Kenneth S. Cohen's Blog, page 2

Mad About Mud

©2021 Kenneth S. Cohen

Healing Clays

Many years ago, I took classes with an outstanding Daoist and doctor of Chinese medicine, Dr. Stephen Chang, whose ancestors were physicians to Qing Dynasty Emperors. One of the treasures I learned about was Jade Cream, a healing and cosmetic cream that includes Jade, Myrrh, Pearls, Zicao (lithospermum), Sesame Oil, and other ingredients. Dr. Chang explained that the ingredients only combine harmoniously and produce the best qi (healing energy) during particular phases of the moon. I love these kind of creams, and have made my own using a base of beeswax and olive oil.

Daoists also use hot springs and naturally occurring healing mud to improve skin health. I once met a Daoist martial arts master who recounted an interesting part of his training that occurred in the late 1930s. His master brought him to an almost scalding hot hot springs. After bathing, the master covered the young boy’s body with a healing and strengthening mud 藥泥. The “new skin” resulting from that treatment conditioned him against injury and bruising.

Healing muds or clays (both called yao ni 藥泥) are so filled with qi that Daoist alchemists often used them to coat the inside and outside of alchemical containers, pots, or cauldrons. Probably the most famous of these is the Six and One Clay六一泥 mentioned in “A Great Anthology of the Golden Elixir” 金丹大成集 written by Xiao Tingzhi 蕭廷芝 around 1260. The mixture included alum, Turkestan rock salt, lake salt, arsenolite, oyster shells, red clay, and talc. Not something, by the way, that I would recommend, as the arsenic in arsenolite is highly toxic and would bring one to the heavenly realm within a very short period of time!

Colorism and Clays

Salves, ointments, lotions, creams, masks, and liniments are common in Chinese medicine, and their history keeps getting pushed back in time. In early February 2021, the distinguished science journal Nature reported the discovery of a 2,700 years old bronze jar that contained China’s earliest known cosmetic cream, made from beef fat and ground stalactite from caves (also known as calcite or calcium carbonate). The combination probably removed excess fat and oil, smoothed the skin, and reduced wrinkles and blemishes-- calcite is used in some modern acne creams.

However, scholars also noted that calcite was a whitening agent, and it is likely that the Chinese aristocracy reinforced their status and their difference from the common, well-tanned farmers, by whitening their skin. Skin lightening creams, sold as “beauty” products, are still immensely popular in Asian countries. The World Health Organization reports that at least 50% of the populations of Korea, Malaysia, the Philippines, and India use skin bleaching or lightening products.

I find skin whitening agents bizarre and disturbing. Yes, beauty may be in the eye of the beholder, but the emphasis on whiteness—then as now—reinforces racist attitudes and biased policies, further demeaning people of color and reducing opportunities for equal education, employment, income, housing, and quality of life.

References

https://www.nature.com/articles/d41586-021-00346-yS

https://www.smithsonianmag.com/smart-news/archaeologists-find-2700-year-old-facial-cream-180976973/

https://www.vogue.com/article/skin-lightening-risks-asian-beauty-market

Teaching Qigong Online: Zooming in on the Virtual Classroom

©2021 Kenneth S. Cohen

An earlier version of this essay was published in

Qi: The Journal of Traditional Eastern Health & Fitness 30:3 (Autumn 2020).

I have never been a fan of online learning, and until the coronavirus pandemic had never been willing to offer online classes. But you know what they say: never say “never.” My hesitation has been based on some core beliefs that I still hold:

1. It is only possible to learn Qigong and Wu Shu (Chinese martial arts) accurately in person. Over the long term, online learning is likely to cause the loss, misrepresentation, and deterioration of these ancient cultural traditions.

2. The online environment fosters a lack of accountability to a particular teacher or school. Although this appeals to independent-minded Americans, learning is enhanced through in-person and not virtual communities as well as ongoing association with a Shifu (Master Teacher).

3. The existence of a technology does not mean that it is in our best interests to use it. Rather, I advocate the “precautionary principle”— carefully assess the risks and benefits of a technology before investing yourself, including time and money, in its implementation.

Yet, although online learning is not ideal, it is what is needed and a way for teachers to be of service during these times. Here are my thoughts on the pros and cons of teaching and learning qigong and related arts in online meetings or webinars.

