A Camel Through the Eye of a Needle

When I was a sophomore at Pitzer College, before I transferred to Evergreen, I was in a course called, "Analysis of Human Motor Skills," in which we looked through a neuroscientific and biochemical lens and used some very elementary principles of physics to deconstruct and understand human movement. At the end of the semester, we were assigned a group research and experimental project. In our research on the effect of intention on physical ability, we came across a researcher in California doing quantitative experiments in measuring Qi. The methods of his research indicated that this group was measuring Qi through correlates of blood flow, nerve conduction and very specific and sensitive measurements of temperature. Qi was being redefined in terms of the measurable, physical reality in which Western science excels.

Last week, I received a monthly email newsletter from Kripalu (the "mothership" for yoga and traditional healing therapies on the East coast of the US). In this edition of the newsletter, Kripalu was promoting a new program on "Evidence-Based TaiChi." Intrigued, I read the detailed description of the program which states, "in scientific trials, Dr. Yang and his colleagues have shown that the program improves strength, balance, immune function, and cognition." While the Kripalu website has no link or further information on Dr. Yang's studies or published papers, with some effort, I uncovered his research: five controlled, longitudinal studies, two of which were fully randomized control trials. The Randomized Controlled Trial (RTC) is the pinnacle of modern scientific experimental design- the gold standard.

In my last post, I wrote about Western scientists "and their little atoms." I received two different responses: one was a prompt to investigate why so many people and organizations are so keen to "put East and West into conversation," or why there is this trend to use one's standard to measure the other; the other response was a defense from the Western scientific perspective. Let me first address the language I used in the last post, quoted above. My intention was not to disrespect science or scientists, though I realize now that my word choice was a bit uncivil, and for that I apologize. My intention was instead to call into question the dogmatic belief in the primacy of matter, in the denial of other paradigms of thinking and knowing in favor of the singular Absolute, the analytical-- at the expense of holistic systems thinking, and the ability to hold two or more ideas at once, recognizing the validity of both. To quote my father, "It is the experimental method that defines western science, not atoms or Newton. Science is neither the worship of given wisdom nor even a body of knowledge. Science is a virtue. At least when it is at its best. It is a humble and self critical exploration on the edge of uncertainty. Science is common sense with publication of interesting results."

Science as a virtue, that is as an abstract quality of thinking, is something I admire very much. It amazes me daily how much we have come to know and understand about our world, the brain and the human body, but what frightens me- what leaves me skeptical and perhaps a bit cynical, is what I see in the application of this virtue. As I said, I aim to challenge the dogma that has grown around the current (and not so current) knowledge in science. A detailed discussion on this is beyond the scope of what I will write here, but let me give an example of what I am referring to. Half a century ago, the prevailing view of the brain was of neural circuits that were, for all intents and purposes, "hard-wired" and inalterable. This left thousands suffering with various forms of dementia and Alzheimer's with no hope, and implied that adults simply couldn't learn anything of significance. Ultimately, this neuroscience paradigm held that people cannot change their minds, and since the prevailing belief is that every behavior has a neural correlate, people cannot change, period. In the last fifty years, a huge mass of research has proven this perspective incomplete; it is now a widely accepted notion in the field of neuroscience and psychology that the brain is, in fact, highly plastic, flexible and continually renewing. This is where the BUT comes in. BUT, as neuroscientist V.S. Ramachandran states in his book, The Tell-Tale Brain, "generations of medical students were told that the brain's trillions of neural connections are laid down in the fetus and during early infancy and that adult brains lose their ability to make new neural connections." Many neuroscience and medical textbooks still make this claim, despite heaps of evidence to the contrary. Other scientists like Bruce Lipton (The Biology of Belief), Dr. Candace Pert (The Molecules of Emotion), Lynn McTaggart (The Field) and others who have challenged prevailing and persistent theories with new (and decades-old) research leading to radically different understandings of our world have been tacitly ignored or outright denied by the scientific and medical community at large while their research has been, for the most part withheld from public knowledge or general education.

Additionally, I see a denial of humanity in science that is not only offensive, but dangerous. On the one hand, the attempt to "control" for certain biases or influences is admirable in the light of seeking Truth. However, we must also recognize that scientists (as human beings) have biases; humans are story-tellers- it is how we create our identities and our perception of the world, but the Truth-seeking scientific method has no room for the multiple stories that are True for different individuals. The notion of one ultimate Truth (perhaps related to the West's preference for monotheism?), denies the possibility of coinciding, opposing/complementary and equally valid stories/truths/hypotheses. we have such a hard time accepting, understanding, and applying the knowledge that atoms behave both as particles and as waves because we have this illusion that there is One Absolute Truth (or God?). Perhaps this is the same reason that Dr. Huang claims the impossibility of integrating Traditional Chinese Medicine (TCM) and Western medicine.

It is typically encouraged before designing and conducting scientific experiments to make a list of assumptions or biases. The list is meant to make a scientists aware of his or her blind spots, but the problem comes when the scientist or peer reviewers have the same blind spots and thus, as the term implies, cannot SEE them, cannot become aware of them. In designing experiments to prove or disprove or measure Qi, there are enormous blind spots in the Western scientist's field of vision and so these experiments end up collapsing things they cannot see into things they can: Qi turns into blood-flow and heat, TaiChi turns into physical movement, and the Ayurvedic doshas are collapsed into elements of constitution or causes of disease.

Truth-seeking is a natural human drive, and an important and a good one at that, but we  have narrowed our vision (perhaps Dr. Huang has as well), and it is understandable that we attempt to make sense of things using the tools most readily available to us: current and comfortable definitions that map our reality. 

**This next bit may seem like an irrelevant tangent, but bear with  me**

There is a story of a rich man asking Jesus what he needed to do in order to secure his place in the kingdom of God. When Jesus told him to give up his worldly possessions and aid the poor, the man was frustrated and a bit ambivalent about following these instructions. Jesus then turned towards his disciples and proclaimed, "it is easier for a camel to squeeze through the eye of a needle than for a rich person to get into the kingdom of God.”

Michael Mervosh writes, "Stories have been told as far back as the 15th century about a gate used to enter into the walled city of ancient Jerusalem, after the main gate was closed for the day.  This gate was very narrow. Thus, a fully loaded camel had to have its baggage removed so it could pass through the gate and proceed to its desired destination." (source, http://www.herosjourneyfoundation.org/blog/) Thus, the image of a camel passing through the eye of a needle can be interpreted as the seemingly impossible journey to a desired destination, or perhaps more abstractly, to Truth. Just as the camel at the gate to Jerusalem, we must shed our "baggage," our preconceived notions, or ego in order to pass through the eye of the needle and attain a more holistic understanding, a more complete Truth. 

