In the practices of Shaolin and qigong, there is a fundamental practice called Zhan Zhuang, or “standing like a tree.” It is exactly what it sounds like: the practice of standing with two feet on the ground, hands down by your sides, solid and grounded like a tree.
There are some suggestions, like gently bending the knees—not too much, so that it doesn’t stress or fatigue the legs—tucking the tailbone slightly under, and having the hands hang down along your sides with the palms facing your body. The arms are also just loose enough that it feels like you are holding a ping-pong ball under your armpits. Lastly, you keep the spine tall and relaxed, with the tongue on the roof of the mouth, which is a fairly common practice in qigong.
In Shi Heng Yi’s book Shaolin Spirit, he describes three important points to this practice:
Observe and correct your structure at all times.
Be mindful not to let any tension build up unconsciously.
Notice and observe all impulses in your mind and body.
The actual physical practice of Zhan Zhuang is not very strenuous. All you are doing is essentially standing. However, the meditative aspect of Zhan Zhuang was something that I found to be incredibly insightful and practical, particularly the aspect of trying to keep tension from building up in the body.
In the practice, it is suggested that you start from the top of your head and make your way down the body, consciously trying to release any tension that you might feel. Seems easy enough, right?
As I started to make my way down the body, I was amazed at how many areas were unconsciously holding tension. Starting with my jaw—not a whole lot, and not quite to the point of clenching, but just enough that my teeth were touching and engaging unnecessarily.
Then there were my shoulders and neck, often problem areas and spots where I know I hold my stress. This was not surprising, but trying to let go of the tension was not as easy as I had assumed. Each time I came back to it, the tension would creep back in, and I would have to remind myself to let go and relax.
My arms, even though they were just dangling along the sides of my torso, felt tight in my forearms and parts of my triceps. Again, let it go.
What surprised me the most was the tension I noticed in my pelvic floor. Why on earth do I need to hold tension there? But there it was, gently gripping and holding tension when it absolutely didn’t need to.
The rest of the body seemed okay, but it was a very insightful meditation practice. I became more aware of the various areas of tension and practiced noticing them and trying to let them go.
Within just a few days of this practice, I started to become aware of my posture and the tension throughout the day. In the past, when I was doing the dishes, it was somewhat mindless—just a chore where I tried to get it done as soon as possible. And there it was: tension in the way I was standing, the way I was hunched over the sink.
As soon as I noticed, I would readjust and set up a more stable stance with my legs, placing them hip-width apart. I would lift my torso so that I was less hunched and more upright, easing the stress and weight of my head and body off my back and neck. I dropped my shoulders and breathed fully.
I started to notice this when I was meal-prepping and cutting vegetables or standing over the stove sautéing. I spend a lot of time in the kitchen, which brings me to another unexpected benefit of this practice.
I applied this sense of tension to how I felt when I was hungry, frustrated, or tired. I began to notice the changes in my body as certain impulses would arise.
I would like to point out here that tension in itself is not a bad thing. One needs tension in order to get many things done. It gives us a sense of motivation, drive, and passion.
When I think of physical tension, I think in terms of a slackline. If there isn’t enough tension—or any tension at all—you wouldn’t be able to get across from one side to the other. However, with too much tension, the line would break.
So, Zhan Zhuang has taught me more about my mind, feelings, and refinement of awareness in a few days than other practices, like breathwork or meditation, have been able to. It’s possible that those other practices set up the right conditions so that when I came to the practice of Zhan Zhuang, I was ready to receive its wisdom.
Either way, I invite you to give it a try and see for yourself how it influences your awareness and connection to yourself.