Negative Side

Nothing can substitute for in person learning. In person learning means students can see me and I can see them from three dimensions rather than looking at two- dimensional images on a computer screen.

In person students have earned what they learned-- there is some sacrifice in time and making the journey for training, and thus they are more attentive and more likely to retain information.

There is something about online learning that makes it more like watching TV. In a real qigong or martial arts class, students feel comfortable spending fifteen minutes practicing on their own or in small practice groups, rather than needing to constantly receive input (again, like television). Online learning is passive rather than interactive.

Because of the solitary nature of online learning, it may increase narcissism and goes against our ancient, genetically programmed need to learn in small group or community settings. Darwin’s “survival of the fittest” was a reductionistic and false view of evolution. As reported in Science Daily and many other journals, “Cooperation, not struggle for survival, drives evolution.” https://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2016/05/160512100708.htm

Another deficit in online learning is the lack of continuing supervision and oversight by a teacher as well as lack of accountability to a particular teacher, lineage, and school. Long established protocols that assure accurate and ethical transmission through the generations are broken. Online learners may be independent and on their own, but, in my opinion, they are too independent. Here is an example that I find personally disheartening. Some students take a single two-hour introductory qigong webinar about a particular qigong style and then, within a week or two, post youtube demonstrations and offer classes in that style. I am reminded of a Chinese saying 畫虎類犬 huà hǔ lèi qǔan “If you draw a tiger poorly, it looks like a dog.” Dedication, patience, and practice guided by a great teacher or coach are the keys to success. There is no shortcut.

We also need to remember that electromagnetic fields (EMF) from laptops, tablets, and cell phones weakens qi, harms DNA, and has adverse immunological and neurological effects. The harm caused by repeated or prolonged exposure is cumulative and reduces the body’s resilience and ability to adapt to environmental stresses. As Martin Blank, Ph.D. writes in his excellent work Overpowered, “The type of cellular damage caused by EMF is similar to that caused by aging. The residual errors and genetic mutations accumulate, leading to malfunction and disease.” (p.63) These effects are greatly mitigated when we are at a distance from the devices, which is true for most practice-oriented classes.

In person I can ask a student to hold a posture as I walk around him/her to adjust alignment and positioning of hands and feet. This is far more efficient than asking students to angle the camera slightly up (to see above the head) or down (to better see the feet), to stand closer or further away from the camera, or to turn various directions. It is also far easier to catch subtleties such as discomfort communicated through body language or the health of a student’s qi field when the student is actually present.

Tactile learning, that is learning through lightly touching various areas or asking a student to lightly place a palm on the teacher’s shoulders, back, or abdomen, while not orthodox in China, is a powerful way to immediately communicate qigong skills. This is obviously impossible online. While practicing Bagua Zhang in the 1970s, my teacher, B.P. Chan, would sometimes place one of his hands on my sacrum and the other on my kua, the crease between my thigh and hip and then follow me as I “walked the circle.” The challenge was to continue moving without rising up or down, maintaining a straight lower back, and the kua constantly released and sunk, as though sitting into the hips. With his hands in place, I realized how much I had been previously deluding myself, thinking that I had been correctly following his demonstration and verbal instructions. Unable to return to my comfortable bad habits, my legs were on fire. Then Chan asked me to place my hands on his own back and hips. I could feel, with my hands, that he was a moving mountain.

Tactile learning is even more important in the more advanced and subtle aspects of practice, especially those that involve breathing. For example, renowned Tai Chi Master T. T. Liang shared a great insight, “Here’s how you tell if someone has achieved a certain level in Tai Chi.” He asked me place one palm on his lower abdomen and my other palm on his lower back to sense the movement in his dan tian (lower abdominal energy center). As he breathed, I felt like a balloon was expanding and contracting between my hands, with nearly equal movement in the front and the back! Now I had a goal as I practiced dan tian breathing. And one more example: I never would have understood the term song chen, “relax and sink” if my teacher, Madame Gao Fu, had not allowed me to place a hand on her shoulder and another on her sacrum as she invisibly sunk the qi downwards, with no outwards physical movement. None of these skills can be learned online.

