What Is Qigong (Tai Chi)?
"What is this thing you do?" he asks, hesitantly, over the phone,"this quee gung?" "Is it a martial art? he asks, or is it some kind of health practice?" "Well," I answer, "it is a health practice, it's also a meditation practice, as well as a spiritual practice." "Wow," he says,"all in one package huh? What a deal!" I suppose qigong could be called a sort of psycho-spiritual-energetic-meditation-movement/exercise/routine. Then again, there's no need to get so technical. Qigong is just something I do, like breathing, like eating, like dancing, like making love. Making love with the universe, you might call it. An amorous, attentive, articulated, attitude of openness and grace, an exchange on a deep and basic level of my inner being with that of the great undivided, unending, undissolved Dao. And with that exchange comes balance, harmony, a composure of spirit, a deepening of character, a relaxing of mind muscles, a feel of safety, of being at home, of being empty and full at the same time, of being attentive to detail, clear of vision, open of heart, soft yet strong like water, like wind, sensitive to changes in the energetic atmosphere, simple joy in beingness, compassion for the sufferings of those around me, a sense of proportion, of objectivity, of openess to change, transformation and miracles, a greater sense of who I am myself and how I fit into the grand scheme of things, a deeper understanding of how I fit into nature and how nature fits in to me. Of course sometimes it's just too hard, too tedious, too boring, too hot, too little sleep, not in the mood, no time, no quiet, too much to do, too much to understand, too much to remember, too hard to stretch, to stop my madly running mind. I'm too off center, too sad, too anxious, too impatient. too spaced out, too distracted, too distraught, too confused, feeling hopeless, out of whack, deflated, defeated, dissolved in my own sense of importance or no importance. But still, the practice, the form, the breathing, the focusing, the exchange of light and darkness, of form and formlessness, of yin and yang, in and out all sustains me, uplifts me out of my limited sense of being, my old tired patterns, my old empty emotional, mental, physical and spiritual states those oh so familiar faces of doubt, worry, fear that we all carry from childhood, those past life karmic hauntings that hold so much power over us until we learn to let them go, release them gently but firmly into the great healing eternal Dao. As the ancient Daoists said: We humans are stardust, we are golden, and we've got to get ourselves back to the garden, the garden of Dao, the garden of health, vitality and spirit, using and uniting with the three treasures of jing, qi and shen, those three shining jewels of simplicity, patience and compassion, those three celestial guides leading us back to before the beginning when Dao gave birth to the oneness, the oneness gave birth to the two, the endless spinning, dancing polarity of yin and yang, and the two gave birth to the three, those shining jewels, those celestial guides, which, in turn, give birth continuously to the ten thousand things, all that we see and know and touch and feel and experience. Yes, I say, this mysterious qigong practice that practices me, is sometimes a struggle, sometimes a dance, but always a wise and nurturing teacher. Yes, it is something that I hold dear and precious like a light in my life, like a treasure in my heart, like a gift of the universe which humbles me and fills me with the sense of awe. This qigong, as dear to me as the smile on the face of my beloved, the firm yet loving words of my teachers, the clear eyed vision of my children, the very centermost core of my being, eternal, vast formless yet solid, eternally present while I drift aimlessly through the wu wei of my exultant, hopeful, endlessly unfolding life. Solala Towler
From the National QiQong Website (newsletter)
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