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Of all the Chinese internal martial arts, it’s Baguazhang that relates most closely to Chinese Medicine. But how and why does a (relatively) modern martial art find itself so entwined with Chinese Medicine and Daoist philosophy?

There are a number of parallels that I’m going to explore, but first, it might be helpful to think about just what an internal martial art is.

There are a few, including Water Boxing and White Ape, but the most well-known are Taijiquan, Xingyiquan and Baguazhang. Xingyi is trained mostly as a pure martial art; Taijiquan, while practised by a small number of people as a combat art, is mostly associated with health and well-being these days – which is a shame because there’s been an unfortunate resultant dilution there and much has been lost. There are still some good teachers around who understand Tai Chi fully, but sadly they’re few and far between.

Baguazhang lies somewhere in between Xingyi and Tai Chi. The Hou Tien linear forms explicitly codify its combat applications, but these are relatively more hidden in the Xian Tien circular forms. Circle walking has a meditative aspect to it that’s comparable to the slow forms of Tai Chi, except that it’s generally practised at a faster pace.

Theories abound about the roots of Baguazhang. The accepted legend is that Dong Hai Chuan learnt it from a Daoist sage, thus insinuating that it has a firm grounding in Daoist theory and lending it an air of ancient tradition.

But it’s actually very recent, relatively speaking – the youngest of the three main internal arts. Dong Hai Chuan lived in the nineteenth century. But people like to think things have deeper roots, and so you’ll find theories relating Bagua to Chinese ritual plays, Hindu shamanic dances, eight-armed Tibetan incarnations of Tara, and even the Egyptian creation myth.

There is something very ritualistic about circle walking, though. Something about walking round in a circle speaks of tribalism and trance.

So what is internal? Commonalities to the internal arts include a certain way of aligning and connecting the body, releasing power through the connective tissues, and keeping the bones stacked up in line with gravity. There is a sense of containment, and a body method that develops lines of communication so no part of the body is ever disconnected or overcommitted.

Internal arts emphasise smooth, soft movements and relaxation, coordinating the whole body to generate maximum and efficient power, never using more energy than necessary. Like many other martial arts they rely on exploiting an opponent’s weaknesses and using their own force against them, or neutralising attacks, but there is a preference for suppleness and litheness over strength and brute force-against-force.

This characteristic of softness and flexibility is reminiscent of the Dao De Jing, where it speaks of being rigid and brittle as the way of death, and being soft and supple as the way of life.

Of course, there are huge distinctions separating the internal arts, too. Xingyi is very direct and hard by comparison. The movements are relaxed still, but like Wing Chun there is a whiplike quality makes the strikes very powerful. It has a philosophy of hit fast and hit hard, and doesn’t worry too much about defence or what the opponent is doing. There’s a relentlessness to it; an indefatigable quality of “push through no matter what”.

Where Xingyi is hard and straight, Taijiquan is rounded and giving. Many techniques rely on accepting force and returning it, of absorbing and rebounding. There is an inflated quality to the body, organised around the Lower Dan Tian region of the lower abdomen. Stepping is grounded, as the heels root first, and there’s a strong emphasis on close quarter grappling as exemplified by push hands practice.

And Baguazhang? Bagua uses fluid, fast movement, twisting the upper body like rope and using spiralling attacks and light, circling steps that are designed to find angles and ways in through an opponent’s defences. The sure but agile “mud-wading” steps grasp the floor and the quick, unexpected changes of direction allow the practitioner to attack the flanks and take or destabilise the opponent’s centre.

Bagua’s techniques are varied and comprehensive: chokes and joint locks, throws and leg sweeps, a few kicks and stomps, and, particularly in Gao style, which steals a little from Xingyi, fist strikes, too.

But there’s a whole lot more to Bagua. It has strong links to Qi Gong, especially to Dao Yin, which are forceful exercises to lead and guide the Qi. As I’ve already alluded to, there are meditative elements to circle walking that encourage a non-discriminatory multi-directional awareness, and a calm, quiet clarity of mind that facilitates a clear perception of the situation.

Bagua has its own set of fundamental exercises (Ji Ben) and exercises for building the movement patterns and physical coordination (Nei Gong), and it can easily be incorporated into life nourishing (Yang Sheng) practices that seek to prevent illness (just as Chinese Medicine does) through good diet and eating habits, sleeping patterns, sufficient rest and exercise, and methods to regulate the mind and emotions.

Circle walking itself mirrors the ever-changing flow between Yin and Yang, seeking to balance Yin and Yang within the body through smooth palm changes, fluid turning and twisting movements, and combinations of hard and soft techniques.