When we approach Truth with genuine science, we find immense value, as Jacob Brownowski put it, "By the worldly standards of public life, all scholars in their work are of course oddly virtuous. They do not make wild claims, they do not cheat, they do not try to persuade at any cost, they appeal neither to prejudice nor to authority, they are often frank about their ignorance, their disputes are fairly decorous, they do not confuse what is being argued with race, politics, sex or age, they listen patiently to the young and to the old who both know everything. These are the general virtues of scholarship, and they are peculiarly the virtues of science." 

However, we must also realize that for as objective as we may attempt to be, subjectivity is inescapable to the human mind, whether scientist or psychoanalyst. From the book, "Biology Under The Influence: Dialectical Essays on Ecology, Agriculture and Health" by Richard Lewontins and Richard Levins:

"One the one hand, science is the generic development of human knowledge over the millennia, but on the other it is the increasingly commodified specific product of a capitalist knowledge industry. The result is a peculiarly uneven development, with increasing sophistication at the level of the laboratory and research project, along with a growing irrationality of the scientific enterprise as a whole. This gives us a pattern of insight and blindness, of knowledge and ignorance, that is not dictated by nature, leaving us helpless in the big problems facing our species. This dual nature gives us a science impelled both by its internal development and the very mixed outcomes of its applications to understand complexity as the central intellectual problem of out time. But it is held back by the philosophical traditions of reductionism, the institutional fragmentation of research, and the political economy of knowledge as commodity."

Science, like Truth, is a virtue to strive for. Scientists are human, doctors make mistakes, and brains rewire. We must not hold too tightly to the maps science has drawn for us for they are not the territory. In order for the camel to pass through the eye of the needle, it must be stripped of all it wishes to carry in with it. What would happen if we were to approach every scientific inquiry with what is termed in Zen Buddhism as "the beginners mind?" Perhaps we would find that "pure science" described by Brownowski.

Resonance and Dr. Huang

(FYI, the first section of this post was written two weeks ago and I apologize for not submitting it sooner! The second half of the post was written after spending a couple of weeks at the clinic, therefore the first section is much more theory based and includes more references, while the second half is more subjective and reflects my experience in the application of the theory.)

I have drawn dots all over my body in pen. They all seem fairly understandable when I draw them during class when learning the Meridians with my teacher, but when class is over, the spots only mock my efforts to connect the dots. Slowly, as I keep trying to put the points in order, it begins to seem like any random spot on my body could be the next point and I start to look to myself like a painting of the pointillist school (or if you're unfamiliar with the art term, think of the body as made up of tiny pixels) and I open the text book to keep from getting more confused.

Acupuncture points lie on the Meridians, the pathways of Qi in the body. Acupuncture works by stimulating or calming the Qi at a particular point on a Meridian or, through a particular point, exerting some effect on the Qi of the whole Meridian. The Meridians flow through different layers of the body and through different organ regions and thus can have an affect on a part of the body not being needled. By using distal points on my feet, ankles, and lower legs, I can influence my digestion, headaches, or breathing because the point that I stimulate connects, via Qi flowing in the Meridian to another part of the body. In fact, in many cases, acupuncturists consider the distal points (from the elbow down and from the knee down) to be most effective.

So, let's backtrack for a moment; let's talk about Qi.

Qi is often translated as energy or life-force, but it is much more comprehensive than what those words communicate. Qi is the raw material of the universe with the properties of energy and resonance. The ancient Taoist philosophers had a grasp on the idea of resonance long before Western scientists were surprised to find it in their little atoms, and they elucidated how the resonating quality of things influence healing. In his famous book, "The Web That Has No Weaver," Ted Kaptchuck writes,

"The Qi of the sun, rain, and soil resonate with the Qi of the seed to bring forth a plant that already contains the germ of the plant and qualities that the sun, rain, and soil touch. The Qi of an illness can be transformed into healthy Qi by a medicine that resonates between the two particular states. Illness contains the seed of health. Resonance is the process "by which a thing, when stimulated, spontaneously responds according to the natural guidelines of the particular phases of vital energy engendered in itself and active in the situation." The Qi does not "cause" change; the Qi is present before, during, and after the transformation. One Qi elicits the propensity of another Qi that shares a similar kind of "frequency..." Through resonance, one Qi evokes another."

This concept is not unfamiliar to me, and is quite similar to the "prana" in the yogic tradition, but using the concepts of Qi or prana in diagnosis is fundamentally different from the mainstream western process of diagnosis. In fact, the word "diagnosis," can be split into the prefix dia, meaning "through" and the root gnosis, meaning "knowing, or knowledge," (and more accurately, referring to esoteric knowledge of a spiritual truth held my the Greek Gnostics). However, in Eastern traditions, there are a number of different kinds of knowing; one kind of knowledge is epitomized in labeling; naming and thereby creating and externalizing a separate entity, the other type of knowledge is outlined in Raja yoga (the "Royal Path" to wisdom and enlightenment). This second kind of knowing achieves a direct, empathic and subjective connection with or experience of something; it is the union of self and object achieved in meditation. However, the protocol of western knowledge and diagnosis is focused on labels and names and thus "is a refusal to know (in the sense of being one with); in fact, it is a way of not knowing by putting the cause outside of ourselves. Maybe instead of diagnosis, "through knowing," it should be called diaschizis, "through splitting"... For in this case we deal with out suffering by splitting off the cause- projecting it outside, making it something separate and distinct that we are not responsible for and cannot control" (Ballentine, 134.)

In Traditional Chinese Medicine (TCM) and acupuncture practice, the understanding is fundamentally different. Yes, external pernicious influences can and do invade the body, but only when the body's defensive Qi (Wei Qi) is weak. Yes, germs can be harmful and may create a diseased state of the body and so we protect against them by sanitizing acupuncture needles and taking precautions in preparing herbs, but not all germs are harmful and their effect will be different depending on the body they enter, and so no absolute statements can be made. 

