"Seek common ground while accepting differences"

求同存异 Pinyin: (qiú tóng cún yì)

 

In the practice of Taijiquan and Qigong, this timeless idiom reminds us that while forms may vary, the principles endure. Respecting diversity in posture and approach is not a sign of weakness, but of wisdom.

Form and Function: Why Postures Vary

In the age of social media, it's common to see photos or videos of Taijiquan or Qigong instructors and students accompanied by streams of commentary. "That's not how I was taught", "stiff shoulders", "not sinking her qi", etc.

This tendency to scrutinize external form without reference to internal intent can confuse students, especially those new to the tradition. At worst, it leads to dogmatism—a belief that there's only one correct way to perform a posture, and that variations reflect error rather than adaptation. But anyone who has studied Taijiquan or Qigong in depth knows that even within a single family style, there can be great variation among teachers... and even in the same teacher at different stages of life.

Different Bodies, Same Principles:

The human body changes. Age, weight, flexibility, injury, and constitution all influence posture. A 25-year-old athlete will naturally express song (relaxation and release) differently than a 70-year-old  teacher with decades of internal training. And they should. The goal of practice is not to force everyone into the same shape, but to help each person find alignment, root, and internal connection within their own body.

This is especially true for static postures like zhàn zhuāng, which are about discovering rather than displaying. The person whose posture is being dissected online may be demonstrating how to settle the dāntián, or how to allow the weight to sink through the feet (rooting)—all of which may require subtle shifts that don't look "perfect" to the casual observer. But it is the internal experience, not the appearance, that matters.

Appearance Can Be Deceiving

It's worth remembering that the classic texts speak more of principles than of fixed shapes. Words like song, xu ling ding jin (empty, lively, and upright), or yi dao, qi dao (where the intention goes, qi follows) point to inner processes. Two masters might look quite different in the same posture, yet both express these principles authentically.

Even within well-established lineages, we can observe variation. Some Yang-style masters lean slightly forward in their bow stance; others keep the spine more upright. In Chen-style, one teacher may favor a lower stance while another emphasizes fluid transitions. These are not contradictions, but reflections of personal embodiment, different stages of practice, or teaching priorities.

Standardization vs. Expression

Modern competition forms have introduced stricter external guidelines. Athletes are judged by visible criteria: angles, stance depth, hand positions. These forms demand precision and consistency, which has value, especially for training coordination and aesthetics. But even here, judges recognize that no two bodies are the same. A competitor may lose points for misaligned limbs, but not if the posture reflects structural correctness and intent.

More importantly, competition forms are only one facet of the larger art. Their purpose is not to replace traditional practice, but to showcase it within a limited frame. In personal training and internal cultivation, the goal remains: to harmonize body, breath, and mind, not to pass visual inspection.

Teaching Beyond the Frame

As teachers, we face an ongoing challenge: how to pass on traditional forms without turning them into frozen shapes. While clear structural guidelines are essential—especially for beginners—they should serve as frameworks, not cages. A student who understands root, alignment, and intention will naturally grow into more authentic expression of the form over time. Conversely, a student who mimics shapes without understanding will never go beyond the surface.

We can, and should, help students understand why a master might appear to "break the rules." Perhaps his knees are more bent to emphasize sinking. Perhaps her hand is slightly higher to match her shoulder anatomy. The question is always: what principle is being expressed? And is it working for that person?

The Goal

Taijiquan and Qigong are living arts. They do not thrive by imitation alone, but by internalization. We must resist the urge to judge based on snapshots, and instead learn to ask deeper questions: What was the teacher trying to convey? What does it feel like from the inside? Does the form support the principle?

As another old saying goes, 外不同，内相同: "Though the outside differs, the inside is the same." If we remember that, we may learn to see more clearly... not just with our eyes, but with our understanding.

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Qi Journal 2025