A memory comes back to me from over 20 years ago, just before my husband and I left California to move to Switzerland. We were in the garden of our Qi Gong/Tai Ji Quan master, Shi Fu Donald practicing Ba Gua Zhang, the Eight Trigrams martial arts form. Shi Fu Donald had instructed us to lay bricks in a form of a circle and we were doing our “circle walking,” which is a core aspect of Ba Gua Zhang, on the bricks. We spent many mornings doing this and of course falling off the bricks. Our Shi Fu did not require any form of penalty for us falling of the bricks, but we however decided that we wanted to motivate ourselves to stay on the bricks. We volunteered 5 push-ups for every time we stepped off the bricks. By the end of the first training, I remember having done something like 50 to 70 push-ups. It was tiring but also a good feeling of achievement. At the end of this training phase, when we moved to Basel, I could walk on bricks with a steadiness and could do push-ups like I never could in all my life; I could push down all the way to the ground and back up with ease for at least 5 repetitions and in multiple sets.

This past January, I got inspired again to start my push-up training beginning with 3 repetitions in 3 sets, with the plan to extend to more repetitions. I have been in the process of training for handstands for a few years now, so I figured having a little more upper body strength would benefit the practice. I am up to 8 repetitions in 3 sets currently.

On my vacation in February, I was on a beach in the south of Spain doing push-ups on the sand. I realized then that I was just going through the repetitions, counting but not really concentrating on my technique to go down all the way to touch the ground. I was holding back on going deep after 2 push-ups, as I knew that to get to 5 and 3 sets to complete would take a lot more strength. This was when I came to the realization that I was not living in the moment. What was the point of fulfilling the numbers but not performing the motion fully? – I asked myself. If my goal was to gain strength, would doing the movement half-way, while thinking about getting to the end of the set be of any use to me. I became aware in the middle of my push-up that it was not. I chanted “stay in the moment” to myself and continued all the way down to touch my forehead to the sand, pushed back up and repeat. After finishing my push-up training, I sat on the beach watching the waves move to shore and away endlessly. I recognized that this was a life lesson from my own body – my intelligent Bodymind.  

What does it help us to go through the motions of life, just counting the days passing but never really living it to the fullest? If I have a purpose for life, what is it? Am I fulfilling it right now? Or am I just counting the repetition of the seasons, wandering aimlessly through space? Why are we waiting for life to come to its end and only then start to live it or regret that we had not lived? It makes no sense. Live now, do what you need to do now because “this too shall pass.”
 
 

Image by Maksim Goncharenok on pexels.com

 
Since 13 years, my family and I have lived in the home we are now at. There is a cherry tree that has stood in the garden for almost 50 years. Ever Spring, we admire it, drink tea and sit under its blossoms, like they do in Japan; this practice is called Hanami. As we do this, we realize that we are not the only ones drawn there, to the beautiful white, pinkish blossoms, with their sweet scent. There is a buzzing hum, a vibration around this tree. As we look closely at it, we sense another presence – the bees and possibly other insects. They have also been attracted to this tree like us. The bees are busy, hovering over the blossoms doing their thing. This makes me realize how limited I am as a human being, imagining that this cherry tree is just simply an object. It is so much more - this cherry tree is an environment in itself.

Chapter 11 of the Dao De Jing (also spelled Tao Te Ching) states:

“We join spokes together in a wheel,
but it is the center hole
that makes the wagon move.
We shape clay into a pot,
But it is the emptiness inside
That holds whatever we want.
We hammer wood for a house,
But it is the inner space
That makes it livable.
We work with being,
But non-being is what we use.”

These wise words of Lao Zi often come to me when I contemplate space. In our modern world, we are so preoccupied with stuff, things, material, that we often forget to look in the spaces in and around the stuff, which actually are essential in the creation of the stuff. We become so obsessed with the object that we forget that without these spaces, there wouldn’t be the object.

This awareness of space is especially manifested in Chinese Medicine in its definition of the Sān Jiāo, Triple Burner, which is one of its 6 Yang organs. In the Western view there exists no such organ. The Chinese define this organ also as an “avenue for the Original Qi” and as “the three divisions of the body.” Sān Jiāo is considered one of the 6 Fu organs, which are in charge of transmitting and moving substance through them. Sometimes Fu organs are also defined as hollow organs; thus, they are space creators.

Chinese Medical diagnosis views the body as a “terrain,” an environment. Dr. Leon Hammer describes how his teacher, Dr. Shen used the analogy of a car to describe the body and how our body is a terrain:

“We are not all born equal. We each have a different quality of car: the interplay of genetics and the exigencies of conception, intrauterine environment and birth. This is our terrain, upon which the stress of life plays out. Terrain represents the totality of an organism, from what is created, to what is done with that creation, through the entirety of life, in all dimensions: physical, mental, emotional and spiritual.”  