Kaptchuck writes, "learning a [symptom,] A, for instance, is not worth much until the full circle of Chinese medicine has been traveled, at which time A will show itself to be rich and useful. The part can only be known when the whole is apparent...a pattern or a diagnosis is mainly an emblematic category that allow for an exchange of words. It is not meant as a label for people. It has no existence as an abstract "truth" that exists independent of the patient... [they] "function as allegorical resources for clinical thinking." The pattern descriptions... are a limited attempt to capture what is necessarily intangible" (176).

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The first time I went to Huang Laoshi's house for what is usually just a one-time, one-hour Q+A session, I asked about the relationship of Qi to the physical body and how acupuncture affects mental illness, depression, compulsions, etc. Dr. Huang paused, and then (it was translated to me) he discussed how the stimulation of the physical human body stimulates the Qi in a particular direction. He used the nervous system as the groundwork for his response and stated that imbalance or disharmony of the nervous system (i.e. mental illness) can be corrected by stimulating the Qi properly because Qi regulates the system. He continued, saying that mental disorder is less physical, less external, and more akin to "a knot in your heart." Acupuncture can loosen the knot by creating more open and smoother flow of Qi. Central to his response is the notion that the mind and the emotions live in the physical, in the Organs and in the Blood. It is written in some of the first books outlining TCM that the Shen, (mind-spirit, translations vary) lives in the Blood, and if a person is deficient in Body Fluids, Yin, or Blood, the Shen will not have a home, will be ungrounded and will float, causing a restless mind, difficulty sleeping or dream-disturbed sleep.

On my second visit to Dr. Huang's home, I asked him if he believes it is possible to integrate TCM and Western medicine. I asked him what he thought of the western-scientific studies attempting to measure and "prove" (or disprove) the existence of Qi. He leaned back on the couch, sighed lightly, and responded, "zhe shi yi ge hen da wenti," "This is a very big question."

Many acupuncturists, herbal and homeopathic doctors in the States also take advantage of Western medicine to a certain degree, even if only to use the western-scientific terminology to explain a remedy (as Dr. Huang did in discussing the nervous system- though he could have also been referring to an idea that is absent in the English language, like Qi or Shen, and the term, "nervous system" may have only been used in translation for my benefit. I shall never know.) Nearly every time I ask this question about the possibility of integrating western-analytic medicine with holistic approaches, my questionee responds at least somewhat optimistic, if only out of wishfulness. Dr. Huang, however, told me about the Chinese government's attempts in recent years (I suspect as a part of the ruthless desire for a "modern China"- See "This American Life's podcast on "Mr. Daisy and the Apple Factory") to combine TCM and Western medicine. There is a new department at the Yunnan University of Traditional Chinese Medicine (in Kunming) where students spend 2 years studying each medical approach, but in the end, the students must choose a field of medicine. Dr. Huang believes the government's attempt at integration has been a failure, he says they are two completely different paths, different ways of perceiving and understanding the body and the universe; they are incompatible. Regarding the many studies on Qi and the possible therapeutic affects of Taichi (and attempting to explain them), Dr. Huang replied, "you can't use an analytical standard to measure or validate a holistic framework and thought; you will destroy the center, or the soul of it."

______________________

Sitting in the corner of the small office of Yang Laoshi, nearly a week and a half after I started coming to the herbal clinic, it dawns on me: all the patients bring their own charts. I am reminded of my work shadowing a homeopathic doctor in Olympia, Wa. I spent much of my time there organizing patient files and preparing the charts for the doctor. This was the first time I really recognized the huge gap of knowledge between patient and doctor; these charts are nearly impossible to make sense of unless you know exactly what you are looking for (or are an M.D.). The information about the patient's own health might as well be in a foreign language (usually latin..); the patients are effectively illiterate about their health, about their bodies, about whatever a doctor may deem significant to determining their quality of life or quantity of years. This stands in stark contrast to what I see at the Acu/Herbal clinic. Patients carry their own little booklets in which the doctor will scribble the date, symptoms, pattern descriptions, and recommendations, and main acupuncture points used if applicable (the herbal prescription is separate). The patient takes this home with them; keeps his/her own records. The patient is the primary subject, the owner of their own story, literally written in a small book. As I just learned that my grandmother, in New Jersey, was recently admitted into the hospital, I am reminded of the frustration of having to deal with hospital record-keeping, paperwork and bureaucracy. What if we truly were recognized as being the owners of our own stories, respected for our unique subjective experience and validated for our own truths? 

However, I couldn't ignore the contrast of this system of medical literacy and individual access to health records and respect of an individual's story or experience of health or illness, juxtaposed to the denial of access to social/political information, disrespect of individual human rights, subjective story-telling and lack of social media literacy as evidenced by the "Great Firewall of China," (i.e. the reason I haven't been on facebook in nearly two months). 

__________________________ 

As a side-note, there have been fireworks nearly every night (beginning in the late afternoon and ending around 2am) for the past two weeks in anticipation for Chunjie, aka Chinese New Year (but literally translates to "Spring Festival"). I was awoken a week and a half ago on a Thursday night by a particularly loud and nearby barrage of fireworks that sounded loud and explosive enough to frighten me out of bed and to the window, shaking in fear for my life because I thought Kunming was under bomb attack. Yep, Happy Dragon Year!

__________________________ 

as another FYI, here's an overview of my new schedule!

Mon, Fri:

9:30-12:30: Acupuncture clinic with Dr. Huang (the director of the acupuncture clinic, but also a wonderful herbal doctor)

12:30-2ish: lunch break

2:30-5:30ish: Herbal clinic; rounds with a gynecology specialist, a Stomach specialist, a Liver specialist, and a pediatric specialist (note the capital letters!)

Tue, Thurs:

9:30-12: Taichi

12-2ish: lunch break

2:30-5:30ish: Herbal clinic - same rounds

Wed:

9:30-12:30: Acupuncture clinic with Dr. Huang

12:30-2ish: lunch break

2:30-4:30ish: Chinese language class.

Snakes, Circles and Fear

There are different kinds of fear. One kind of fear is useful; its the kind of fear you get when you're about to cross a street and suddenly jump back out of the way of a speeding car. This is the kind of fear we can thank our ancestors and our autonomic nervous system for. But then there's this other kind of fear; this socially taught, culturally biased fear like the fear of failure, or the fear of inadequacy or the fear of fat.

