Taiji’s Expanding & Contracting Movements

How Does the Taiji Diagram Perform Its Expansive and Contractive Movements?

People often visualize the Taiji Diagram in its unseparated state as a perfectly enclosed circle, whereas in its divided form, it manifests as an unending spiral. The closed state of Taiji can be dissected into two interwoven chains of Yin and Yang, each further subdivided by odd and even segments. Within both Yin and Yang, there exists a central “navel point” or a “cavern,” serving as the axis of rotation. At the juncture where Yin and Yang meet, they are both separable and inseparable—a paradox of duality and unity.

Modern science, too, is often depicted as a closed-loop system, where the beginning and end connect through an intermediary link. Each segment of this loop represents a different field of scientific inquiry. Taiji, as an intricate interconnection of multiple circles, forms chains and links where the forces of Yin and Yang engage in a perpetual dance of opposition and balance. Through the rising and descending movements of Yin and Yang, these chains undergo quantum leaps at their pivotal nodes.

A chain, in this context, symbolizes both progression and negation. Two intertwined chains generate the philosophical principle of “the negation of negation.” When Taiji unfolds, it gives birth to the duality of Yin and Yang. However, once separated, Taiji must inevitably fold back upon itself to maintain equilibrium between these opposing forces. After this reclosure, the “heads” of the Yin-Yang fish retract inward, while their “tails” extend outward, guiding the movement along their respective trajectories.

As Taiji continues to unfold, it generates an infinite number of smaller Taiji systems. If the division occurs around the central navel point, it produces Yin and Yang, which then evolve into the Eight Trigrams (Ba Gua). If the division is centered around key nodes, it gives rise to the Five Elements (Wu Xing). This process bears intriguing similarities to modern scientific principles such as cellular division, the laws of gravity, Coulomb’s theorem, and Faraday’s law. However, the precise relationship between these ancient and modern frameworks remains a fascinating subject for further exploration.

The Dance of the Infinite: A Taiji Tale

1. The Call to Understanding

Elliot had always been a skeptic. A PhD student in theoretical physics, he spent his days buried in equations, trying to untangle the mysteries of time and space. To him, philosophy was little more than poetic nonsense, and ancient wisdom was, at best, a relic of human superstition.

So when his eccentric grandfather left him a letter upon his passing—along with a peculiar black-and-white pendant shaped like a swirling Taiji symbol—Elliot barely gave it a second glance. That is, until the letter mentioned something unsettling.

“Elliot, you think science has all the answers. But what if I told you that Taiji—the very symbol you dismiss as folklore—contains the same fundamental truths as the equations you live by? Seek the Spiral Gate, and you may see the universe as it truly is.”

The words haunted him. He found himself staring at the pendant for days, its curves hypnotic, its pattern almost… alive. His rational mind resisted, but curiosity won out.

And so, he packed his bags and headed to the misty mountains of Wudang, where his grandfather had once trained in Taiji.

2. The Spiral Gate

The journey was grueling. By the time Elliot reached the monastery, he was exhausted, frustrated, and questioning his sanity. He had expected monks in robes, incense, maybe some esoteric chants. What he got was Master Zhao—an old man in sneakers, sipping a bubble tea.

“You don’t believe in this nonsense,” the master said, eyeing Elliot with a grin. “Yet, here you are.”

Elliot folded his arms. “I’m here because my grandfather believed there was a connection between Taiji and physics. I want to prove him wrong.”

Master Zhao chuckled. “Then let’s begin with proving yourself wrong first.”

Over the next few weeks, Elliot trained. Not just in Taiji movements but in understanding its philosophy. He learned that the swirling symbol wasn’t just about Yin and Yang—it was motion, transformation, a self-perpetuating cycle of balance and imbalance.

And this yin yang jewelry, the pendant he wore, seemed to embody that very concept. As he held it in his hand during his training, he could feel the energy of the Taiji symbol, a constant reminder of the interplay between Yin and Yang.

One evening, as they practiced by a still lake, Master Zhao tossed a pebble into the water. The ripples expanded in perfect spirals.

“Energy moves like this,” Zhao said. “Yin contracts, Yang expands. When one reaches its peak, it transforms into the other. Just like the universe, just like your equations.”

Elliot frowned. “That’s just poetic imagery.”

“Is it?” Zhao tapped his chest. “Your heart contracts and expands. Your lungs inhale and exhale. The planets orbit in spirals, galaxies swirl, atoms vibrate. The Fibonacci sequence, the golden ratio—it’s all in nature. Science just gave it numbers. Taiji knew it first.”

For the first time, Elliot felt a crack in his rigid worldview.

3. The Breakthrough

One night, Elliot lay awake, staring at the pendant. He traced the swirling lines with his fingers, recalling the master’s words. Energy moves in cycles. Balance is an illusion—what matters is the dynamic interplay.

Then it hit him.

The closed-loop theories in quantum mechanics—the paradox of wave-particle duality, the way subatomic particles “chose” their states—weren’t just mathematical abstractions. They were manifestations of Taiji. The universe wasn’t a static equation; it was a living, breathing entity, forever opening and closing, expanding and contracting.

His mind raced. If he could apply this understanding to his research, it could explain gaps in existing theories.

He sat up, grabbed his notebook, and scribbled furiously. For the first time, science didn’t feel like cold logic—it felt alive.

4. The Dance of the Infinite

At dawn, he rushed to Master Zhao, breathless. “I think I understand!” he exclaimed. “Taiji isn’t just a philosophy—it’s a universal principle. It’s why gravity pulls and electromagnetism repels. It’s why cells divide and why time seems to flow in one direction but is theoretically reversible. It’s—it’s everything!”

Master Zhao beamed. “Now, you see.”

Elliot looked at the rising sun, its light reflecting off the water in shimmering rings. “And it’s still just the beginning, isn’t it?”

Zhao nodded. “The moment you think you’ve reached the end, you find another circle. That’s Taiji. That’s the dance of the infinite.”

Elliot closed his eyes, breathing deeply. For the first time in his life, he wasn’t just understanding the universe.

He was feeling it.

And in that feeling, he found something even greater than knowledge.

He found wonder.