Its eight mother palms, or frames, of Xian Tien (circle walking) practice correspond to the eight trigrams (the Ba Gua) of the Yi Jing (I Ching), which is the most ancient of the Chinese classics. The Hou Tien (linear forms) number 64 and relate to the 64 hexagrams (that are derived from combining two trigrams), which are used for divination.

The trigrams are fundamental to Daoist philosophy and so play an important role in both Baguazhang and Chinese Medicine. On the macrocosmic scale their three lines represent Earth, Humans and Heaven respectively.

Within the human body they represent Jing (essence), Qi and Shen (spirit), growing more refined as we move from Earth to Heaven. Made up of solid Yang lines and broken Yin lines, they combine to explain the one overarching constant of life: the process of change.

The eight trigrams can be arranged in two ways: the Pre-Heaven (Xian Tien) and Post-Heaven (Hou Tien) arrangements. In medicine, our Post-Heaven state is our postnatal being, necessarily sullied by impure air, foods and disturbances of the mind.

Yang Sheng practices look to restore us to our prenatal state of health and purity. And Baguazhang itself places importance on its health-giving benefits as much as it’s martial elements. By practising Baguazhang we can experientially understand the process of change within the body.

Of course, Chinese Medicine also works by balancing Yin and Yang and restoring the body and mind to a place of unity and harmony. The eight trigrams can be integrated with five phase (Wu Xing) theory or used directly in Yi Jing styles of acupuncture by imaging the Ba Gua on to the body and balancing the trigrams.

This can be done contralaterally, which relates well to Baguazhang as many of its techniques, as well as its fundamental Hou Tien posture of San Ti Shi (three-body standing post), are contralateral too. Why? Because that is our natural walking gait, and it makes sense to move in natural ways as they have evolved over millennia to be the most efficient.

Baguazhang and Chinese Medicine share another common thread in their emphasis on the Yi. Yi is basically our intention, our precognitive awareness and understanding of a situation arrived at through a combination of practised skill, learning and intuition.

In the internal arts we talk about the six harmonies. Three are external: coordinating hand and foot, elbow and knee, and shoulder and hip. The other three are internal: mind-intent (Xin-Yi), intent-energy (Yi-Qi), and energy-power (Qi-Li). A clear intent leads our moving energy in martial arts, just as a clear intent guides the needle and exchange of energies in acupuncture.

Both the practitioner and, to some degree at least, the patient, need an intention directed clearly towards healing, being tuned into the needles and to their own internal landscape. The acupuncturist gives clear somatic instructions, and the patient’s body listens and receives those directives.

Yi is more than just impulse or intuition. It’s a holistic grasp of the reality at hand, undistorted by the emotions and lending awareness equally to subject, object and environment.

How do we purify the Yi, then? Through meditation. Through practising virtue. Perhaps even self-hypnosis or visualisation. Think of an athlete preparing for a race, systematically enacting their idiosyncratic rituals to clear their minds and focus on the task at hand. Entering a state of readiness.

Perhaps it’s fair to say that the Yi has a different quality, or at least carries more or less weight, in different disciplines. In Xingyiquan, Yi is literally central. In meditation, I would argue it’s less so. Whereas attention must be full and undistracted, intention is likely to raise the body’s energy and stir the mind, preventing it from absorbing into the body and sinking and settling into stillness. But some intent is still needed – some gentle nudge to simply sit.

But is this intention conscious? Or does it arise before conscious thought? Does thought simply justify, in hindsight, the movement from intention to action? Again, I suspect it depends on the discipline. A highly trained and experienced physician might be able to operate successfully on the level of instincts and intuition, although it’s crucial to recall that this innate seeing has been arrived at through decades of study and dedication. Most cannot operate at this level, and must employ various conscious models to reach a satisfactory conclusion about what is appropriate for the individual patient.

As an aside, I think it’s interesting that Chinese Medicine works using several models that readily coexist; sometimes supporting one another, and sometimes contradicting. Yin Yang theory, Five Phase theory, Eight Principles, Nine Palaces (used in pulse-taking), Ten Celestial Stems, Twelve Earthly Branches…

It’s only Western science that insists so irrationally upon finding The One Theory of Everything. Life is messy. What makes us so sure one theory can ever describe everything? Chinese Medicine’s organic, flexible approach of using whatever models fit the scenario best seems to me to be not so much inconsistent as aligned with the reality of Nature.