Studies have shown that young girls (as young as 6 years old) are more afraid of becoming fat than they are of war, cancer, or losing a parent, but there is a greater fear hidden behind the fear of fat. Disordered eating, from self-starvation to binge-purge cycles to compulsive overeating, has reached higher numbers than schizophrenia or Alzheimer's disease in the US, though research remains unfunded, treatment is routinely  not covered by insurance and the media continually distorts the image of both sickness and health. What could possibly be keeping our society from recognizing and confronting the issue? 

Author and clinical psychologist, Anita Johnston writes, "It is impossible to discuss the causes of disordered eating without questioning the experience of being female in our society today." It is interesting that on the spectrum of disordered eating, 95% of those struggling are female and it is almost* entirely ignored by healthcare providers, insurance companies and the government. The culture of the Western world has long devalued and undermined the role of the feminine. But let me clarify here. I am not only referring to women. On the contrary, as I've written previously, there is both a yin and a yang within all things including people, therefore it may be that issues of femininity affect those who identify with their yin side more readily. While the large majority of those struggling with disordered eating do identify as female, the 5% who do not are by no means insignificant. The phenomenon of disordered eating is indeed a denial of the feminine forces within and around us, but it is not only a women's issue.

The story we tell as a culture is based on a history of patriarchy, logic and domination. The masculine has been hoisted up on a pedestal, towering over the feminine aspect. We have disowned cyclical nature and emotional or intuitive knowing in favor of linear and analytical thinking, man-made inventions and structures have greater respect than the natural landscape and the goddess has been banished. We have, as a culture, continually denied and pushed the feminine out of our awareness. Thus, we have developed a cultural bias towards a naturally masculine shape of angular bodies and left-brain thinking over emotionality. Indeed, the parts of her body women most frequently cite as their "problem areas," are her belly, hips and thighs- precisely those parts of her body tied indissolubly to the feminine aspect of carrying and sustaining life. We hate our curves because we are taught to value only the linear. We are afraid of fat because we are afraid of the feminine. ("We" meaning ALL of us!)

The words health and whole both stem from the same root. For true healing to occur, we must embrace all aspects of ourselves; the yin and the yang. But that in itself is not enough because we must also recognize that within every yin there is a yang and within every yang there is a yin. Thus, as Rudolph Ballentine writes, "there are four of us in here. Inside me, besides the more apparent phallic/assertive masculine, there is also the more yin testicular. But that's just my first foot forward, my obvious persona, as Jung called our more surface identity. There's also my anima, my feminine side, and it has two aspects, too, the yin passive and nurturing and the yang [feminine]. Somehow I have to coordinate all four. No wonder there is so much confusion about gender roles and sexual identities!"

While I would probably alter his terminology a bit for myself, I think he makes a poignant point. In tantric and yogic vocabulary, the kundalini shakti is the creative feminine force opposing and complementary to shiva. This energy is represented as a snake coiled at the base of the spine; Ballentine continues, "when uncoiled, she will force her way upward, bursting through barriers to stir up feelings, emotion, and creativity, and to give life. She shatters the established order with her thrust toward evolution... Individual fears, social forces, and economic interests converge in an unconscious conspiracy to keep this kundalini shakti pacified- plugged into intoxicating consumerism, drugs, and workaholism- undermining the ecstatic electricity of her unleashed power." This feminine aspect is largely ignored in our society, and when it is recognized, is usually seen as uncivilized or even demonic.

Take a second look at that kundalini image: the snake. What kind of symbolism does the snake image hold for you? If you're like most Westerners, you think of frightening boa constrictors and fatal venom, then you might look a bit deeper and think of the trickery of the snake in the Garden of Eden; and this particular snake's trickery is often paired with the weakness of Eve for giving in to temptation. So the snake's image in modern Western symbolism is a mixture of fear, trickery, and the weak feminine (leading to the idea of a Fall from Grace and initiating the unending quest for salvation).

But remember that our modern Western culture is traced back to the Greeks. In ancient Greek gnostic mythology, there are a couple of snakes worth noting here who have a slightly different story to tell. These snakes are found in the creation myth of gnosticism where the goddess Sophia created a snake named Laldaboath who in turn created Adam and Eve. However, Laldaboath was not nearly as Divine as Sophia and when Adam and Eve began worshipping her, Laldaboath got jealous and forbade them to eat from the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil. Sophia then sent Ophis, another snake who's name means Divine Instructor, to instruct the two to eat of the fruit of the Tree.

I'm not much of a history buff so I don't know how exactly the Gnostic system of though evolved or was lost, but I know that there is little or no remains from this myth in modern Wester mainstream culture. And it's a pity. The trickery, temptation, and fear are only one side of the story; the yang masculine side, not bad in and of itself but unbalanced in the absence of the yin feminine/kundalini shakti. 

There is, however, one remnant of the Greek symbology of the snake in the modern day West: The rod of Asclepius. You would probably recognize this healing symbol, but perhaps don't know the name. This is the famous symbol of a snake winding up a staff; the symbol of medicine, still used ubiquitously in the healthcare industry. The image is strikingly similar to that of the Kundalini snake winding up the spine, and it is in this similarity that we can connect the Divine feminine to spiritual evolution and to healing.

This connection is particularly relevant to the healing process in disordered eating. To reconnect to the feminine force within and around us uniting with the internal masculine energy, allows for balance, growth, and healing. Johnston writes, "when there is balance and these two sides act in concert, we have what is called the "Divine Marriage," where the masculine honors and supports the feminine," and the feminine honors and nourishes the masculine, however, "we live in a society where the balance between the masculine and feminine has not been maintained... this imbalance has been internalized within our psyches... The epidemic of disordered eating... is clearly a consequence of the imbalance between the masculine and the feminine within society and within ourselves. Recovery from disordered eating calls for a deliberate, conscious attempt to reclaim our feminine side so we can bring the masculine side back in balance."

This is not a individual journey. May the growing numbers of people struggling with disordered eating be a call to all of society to bring back the goddess; Put the pieces of the Yin-Yang puzzle back together to integrate our whole selves and make society whole again.

Long Live Ophis!

(un)Learning Anatomy

WHEW! okay, a quick game of catch-up!

Acupuncturists stick tiny needles into acupuncture points (xue), which lie on the meridians, through which Qi flows in order to influence an Organ in a person's body.

What follows is a brief discussion on the TCM anatomy: Qi, meridians, Organs.

