
Benjamin Manns
Put me to the plough and I’ll be more contented there than doing any form of “blowing off steam” you could think of. To me, steam is potential energy, that’s motion in the direction I want to head.
I think "toil" is the best word for it. It gets across that it really is the monotonous, boring, repetitious grinding that gets the job done. But I don’t find it dull at all. I like progress. I like to see change accumulating. I like the peace and quiet and solitude, just working on my craft day in, day out.



Raw discipline is becoming increasingly important to me these days. Without discipline, you can’t do anything. You would just follow whims and desires in an endless cycle of short term pleasure to short term pleasure.
I often tell people that I was one of the least disciplined people I’ve ever met when I started in these arts. I’ve been through every cycle of laziness and guilt and frustration. And whenever I tell people that, I’m mostly met with disbelief, but I’ve had to work for every ounce of discipline I’ve developed along the way.
It’s becoming so clear to me that no matter how many tricks you use, however many new routines, habit trackers, trendy biohacking methods or whatever other guff and veiled distractions people come up with, the simple fact is that you just need to buckle down, focus, and work until the task is done. No excuses, no caveats, no subtle self manipulations.

Taijiquan was the art I started with. I was 16 at the time, and initially got into the art to appease my mother, who repeatedly prodded me to come along to classes at the centre near where we lived. I became pretty absorbed, though the stuff we were doing at the time would be considered quite basic compared to the Taijiquan I currently study.
I liked the community, and there was something alluring about the way people would hint at the depths and profound insights that could be uncovered through years of diligent study. It got my foot in the door, and served as a bridge to where I am today. I am grateful to it for that and to my mother for nudging me into it.
It was only after a period of dedicated focus upon the process of Song, through the vehicle of Taijiquan, that I felt I developed enough mental relaxation and ease with life to be ready to go deeper into the rest of the arts.

People who know me best know that it’s not that I don’t like to have fun, or to laugh, or be an absolute manic nutcase to inject a bit of humour into the daily grind.
But ultimately, I find my deepest satisfaction in the quiet progress of dedicated work.