Returning to Yi, then – it describes our inherent ability to harmonise with a situation. An impetus of the heart to engage fully and properly with reality. It is our Earth aspect; the spiritual manifestation of a healthily functioning Spleen system. It leads to efficiency and efficacy. There’s a proverb from the Tai Chi Classics that, to paraphrase, says: when your opponent moves, you are already there. This, to my mind, is a description of a well-developed Yi – so tuned, refined and present that a changing situation can be grasped completely and instantaneously. As one of my TCM tutors succinctly put it, Yi is “the thought before the thought”.

So both Chinese Medicine and Baguazhang require a degree of stillness, openness and relaxation such that a clear and strong Yi can manifest. Meditation and Qi Gong practices can facilitate this peaceful state of being, and, in the case of Bagua, it is incorporated directly into the practice.

Circle walking is Qi Gong, from one perspective. And, like meditation, Qi Gong brings us out of our all-too-habitual fight or flight mode and engages our parasympathetic nervous system. In this mode of relaxation, everything flows smoothly and appropriately. Our organs and our whole being benefit because everything becomes tempered and functions optimally.

The reverse abdominal breathing technique common to both internal martial arts and Daoist meditation brings the breath deeper into the body and improves lung function, as well as having a tranquillising effect on the mind. It increases blood flow to the brain and heart, aids digestion and peristalsis, lowers blood pressure, and increases stamina, lung capacity and lung health. And it calms and soothes the frayed nerves of modern living. How many people carry around their stress in their shoulders and necks, and breathe with only the tops of their lungs?

I stated above that Yi can be trained by practising virtue (De). What I really meant by that is that virtuous conduct creates the conditions for a calm and healthy state of being. By living truthfully and uprightly we strengthen our immune and nervous systems, ameliorate our cognitive functions and reduce excessive stress, tension, anxiety and depression. (I say excessive stress because some small amount of stress is beneficial – a life without any pressure would soon become dull and fruitless.)

Wu Shu (the Chinese term for martial arts) literally means “stop fighting”. Japanese martial arts in particular place great importance on the cultivation of virtue in the fighter – we’ve all seen The Karate Kid! Aikido’s whole philosophy is based around non-violence. And in The Art of War, SunZi describes subduing the enemy without fighting as “the supreme excellence”. Fighting is ugly and should be avoided at all costs. There’s a parallel with Chinese Medicine here, too. We don’t isolate and directly combat pathogens, but seek rather to restore harmony.

The Yang Sheng approach is one of moderation. Good health lies at the state of equilibrium. We must move from balance all the time, of course, as exemplified by the never ending exchange of Yin and Yang, but we should always seek to return to it. Lu Buwei advocated moderate exercise, without over-straining, and the walking practice of Baguazhang fits this attitude perfectly. Its long, deep postures and constant movement are challenging and make for a comprehensive exercise, but they don’t push the body beyond what is healthy and comfortable. They don’t exhaust us and leave us depleted.

Walking itself has been shown to carry all kinds of benefits (most of which we intuitively know). Here are some: it benefits our mood, longevity, cardiovascular health, strength, mobility, flexibility, balance, fascial health, memory, immunity, sleep quality, bone density, overall life quality, emotional health and our tendency towards healthy choices. Walking is detoxifying, encourages enzyme and hormone production, lowers our risk of cancer, and helps with hypertension, cholesterol and cortisol levels, fatigue, pain, reliance on medication…

You get the idea!

Moreover, when we practice Baguazhang we’re not plugged into music or podcasts like we are at the gym. Our awareness is directed both outwards and inwards.

The various palms of Bagua have specific effects within the body, such as Downward Pressing Palm, which helps to open the Ren, Du and Chong Mai. Why do we want these channels open? Because blockages lead to ill-health, and open channels mean freely circulating Qi, strong, healthy organs and a body that has good internal communication between its parts. Openness leads to wholeness.

Certain palms can even be emphasised to help rectify particular imbalances. So Uphold the Heavens, for example, being linked to Yang Ming (Yang Brightness) and the Stomach and Large Intestine channels, can aid with digestive disorders. Here again, we see a fundamental link between Baguazhang and Chinese Medicine.

So Bagua is more than just a martial art. It is a health practice too, that blends seamlessly with Yang Sheng methods. It integrates Yin Yang theory and the wisdom of the Yi Jing. It gives us a deep understanding of change. It trains the Yi and calms the spirit. It unites body and mind. It trains our breathing, exercises the body, helps to engender a virtuous mindset, and goes deep inside to open up and mobilise the whole body from within. It is an internal art.

All that from going round in circles! Well, it figures, I guess. After all, “walking is man’s best medicine” (Hippocrates).