The fatigue factor: Online learning is tiring in comparison to in person. Many virtual classroom experts note that one to two hours is the attention limit for a seminar. Qigong intensives have to be spread out over several days or weeks rather than a 9 am-5 pm weekend seminar. By comparison when I teach a three hour in person session, we can take a brief mid-class break for tea and discussion and then continue refreshed. And we might enjoy a festive group meal after class.

Related to this, it is much more difficult to cultivate qi and feel energized both during and after an online class. During in-person classes, we train together. A significant portion of the class consists of practice and repetition, so that the techniques become part of body memory. But in an online class, because of fixed cameras, one needs to interrupt training to change position, angle, and distance from the camera. “Would you please move closer to the camera, so I can see the distance between your heels? Please stand sideways so I can check if you are correctly massaging the gall bladder meridian.” And so on. This becomes even more challenging when teaching Tai Chi Sword, since the blade is so thin that it is sometimes impossible to see the angle of the blade.

Online students are limited by logistical factors such as the strength and speed of their wifi or mobile signal and the acoustics in the practice space. As a result, the great majority of virtual qigong classrooms are indoors. Although students are certainly encouraged to practice outdoors whenever convenient, both teachers and students miss the group outdoor experience.

Outdoor classes enhance qigong benefits, especially connection with and support from the qi field of earth, grass, trees, sky, sunshine and other natural elements. Medical science confirms that outdoor exercise is better for you. The body produces its optimal level of Vitamin D with just an hour of mid-day sunshine, which reduces depression and disease risk. A varied outdoor terrain creates opportunities to improve balance and coordination. And although we appreciate thermostats, the body’s inner thermostat –its ability to regulate and respond to changes in temperature—is primed by exercise outdoors. Important hormones respond to the outdoor environment, including melatonin, dopamine, serotonin, and the body’s good mood chemicals: the endorphins.

I am certainly not saying that it is always best to practice outdoors. Chinese medicine warns against the “external pernicious influences,” the pathogenic effects of heat, cold, wind, damp, dry and summer heat. I personally don’t enjoy outdoor practice when it is hot and humid or when I am providing a feast for mosquitoes. Yet, in general, outdoor practice is more inspiring for everybody.

Positive Side

On the other hand, there are positives. I am enjoying teaching low-cost programs (thanks to reduced overhead) that can reach many distant students. About 1/3 of my students in group or private online classes have attended from as far away as England, Germany, India, Taiwan, South America, Australia, Africa, and New Zealand. This makes a rich and diverse learning environment. Many of the participants would not have the opportunity (or financial means) to learn qigong if not for these classes. No need for airfare, lodging, and expensive retreat center tuition.

The online venue also allows me to present slide shows, photos, and film clips through screen sharing. This gives students access to information that I had previously only offered to cultural organizations, medical schools and conferences. The latter are often cost-prohibitive for the general public. Additionally, some in-person venues, including churches and smaller retreat centers, do not have the projectors, screen, or a practical space for viewing images. A virtual space solves the problem.

I have learned a whole new set of skills to teach these arts online, including room set up, lighting, audio requirements, camera height and angle, cabling to a large screen monitor for more detailed and helpful instruction, and how to demonstrate from various positions, angles and distances so that students can learn details (such as heel or toe pivot, distance of arms from the body, height of the hands, distance between feet, weight distribution, coordination of body parts, etc.). Although an online class is not the best situation for personal qi cultivation, students leave the class with lots of homework and tools to improve their level of skill.

To my surprise and delight I have even been able to teach beginners methods that I thought would be impossible online, such the complex and intricate choreography of Chen Style Tai Chi (Taijiquan). Of course, this requires that students have a high level of dedication and patience. It generally takes about 6 months of weekly private classes to learn the entire Chen Style form.

As an online teacher I can put a group class on mute so that students do not distract themselves and others with questions that take time away from practice. I can field questions through the chat function in order to answer the ones that are the most helpful and of most general interest. Questioning and critical thinking are important, but unfortunately many Americans use questioning as an excuse to avoid practice. It is a delicate balance.

There is also an unexpected bright side to not having a physical teacher present, whether for demonstration or what I earlier called “tactile learning.” Students cannot as easily or blindly “follow the leader” and try to learn only through imitation. They are forced to reflect, practice, and self-correct. They know that they will not achieve skill (gong) without a great deal of practice.

