Tai Chi practitioner

What I learned from Tai Chi walking

By Kimine Mayuzumi

In the Tai Chi class that I lead regularly, we always begin with a walking exercise — what I call Tai Chi walking. We walk slowly — probably slower than you might imagine. It feels almost like moving in slow motion.

I learn so much from this experience, and I invite you to try this kind of slow, mindful walking one day. I’ve attached a video clip so you can get a sense of what it looks like. (It hasn’t been edited — the speed you see is the actual pace.)

Entering Tai Chi walking

When the movement becomes this slow, something shifts. 

Different effects arise compared to when I walk at a normal pace. My mind begins to pay attention to the many tangible sensations moving through my body. In everyday walking, the pace carries me forward almost automatically — one foot in front of the other — without requiring much awareness. But in Tai Chi walking, I become deeply attentive to the mechanics of each step.

First, I bring my feet forward, one at a time, with care. My knees remain loose and slightly bent. I step out, gently placing my heel on the ground, and then slowly roll through the foot. As I push off from the back leg, my weight transfers to the front. Staying aware of my center of gravity, I find an effortless sense of balance. In these moments, I feel a deep connection between my body and the ground beneath me. It is humbling.

My breath begins to move naturally alongside the rhythm of Tai Chi walking. I inhale and exhale deeply, allowing the breath to synchronize with each step. The breath becomes a kind of conductor, guiding my body and supporting the flow of qi within me. It also sets the pace — steady, calm, and unforced. When my mind starts to drift, the breath becomes an anchor I can return to, gently bringing me back to the movement.

As I walk, I scan my body from head to toe. I imagine an intangible energy gently lifting the crown of my head upward, allowing the rest of my body to soften. My neck, shoulders, chest, and back relax. 

At times, I add hand movements: as I inhale, my arms open outward, palms turning slightly upward; as I exhale, my hands return to the center, the back leg presses forward, and my whole body softens into yurumi — a state of release and ease. I notice the subtle sensations of my fingers, the opening and closing of my chest, the constant interplay of yin and yang.

These are some of the most mindful moments in my life. This practice is not about strength or speed — it is about awareness. It is not about reaching a destination — it is about being fully present in the process of Tai Chi walking.

Oftentimes, I feel myself fully inhabiting the present moment. Emotions, judgments, and self-conscious thoughts recede into the background. The boundary between my subjectivity and objectivity begins to blur. At least, this is what I experience (or aspire to experience) in these moments.

A passage from Way of the Peaceful Warrior by Dan Millman (2006) resonates deeply with me:

“Meditating an action is different from doing it. To do, there is a doer, a self-conscious ‘someone’ performing. But when you meditate an action, you’ve already released attachment to outcomes. There’s no ‘you’ left to do it. In forgetting yourself, you become what you do, so your action is free, spontaneous, without ambition, inhibition, or fear.” (p. 151)

In my Tai Chi walking, I experience glimpses of this. Rather than “doing” the walking, I find myself “meditating the action.” In those moments, I am less of a doer and more of a participant — someone who yields to the space and movement. There is a sense of freedom from ambition and fear.

Of course, I am not always in this state. My mind still wanders. Thoughts arise, even during Tai Chi walking. When they do, I gently bring my attention back — to my footsteps, my breath, the movement of my hands. In doing so, I step outside, even briefly, from the many cognitive and emotional narratives that fill daily life.

Simple, yet not simple.

How about you? What is your experience with the mindfulness practices you return to?

 

Originally published on May 15, 2018, updated on April 7, 2026

Featured image by Antonika

About Kimine Mayuzumi

Dr. Kimine Mayuzumi is the co-founder of "Being Lazy and Slowing Down," a personal/professional development initiative committed to supporting higher-education professionals to enhance their wellbeing. She brings extensive research experience, particularly focusing on the challenges faced by minoritized groups in academia. Having supported hundreds of overwhelmed academics, Kimine’s approach emphasizes reclaiming inner balance and clarity without compromising productivity. Through her teachings, she guides individuals to rediscover their sense of wholeness, gain clarity on their life goals, and cultivate sustainable practices for personal and professional fulfillment. Kimine also enjoys Tai Chi and her family time with two kids and her soulmate/life partner, Riyad A. Shahjahan.