“Train more than you sleep.” That’s the advice that the famous Karate master, Mas Oyama, offered.
Back in my Karate days, that’s the philosophy I subscribed to. My daily training was much different than it is today.
I practiced hard. I pushed myself. I trained as much as possible. I suffered. I endured.
And then I switched to Kung Fu.
One of my kung fu teachers, Sifu Wong, was fond of saying the following: “It is better to under-practice than to over-practice.”
When I first heard him say this, I thought that he had misspoken. Surely, he meant to say that it’s better to over-practice, right? More is better! Right?
But of course, he didn’t misspeak. When it comes to arts like qigong, tai chi, and meditation, it’s important to avoid over-practicing. Here’s why:
1. Less is More
In my classes and workshops, I always emphasize the importance of quality over quantity.
An analogy often helps students to understand. Sitting cross-legged on the floor with your eyes closed for 2 hours doesn’t mean that you’re meditating. If you’re in pain, stressed out, or thinking about lunch, then you’re not meditating, and you won’t get any of the benefits of meditation. You will, however, waste two hours of your time.
On the other hand, if you practice for 10-15 minutes, but successfully relax your body and calm your mind, then you’re meditating well! Your results will be dramatically better than the first example because you focused on quality rather than quantity.
If you over-practice, then you are focusing on quantity. But quantity doesn’t get you the results you’re looking for; quality does. Switch to a quality-driven approach, and you’ll see a huge improvement in your results. You’ll also save a ton of time.
2. Chores are a Bore
Practicing tai chi, qigong, and meditation should not be a chore. It should be a daily joy. Today, whenever I practice, I enjoy myself. I never push, and it never feels like a chore.
In my Karate days, I thought that practicing was supposed to feel like work. It never occurred to me that I was supposed to enjoy myself! I thought I was supposed endure. And that’s exactly what I did.
One of the biggest secrets that I teach in my classes is how to simply enjoy the experience of practicing. With these arts, the more you enjoy yourself, the better your results. So stop torturing yourself, enjoy your practice, and enjoy better results too!
3. Burnout is Bad
As a teacher, one of my goals is to turn fresh beginners into lifelong practitioners. I don’t want students to practice for just a few months or even just a few years; I want them to practice for decades.
But when I succeed in getting students past the critical 3-year mark, there’s another problem to watch out for: burnout.
Burnout is a serious issue. It happens to students, instructors, and even masters. After years of practicing, they get bored, lose motivation, and sometimes stop practicing altogether.
The trick to avoiding burnout is to save your enthusiasm. I tell my students that they should finish each session wanting to do a little more. Save some enthusiasm for tomorrow’s practice session. Don’t throw all of your firewood onto the fire at once. Always keep some saved, and always keep an ember burning. That way, the fire of your practice will last a long, long time.
4. Energy Overload Syndrome (EOS)
If you’ve participated in one of my workshops, then you know that we take lots of breaks to answer questions and have interesting discussions.
Why? In addition to it being super important to ask questions, we also can’t do qigong for hours — at least not the powerful stuff that I teach.
Believe it or not, there’s such thing as TOO much energy. If you practice these arts correctly, then you can tap a lot of energy in a short period of time.
If you over-practice, then you’ll tap more energy than your body can handle. I call this Energy Overload Syndrome (EOS).
Interestingly, the most common sign of EOS is fatigue. This happens not because the body lacks energy, but because it has too much. Your body is intelligent and it can recognize when it is overloaded. The body’s natural response is to make you tired so that you will go to sleep. While asleep, the body will adjust your energy levels back to normal.
The occasional EOS is no big deal. It happens to the best of us. But it shouldn’t be a regular part of your practice.
5. Slow And Steady Wins the Race
Even after 20+ years in these arts, I’m still in love with them, and I still practice every day. In another 20 years, I’m confident that I’ll say the same thing. Why? Because I pace myself.
If you go too fast, if you don’t pace yourself, then you won’t last. I’ve seen it countless times — a promising student who is enthusiastic but makes the mistake of over-practicing, and then drops out a few months later.
This is a wonderful journey that we are on with these arts. Slow down, pace yourself, and enjoy the journey!
