Breathing Spaces

Nancy N. Chen's book Breathing Spaces, qigong, psychiatry, and healing in China, was published in 2003, by Columbia University Press. Before Chen's book there was nothing available about the history of Qigong in the 20th century that would satisfy a curious 12 year old, much less a scholar.

I have at least 45 post-it notes in my book. Why do I love this book so much?

Here is a brief biography form the back cover: "Nancy N. Chen is associate professor of anthropology at the University of California, Santa Cruz. A medical anthropologist, she also teaches courses on food, ethnographic film, urban anthropology, China, and Asian Americans."

She grew up in the US studying gongfu, and like me, heard about this thing called qigong sometime in the late 80's. It turned out to be, at least partly, what we had all been practicing and referring to as martial arts warm-ups. But there where also lots of claims being attached to this new "qigong" that didn't seem to fit our experiences. There was a lot of religious feeling and parlor tricks too. There were strange and sometimes very specific claims made about healing powers associated with both the practice of doing qigong and these new "Masters" themselves.

Being a lover of history, the biographies various masters would pull out from the underside of their 'inner cauldrons,' were particularly irksome to me. Nancy N. Chen deals with all this beautifully.
So the only real question now is, why haven't you read it yet?

Measuring what Doesn't Happen

The notion of gongfu is new to the world outside of China. Within Chinese civilization gongfu is most certainly not new, but it's fair to say that there are new permutations, qigong as a distinct category being one of them.
Innumerable different methods and styles of qigong have made it into the 21st century. The rush of modernism everywhere has been quick to cast aside what seems worthless in a mad rush to discover and promote whatever will produce short term benefits. In this rush qigong has been stripped of context and pigeon-holed as just a health practice, a way to become powerful, or a mystical fantasy. Does the world need new fantasies? does it need new ways of becoming more powerful? If we take these explanations at face value there is no need to try and understand the origins or the real intent behind the creation and preservation of qigong. I think qigong deserves a closer look.

The experience of practicing qigong for a period of many years is not one of heroic accomplishment, it is more likely one of satisfying blandness.

The effects of qigong are difficult to measure by looking directly into the practice itself, there is more to notice if we look outwards. Our daily interactions with the world is the place where we are most likely to notice the impact of this increased sensitivity and ease.

If qigong is the practice of not leaving a mark on our bodies, then a possible result of working in the garden all day is that our back doesn't hurt. Absolutly worthwhile, yet in the short term it's difficult to measure something, that doesn't happen.

Yes, I know there is such a thing as an "outcome study," where we look at the incidence of say diabetes in the general population and see if a sample of qigong practitioners have a lower incidence rate.  Or we look at survival rates for a sample of people with a terminal disease  who practice qigong verses those who don't.  However the nature of a personal qigong practice, by definition, varies so much, and indeed personal commitment to practice varies so much, that getting a sample on the scale of a 100 or a 1000 people just doesn't seem likely.

So qigong is likely "falsifiable" only in the sense that you can do your own personal experiments.

How Physical Therapy Rattles Qigong

A by product of all the enthusiasm that is generated around sports are changes in the way medicine is practiced. (Enthusiasm about medicine has also changed the way sports are practiced.) Sports medicine is designed to get players back on the field as soon as possible so they can play again. The practice of building up muscle around injuries functions like pain killers, making it possible to return to the sport before the injury has fully healed because tense muscles limit sensitivity to pain, as well as mobility.

This principle is now applied in order to get people back to work faster, to resist all sorts of joint and back pain, and to 'fight' aging. This approach inhibits the natural healing process. From the point of view of Daoism this is a form of aggression known as 'attempting to put off your fate.' Eventually it returns (to all of us) and usually with a vengeance. (see chapter 30 of the Daodejing)

I'm not attempting here to accurately represent the methods of physical therapists, a constantly changing field, which is particularly skilled at getting people walking again after surgery. What I am suggesting is that common notions of how healing works can be obstacles to understanding and practicing qigong. A Qigong approach to relieving pain is to increase circulation to any areas of tension so that the possibilities of healing can take place. We stabilize the area with precise and balanced alignment and we practice moving in alignment within a smaller range of motion. In essence, we create a safe enough environment to let relaxation happen, dissolve tension, and let whatever healing can happen, happen.