No one English word can capture the meaning and nuances of the word Qi. Everything in the universe, organic and inorganic, past and present (and future), is both composed of and defined by its Qi. In his famous book, "The Web That Has No Weaver," Ted Kaptchuck writes, "Qi is not so much a force added to lifeless matter but the state of being of any phenomena... Qi is the pulsation of the cosmos itself." Here we see a difference between the general Darwinian belief that consciousness is the epitome of evolution; a recent development that is bestowed only to the highest evolved creatures; us. But in traditional perspectives; Indian and Chinese included, energy with intention or consciousness of some kind is the basis for the universe, the most elemental aspect in the world as we know it (rather than the atom).

One of the keys of understanding TCM is understanding that the most general interpretation of Qi is by no means the only use of the word. While everything is composed of Qi and everything is connected by Qi, it is also important to take the leap (that I dread) to separating and identifying the various Qis in order to apply the concept to the complex world of healing. The sun has its own Qi, the Earth its own, Water its own, and Wood and Metal their own Qi as well. And just as the universe is made up of these elements, the human body is composed also of these elements and so we, too, have these various Qis within us. In this context however, they are given slightly different names:

Heart Qi (Fire)

Spleen Qi (Earth)

Kidney Qi (Water)

Liver Qi (Wood)

Lung Qi (Metal)

Just as Qi refers not to an entity or a form but to an energy, so too the organ system in TCM is not so concerned with the physical anatomy, or form. This can be dumbfounding for someone grounded in a Newtonian reality, and understandably so. In TCM physiology, each organ (with capital letters) is associated with its meridian (the pathway of Qi), and so represents not just the organ but a whole aspect of human function. In contrast to the Western-scientific medical paradigm, TCM diagnoses and treats (pattern identification, or bian-zheng) based on the energy of symptoms. TCM doctors speak of deficient Spleen Qi, Excessive Kidney Yang, or Heart-Yang rising. These are diagnoses (really called patterns!). But they are also the key to treatment. If you know that your Spleen Qi is deficient, well from there, its easy, you just need to tonify your Spleen Qi, and there are acupuncture points and herbs that do just that. Contrast this with the diagnosis of "functional hypothalmic amennorhoea." I was given this diagnosis last spring, and thankfully, because I know a thing or two about the body, I could parse this out to mean "we (the men in the white coats) don't know why (the "functional" part) your hypothalmus (an endocrine gland of which we also know minuscule amounts) is not operating correctly, causing your menstruation to cease." I was told to take calcium supplements to keep from developing osteoporosis. "Gee... thanks!" Here we see how a diagnosis in the Western medical paradigm can indeed be a dead end (please excuse the pun).

This kind of diagnosis by renaming- diagnosis by translating your symptoms into a dead language (usually latin i.e. laryngitis: inflamed throat, arthritis inflamed joints, eczema; boils/eruptions), serves only to disempower the patient.

Rudolph Ballentine (it may be fair to call him my best friend at this point) writes:

"This re-labeling communicates to the patient not information or insight, but rather the message "you are not in charge of this situation." Renaming is, in effect a ritual use of words. It formalizes a specific kind of relationship between the doctor and the patient. In an almost magical way, it transforms the doctor into the knower and doer, and the patient into the more passive receiver. By pronouncing mysterious medical words, the doctor asserts his knowledge, power, and dominion. If the patient accepts the complementary role, a sort of hypnotism might ensure: "By virtue of this ritual, you are now in control, Doctor. I am a helpless and passive recipient of your powerful interventions. By using a term that is not of my world, you have removed this transaction from the realm of what is knowable to me. I will accept your recommendations unquestioningly. If I were to show doubt or reservations, you would be justified in being indignant for I would have violated this covenant that we are now agreeing upon.""

(can you see why Ballentine in my best friend?)

So next time you go to your doctor with a sore throat and he says you have pharyngitis (or laryngitis), you can tell him/her: "I know, I just told you that

Let's look back at the TCM version of diagnosis-treatment, or pattern identification. As we said, TCM doctors don't spend much time externalizing; that is, they don't try to point a finger at a single causal entity, rather they embrace the whole picture of a person, find the pattern that fits and, follow the map drawn by that pattern back into harmony. This is sort of a glimmer of the yin-yang notion that within the yang is the seed of the yin, within the yin is the seed of the yang: within illness is the seed of health. Thus, "the lines of causality are bent into circles." (Kaptchuck, 144) Chinese medicine "never leaves the realm of signs and symptoms," to seek an externalized disease entity beyond reach not only to patients but also to many physicians ("you have syndrome x, there's nothing we can do.") "During the course of [examination], the physician simultaneously collects, interprets, and organizes signs- a complex, subtle perception that leads to an understanding of the physiological (and energetic) events taking place in the patient's body." Here, however, the physiology that the Chinese physician is examining is a bit different from the physiology of the Western medical system, and the outcome is drastically different. While the Western diagnosis may or may not lead to a treatment, the TCM approach to diagnosis is inseparable from the treatment- it is the roadmap from imbalance to harmony.

Kaptchuck writes, "The "cause" ... is not treated. Instead, the physician treats the approximate pattern generated at the moment by the particular configuration of manifesting signs. There is no "diagnosis," only the patient-physician encounter and therapeutic response."

This is how "functional hypothalmic amennorhoea" becomes "Deficient Spleen Qi." But even here we lose things in translation, as what is normally translated as Spleen, encompasses digestive capacity, blood production, thoughtfulness and ability to concentrate, transformation and transportation, muscle tone, and the root of Qi. You can see how "Spleen" (even with a capital S) doesn't quite communicate that to the Western-newtonian mind, especially considering the fact that Western medicine doesn't actually give much attention to the spleen (little s). Pattern thinking also helps to connect symptoms that in Western medicine would each receive their own diagnoses, and probably their own pills to boot: we can look at my own pattern where "functional hypothalmic amennorhoea," insomnia, history of anorexia nervosa and continuing poor appetite- is included in "Deficient Spleen Qi." And all of a sudden, I can breathe, it seems manageable, and not  only that, but I am gaining tools and understanding to heal myself. What is even cooler than all of this, is the fact that at the clinic where I am shadowing a TCM doctor and acupuncturist (another post on this later because it is WAY cool) they sell acupuncture needles. They sell acupuncture needles to the patients. This means that they are essentially encouraging patients to treat themselves (and they're cheap!). This is an empowering (self-)healing paradigm with the language of diagnosis and treatment methodology to match.