6. No Pain, No Gain, Insane!
The “no pain, no gain” philosophy runs deeply through Western society. We are conditioned to think that this is the only way to train. Heck, it’s even the way that we’re supposed to work!
With arts like qigong and tai chi, the “no pain,no gain” philosophy is a mistake. It is the polar opposite of what we want.
In my beginner classes, I am constantly telling students that it’s more important to make the exercises comfortable than to make them correct.
If you are in pain, if you are torturing yourself, then it is absolutely impossible for you to enter into a meditative state of mind. And if you aren’t in a meditative state of mind, then you aren’t cultivating energy, period.
It takes time to transition to this new philosophy of softness. Even students who have been with me for a while still make this mistake. They know better, of course, but “no pain, no gain” is a deeply rooted habit. It takes time to undo this habit, but it must be done.
7. Injuries Suck
In my Karate days, I had a ton of injuries — two broken noses, a few cracked ribs, two scratched corneas, broken toes, and countless sprains, strains, and bruises.
It was common for us to nurse an injury for at least a few weeks every year. Even more common was for the senior practitioners and teachers in their 50’s and 60’s to have some sort of chronic injury, like a bad knee.
If you lose 4 weeks of practice every year to injuries, are you really saving time? If you had intentionally taken 28 days off throughout the year, maybe you wouldn’t have gotten injured in the first place. The body is intelligent. If you don’t allow it to rest, sooner or later it will force you to do so.
I practice these arts to heal myself, not harm myself. I want to get better over time, not worse!
Do you over practice, or under practice? Do you struggle with the “no pain, no gain” attitude? Have you experienced EOS?
Let me know in the comments below! From the heart, Sifu Anthony
Thanks for this article. I quit practicing several times in large part because of #3, “Burnout is Bad”.
Thankfully, I got back into my practice consistently for the last 5 months. However, during that time I’ve had to contend with #2 “Chores are a Bore” and #4 “Energy Overload Syndrome”.
It’s nice to see that others go through the same thing as me. I really picked up on that in your class last weekend. Before that weekend, I looked at the clock during my practice wanting it to be over (it was a chore). This past week, I’ve delighted in 15-20 minute sessions.
The best thing I got from you was your mantra:
Let go of your thoughts …
let go of your worries …
… just enjoy.
It’s wonderful!!! 🙂
Great advice. Thanks for sharing and reminding us of this sound principle.
(And this comes from a former Marine and entrepreneur, who suffered a divorce and near bankruptcy. I used to even have written on my dry-erase board behind me the words: “Relentless persistence.” I was so eager to be successful, but no one can go all out without paying the price long term.)
Thanks for the inspiration to stay with it – and to take it easy!
I feel incredible benefit from my short Qi Gong sessions – but even so, my mind will sometimes insist that I should do more, more, more! Thank you for the perfect reply to my busy, bully mind!
Being a new student, I wanted to learn it all overnight and to see results instantly. Listening to Sifu, I began to see the joy of patience, and I think that will go a long way in avoiding burn out. To learn slowly and know there is some secret you have yet to discover keeps the interest level high and makes the discovery that much sweeter.
There is much truth in this. My only reservation is that it sounds as if you were part of a negative karate culture. I practice wado ryu and although I recognise the formality of the world you describe I never feel I am over training, nor is training ever a chore. I can’t wait to get into the dojo because that is when I’m free of all the things that trouble me in the rest of life and I can concentrate on being calm and relaxed but also fast and precise. And while that is hard to achieve, the effort to get there is never painful. Or rather, it’s only painful in the same way that meditation can be until you realise that you can let go. In fact, it was Zen meditation that brought me back to karate after years of absence, and the two things seem to complement each other perfectly. Maybe I was just lucky in finding the right dojo and the right sensei. In Gassho, Nick
Thanks Sifu! I’ll try to keep this mind. I do have the tendency to think more is better. Going for “more” is the opposite of relaxing into softness. “More” is about the future, “softness” is in the present moment, ever-present fulfillment. I wish we had been taught these principles as kids. Now it’s about cultivating a new way of being, as the default programs are dysfunctional.