Healing Cancer with T'ai Chi and Chi Kung

Post Date:April 02, 2010 | PermaLink | Comment

    Tree branches clog the paths at Boyce Park—wreckage from the blast of February snow—slowing hikers to a crawl. The same problem plagues the creek that runs through the park. Fallen branches had severely slowed the flow of the current, and all of the detritus—trash, scum, and branches of all sizes—continues to accumulate creating even more blockage.
    Such scenes are extremely insightful illustrations of the Traditional Chinese Medicine (TCM) perspective of cancer. The circulation of the body resembles a series of connecting paths (called meridians and channels), and under normal, healthy conditions, the entire system is clear and movement is easy to sustain. But if there is a blockage, it is like the tree across a path or stream: circulation is either impeded or stopped entirely, which distresses the balance of the body and can manifest as a tumor or a cyst.
    This theory parallels Western science’s understanding of the circulatory system, which delivers the necessary oxygen and nutrients to the body’s cells while simultaneously removing toxins and waste products. Any blockage increases the potential for damage to the organs and cells of the body. For example, a blocked artery increases the likelihood of a heart attack or stroke.
    Qigong and T’ai Chi are designed to correct and maintain the circulation of the body through a series of movements that use the muscles and deep diaphragmatic breathing as pumps. The movement coupled with breath stimulates the channels and organs through a series of bending, stretching, and internal massage. This principle is the gist of all medical Qigong as well as the core of such famous cancer sets as Soaring Crane Qigong (developed by Master Zhao Jin-Xiang) and the Anti-Cancer Qigong Walk (developed by Master Guo-Lin)—both of which have been used alongside traditional chemo and radiation therapy in Chinese hospitals for many years.
    “Bending the Bow,” a move commonly used in Breast and Lung Cancer treatment, may help to illustrate these principles. To do the exercise, begin with the feet shoulder width apart in either a sitting or standing position, and reach the hands palms out and extended away from the body at shoulder height. Inhale as the hands are drawn back toward the shoulders to form loose fists; then exhale as the hands return to the starting position. The movement of the arms forward and backwards expands and contracts the chest and lungs (bending and stretching). The breath in conjunction with the arms creates an internal pressure—a “massage”—that increases the circulation to the lungs and breasts. To target a specific spot, the angle of the arms and hands are altered in order to focus the move. “Bending the Bow” also massages a key lymph node located approximately one inch above the nipple—a common site for cysts. By increasing the circulation of the lymph, the potential for the formation of a cyst is minimized, or in terms of treatment, these exercises spark the healing process.
    Nevertheless, people should not forgo Western medical treatment for cancer, but as numerous medical studies document, Qigong and T’ai Chi are powerful adjuncts that facilitate the effectiveness of chemotherapy and radiation and minimize the side-effects of the treatments. Many hospitals in the Western Pennsylvania region recognize Qigong and T’ai Chi as valuable preventatives against disease and as catalysts for the healing process. T’ai Chi and Qigong are the foundations of complete physical, mental, and emotional health and well-being.   The balance and harmony of mind, body, and spirit that these exercises provide helps to stave off disease while providing the individual the means to continue to heal him or her self.

Dr. David Clippinger, Director of Still Mountain T’ai Chi and Chi Kung, LLC, frequently teaches Cancer and other medical Qigong forms through workshops and private consultations and has presented at the National Ovarian Cancer Symposium, UPMC Cancer Caring Center, Gilda’s Club, MaGee Hospital and other facilities. The next Cancer workshop is June 12th, and more information is available at www.stillmountaintaichi.com or directly at dwc8@comcast.net or 412-480-9177.

Awakenings: The Vernal Equinox

Post Date:March 19, 2010 | PermaLink | Comment

The birds were singing brightly this morning at 6:30, and as the dawn crept over the tree tops, the darkness was broken by a bustling of energy. Everything was awakening. Spring arrives tomorrow, the 20th of March, at 1:32 P.M., and the vernal equinox marks the shift from the yin of winter to the yang of spring.
    My own energy has had a noticeable lift as the week has gone on, and I have begun my annual transition from concentrating upon mostly meditative Chi Kung (qigong) internal practices to more vibrant ones such as 5 Animals Sport Chi Kung (Wu Qin Xi) in order to vitalize Chi. More, it is also a time to turn toward other “external” internal arts such as T’ai Chi weapons forms in order to refine the Chi and revitalize the meridians and channels of the body.
    As mentioned in my previous post (“To Be a Tiger: Breathe Deep and Find the Root of the Earth”), the end of winter is a period of regeneration and the storage of Chi for the upcoming year. The results of such regeneration are all around us now: the crocuses, which were buried under two feet of snow two weeks ago, are in bloom. The lesson is that we need to constantly prepare ourselves to respond at the appropriate time in the appropriate ways too.
    Our Chi is our lifeline to the Tao—the natural order of the universe. The vibrancy of our Chi is the window upon our own inner design. Too often we expend our energy upon worthless endeavors and inappropriate emotions such as anger and desire. To complicate matters even more, when attention (which is itself Chi) is given to anger and desire, further fuel is given to those emotions, thereby exacerbating suffering, which, in turn perpetuates a vicious circle of more anger, more greed, and more and more suffering. As Lao Tzu writes in the 13th chapter of the Tao Te Ching,