Some students even discover that they learn certain aspects of qigong more easily in the virtual classroom. In an online group class, each student has the teacher all to themselves. Though they are welcome to put their device in “gallery view” in order to see how each person in a group is practicing, most will let the image of the teacher fill the screen. As one of my students put it, “I no longer have an obstructed or partial view of you because of needing to look over people’s heads or because of where I am standing in the classroom. Now, I can see the height of your arms, the angle of your feet, and other subtleties such as whether to pivot on the toe or heel, rather than relying, at times, on verbal descriptions.”

I have been personally inspired by positive feedback after the classes. Though this luddite hates to admit it, we are all enjoying the experience. One European student with COVID-19 even remarked that qigong had the strongest effect on reducing her symptoms ("Each time I practice it is like taking a magic pill, and I feel better all day."). Qigong and Daoism are based on adaptability, “going with the flow”. As we face changes wrought by the pandemic, online classes are a necessary adaptation.

Teaching and sharing qigong, even online, is a good reminder that when we help others, we help ourselves; we are lifted out of personal preoccupation and worries and find new meaning and purpose. President John F. Kennedy got it right, “Ask not what your country can do for you; ask what you can do for your country.” Altruism is good for health. At the entrance to China’s Bama Longevity Village, known for its concentration of centenarians, there is a famous inscription, “Only the kind live long.”

The Corona Virus Pandemic: Insights from Taoism and Qigong

Photo by Chiang Ying-ying/ Associated Press, worshipers at the Xing Tian Taoist Temple, Taipei, Taiwan. Text ©Kenneth S. Cohen 2020

The Pattern of the Stars

The novel coronavirus developed during the last quarter of the year of the Earth Pig. In the Chinese calendar, each year has a heavenly element which relates to the mind and spirituality and an earthly element, which influences our homes, environment, economy, and physical body. The prediction for the Earth Pig Year was a conflict between the heavenly element (Earth) and the earthly element (Pig = water). Earth absorbs water, which means that they are considered mutually destructive or controlling (xiang ke) rather than constructive (xiang sheng). In this configuration, the energies of the earthly element are being depleted—again water is being absorbed by earth. To put it simply, the year of the Earth Pig suggested weakening of home, environment, economy, and health.

Let’s look at these elements as they relate to the internal organs. Earth is expressed in the body as the spleen. Water relates to the kidneys. Earth absorbs water; spleen becomes congested and the body’s core reserves stored in the kidneys are depleted. Another way to express this in terms of classical Five Phase (Wu Xing) Theory is that a deficiency in one organ causes its controlling organ to become excess. Hence, deficient kidney water leads to excess spleen earth.

Moreover, the burden placed on the earth imbalances metal because metal is mined from the earth. In the body, metal means both the lungs and large intestine. If earth (spleen) is afflicted, it cannot feed its child metal or the lungs. And if lungs are deficient, then the paired yang organ—the large intestines—becomes excess. These two organs are in a see-saw relationship; when one organ is up, the other is down. As expected, as the lungs weaken, there are gastrointestinal effects.

Thus, the energies of 2019, the start of the epidemic, suggested problems with spleen (earth), possibly causing dampness, the internal condition associated with spleen pathology as well as depletion of kidney water and imbalances in the lungs/large intestine. Not surprisingly, opinions among both front line TCM doctors in China as well as Classical Chinese Medicine clinicians and theoreticians elsewhere is that COVID-19 falls into two diagnostic categories.

First, it is a damp febrile (fever causing) epidemic 濕瘟. More specifically it is a condition of damp toxicity 濕毒 in which the initial dry cough masks an obstructive accumulation of sticky phlegm in the lungs. As the disease progresses it moves more deeply into the body as a smoldering heat and stagnation, with increasing depletion of kidney and lung yin and a general weakening effect on the qi.

The diagnostic category du (toxicity or poison) suggests that the invading force or pathogen is especially severe, and when combined with dampness the disease tends to linger and is difficult to remove. It has been described as oil that has seeped into flour.

