Go Slow to Go Fast: The Paradox at the Heart of Wing Tsun
In Wing Tsun, there is an ever-present interplay between speed and stillness—an elegant paradox that lies at the core of Chinese philosophy. We see this dynamic in the Taoist philosophy of Yin and Yang, the contrast that shapes existence itself. If everything were fast, nothing would be fast. If everything were slow, nothing would be slow. The journey of Wing Tsun is about mastering both—learning when to be still, when to move, and most importantly, when to flow between the two.
The Illusion of Speed
One of the key lessons in Wing Tsun is that speed alone is not enough. The true art lies in the efficient use of time, which is different from simply moving faster. There is no advantage in rushing—just as there is no benefit in unnecessary hesitation. The aim is to act at the right time, with the right intent, in the right way.
I have always been fascinated by how to optimise learning— in particular, how can I facilitate students improving faster without cutting corners or skipping essential experiences. This is where the concept of volume and variety comes into play (more to come another time). Mastery is not simply about training harder or taking more private lessons—it’s about real-world application, adaptation, and reflection.
Recently, I had a conversation with one of my students who had just achieved First Technician Grade (equivalent to a second-degree black belt). She was highly motivated and set herself the goal of reaching Second Technician within a year—a goal that, while possible, is not simply about technical ability. I explained that while dedicated training is important, what truly develops skill is teaching, applying, and adapting. She took that advice seriously and is now abroad teaching Wing Tsun, including to a third-degree black belt in Karate. Through teaching, she has begun to truly understand her art rather than just practice it.
This is the heart of "go slow to go fast." You cannot accelerate understanding by force. You must experience, reflect, and allow the process to unfold.
Slowing Down to See More
This principle is not just theoretical—it’s deeply ingrained in the physical practice of Wing Tsun.
The very first form, Siu Nim Tao, is a perfect example. It is a form of mindfulness and meditation, structured around 108 movements, mirroring the Buddhist prayer beads. It is the foundation of Wing Tsun, yet it is performed slowly. This deliberate pace teaches practitioners to feel, understand, and connect with their movements before layering on speed.
Traditionally the from is practising a minimum of 3 times at the beginning of each class. Over the years, I have found that when I skip doing Siu Nim Tao three times at the start of a session—because I want to focus on something else—the result is clear: the body is not fully prepared, and neither is the mind. The form is not just a warm-up; it is a mental and emotional calibration.
The Illusion of Urgency
Beyond martial arts, the illusion of urgency is something we experience in daily life. Many of the worst decisions I’ve made have been when I’ve felt pressured by someone else’s deadline. Sales techniques often rely on this—creating an artificial sense of time pressure to trigger impulsive decisions. The question we should always ask is: Is this urgency real? What am I actually responding to? Fear? Anxiety? The fear of missing out? The fear of not being enough?
Siu Nim Tao teaches the opposite approach. It forces you to pause, breathe, and assess. It is a direct antidote to stress and reactive decision-making. And the irony is—when you slow down, you see more, you understand more, and you move faster when it truly matters.
The Fastest Punch Comes From Stillness
Wing Tsun is known for having one of the fastest punches in the world. The reason is not just biomechanics but mental state. Speed is not about rushing; it is about calmness and clarity.
One of the learns I had when doing the form many years ago is that when I practise the Siu Nim Tao, I can consciously slow my heart rate. This level of control is a key factor true speed—not one impulsive movement, but a continuous flow of energy. The calmer you are, the more effectively you move. The best fighters, athletes, and leaders share this trait—the ability to remain composed under pressure.
In our Kung Fu Barista project, I remember Valeria apologizing for moving "too slowly" during her test. Yet, when we checked the time, she had completed the process 89 seconds faster than before. By focusing on calm precision, she literally sped up by slowing down. This is the core of Wing Tsun. You can hear more about this in Winning Not Fighting podcast, Episode 13.
Mastering the Art of Presence
This principle extends beyond Wing Tsun into the wider realm of behavioural mastery. I recently listened to an interview with Chase Hughes, a behavioural expert, who teaches his children to move slower than those around them. Why? Because it gives them control over their motor skills and decision-making – along with a heightened sense of presence.
The people with the most impact are not those who are simply fast, but those who control time—who understand when to slow down, when to act, when to speak and when to observe.
Wing Tsun as a Life Skill
At its deepest level, Wing Tsun is not just a martial art; it is a training ground for life.
When you slow down, you see more.
When you see more, you understand more.
When you understand more, you respond more effectively.
The goal is to become the calm person in the storm, radiating stability while others panic. Stress is contagious—but so is calmness.
This all starts with the first form in Wing Tsun, aptly named “The Way of the Little Idea, the gateway to understanding stillness and speed. If you want to experience this yourself, you can train with me at our Kwoon in Bromley or explore our online course, which includes Chi Gung and meditation practices to develop these skills.
I created this course because of moments like the one I had at the Mind, Body & Spirit Festival in London, where a woman told me, in tears, that it was the first time she had ever truly felt still and present. That experience showed me the deep impact this practice has—and why it needs to be shared.
Siu Nim Tao is not just a form. It is a gateway to mastery.
If this resonates with you, perhaps it is time to explore your own stillness—and see just how fast it can take you.
In stillness,
Sifu
P.S. I’m trying a new format to see if it is helpful for you. So keep an eye out for an FAQ post to help you go deeper into the topic of Speed and Stillness.