Pain tells us an injury has taken place. Pain is often associated with tension. If the injury is so serious that no one thinks it will ever heal, than perhaps building strength (ie. more tension and with time, insensitivity) is the best option. It is a situations in which "you are trying to dig a well after you are already thirsty."(Nei jing,Classic of Chinese Medicine, Commentary on the Inner Classic or Chinese Medicine)

On the other hand, if the injury is associated with an area of strength, or chronic tension, and is exacerbated by habitually tense movement or posture, than strengthening more muscles will make the problem worse in the long run. In the short run the problem may appear to go away because it has been obscured...... but this is not true healing.

Strength and Modernism

The worldwide movement called 'modernism' seems to insist on squeezing everything 'traditional' to see what can be extracted of value. This view assumes that what is of value in tradition can and should be extracted from the valueless mumbo jumbo of belief and superstition. What this aggressive view misses when applied to internal arts is that they have already been refined many times- every generation goes through a process of unfolding the material of the past and making it their own. Internal arts, and gongfu in general, are super concentrated already.

When this 'separate out the chafe from the wheat' notion of modernism is applied to qigong, qigong seems to weaken and wither away. If we insist on examining qigong from the point of view of Modern medicine for instance, or sport based athleticism, at best qigong will appear to be mild hypochondria or a fantasy. It will seem too insignificant, too slow, too ineffective, and too boring!

But don't let that get you down. What happens if we turn the table around and use qigong to examine these other two? Modern medicine seems obsessed with inconclusive tests and invasive procedures, it's way too much- way too late. Sports look like competition induced trance, as a way to achieve glory with out sensitivity.

Such attempts to 'cross reference'-- or as the cliche goes, 'meld east and west'-- are delicate projects which too often bring with them a kind of enthusiasm which lacks sensibility. Fields of knowledge have their own inherent logic only when considered in context. We don't use molecular biology to analyze traffic congestion, or shipbuilding to analyze pastry making. This being said, indulge me in this brief look at what weight lifting is from a qigong point of view. I am often in situations of trying to explain qigong to people who lift weights. Normally I try to use language and terms which bring them into conversation comfortably, rarely do I get to explain what it is like to look out at the world from the perspective of someone practicing qigong. Here goes.

Weight lifters carefully damage muscles and other soft tissues a little bit at a time causing contractions in all the soft tissues around these minor injuries, generally restricting the circulation of qi. This then causes the muscles to grow larger and more rigid in order to reduce future injury to themselves and other soft tissues. Most people do it for the look or the feeling of strength. This suggests that they started out feeling weak, or are perhaps drawn to an idealized image of what they could be. Others lift weights because the work they do or the sports they play are characterized by regular injuries, the added bulk gives them some protection, and the reduced circulation makes it possible to sustain small injuries without feeling them.

The work and exercise people do often leaves a regrettable mark on their bodies. On the other hand, if you are good enough to play for the Chicago Bulls, do it! Why resist? Some fates are easier to unravel than others.

If my arguments seem to strong, perhaps there is a resolution. Daoism has always held that there needs to be many different ways for different people to fulfill their natures and that despite apparent differences we are all participants in a larger collective body and we actually need each other to be different in order to support a community, or a community of communities. The world is big enough for many different ways of being. My guess is that weight lifting has its true roots in the skillful wielding of heavy weapons and that perhaps what seems like two diametrically opposing views actually has a resolution in the practice of martial arts, something close to my heart.

If after reading this you still wish to lift weights, my suggestions are: Be graceful, develop evenly, and use loss of movement range as a measure of when you've gone to far. I will venture that the real distinction between muscular strength and muscular tension is: Strength happens where you want it to happen, tension happens where you don't want it to happen.

In the practice of qigong we do not want strength or tension and we tend to follow this simple adage: If it feels like strength-- it's tension! Qigong practitioners are adept at releasing unwanted tension from anywhere in their bodies.