Advice from the Yi Jing

The Yi Jing 易經 is an extraordinary guide for understanding the seeds of change, avoiding chaos, and navigating dangerous waters if a storm hits. It is perhaps the most relevant Daoist text for these times, whether read for its philosophy or consulted in divination. Let me give you a personal example:

At the very beginning of March, 2020 when there were only 89 cases of coronavirus in the entire United States, I consulted the Yi Jing about a two- week teaching trip planned for Ottawa, Ontario, Canada that would begin on March 30. Tickets had already been purchased, but I was feeling uneasy about something.

After the appropriate ritual of incense lighting and bows, I tossed three coins six times, which yielded Hexagram 39 Jian 蹇, Adversity or Hardship. To interpret the answer, my Yi Jing Masters taught me to first study the etymology of the name of the chapter, then analyze the meaning of the two major images (gua) represented in the hexagram, including texts and commentary attached to the imagery and finally read the overall, general answer, sometimes called the “judgement.” Let’s look at each.

1. The name of the hexagram. The word Jian is a picture of a person seeking shelter at home, wanting to walk (seen in the “foot” radical at the base of the character), but unable because he/she is hobbled and supported by two crutches. Each line of this chapter speaks of hardship and an inability to move forward.

2. The imagery. The images are water and mountain. Water suggests danger and the unknown; the mountain means stillness, not moving. But these two images also represent the difficulty of a journey that crosses rivers and mountains, as my flight from California would have required. The text says, “The noble person turns inward and cultivates virtue.”

3. The judgement advises “Advantageous: the southwest. Disadvantage in the Northeast.” Since I was in the southwestern portion of the U.S. and asking about traveling to the Northeast (Ottawa), the answer was clear.

After reading this general answer, the Yi Jing reinforced the message with three further commentaries on lines four, five and six, followed by a prognosis, that is, an indication of where the situation would be headed in the near future.

The prognostic hexagram was number 33, Dun 遯, Retreat. The components of the Chinese character include the word “to stop” combined with a hand making a sacrificial offering of pork. In other words, don’t travel. The sacrifice is both the loss of income and the necessity to use the time of retreat for spiritual and ritual practices. Dun is symbolized by the sky or heaven (strength, spirituality) above the mountain (stillness) below. Find strength in stillness. The judgement delivers the same message.

But here’s the clincher: the ancient commentary on the image is 天下有山，遯；君子以遠小人，不·惡而嚴。 “Under the sky is the mountain. Retreat. In accord with this, the noble person keeps small people at a distance, not out of animosity but with dignity.” In other words, practice social distancing!

Needless to say, I cancelled the trip immediately.

Connection to Climate Change

"I don't think anyone who thinks hard about how one tiny microscopic virus has brought the whole of humanity to its knees can be indifferent to nature anymore. So this is going to make us more sensitive to issues like climate change.”—Rabbi Lord Jonathan Sacks (Member of the British Parliament) https://www.youtube.com/watch?time_co...

I hope that the last part of Rabbi Sacks’ statement is true. Doctors of Chinese Medicine do believe that the sudden appearance and spread of the virus is linked with climate change and the unusually warm early winter of 2019 in Wuhan. (This is not to deny the disastrous effect of delay in Chinese government response and initial lack of social distancing.) 60% of current infectious diseases are zoonotic (originally caused by human/animal interaction) and 75% of emerging infectious diseases are zoonotic. Such diseases are increasing not only from unsanitary conditions at meat markets and feed lots, but because of loss of animal habitat due to climate change and human greed.

Even more ominous, as ice, permafrost, and glaciers melt, ancient viruses become active again and have already infected people. Human beings have no resistance to these pathogens. It sounds like a scary science fiction movie, but the situation is real and supported by hard science.

Viruses are about 1.5 billion years old; and if survival and adaptability are signs of power, then human beings are weaklings by comparison. Luckily our immune systems have some memory and intelligence, and so we develop resistance to viruses that have been part of our recent biological history (whether through exposure or vaccination). However, both ancient viruses and new viruses are emerging, and COVID-19 is just one of them.

Why Practice Qigong?

1. The most important reason to practice qigong is that it reduces stress, which may improve immune function, respiration, sleep, and decision making.