    The reason we have a lot of trouble
    Is that we have selves.
    If we had no selves,
    What troubles would we have?

It is the idea of an autonomous self—as if we are separate from the Tao—that creates suffering.
    The return of Spring is a reminder of the eternal return of life, of which we are a part. It should be a reminder that we too must return to what is “natural”—to be like the birds that sign and the flowers that bloom. True to their nature and not striving to be more than their own being. If we too would simply be, we would bring ourselves into balance, harmony, and equanimity. We too would discover our own inner design and would cease pushing against the natural harmony of the world. We too would awaken.

To Be a Tiger: Breathe Deep and Find the Root of the Earth

Post Date:March 05, 2010 | PermaLink | Comment

The image of a tiger evokes strength, nobility, energy, and courage. As the year of the Earth Ox plods into the past and the year of the Metal Tiger has sprung in, we might imagine that the new year promises a radical shift of tone and energy. Fortunately, the year is supposed to offer some welcome relief from the suffering and difficulty of the past year. Overall, the year of the Tiger is marked with tumultuous energy--frenetic and perhaps difficult at times—that should result in a positive upswing over the last year.
    Nevertheless, even though we have entered a new lunar year, we should not expect our own yin energy to swing immediately to full yang. We are still within the last throes of Winter--which we should perhaps measure in feet of snow instead of weeks given the temperament of this prolonged and snowy stretch of February. This period, though, leaning toward the Spring equinox at 1:32 P.M. on the 20th of March, should be one of rest, recuperation, and storage. In other words, this last stretch of the winter season seems to resemble more the Earth Ox than a leaping Tiger.
    While such a period of rest may seem antithetical to our conception of the Tiger, it reveals an often overlooked and significant aspect of the Tiger's character. The Tiger is usually depicted as poised to spring into action.   In other words, the tiger is latent, pure energetic potential. The energy of the Tiger is coiled inward ready to unfurl in a devastating pounce. Like a Tiger hidden in the swaying grass—ever vigilant and poised to respond—we need to be reminded that we need to “recharge” ourselves Tiger so that we too are poised for the coming yang seasons of Spring and Summer.
    During this time of year, it is vital that we rest and restore our depleted energy resources through such activities as Chi Kung (qigong), meditation, and the attention to our breath. All of these activities focus our attention inward, and the emphasis upon the breath is used to lead Chi to our Dantien, our battery, in order to replenish and store energy.
    In Taoist scriptures, such breathe techniques of longer inhales/shorter exhales are known as “yin” breathing exercises, which are associated with the Tiger as well. As Chang San-Feng, the famous Taoist hermit credited with the creation of T’ai Chi, writes,

    It is said that when you breathe out you contact the Root of Heaven and experience a sense of openness, and when you breathe in you contact the Root of Earth and experience a sense of solidity. Breathing out is associated with the fluidity of the dragon, breathing in is associated with the strength of the tiger.

With the beginning of the year of the metal tiger, it is vital to be poised for the vernal equinox by focusing upon the breath of Earth, the inhalation, which mirrors the inner strength of the tiger. Turn the attention inward and cultivate the energy of the Tiger—ever vigilant and vibrant. Hopefully in the new year, all of us can remain true to the root of earth—to breathe deeply and manifest the energy to ride the tiger throughout this entire year—prepared to deal with whatever it may bring.