Winter Training

Winter is for Storing Qi.  Winter is the time to just maintain your practice.  At this time we try not to lose anything we’ve developed or gained, and of course we try not to get injured.  It is the time to practice lots of stillness.  This kind of practice is called returning to the root, stillness "tonifies" the Kidneys.  In contrast it is also the time to perfect circulation.  Lots of Winter practices have to do with testing or improving circulation, they include, various types of bathing, scrubbing, pounding, slapping, scraping, shaking, etc...
When Winter comes I will share some techniques for improving circulation and developing vigorous weiqi (the qi on the surface of the body.)

Why do we practice differently in different seasons?  Does it have a benefit?  Is there some fruition?

Fall Training

Continuing with yesterdays post:

There is a Chinese saying: Open up to new practices in the Spring, avoid sweating in the Summer, Develop Power in the Fall, and Store Qi in the Winter.

Fall: What is power training? For the most part, power training is the process of improving efficiency. Of the hundreds of different power training techniques one can think of, most, if not all, can be understood as efficiency training. Power training is a process of refining technique. It is the harvest season.
Here is a short list:
Compress (shrink), expand (explode),
Move the whole body as one unit.
Coordinate every part of your body simultaneously.
Focus all 400 muscles on one task.
Use all of your body weight when issuing force.
If you use waves to generate power from one part of your body to another, make sure none of the wave ‘action’ is dispersed before hitting it’s target.
Make all waves smaller and more refined (hidden), so that there is no delay when issuing force.

The process of refining technique can include lots of other aspect of training besides power training. The big question I have for my readers is: How much power does a martial artist need? Isn’t there some point at which more power training is just silly. Isn’t that the point of a lot of Kungfu movies? If my punches can break bones, and knock a man 50 pounds heavier than me to the ground, do I need more?
Isn’t it true that after I have developed a certain amount of power my curve will start to level off, meaning I have to work a lot harder to get a much smaller improvement? I have heard people say that a martial artist's power can keep doubling every few years, isn’t this just a fantasy?

Spring and Summer Training

There is a Chinese saying:  Open up to new practices in the Spring, avoid sweating in the Summer,  Develop Power in the Fall, and Store Qi in the Winter.
Why not practice everything all year round?  If gongfu/neijia(inner arts) is not a processional religious tradition why would we practice this way?  Is there any good reason?
Let’s talk about what the saying means first.

Spring:  Opening up to new practices, of course means learning new routines and new techniques, but it also means stretching more, increasing your range of motion, and breaking up any stagnation leftover from Winter.  Usually Spring is associated with the Liver organ, which "stagnates" from too much fried or greasy food.  The liver is "tonified" by vigorous movement.  Spring is a good time to sweat a little.

Summer:  Not sweating is a form of endurance training.  This season is associated with the heart, which is the Emporor of the Organs.  The country is well run when the Emporor has nothing to do.  Of course we know the heart is a pump that needs to keep pumping, but does it need to pump fast?  To understand how not sweating can be endurance training consider running 100 yards as fast as you can and timing it.  Immediately take your  pulse.  Now try to run the same distance in the same amount of time, and try to do it with a slower heart rate.
The Chinese idea works just the opposite, try to move as much as you can with out increasing your heart rate enough to break a sweat.  Over time you will be able to move faster and more vigorously without increasing your heart rate.
Running through a few Shaolin forms at performance speeds still gets me breathing hard.  It feels good, but I don’t do it everyday, and I actually think it would be counter productive if I did. When I go backpacking with a heavy pack, everyone else seems to get tired first, so it must be working.
I would argue that we really don’t need what many people call "cardio-conditioning." What do my 100 a day readers think?

Walking #3 (Story)

In the religious Daoist tradition stories are considered qi transmissions. To study personally with a great bagua or qigong teacher is of immeasurable value but we can receive qi transmissions in many different ways.

Once during the Qing dynasty in China the Emperor and his courtiers decided to make a sport out of all the outrageous claims martial artist were making. They had many martial artists brought one by one to the palace and asked them to perform many feats, after which they were usually put to death.