2. The belief that you can better manage your own health—an aspect of “self-efficacy”—is the opposite of helplessness and hopelessness. It improves treatment outcome from many diseases and is linked with health-promoting behavior.

3. Qigong increases resilience, the ability to “spring back” after a physical or emotional challenge.

4. Various studies, such as those cited in references at the end of this paper, demonstrate direct effects on the immune system.

5. Qigong increases compassion and sense of connection with the forces of life (qi). Kindness is highly contagious and increases the chances of survival for all.

Appropriate Practices

“The essential nature of the disease can thus be described as a complex fusion of damp (shi), toxicity (du), heat (re) and stagnation (yu).” https://classicalchinesemedicine.org/...

The Qigong routine I recommend for energy balance is the following, practiced in the order below:

1. Liu Qi Fa 六氣法, also known as the Healing Sounds, to harmonize liver, heart, spleen, lungs, and kidneys. Benefits attributed to this practice include reducing phlegm and dispersing toxicity.

2. Standing Meditation to maintain a strong reserve of qi

3. Pi Quan 劈拳 (“Splitting”, the metal element movement from Xingyi Quan 形意拳) is an ideal practice because of its direct effect on the lungs and the vigorous push from the feet, stimulating kidneys and spleen. And because Pi Quan is dynamic and builds fitness, it can help reduce stagnation while improving stamina and resilience.

4. Self-Massage including Pai Da 排打 (Percussive techniques such as light slapping or tapping) to disperse stagnation.

Also excellent are Hunyuan Gong 混元養生功 (Primordial Qigong) and the Five Animal Frolics 華佗五禽戲. This is not, of course, an exhaustive list. There are many other appropriate qigong styles. During the height of the outbreak in Wuhan, both doctors and patients were practicing the Eight Brocades 八段錦 as adjunctive and preventive therapy.

However, if someone already has the virus, some qigong methods may be too warming, difficult, or taxing except during rehab. When confronted with acute conditions, the emphasis should be on extremely gentle and nourishing methods, such as Inner Nourishing Qigong (Nei Yang Gong 內養功) and Qigong Healing Imagery.

Qigong for Social Isolation

During times of social distancing it is especially important to connect with nature and sense the comforting and supportive qualities of the earth. Practice absorbing qi from the sun and moon and circulating qi with trees. From a western perspective being outdoors has a great added benefit—increase in Vitamin D, which has been shown to prevent viral replication and modulate inflammation and immune response. It is important to note that for maximum energetic and spiritual benefit from qigong, it is best to practice at sunrise. However, the highest levels of Vitamin D absorption occur at midday. Studies have shown that 30 minutes of mid-day sun is equivalent to consuming approximately 10,000 IU of Vitamin D.

I am often asked about the benefits of outdoor practice in polluted cities. Pollution and smoking have especially dangerous effects on a person’s reaction to COVID-19. As an immunologist colleague shared recently, carbon particulates in smoke, air pollution, and even incense bond with and may deactivate the chemicals that protect the body against the virus. Yet, even in a polluted city, nature and sunlight have such healing benefits, that, unless you have medical advice to the contrary, it is still important to spend some time outdoors, perhaps in a park, even if you have to wear a face mask.

This is just an outline of a few aspects of Taoism and Qigong that may be helpful. Other principles of the Taoist lifestyle include maintaining emotional calm, living with virtue and integrity, reading poetry, and eating healthy. Taoist dietetics is based on common sense principles such as fresh, seasonal, local, organic, sustainably produced, balanced nutrition, moderation, and the use of adaptogenic herbs, especially tea, camellia sinensis.

The core of the Taoist and Qigong approach to well-being is best summarized in in Lao Zi’s 5th Century BCE classic, the Tao Te Ching, 人法地；地法天；天法道；道法自然。“People follow the earth. Earth follows heaven. Heaven follows the Tao. And the Tao follows nature.” Lao Zi is advising us to pay attention to nature, the stars (“Heaven”), our spirituality, and connections to all of life (the Tao).

