Are yoga and Tai Chi similar? Why

The answer is yes. The similarities between the two in the core exercise logic are actually far greater than the differences in external form. I have practiced Ashtanga yoga for three years, and followed the Chen-style Tai Chi master in my community for two years. The most intuitive resonance is in the logic of exerting force - when I practiced downward dog pose earlier, the yoga teacher always said, "The force starts from the heels and extends along the spine." "Extend to the fingertips". Later, when I learned Yunshou, the Tai Chi master opened his mouth and said, "The root is in the feet, originates in the legs, dominates the waist, and the shape is in the fingers." You may say it's a coincidence or not, but the core is exactly the same thing. They all pay attention to the integrity of the force, and it is by no means relying on local muscles to hold it back.

The coordination of breathing is even more similar. When practicing Ujjayi breathing in yoga, movements and breathing are required to be at the same frequency. Twelve sets of sun salutations correspond to twelve complete exhalations and inhalations. Half a beat too fast and half a beat too slow can easily mess up the breath. Not to mention Tai Chi, getting up. Inhale and exhale, even the details of turning the wrists must correspond to the nodes of the upper breath. When I first learned Tai Chi, I always forgot to remember the movements and forgot to regulate my breathing. After completing a set of 24 poses, I was out of breath and coughing. It was exactly the same as when I first practiced yoga in the early years and struggled to do the splits until my face turned red.

Of course, there are many practitioners who feel that the two are not connected at all, and there is indeed a basis for this: Yoga originated from the religious practice system of ancient India. Many early postures and meditation logic are bound to the pursuit of practice. Tai Chi is essentially a branch of China's native martial arts. The earliest creation was for martial arts and self-defense. The cultural roots and origin goals of the two are indeed two completely different paths. The singing of yoga and the pushing hands of Tai Chi cannot be lumped into one category.

But if you put aside the differences in origin and fall into the daily practice of ordinary enthusiasts, the common feelings are really hidden in every detail. Neither of them pursues "breaking through the limit". It's not like trying to hit the weight in weightlifting or brushing the PB in horse racing. Yoga teachers always say "just stay on the edge of what you can bear for three seconds." Tai Chi masters always say "Don't squat lower than others. It's right for you to stand firm and not be awkward." In essence, they guide practitioners to give up comparing with others and focus on dialogue with their own bodies. What they seek is internal and external balance, not external showoff.

Last week I took my little sister who practiced yoga with me to try a Tai Chi class. After standing on the Wuji post for ten minutes, she stared at me and told me that it felt just like the mountain pose of yoga - the feet were rooted and sinking, the top of the head seemed to be gently pulled upward by a thread, the shoulders relaxed and sank, the core quietly closed, and even the rhythm of breathing was adjusted to deep abdominal breathing unconsciously. Really, people who have actually practiced it don’t need to talk about concepts. At a certain moment of exerting force and a certain breath, they can naturally touch the common core of getting along well with the body. Originally, the ultimate goal of both sports is to make people more comfortable, so why do they have to be so clear-cut?