(oh yeah, and after two weeks on Chinese herbs to "tonify my Spleen Qi," I am sleeping better, and have resolved my amennorhoea.)

Happy New Year (to all of you who celebrate the circumcision of Christ)!

**Look out for a post sometime soon on resonance and the acupuncture clinic!

"Wei?" and Yin-Yang Theory

I am on a massage table, face down in the little hole of the table, staring at the floor, thinking, "how in the world did all of this tension get into my body?!" At the moment when I think the massage therapist's fingers have turned into big, strong needles, I hear a vibration from his pant pocket, and the force behind those needles lessens, he pulls one hand away, and, with his phone to his ear, says, "wei?" all the while, the other hand still digging into my muscles. I am reminded of the number of times in India when my yoga instructors answered their phones during asana class, and then I am reminded of the scolding I received in the States from the owner of the yoga studio I was teaching at at the time who received a complaint from one of my students about my texting during the final relaxation portion of the asana class.

Oh, Perspective, you're so funny.
When the student who was so frustrated by the little button-pushing sounds from my phone approached me with his complaint, I tried my best to gracefully accept the criticism, apologize for the disruption it had caused in his relaxation time, and recognize my responsibility for creating the safe space to practice. Then as politely as I could I tried to articulate that the purpose of both the asana and relaxation/meditation practice is, in essence, a kind of rehearsal, cultivating the equanimity to face the challenges and distractions in the real world. Your practice is nothing if it does not help to keep you grounded and equanimous in the face of less than ideal circumstances. (This is not to excuse my rudeness in neglecting that responsibility of creating a peaceful setting for practice- though it was kind of setting the stage for the rehearsal...). I once participated in a Summer Solstice celebration in Times Square, New York, where yoga asana classes were being held throughout the day. 300 -600 yoga mats spread out in the middle of Times Square, attempting to find that inner peace and equanimity amidst all of the horn-honking, neon advertisements several stories high and the general chaos of a city. mantra, so to speak, of the event was, "anyone can find enlightenment at the top of a mountain, can you do it in the middle of Times Square?"

This is the kind of practical, or applied spirituality that really draws me in- it's a kind of challenge that expects you to remain in this world, active in a meaningful way in the chaos of interpersonal relationships, business, politics, and conflict. This kind of practice inherently places value on the physical world of form, as opposed to the ascetic renunciation of all things material, this is a practice that expects one to continue to engage in the material world, despite how challenging it might be. 

But from my experience, this perspective on yoga IS much more of a Western twist on the ancient tradition.

I've now been to six Tai-chi classes at the old zoo in Kunming with Yang laoshi (teacher). Initially, and to a great extent the class still consists much of me watching Mr. Yang and trying my best to reproduce his movements. However, every now and then, when I'm practicing the form, Yang laoshi will stop me in a particular sequence of movements, place his hands on my arms or ask me to place my hands on his arms and tell me to push while he pushes against my force. This force-to force is not exactly "against," though, it's more like redirecting my force and he and I usually end up moving in a circular motion where I am then in a position that allows Yang laoshi to either bend my arm behind my back, chop his hand into my neck or simply push me away to the side (all quite gently). Given the fact that my Chinese language skills are still super minimal, these "push-hand" experiences, as they are called, allow Yang laoshi and I to communicate in a meaningful way with very little spoken language- in fact, our bodies are communicating more directly than our minds. After being punched in the stomach or pushed to the side in push-hand, I have a much more concrete sense in my body of the applicability of these movements; WHY I'm supposed to move my arms in a figure-eight, or WHY my hips should move this way in relation to my shoulders: BECAUSE if I'm being attacked, this is the most efficient way to use my energy either in avoiding a punch, or in executing a counterattack. This energetic/spiritual movement practice is (arguably more than yoga asana is) grounded in physical reality.

The practice mostly stems from Taoism, as does Traditional Chinese Medicine (TCM) and acupuncture; a lineage that is fairly evident in the circular and continuous motions of the Tai-chi form and in the diagnostic and treatment "protocols" (though that's not the best word for it, since it will vary according to each TCM/acupuncture practitioner and each patient). The best way I can articulate the applied Taoism is the phrase, "the dual within the non-dual," which I had heard and read prior to this experience in China, but it only really made intuitive sense to me then (as in, I had a mental inclination toward understanding the phrase) but I can now FEEL the meaning expressed within my body. When practicing the push-hand technique with Yang laoshi or the other students, the need to relax ("fansom," in Chinese) is emphasized greatly. Yang laoshi demonstrates regularly that when a body is tense, it is impossible to move in the fluid way required for the efficiency and circuitousness of the motions- in other words, unless you relax, you're going to be punched in the stomach. This is only sort of counter-intuitive. When you're faced with a situation where you may be attacked, the body's evolved response is the engagement of the autonomic nervous system- Fight or Flight (in this case, but this system is also responsible for the Feast or F**k drives, which, for this reason, can seem just as overwhelming as Fight or Flight), but practicing Tai-chi teaches the body that the best way to handle such a situation (in many cases) is by relaxing that instinct and deliberately responding as opposed to reacting (a distinction made in Buddhist practice as well as some schools of clinical psychology).

Yin-Yang theory (not YAYng, but sort of a cross between young and yawn) is a really beautiful example of how to think about this dual-whithin-the-non-dual-thing. We all know the symbol, right? 

So lets break it down, shall we? Black and white, from the perspective of the color spectrum represent the opposition of fullness and emptiness as black is the absorption of all wavelengths and white is the absence of absorption. However, you could also flip it by saying that black is the absence of reflection white is the reflection of all wavelengths. This is how Lao Tzu, the earliest Taoist sage got away with saying:
   "To be bent is to become straight.
    To be empty is to be full.
    To be worn out is to be renewed.
    To have little is to possess."
(the word "shunyata" expresses the same basic concept in the Buddhist tradition. I think it's a Sanskrit word, but I honestly can't remember. See David L. Loy's "Money, Sex, War, Karma")

This is directly at odds with the cornerstone of most the Western philosophy with Aristotle on one of it's highest pedestals. One of Aristotle's most basic rules about the nature of the universe declares, "the same thing cannot at one and the same time be and not be, or admit any other similar pair of opposites," in other words, A cannot be Not-A. Tai-chi practice flies in the face of Aristotle's "rule." The one allows the other to come into being because they are relative to each other. This is also displayed in the yin-yang symbol with the curved line separating the black and the white. The fact that it is not a straight or rigid division imparts the idea that the two are constantly in flux: always relating to, creating and consuming the other (relaxing when under attack IS the strength needed to defend or counter-attack).