Resources

https://classicalchinesemedicine.org/tag/covid-19/

http://www.bbc.com/earth/story/20170504-there-are-diseases-hidden-in-ice-and-they-are-waking-up

For a sampling of published research on immunological effects of qigong, see

Acute Effects on the Counts of Innate and Adaptive Immune Response Cells After 1 Month of Taoist Qigong Practice https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pubmed/26370102

Effects of Qigong on Immune Cells https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pubmed/12856872

A Pilot Study of Qigong Practice and Upper Respiratory Illness in Elite Swimmers

https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pubmed/21598415

Qi-Training (Qigong) Enhanced Immune Functions: What is the Underlying Mechanism?

https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pubmed/1...

This information in this essay and reference list is for educational purposes only. The author is not a physician or licensed health care provider. To prevent and treat the disease, all CDC (Centers for Disease Control) and medical advice should be strictly followed.

Don't Go To Extremes

©Kenneth Cohen 2019

“A person of old has said, 'First your thoughts stop. Second, your breathing stops. Third, your pulse

stops. Fourth, there is complete extinction.' You enter into the great meditative trance and do not interact at all with things, [much like] the ancient awl of 700-years.”

Translation by Professor Stephen Eskildsen

Considering the central importance of moderation in Daoism, how are we to understand this saying of esteemed Daoist Chiu Chuji (1148-1227), also known as The Master of Eternal Spring, Chang Chun Zi? (Chiu was the founder of the most famous branch of Daoism in China: Quanzhen. It was partially because of Chiu’s influence on Genghis Khan, ruler of Mongol-controlled China, that mass killing ceased and Daoism was preserved.)

Both Buddhists and Daoists have stories of Masters who achieve this state of hibernation (perhaps, “suspended animation” is closer). In one, government officials discover Buddhist Master Huichi in a trance, his body covered by hair and his nails so long that they encircled his body. He was brought back to life when a monk rang a temple gong, at which point he asked, “What era is this?” Huichi had been hibernating for 700 years.

My Interpretation

It is important to remember that there is an ancient Chinese literary tradition of exaggeration in order to illustrate a principle. For example, would Chan Master Nan Chuan, a Buddhist monk who took the precept of "Not Killing", really have killed a cat because of a monk's hesitation in answering a koan? Did Rinzai push a scholar off the bridge because he wondered about the "depth of the river of Zen"? Did Xi Wang Mu achieve longevity by draining the sexual essence from 1,000 young men (yes, that’s the story)? Here's a great one recorded in Daoist texts: A Daoist master swallows five gemstones and ritually directs them to lodge in specific internal organs. After he dies and his body decomposes until only the bones are left, the stones become self-activated and reconstitute all of his cells and tissues. The Master is youthful again with a full life ahead of him.

There is a popular belief that advanced Daoists and yogis can stop their pulse and breath. Do they really stop; do Daoists defy human biology? No. However, compared to the conventional respiratory rate or heart rate, these functions may seem to have stopped. Hence in Zhao Bichen's 19th Century master work, Xing Ming Fa Jue Ming Zhi (translated by Charles Luk as Taoist Yoga: Alchemy and Immortality) "stopping the breath" is defined as 似停非停 "seems to have stopped but doesn't stop." Adepts are even advised to hold the breath for two hours, during Zi Shi (the Hours of the Rat), from 11 pm to 1 am. Please don't take this on face value or try it! In a deep state of meditation, breath slows from the average of 17 breaths per minute to about 5 breaths per minute, and heart rate may drop to 50, or even lower. There is an "extinction" of the ordinary, conventional reality.

Unfortunately, exaggeration is so common in both Daoism and Qigong that some modern practitioners mistakenly believe that their authenticity is established by making outrageous claims-- pushing people from a distance without physical touch, living 250 years, etc. (I know one Daoist who increases his age by 5 years on each birthday). At some point it no longer becomes a literary convention but rather-- to be blunt-- a lie or a con.

Listen to the spiritual message of the stories of the old masters, but please keep your "skepticals" on!

Peace in a Cup of Tea

Originally published in Alternative Medicine, January 2006 © Kenneth S. Cohen

“A cup of tea is a cup of peace.” These words were spoken to me some thirty years ago by Soshitsu Sen XV, descendant of the sixteenth century founder of the Japanese Tea Ceremony. I was a beginner in Japanese Tea Ceremony, and it has taken me a long time to realize the depth in that simple sentence. I believe that Sen was talking about far more than mental tranquility or the biological effects of theanine, the mood-altering amino acid concentrated in green tea. He was speaking about tea as a Tao, a path in life, a way to realize peace in every aspect of one’s life– in one’s own mind, with one’s family and community, and as a communion that can bring peace in the world. A cup of tea is a celebration of the mystery of the ordinary, beauty found in the simplicity of the everyday. After thirty years practicing this beautiful art perhaps I am finally an advanced beginner.

