Moving meditation . . .
About twenty five years ago, and with baby son in stroller, my father and I were walking around the local shops in Melbourne when we came across an ad for Tai Chi classes. My Father was always a Sino-phile, absorbed with Asian culture, learning to speak and write Mandarin himself and Careers and Appointments Officer at my former tertiary establishment, where he and my mother took many overseas students from Asia under their wing. Dad said, ‘You should do that course.’