The Tao of Ethics: Part One, Wu Wei

Post Date:January 27, 2010 | PermaLink | Comment

It is not correct to imply that there is an “ethics” of “chi.” Quite simply, chi is chi; it is energy that is neither good nor bad; it simply is. Chi can stagnate, which Traditional Chinese Medicine (TCM) conceptualizes as the root of illness and disease. That is, if chi does not flow properly, a blockage occurs that creates an imbalance in the body, and illness occurs. Similarly, if there is an excess of chi, the body’s harmony is disrupted as well. But to say that Chi has an ethical component is like saying that electricity is inherently good or bad. It is only our perception that creates that judgment.
    Nevertheless, Chi does play a vital role in ethical conduct, and impacts the Taoist principles of Wu Wei (non-doing) and Te (virtue).   My claim that there is a connection between Chi, wu wei, te, and ethics raised that hackles of one editor who had requested that I write an essay on the relationship between T’ai Chi and spiritual practice. Needless to say, the essay (Two Mountains—the Spiritual Legacy of T’ai Chi Chuan) did not appear in his magazine, although it can be read at CloudWater Zendo’s website under “Internal Arts” practices: www.cloudwater.org/index.php/internal-arts.
    The editor’s main objective was largely in response to my assertion that wu wei (literally, non-doing) must embody ethics. In brief, wu wei is acting wholly in accord with or natural to a particular situation—a knowing when to act and when not to act. Some people misread this “non-doing” as doing nothing whatsoever and parallels apathy.   In my essay I draw upon a passage from the famous sinologist Holmes Welch in order to chart the bridge between wu wei and ethics.   The quote that I used comes from Welch’s Taoism: the Parting of the Way, wherein he makes an explicit connection between ethics and wu-wei:

Wu wei does not mean to avoid all action, but rather all hostile, aggressive
action . . . It is because of this law [of aggression] that the Taoist practices Wu Wei. He sees spreading around him the vicious circles of lying, hatred, and violence. His aim is not merely to avoid starting new circles, but to interrupt those that have already been started (33).

The individual of the Tao is obligated to not only understand the dynamics of virtue (i.e., not lying, not being violent, not embodying hatred) but to perpetuate virtue through proper action, which is the heart of wu wei. Sometimes a student of the Tao must interrupt the circles of hatred, violence, and lying—acting with what Holmes Welch calls “regrettable necessity,” which directly implies that there is an ethical imperative—a redirecting of energy—when the situation is not in keeping with the natural harmony of the Tao.
    The individual must not disrupt the natural order and flow of things, and to act wholly in accord with the moment requires that that action is not driven by the individual’s ego, desires, and emotions. Consequently, abiding by the principle of wu wei necessitates a clear comprehension of ones “essence” and intentionality. The goal is to discontinue disruptive patterns that are extensions of ones Ego—the desires of the self. To remain within the Tao is to be beyond desire and ego, and to remain in alignment with virtue (te) and energy (chi).
    Passages from various ancient Taoist texts emphasize this inextricable weaving of ethics and wu-wei as well. For example, the famous Ancestor Lu writes,

Real constancy should respond to people:
In responding to people, it is essential not to get confused.
When you don’t get confused, your nature is naturally stable;
When your nature is stable, energy naturally returns.

The individual must not act from a place of uncertainty, but rather be aligned with the “essential”—the Tao—which requires a clear understanding of ones intentions and to keep within ones natural “essence.”   If intentions are clear and virtuous, then one can respond with wu wei, which stabilizes “nature” and generates “energy” or chi. Moreover, such energy feeds back into to the system and might be imagined as a flow chart wherein:

    Energy →situation → outcome [and then] outcome → energy

The energy going into a situation affects the outcome, and the outcome is the manifestation of the energy. [Part Two: “The Tao of Ethics: Chi” addresses this relationship of energy and ethics in much greater detail.]

    Wu wei is responding—not ignoring or being apathetic. It is the responsibility of responding.    As Chang San-Feng, the famous Taoist Monk and the person often attributed with creating T’ai Chi, writes:

If you do not respond to people, then you are empty and silent, an open absence, when they come to you, you ought to respond, then let the thing pass when it’s past. Be clear, upright, and magnanimous, and you won’t be confused. Your true nature will then be clear and serene, while your original spirit will solidify and crystallize.

The individual has a responsibility to respond without attachment to outcomes—“letting things pass when its past”—to do what needs to be done without concern for reward, honor, or even punishment. What powers ones response is being “clear, upright, and magnanimous,” and wu wei rests upon these virtuous principles.    Wu wei emerges out of ones ethics and virtue, which Taoism calls “Te.” More, those virtuous qualities both generate and are the manifestation of ones equanimity and the marks of original spirit. Only with such virtue at the core, can a person truly actualize wu wei. Only when the individual is aligned with such virtues can that person encounter his or her original spirit and truly be on the path and be at one with the Tao.

Attitude is Everything, So Empty your Cups

Post Date:January 05, 2010 | PermaLink | 1 Comment(s)

There is a famous Zen story (although I have seen it told as a Taoist parable as well) about a young Scholar, who has decided that he should visit with a Zen Master and declare his wishes to be the Master’s student. When the young scholar arrives at the Master’s hermitage, he tries to impress him with the intricacies of his knowledge of Zen. The Master listens patiently and invites the scholar to have some tea. The young man sits down and continues to prattle on about how much he knows about Zen, while the Master pours tea into the scholar’s cup until it overflows and even then the Master continues to pour. Finally, the scholar notices and yells “What are you doing?” To which the Master responds, “How can I teach you anything when you are already so full? You must first empty yourself of what you think you know, otherwise any teaching will be like this tea spilling onto the table and floor.”

