Monthly Archives: January 2015

Guy-Wire Grounding for Snowman and Me

inflatablesnowman2Though you might not have guessed it from reading this blog of late, I’m still practicing qigong—pretty faithfully, actually. Most days I do an hour of Yi Ren Qigong, give or take, plus several days a week I do Taiji Qigong and another several, just plain taiji.

I have felt subtle change—a deepening of my energetic experience and perhaps greater emotional strength and stability—but there’s been nothing specific worth writing home about. Or blogging about.

Except now, maybe this:

Several days ago, I discovered that if I stand with my arms at my sides and point sword fingers to earth (the thumb holds ring and pinky fingers down as the index and middle fingers extend), I feel energy welling up through my legs into my body. It’s a bit like being one of those inflatable snowmen people put in their yards at Christmas; when the snowman fills with air it swells and stands tall, yet its guy-wires keep it tethered to the ground, just as the energy from my sword fingers keeps me connected to earth.

I don’t really know what this new experience is, but when it happens and I let myself sink into it, I feel very grounded and strong.

I think this is something that will come in handy.

Dr. Sun (Dr. Guan-Cheng Sun, my qigong teacher and the man who developed the Yi Ren Qigong system) talks about not letting other people’s energies lead your energy—certainly not when you’re teaching but as well in other situations where letting it happen would be to your detriment.

I must lead a pretty sheltered life, because the notion of other people’s energies leading mine hasn’t meant much to me. But a day or so after I began feeling my guy-wire grounding, I had an experience with two men, neither of whom I’d met before, who both threw me way off balance, albeit in opposite directions.

To be fair, I am in the process of selling my house and buying a condo, and my life and I are in such upheaval that it doesn’t take much to throw me off balance, but still it happened, and I did not like it.

I experienced the first man as something like a black hole—very intense and self-contained. I don’t know if he was striving to suck energy in, but he certainly wasn’t giving any out. My response was to try to fill the vacuum, which was hard work—as it always is.

As we were working together, the second man burst upon the scene with something he wanted to tell me about. I experienced him as extremely anxious, and as my own anxiety rose in tandem with his, all I could think was “please go now”—which thankfully he soon did, leaving me with the black hole.

I will work with both of these men again, but next time I will be prepared.

There are other ways to build groundedness and energetic self-protection, but I like the handiness of my guy-wire technique. I just point my index and middle fingers towards the ground and fold the other fingers together—and this can be very subtle—and I let it happen.

I’d say I can hardly wait to try my new technique with these men, but I wouldn’t want to appear childish….

I don’t wish either of them ill; nor do I wish to “mess” with them, for lack of a better term. But I don’t wish myself ill either. I just want energetic integrity and stability, and that is my responsibility, not theirs.

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Hope and Everything

hopeI’ve read another awesome book—this one written by a woman who survived stage 4 lung cancer quite possibly because she harnessed the healing power of love and followed the guidance of meditations where goddesses acted as healers and dancers did the likes of popping bubble wrap on the surface of her lung.

The book, published this fall, is actually two books.

everythingPick it up one way and the cover reads: “Something More Than Hope: Surviving despite the odds, thriving because of them,” by Diana Lindsay.

Turn it upside down and end-for-end, and the cover reads: “Something More Than Everything: A caregiver’s commentary on what went right when life went wrong,” by Diana’s husband Kelly Lindsay, who, she says in her portion of the book, “transformed his love into healing power and saved me.”

Diana was 52 in 2006 when she went to the doctor because of a bad cough, learned she had stage 4 lung cancer,  and was told that 1% of people diagnosed with stage 4 lung cancer survive 5 years. However, she was determined to live, and she threw herself into healing her body with mind and heart wide open.

Shortly afterwards, a friend recommended a technique from Jin Shin Jyutsu, a Japanese healing touch system, that involved the treatment-giver holding a finger from one of Diana’s hands and a toe from her opposite foot until her pulses synched up, and then moving on to the next pair of fingers and toes. Jin Shin started out as a bit of a lark, as something people could do when there didn’t seem to be anything else they could do to help—and then someone noticed that when she was receiving a Jin Shin treatment, Diana stopped coughing. This got everyone’s attention.

Diana decided to let her intuition about the needs of her body be her guide in deciding which alternative healing avenues to pursue, and which western medical treatments to choose. (Among the alternative avenues was Yi Ren Qigong, which is how I met her.)

In “Something More Than Hope,” she shares her journey—the visual-imagery-packed meditations, the summoning of the support of family and friends who were many and willing, the canoe trips and visits to waterfalls when water became prominent in her dreams and meditations, the visit with the Muckleshoot tribal shaman, and on and on—the “everything” to which Kelly refers. Continue reading

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