "You know what happened to me today?"

I'd say: "No, what?"

"At lunchtime I walked up the hill I walk up every day and all of a sudden I was at the top and I wasn't winded! And the only thing I've been doing differently is T'ai Chi!"

And I'd say: "That's it, you're starting to embody principle— good for you!" These stories keep recurring and are not surprising to a good teacher.

What was your first impression of Professor Cheng? What was your sense of him?

Well, he came on very softly. I'd been with other masters in the hard martial arts and they could seesaw back and forth and be very brusque and heavy. Professor Cheng was always very gentle and soft, always healing. He was a fine artist, a poet and a calligrapher with a delicate touch. My mother said she thought he was the gentlest man she had ever met.

What were the Professor's methods as a teacher?

His teaching method was mostly traditional. In New York, after we eventually learned the form, he'd demonstrate the first move in silence, maybe speak a little Chinese, then he'd leave the room and the senior students would be left to teach the remainder of the class. But in the very early days he stayed with us the whole time to help us through.

Ben Lo was the one who summed it up when he saw a video of Professor Cheng teaching in New York. He said: "My God, he puts his hands on you!" So, literally, we had the hands of the Master on us, which is something they didn't have in Taiwan. There he taught in the traditional way: you touch him, you get pushed.

He never put his hands on the junior students to correct them, it was always verbal or through the senior students. So the fact that we had free access to him and that he corrected his senior pupils with his own hands was a real blessing. This shows that Professor Cheng was a true Master of Change since he was totally able to adapt his teaching to the Western style. This was our gift from him, that we received direct transmission from his hands on approach.

Did he tell stories of his own teachers?

Oh yes, he told stories about Yang Ch'eng-fu and about Yang Ch'eng-fu's family, his uncles, his father, and he told stories about T'ai Chi students and their processes and how they came to him. Because of the types of teaching stories he used to tell, some people in New York regarded Professor Cheng as a Chinese Sufi master.

Can you recall any of those stories?

Well, this may not be what you'd call a Sufi tale, but I do recall one story he told us about Yang Ch'eng-fu.

Yang Ch'eng-fu was a northern Chinese, very heavy and big, almost seven feet tall. In the photographs of him in books doing the form it looks as if his wrists are broken backwards, and it looks like he's leaning. I asked Professor Cheng about these anomalies and his answers were very interesting. He said that Yang Ch'eng-fu's wrist joints were so open he could take his own two fingers and put them inside the joint, which was why he could bend his wrist up rather than keep

Beauteous Hand. It was open so the chi could flow, it was not locked up like it would be for us. Sung is the quality: relax and sink. You're sinking chi but at the same time there is relaxing through the sinews, muscles, and the joints, letting them all fall open like a child's.

Do you know the story of Yang Ch'eng-fu being locked up?

It was said that he was locked in a room by his father for three years because when he went to work in Beijing to teach T'ai Chi—the public form, not the private family form— to the bodyguards of the Emperor, he got into carousing and drinking. When his father heard of this he got quite angry and called him home and locked him up. He fed him, saw to his studies and made him practice special T'ai Chi work. After three years he emerged with a mastery that stayed with him for the rest of his life.

I'd like to ask you about your own beginnings as a teacher of T'ai Chi. Is is true that you originally taught at the Esalen Institute?

Yes, that was before I met Oscar and before I did Arica work. In the very early days I started in a little garage in San Francisco owned by the Noyes family, who were the owners of the Chinese press and periodicals, but they were real small classes I taught there.

In those early days I also taught at the San Francisco Jewish Community Center on Presidio and California Streets, where the old California cable car line used to go. When I was a kid I went there to learn how to swim and do gymnastics, judo, dancing, and theater. So it was only fair that I return there to teach them T'ai Chi.

It was then that I first coined the name "The School of T'ai Chi Chuan." I'd been reading Idries Shah's book on the Sufis and prior to that I'd been reading about Gurdjieff and his travels. He talks about the Sarmoun Brotherhood in the Pamir, who refer to themselves as The School, and I thought that would be a wonderful name, so that was when the 'School of T'ai Chi Chuan' was christened.

I was also teaching at Esalen around this time. It was there that I started hearing about what was going on in Arica, Chile, with Oscar Ichazo—who was referred to at that time as a Sufi Master of the 'rapid method' (Naqshbandi). Needless to say this is only one of the things Oscar knew about, since he himself is an original and his work to this day proves that. He truly is a source of a new tradition.

At that time we were getting reports of Oscar via what we referred to as The John Lilly tapes, and we used to sit around and listen to them. He sounded so much like Professor Cheng, in terms of what he was saying, that I thought the two of them should meet.

Eventually I had the great privilege of bringing these two masters together, and it was like the meeting of two lost brothers.

The School has grown significantly since then—how did you attract students in those early days?

We went to a lot of street fairs and did demonstrations of T'ai Chi and gave out cards that had koans on them with little graphics. For example, there'd be a picture of a mouth with teeth and tongue showing, and it would ask the question: Why does the tongue far outlast the teeth?', and inside it would say: Because in softness there is real strength. School of T'ai Chi Chuan, our phone number, etc. We had a whole series of cards like that for giveaways. We'd answer questions and pass out information sheets and so on.

Where do you see the School right now, and what do you see for its future?

Well, I think we're doing our job, and we'll continue to do our job. If the load ever lightens it would be wonderful, but this is what we train for. We train to be of service, and we've learned to work with nothing. Certainly the School of T'ai Chi Chuan has woven whole cloth from nothing; we've had to scrape and scratch for everything. I'm totally appreciative of the many, many people who have contributed to forming and maintaining the School.

I would like to say here how proud I am of the senior students and teachers who came through with a team that was able to run the school when I was very sick recently, and who are still running the school. There are people who thought that if anything happened to me that would be the end of the School of T'ai Chi Chuan, but all this time I've been working to replace myself so that teams and a method across the school could continue the work, so that if in another reincarnation I came back I would be able to regain my mastery again by studying here. Now I have absolute faith that this is possible.

The full interview interview is contained in Vol.1 No.1 and Vol.1 No.2 of the T'ai Chi Press.