Qi Meets Sweat

Watching my Friday morning Qi Gong students, I see them reach for the qi, eyes closed, bodies rocking slightly as they finish the session with Bamboo Sways In The Wind. Many stand but some, tired by the thirty minute session, sit, backs upright in their folding chairs. None had heard of Qi Gong before. None is younger than 75.
Some had tried the Senior Center Tai Chi class but found it too tiring, too strenuous, too demanding of arthritic hands, artificial knees, and spinal stenosis to continue. But in Qi Gong, they have found a combination of movement and stillness within their sometimes restricted reach. I may have to remind them to keep breathing deeply, nudge them away from trying to do more than they are comfortable with–it’s not easy to “relax” and “move like water” when you’ve done the opposite for seven decades–but after we finish, they laugh about being ready for a nap and there are always questions: Can you show us those acupressure points for headaches again? Is this why my granddaughters always want me to rub their feet? I don’t want to wear the back brace I bought so my posture improves so can Qi Gong help me do this on my own?
We don’t talk about religion or spirituality, but I gather from their comments that most are Christian and good churchgoers. They aren’t seeking an alternative to their monotheism, yet remain open to the idea of meditation and visualization. Not the “hippie transcendence seekers” of the 60’s, these are women who quite simply don’t want their necks to ache, who want to shop for groceries when they’re 80, who might wear sensible shoes but also rock their scarves and rings and joke about their next career as a runway model. While they follow their doctor’s orders, they’re ready to try other modalities. Health is health for them, whether the “fix what’s broken” mechanic’s approach of Western medicine to the “tend to the healthy” gardener’s view of Eastern.
While in Asia the traditions or Taoist and Qi healing go back thousands of years, from the Dao Yin of the Yellow Emporer to the bringing of Zen to China by Bodhidharma, becoming locked into the rigidity long tradition encourages, in America, lack of tradition engenders freedom of approach. My students don’t know The Eight Brocades or The Animal Frolics so aren’t insulted if I don’t teach them but would learn them happily, as well. In America, where we go to Yogalates, Spin Qi and other blended East/West workout classes, “pure” Qi Gong, with its emphasis of strength and suppleness, thousands of forms, and mix of healing, spiritual and martial arts styles steps naturally into our let’s-try-it-all culture. And for those who’ve avoided fitness because of their weight, their bad knees and backs, their lack of flexibility or balance, Qi Gong’s precept that one can and should only do what is comfortable, feels approachable in ways that Zumba, P90X or even Tai Chi doesn’t.
And seniors are not the only group that can benefit from and appreciate the teachings of Qi Gong. Stress-related doctor visits constitute the highest percentage of all appointments; insomnia has been linked to weight gain and high blood pressure; by 2030, statistics project 50% of all Americans will be overweight or obese, many suffering from metabolic syndrome. Qi Gong’s movement, mindfulness, and stress reduction with little space and no special clothing needed could be practiced in offices, homes, parks, even museums and churches, the ideal complement to Western medicine and an antidote to Western lifestyle.

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Mindfulness 101: Breathe (Yeah, Like It’s So Easy?)

I’m kicking Taoist butt with the “leaving no trace.” I can’t believe how much I’ve been getting into this “leaving a room at least as clean as when you go in.” Only took me 58 years and three husbands to get there. CH keeps walking into the kitchen and saying “what’s wrong with you?”, even though he was the first one to try keeping it clean. I’m such a natural-born clutterer that he thinks I’ve been replaced by an impostor–a pod person left by aliens ready to suck his spirit out when he’s asleep. Nah, did that to the first two hubbies.


That’s getting to be so natural that I’m tempted to just go with it for another week before trying another mindfulness exercise but that seems like cheating.

This week, then: Take 3 breaths.

Yup, that’s it. Whenever during the day you think of it, sit back, try to let your shoulders relax and take three deep breaths, inhaling into your abdomen, exhaling so your abdomen relaxes back toward your spine. Consider each 3 breath break as a mini-meditation, so much more doable than trying to set

 

¬†aside a half hour in a quiet space, pretending your mind is clear when you’re really totting up the chores you need to accomplish in your whirling, never empty, never settled brain.

3 breaths. Deep, slow. Let that Buddha-belly hang out. Let your mind wander–or not. No goals, no wrong or right. Just 3 breaths.