The Emperor heard about a bagua master who people claimed could move any stone. So the Emperor had a huge stone brought into the courtyard using long levers and pulleys. He then had the famed martial artist brought to the palace. Upon seeing the challenge he asked to be given 24 hours and some torches to see by. Amused, the Emperor granted the request. The martial artist began crawling all over the of the stone, looking and feeling everywhere. 24 hours later the Emperor and his courtiers returned and demanded to see the stone moved. The martial artist then put one finger on one particular spot and using just that finger succeeded in pushing the huge stone all around the courtyard. The Emperor and his courtiers were so impressed that they granted him his life.

It seems that even stones have acupuncture meridians.

It is said that a bagua practitioner who has reached the height of mastery can step on a solid cobble stone and turn it to dust. I imagine that such steps are extremely light.
The adepts experience of the world is recreated in each step or gesture we make. Qi gong practitioners don't just re-learn how to walk, we are continuously re-learning how to walk. We are demonstrating true openness to the possibilities. The fruit of practice is that walking itself becomes unconditioned.

Walking #2 (Toddlers')

Watching toddlers' movement can be really instructive.  Toddlers are unstable and actually rely not on strength or righting reactions (both of which develop and integrate with time) but on the softness of their bones and the fluidity of their joints.  They can make great errors in stepping and stumbling because they have a large range of motion in their joints.  They easily recover from falls.  Their bodies are buoyant and adaptable.  Their joints acutually pulse, or open and close, as they walk or reach out for something they want and draw it back toward their center (or their mouth.)

"...it's bones are soft, it's muscles are weak, and yet it's grip is very strong,"

(Daode jing Chapter 55, Liu ming)

Qi gong and internal martial arts combine these two approaches to movement, that of the very young and that of the very old. Both approaches can be considered weak.

From doing these practices, as we age, our joints have more space and we use the space that we have more efficiently. We return to balance without much strain or effort.

Somewhere I picked up the saying:  "Walk with your feet on the ground and your head in the clouds."

Walking #1 (Older people)

What is it like watching most older people move? Is it a source of pity or sympathy, or perhaps a foreboding omen of what we can some day expect ourselves? If we were to study older peoples' movements with respectful inquisitiveness what might we learn?

Young people walk by falling slightly forward to create momentum and continuously catching themselves with their front foot as they stride forward. This type of movement requires:

1. The ability to suddenly contract muscles should we mis-step or slip.

2. Well integrated reflexes, righting reactions, and equilibrium responses so we can stop abruptly.

3. Buoyancy in the joints(space/fluidity) and a fairly wide range of motion to account for sudden variation.

As people age it becomes more difficult to maintain the muscle tissue sufficient to catch oneself, right oneself and return to balance. As people age they often develop a reduced range of motion do to repeated injuries, including what we tend to call normal wear and tear. Even small injuries often leave scar tissue which reduces pliancy and range of motion. This along with a general loss of fluids in the joints leaves less space in the joints for movement. This not only makes large steps difficult or painful, but the righting reactions needed to re-balance are often out of ones range of motion or would themselves cause re-injury in the joints.

Big steps, or any type of reckless movement, brings the risk of falling and breaking already deficient bones. Thus how do older people walk? Hesitant little steps. They test the ground with each step and find their balance with each weight shift, doing their best to maintain their balance all the time.

Eventually, everyone's muscles and reactions degenerate and we are all, in a sense, forced to except the sensitivity that comes with weakness (in Daoism this process is called return).

When older people walk they draw on all the resources they have, (they'll take your arm if you offer it.)

Those in the past, who cultivated the Way,
Were subtle,mysterious, abstruse, penetrating,
Unfathomable, and so too deep to describe.
Because of this,
I can only tell you how they seemed.
They were cautious, as if crossing a river in winter.
Always watchful of danger on all four sides.
They were ceremonious and polite, like being a guest.
Yielding, like ice beginning to melt.
Plain and unconditioned, like an uncarved block of wood.
As open, as a valley.
Murky, like turbid water.
Who among you can be so murky and yet know
Quiet and Clarity within?
Which of you can enter stillness only to return to movement?
Those who keep this Dao,
Avoid fullness.
Because they are not full,
they can renew themselves and not be worn out.
Daode jing Chapter 15 (Liu ming)

This quality of movement, testing the ground before a weight shift, avoiding muscle contractions, essentially seeking depth and ease, are all things we do when we practice qi gong, taiji, or bagua. Aging may actually make them easier to do!