Another principle of yin-yang theory is the lack of absoluteness. You cannot say that anything is absolutely yin or absolutely yang because neither one exist without the other. Something is only yin in relation to something yang. Furthermore, something that would be considered yin also has yang qualities within it. This is seen in the symbol as the little dot of white in the black section and the black dot in the white section. Within the one is the seed of the other (and within the seed of the other is the one, ad infinitum). Again using the same example: the act of relaxing, which would be considered of more yin essence, gives rise to the quick motion of evading a punch or throwing one, an action of more yang essence. Though even the yang movement of evading a punch has the aspect of self protection, which is a more yin property. Get the idea?

Now, to be fair, many of these same principles are found in yogic theory as well. The difference is in the way the principles are applied, but I certainly don't have enough experience with the Tai-chi practice to make a clearcut distinction. And so the journey keeps on keepin' on.

More soon on acupuncture and other Chinese things!

Please Excuse Me While I Have a Conversation with my Piriformis

"The human being is a continuum- there are no tangible frontiers between the... body, mind, and soul."
--

My first yogasana teacher, Denise, used to say, "you may come to yoga class for the yoga-booty, but you come back for something else." There are, undoubtedly, physical benefits from the practice of yogasana, and pranyama (breath control), but what has been glossed over in the States, is the fundamental principles and original intention of these practices. Yoga is, at its core, preparation for meditation; a means for paving the way for introspection and spiritual connection. It is an assumption in the yogic tradition that physical health will be attained along the way to spiritual elevation- they are different stops along the same path, but stopping at the physical benefits is cutting yourself short of the possibility of greater awareness.

--
In his book, Light on Life, B.K.S. Iyengar talks about developing "body intelligence," the capacity for sensitivity, for being aware of both the internal processes of the body and the mind. Every pore of the skin, and every cell in the body becomes an eye looking inward, a way to see yourself as you truly are. Developing this kind of inner awareness is quite contrary to our habitual way of being. People move numbly through the world, going "from bed to car to desk to car to couch to bed, but there is no awareness in their movement, no intelligence. There is no action. Action is movement with intelligence." Learning to live in this way, to be in the world and move with intelligence, we create the momentum of energy for transformation; and not just to transform your body into a stronger, or a leaner body, but to transform your mind from chaos to peace, and to transform our world from destruction and carelessness to deliberate and creative change for the better. This is how yoga can change your mind, and change the world. It is unfortunate that the larger context of a yoga practice (beyond the asanas and the breathing) has been largely ignored in the US and the physical form has taken undue importance. Yoga emphasizes the value of balance, "if you say you are your body, you are wrong. If you say you are not your body, you are also wrong. The truth is that although body is born, lives and dies, you cannot catch a glimpse of the divine except through the body." Both Buddhism and Yogic philosophy have a precept of non-attachment at their core. So we must honor the body, respect it, nourish it and listen to it (limits, and flaws and all), but not become so overly indulgent in the senses, and remain connected to the larger context of which we are a part (community, universe, spirit) so as to create a small distance from the dramas of our everyday lives that threaten to sweep us away and off the path of transformation and radical healing.

Using all the inner eyes of the cells and pores of the skin, we begin to develop a deeply accurate sense of where the body is in space even with the eyes closed (close your eyes and touch your nose with one finger, see how accurate you are). We use the internal sense of self to guide us (connected to the intrinsic muscles of the spine), not only physically, but also through the decisions we make in daily life (do you go for second helpings of the delicious meal you just ate despite being satisfyingly full, or do you respect your body?) Instead of looking at the person next to you in the hatha yoga class to see what the pose "is supposed to look like," you can develop a sense of how to move in your body, into your expression of the pose. You work to deepen the posture to push your limits, and expand your mind's horizons, not to make the pose or the body more beautiful. Though, those are nice perks. I hesitate to call someone a yogi if they do not recognize the importance of this internal looking.
--

I remember a conversation with my father (an electrical engineer, firmly grounded in the Newtonian physical reality) where he challenged me with the question, "if you pass a flame from one torch to the next, is the first flame present in the 100th?" I stood my ground with a positive response, despite his pessimistic statistics claiming that there is only one in such-and-such a chance that any particle from the first flame will be found in the last. I couldn't argue with him in his language of Newtonian physics and math and resorted, unproductively, to my language of energy. The conversation ended with both of us significantly frustrated with the others' lack of insight.
I came across, recently, some writing by Tich Naht Hanh, a fairly well known Vietnamese Buddhist monk and author, and he used a similar metaphor to make the point that without the first flame, none of the other torches would be lit. In Ayurveda, the principle element of fire is responsible for our thoughts (think of the electrical impulses from one neuron to the  next, if you have trouble with thinking of the nature elements inside the body). If you think of lighting a torch as illuminating the mind, and passing the flame as transmitting knowledge, the way a good teacher does, you see how without your teacher's first teacher's first teacher, you could not have the flame of knowledge present in your mind. Take a breath, I know this seems convoluted, but it is actually quite simple. You are inseparable from the net of people around you, your environment, and your past. You are the culmination of all of your experiences, everyone you've known, loved and hated, and all of their experiences. I find that the best teachers, of yoga or otherwise, are the ones who recognize the importance of their context, but these are also the teachers who refuse to call themselves teachers because they have the humility and humbleness to know that their knowledge is only as good as all of their teachers and their teachers' teachers.

So, despite his best efforts to convince me to call him Swamiji, I am now off to China. Maybe I will have better luck in finding a "master," but for the meantime, I will humbly go forth, my Yoga Teacher certification in my back pocket; to continue to learn from my body, a student at heart.

The Priest has Scoliosis

**(First of all, let me apologize for my lack of writing; I have no excuse other than being overwhelmed by inner movement and the incredible book that I just finished.)**
--
As you know, I am engaging in non-traditional higher education by means of Independent Contract work with my professor, much of the lessons I am learning are more of what the traditional higher education folks would call "experiential learning," (as if there is any other way to learn something, than by experiencing it). So, I'd like to introduce this blog post by asking you to do the same.
--
Please, without looking, get a sense of how you are sitting, standing, or lying down. Please do not attempt to change it, just notice. Are your feet on the floor? Do you have more weight on one hip? Are you twisting, even a little? Is your neck at ease? Or are your shoulders reaching for your ears? Do you feel that your chest is open or collapsed? Are you furrowing your eyebrows? (I will admit that I just adjusted my own position while writing these questions) Try not to use your visual cues to judge the symmetry of your position: symmetry is not the ideal- comfort is. Now, wherever you are reading this, relax every muscle as much as you can from the top of your head to each toe. Focus on easy and complete breathing will be helpful here. Take your time, and let yourself just melt for a minute or two. I'll wait.