As the sunlight shines in this phase of the Spring Equinox, I will look/sense the cherry tree in my garden and the space that surrounds it with renewed respect. I will remember that the cherry tree exists because of the space that holds it - above, below and all around. Just as I exist because of the space that holds me and within me that creates my internal universe.
 
 
 


References
Hammer, Leon I., M.D., Nash, Oliver. (2017). Contemporary Oriental Medicine Concepts. Gainesville, FL, USA: The Contemporary Oriental Medical Foundation.

Lao-Tzu, translated by Stephen Mitchell. (1988). Tao Te Ching, The Book of the Way. London, UK: Kyle Books.

Maciocia, Giovanni. (1989). The Foundations of Chinese Medicine. London, UK: Churchill Livingstone.
 
 

 
Image by GuangWu YANG from Pixabay

Before I moved to a place with 4 seasons, that was about 30 years ago to go to university, I had only heard of them but never really experienced them; I had moved away from the equatorial tropics, where there is only really 2 seasons - warm dry and warm rainy seasons. I only then became aware of the distinct differences each season presents. Many would describe that there are 4 seasons. But as I got to studying Chinese Medicine, we were made aware of a fifth: Late Summer. This is a season where plants and trees come to fruition, like summer squash, early apple and pear, or nuts. In the USA, people sometimes called it Indian Summer, what I have come to understand as a time of mild weather before the cold of Autumn sets in, which was first observed by the Native Americans. I have come to know of it here in Switzerland as Altweibersommer. But what has revealed itself to me is that this Earth element season is also the time that manifests between seasons; a transition time to create a smooth flow from one season to the next.

The Japanese call it the Doyo period: it is defined as the 18 days before the season changes at the Equinoxes and the Solstices. Through the sharing of ancient Chinese philosophy and medical knowledge with the Japanese, they began to interpret and observe Nature around them through this lens. The Japanese, like the Chinese, observed a distinct period of time between these celestial events that we experience on Earth in relation to the Sun. These Doyo periods often bring a mildness to the climate, a warming that would signify that a change is coming. This is what we are experiencing here right now and in many other places in the world. In fact, we humans have affected our environment so strongly that I believe the Doyo period is beginning to extend longer than the 18 days, sometimes going on for a month or more, that we all, humans, animals and plants, get so confused to the point that we don’t know head from tail anymore; for instance, 18 degrees Celsius here in the Basel area in late December not so long ago, made plants and animals come out of hibernation too early, not to mention us humans getting unusual viral infections.





Chinese medical philosophy tells us that this is the time of Earth element. The binding element that allows for smooth transition into the next phase. It is linked to the color yellow, the organs of Spleen, Stomach and Pancreas; the organs of our Center. These organs are responsible for transforming food, through the action of digestion, into Qi and Blood, our resources for life, as well as transporting fluid and vital substances around the body. The tissues of the body that reveal the Earth’s energy are muscles, and the orifice is the mouth, including the lips. Makes sense, doesn’t it?  The place where nourishment comes into the body and the sounds of singing that come out of the body, are actions of Earth that occur through the mouth and lips.

The emotion associated with the Earth is a pensiveness, being thoughtful of people, beings and situations around us; this is when our Earth element is in balance. An imbalanced expression reveals worry, where thoughts churns around in us in circles, never finding a place of calmness. The Spleen is the seat of Thought and Intention, Yì. Hence, we are reminded that our consumption of information, digital or print or in any other form, also needs to be digested by our Earth organs energetically. What happens when our digestive system is overwhelmed by junk food? We get constipation or diarrhea. What happens when our Spleen is overwhelmed by news and information? Probably “thought constipation,” or what I used to tell my kids when they were binge watching on their mobile phones, "digital diarrhea," or other digestive problems, ruminating through our body-minds in the middle of the night.

The flavor of the Earth phase is sweetness, the taste of mammalian life’s ultimate nourishment - Mother’s milk. And furthermore, the sweetness of Mother Earth’s produce, like a crunchy, juicy red apple or a soft, moist orange sweet potato, nourishes us with a wholesomeness that no artificial, factory-made substance can. On the subject of Mother (human and Earth, respectively), there is an action of transformation constantly happening in our everyday life without us ever acknowledging it; the transformation from fruit/vegetable/grain/meat into food in our kitchens and ending up as meals on our dinner tables, as well as those from food to compost in the Earth, enriching the soil for the next year’s planting. Mother Nature is intelligent, there is no wastage; just the cycle of life, death, rebirth, transforming from one to another and beginning all over again.

It is now the time to give the space for transformation; let go of what we don’t need, this may include food or media consumption, but also thoughts and things that don’t nourish us. When we start to honor transformation, we can embrace change and we can mature; like the plump caterpillar metamorphosizing into a butterfly.
 
 
 

Image 5 Element Doyo by Elaine
Image butterfly cocoon by GLady from Pixabay