A friend asked me what Tai Chi actually is, and why anyone would practise it.

I said it was a form of meditation.

I could see the moment his attention drifted. “Meditation.” That vague word that usually signals incense, sitting still, or something unnecessary for people who are busy dealing with real life.

So instead of explaining Tai Chi, I tried to explain what the practice does for me.

Under pressure, reaction can arrive before choice. It might be something as ordinary as being singled out in a meeting. The response is already forming before there has been a chance to notice what is happening.

Tai Chi has helped me notice that moment through the body, not just through ideas. One of the first things I learnt was how closely my breath and state are linked. When I am stressed, my breath tends to climb into my chest. It becomes shallow and tight. When I notice it and soften, I often find more room to respond.

For me, that is the useful part of a moving meditation. I can practise noticing my state while life is happening, rather than only understanding it afterwards.

The simplest practice is also the most revealing. Notice where the breath is. Soften the knees and let the shoulders drop, like a rag doll. Nothing dramatic. Just a chance to notice what changes.

What matters to me is becoming aware early enough to choose.

Originally published on 16 January 2026. Read on jamesgodwin.me.