We experience so much of the world like the young scholar—unable to encounter anything as unique, beautiful, and for the very first time because we are in the way. We bring our expectations and values and filter everything through that frame and opportunities to truly experience something are lost. Master Suzuki, the great 20th Century Zen Teacher, recognized this problem and encouraged people to cultivate “Beginner’s Mind.” That is, we should approach everything as if we are encountering it for the very first time. In that respect, we cultivate the wonder of a child’s outlook. Unfortunately, we all too quickly “grow up” into our Egos and lose the freshness that generates astonishment.

It is important to emphasize “Beginner’s Mind” since so many people come to meditation or T’ai Chi like the young scholar. They have read books. They have seen DVDs. They have worked with other teachers. Or, they have devoted time and energy to other body practices such as Yoga or hard-style martial arts. And since T’ai Chi shares qualities with Yoga and other martial arts, often those individuals think that they are already “advanced” and knowledgeable, when in reality, they are so full that there is no room for any other teaching or any other experience except for that which has been preconceived. In other words, there is no room for T’ai Chi!

After all, T’ai Chi is not yoga. T’ai Chi is not Kung Fu or Karate. T’ai Chi is based on entirely different philosophical, spiritual, and even medical principles. To overlook the unique qualities of T’ai Chi and to filter it only through ones experience of Yoga or Kung Fu or Karate or anything else, for that matter, is akin to erroneously thinking that a college degree in Psychology is the same as a degree in Engineering. While a person learns important tools through attaining a college diploma, the content level of expertise is not the same from discipline to discipline. All of us would agree that given the choice between driving our car over a bridge built by someone with a degree in Psychology and one built by an engineer, we would choose the one built by the Engineer. The same applies to the philosophy and practice of T’ai Chi as well, and to see only the rudimentary similarities with other disciplines is to overlook what is amazing about T’ai Chi in and of itself.

When we bracket ourselves off in this fashion—creating a fortress of our ego—nothing is experienced beyond our Ego. What a small world our egos inhabit—and what an even smaller view of the world our egos offer us.

One of the most important lessons in meditation and T’ai Chi must be to expose the small world that we create and inhabit, and to go beyond such a finite world to one of infinite possibilities. We must empty our cups. To do so requires an attitude as open as the sky and not as small as if one is peering at the sky through a key hole. Only then will we learn real freedom.

The Fundamentals of Returning to the Source: Embryonic Breathing

Post Date:December 10, 2009 | PermaLink | Comment

Embryonic Breathing is an ancient Taoist meditation technique of generating Chi (Qi, energy of the body) and melding it with Shen (the spirit, mind) for health and spiritual cultivation. The benefits include minimizing stress through deep diaphragmatic breathing, bolstering the immune system, and cultivating Samadhi (Prajna, sustained mindfulness). This technique requires consistent practice in order to maximize all of the benefits. The following materials comprise a thumbnail sketch of how to practice this meditation technique. As Ancestor Lu writes, “It is necessary, however, to seek elevated Real People to indicate to you the hidden subtleties in order that the proper results be attained.” This sketch of the fundamentals is meant to be used only in concert with instruction from an Internal Arts expert.

Textual References

“If you want to understand the hammer and tongs of transcendence, you need the forge and bellows of an adept.” Forty-Third Case, Blue Cliff Records

“Returning to the root is called stillness
Stillness is called return to Life,
Return to Life is called the constant;
Knowing the constant is called enlightenment.”
    --Tao-te Ching

“The energy of heaven is the higher soul, the energy of earth is the lower soul. Return them to their mystic chamber, so each is in its place. Keep watch over them and do not lose them; you will be connected to absolute unity above, and the vitality of absolute unity is connected to heaven.” Huai-nan-tzu

The Physical Fundamentals

•    Meditative Posture
•    Breathing: Taoist/Buddhist
•    Breathing: Guardian Chi/Storing Chi
•    Appropriate Seasons and Times of Day: Nourish/Release Chi

The Fundamental Techniques

1.    Calm Xin with Buddhist Breathing
2.    Locate Upper and Lower Dantians (yin/yang)
3.    Condense the Spirit with Taoist Breathing
4.    Lead Shen/Chi to Real Dantian
5.    Unite Shen and Chi at the Real Dantian
6.    Massage: straight right to left, circular, firm shake

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