-
Okay. Now, again without visual cues, sit yourself comfortably, with your spine lengthened up toward the sky without leaning on the back of your chair, chest open, shoulders relaxed. Breath deeply in to your ribcage- let it expand slightly, and exhale fully. Again get a sense of the tension in your body. Are your hip flexors tight (muscles at the top and front of your thighs, near the pelvis) to keep yourself sitting straight? Or are you using your superficial abdominal muscles? Can you tell where in your body the action of "sit straight" originated? Again, breathe steadily, and let go of your efforts to sit perfectly straight. Just be.

--
 The human spine, the basis of our "axial skeleton" evolved from our ancestors to fill the demands of providing a central supportive structure for the individual body, while the upper extremities (i.e. shoulder girdle) originated in structures that were useful in dealing defensively with the outside environment: shoulder "blade." Rudolf Ballentine M.D. says in his (phenomenal) book Radical Healing, "you might say that this axial skeleton is for orienting you in relation to yourself, while the appendicular skeleton is for moving in relation to the world." Often implicated in the metaphors of our everyday lives, the spine, or "backbone," is held in place by the core muscles; the intrinsic muscles of the spine, and is directly connected to the diaphragm (the one we use to breathe). While we, in the US, tend to think of the "core muscles" as being those in the trunk region: the abdominal muscles and maybe the superficial muscles of the back. Those muscles are precisely not what I am referring to, though. Core muscles, in the case of relating most strongly to the spine, are those deep muscles that connect one vertebrae to the next (and the next). This is important because those intrinsic muscles of the spine are much less likely to be influenced by external tension cues than the superficial muscles are. As we said, these internal structures are geared most preferably to relate the body (bodies, really- but we'll get into that in a moment) to itself, while the external muscles handle the outside world. This is why I asked you if you could tell where the action of "sitting straight" originated from: from the external cue, or from your internal sense of being strong and steady and all of the associations we have with the"backbone."

Since yogasanas (the postures) were designed originally as a preparation for meditation, they place particular emphasis on strengthening these core muscles relating to the spine. So what does the spine have to do with meditation? Despite daily reminders from Yogiji about the importance of keeping my spine straight during the hour of morning meditation, he's never given an actual reason for it. However, from what I know about energy work and from my recent readings in Ballentine's book as well as David Frawley's Yoga & Ayurveda and Dr. Vasant Lad's Introduction to Ayurveda, I can tell you this: the ancient yogis identified three nadis (both Hindi and Sanskrit for "river"), or energy channels in the body. One runs up from the base of the spine, along the left side of the spine to the ajna chakra, or the "third eye." Another runs up from the same origin, along the right side of the spine, and meets at ajna as well. The third nadi, representing and manifesting balance and optimal consciousness, runs directly along the spine, meeting the other two at the base of the spine and at ajna. In yogic philosophy, proper meditation allows the energy held at each chakra center (often referred to as Kundalini energy, and depicted as a serpent) to rise up along shushumna nadi (the central energy channel), and raise one's consciousness to eventually merge with Brahman, all-encompassing universal bliss.

Leaving aside the juxtaposition of the image of a serpent for this cosmic energy force with the Judeo-Christian image of a serpent as the representation of evil, you can see the connection between using the muscles most closely related to your internal sense of self and personal perspective aligned with the energy channels and flow of breath through diaphragmatic breathing results in a deep sense of relaxation and inner strength. What's more, is the practical application of integrating those intrinsic core muscles into your daily life. Ballentine says, "A sense of operating from this inner point also prompts you to look at the world from your own perspective, rather than relying on the opinions and suggestions of those around you," essentially, you develop your "backbone."

Furthermore, when thinking about the ability to assume a particular posture, whether that is to touch your toes, or to sit in meditation, or to stand on your head; what may seem like the extent of your body's capabilities may actually be a potent reflection of your emotional and mental states. Bear with me for a second, I know that sounded crazy. You, I'm sure, are familiar with the experience of standing a bit taller, straightening your spine when you needed a boost of courage- well, it's a two-way street. Imagine, if you can, a thin sweater covering each muscle, however small: creating a sort of honeycomb of sheaths with muscle tissue where the honey would be. This connective tissue is called fascia, and acts to provide stability: allowing a limited range of movement outside of habitual or customary positions of your muscles. However, because this system of support only supports habitual movements, it also therefore limits you by de facto to the positions you habitually enter, and thus acts to support only the mental and emotional states that those physical postures support. It's pretty hard to cry when you stand tall with your chest open, no?

--
According to one of my college anatomy professors, 90% of cases of scoliosis is muscular, not structural (meaning- due to habitual movement and thought patterns, or even crooked/disconnected flow of energy along the chakras through the nadis). So when I see that both the priest, who does both the morning and evening puja, and Yogiji have scoliosis, I wonder what is going internally: mentally, energetically, and physically. What has been pulled out of alignment so drastically as to cause sciatic pain in Yogiji (the sciatic nerve is the largest in the body and runs from the sacrum down to the foot; impingement can cause terrible pain down the whole leg; often termed sciatica)? If I were to venture a guess, I might say the the incongruency of being a devoted meditation student of his Guruji and attempting to live the principles of yogic life while simultaneously smoking what I would consider excessive marijuana beyond the purpose of meditation, overeating, neglecting his asana practice and still preaching the precepts in his white yogi clothes has created such a disturbance in his energy flow that his spine has been pulled out of alignment and pinched his sciatic nerve- a sort of wake up call, to which he's been thus far deaf. But that's just my perspective. (It could also be attributed to some of the more physical traumas he's suffered- but this is a two way street and one could easily give rise to the other.)
--

A poem by Brian Andreas:
Impossible yoga position but she likes to have goals that no one else
can imagine
so they'll shut up about how they understand
exactly what she's going through.
--

Okay. that's it for now. I'll be posting again very soon. That's a promise.