You’ve probably heard that if you stop practicing Tai Chi, you’ll lose your progress.
That’s not true.
That’s not true.
In fact, taking a break — whether it’s a few weeks or a few years — can sometimes make you a better Tai Chi player.
I know that might sound impossible. But here’s the thing: Tai Chi isn’t just about keeping your muscles in shape or memorizing a sequence. It’s about the way you experience movement, energy, and connection in the moment. And those skills don’t disappear the way we think they do — they change, and in some ways, they deepen.
What Makes Returning Exciting
There’s something uniquely powerful about coming back to a practice after stepping away.
You don’t see it with “day one” eyes anymore — you see it with the perspective of someone who’s lived a little more life.
You don’t see it with “day one” eyes anymore — you see it with the perspective of someone who’s lived a little more life.
Returning to Tai Chi often means:
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More Patience: You’re less likely to rush the process because you’ve learned that life has its own pace.
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Sharper Awareness: Time away can make you more sensitive to how your body feels, how your breathing shifts, and how your balance changes.
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Fresh Appreciation: When you miss something, you tend to notice more of its beauty when you get it back.
For many, returning is more joyful than starting. You recognize movements like old friends — familiar enough to feel safe, yet new enough to feel exciting again.
How to Make Your Return Easy
Coming back to Tai Chi, look for the fun again - you know, that spark you felt when you first learned, like when a move clicked or your balance felt effortless. Or maybe it's something new now. Fun is the key. Not form, not flow... just pure, simple joy in the movement.
'Coming back to Tai Chi, look for the fun again - you know, that spark you felt when you first learned. Don't try to do it all at once. Pick a movement you love - Brush Knee, Open the Door - and just play. Your body might be rusty, but it remembers more than you think. Be patient with it. If it's stiff or tired, that's okay - give it time to warm up. And don't go it alone. Find a class, a friend, even an online group. Nothing beats laughing through a wobbly stance with someone who gets it. Fun's the anchor here, not perfection.
Why It’s Hard Sometimes
It's not just your body that feels stiff - your mind can be the real struggle. And sometimes, bad teaching doesn't help. Tai Chi can be overwhelming when it's taught as a puzzle to solve - all about complex forms and perfect angles. That's not how it's supposed to be. For most people, it's not the moves that scare them off; it's when they stop feeling the joy in them. We make it hard when we focus on difficulty instead of discovery.
A Story From My Own Journey
In 1995, I lost my spot on the US team for the World Championships to cheating competitors. I got depressed, stopped practicing Tai Chi - seven days a week, multiple times a day, gone. Months turned to years. Ten years later, I was sitting in my garden, missing it, grieving like I'd lost a part of myself. I started crying, right there in the grass, and suddenly I stood up and tried a form. My body... it was gone. No muscle memory, no flow. Nothing. But I wanted it back. I found a new teacher, but this time, I wasn't chasing perfection like before. I'd competed for years, obsessing over looking good on the outside. Now, I wanted to feel it inside - that love I'd had at the beginning, when I was terrible at Tai Chi but utterly infatuated with it, like a giddy teenager with a crush. That search for fun, for joy, changed everything. It's where Tai Chi Fit began. Coming back was like coming home, but better - deeper, truer. Maybe I needed that break. I don't know. But I know it brought me back to what mattered most. If I can find my way back, so can you. Let's rediscover Tai Chi together.
Overcoming the “Too Late” Myth
We live in a culture that tells us time is running out — that if you don’t make your mark by a certain age, your chance is gone. I don’t buy that.
In Tai Chi, every breath is a chance to begin again. The form doesn’t care how old you are, how long you’ve been away, or how many times you’ve “started over.” What matters is that you’re here now, moving, breathing, and connecting.
I’ve seen people in their 70s, 80s, even 90s come back to Tai Chi after decades away — and find new energy, sharper balance, and a deeper sense of peace than they ever had before.
Closing Thought:
There’s no such thing as being late in Tai Chi. Your time isn’t behind you — it’s right here, in this moment. And the moment you step back in, you’re exactly where you’re meant to be.