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Thirty years to learn how to drink tea? You’ve got to be kidding. Let me put this in context. A student of a great Japanese tea master spent more than ten years perfecting the choreography– how to clean the utensils, handle the tea bowl, whisk the powdered tea, arrange the flowers, even how to bow. One day he asked his teacher to reveal the deepest secrets in Tea Ceremony. The master explained, “First you boil the water, then prepare the tea, then drink it. That is all.” The student looked disappointed and somewhat perplexed. The master continued, “Show me someone who can truly do these things, and I will become their disciple.” This is the challenge of Tea, and it is the challenge of life. How can we be so present that we perform each action with our whole body, mind, and spirit? Normally, when we do one thing, part of us is doing something else. We reach for the pot of soup, but the body is so disorganized that we tense our jaws more than our arms. We decide to sit “quietly” for a few minutes but our minds are alternating between the shopping list and the morning news. As multitasking is extolled as a virtue, we lose the deep satisfaction that comes of doing one thing truly well.

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But the repercussions of complexity go beyond this. A person who cannot be truly attentive communicates confusion. “What you are speaks so loudly,” said Emerson, “I cannot hear what you are saying.” Through a kind of energetic contagion — scientist Rupert Sheldrake’s “morphogenetic field”–many of us feel compelled to a life of haste and waste. At some unconscious level we may believe that not-doing, leisure, and — dare I say it– loafing!– are sins against society. Tea is the antidote. By slowing down, we become aware of beauty and capable of creating beauty around us. “Slowness is beauty,” said the artist Rodin. I am not talking about beauty only in clothes, complexion, and home design, but beauty in every aspect of life. Yes, it is possible. As the Navajo Indians say in their prayer, “Beauty above, beauty below, beauty before me, beauty behind me, beauty all around.” A commitment to beauty includes speaking and behaving with care and respect and preserving the beauty of the natural world, not by keeping some areas pristine and sacrificing other regions to industrial waste, but by considering the entire world our home.

Tea is ultimately an exercise in awareness. It assures awareness far more certainly than a Zen Master checking the posture and presence of seated monks. A chajin (tea person) whose mind wanders spoils the tea, and the guests can taste it. Tea is more than a cup of peace; it is a cup of your deepest Self. As Tea Master Rikyu (1520-1591) said, “When water is ladled from the depths of Mind, whose bottom is beyond measure, then we really have what is called Tea Ceremony.”

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An Invitation to Japanese Tea Ceremony

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The mood in the tearoom is rustic simplicity– tatami (bamboo) mats, wooden posts, gentle light passing through rice paper screens, perhaps only candlelight. The air has just a hint of the woodsy and peaty scent of aloeswood incense. The cast iron brazier and kettle rest on a tile on the tatami. The water is simmering over glowing charcoal embers in the brazier, making a prolonged “shu,” like the sound of the wind in pine trees. In the corner alcove hangs a calligraphy to suggest through style and meaning the mood for the day. Today, it consists of two Chinese characters in a cursive script that makes the words look like flowing water. They say qing feng, “pure, fresh breeze,” reminiscent of the Zen Buddhist saying, “At every step, a pure breeze rises.”

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Two or three guests enter the room one by one and sit on a mat facing the brazier. The host enters the room and bows low with the guests, a way of yielding to a mystery. In the tea room there is no high or low, only Buddha bowing to Buddha. She gradually brings the tea utensils into the room: sweet crispy wafers to complement the bitterness of the tea– yin and yang, sweet and bitter like life–, a jar filled with cold water, the fine glazed teabowl, lacquered tea caddie, bamboo teascoop, bamboo whisk, bamboo ladle, and metal waste water container. Once all of the utensils are on the mat, she sits for a moment of silence, a space in which host and guest tune in to each other and create a foundation for harmony.

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Next she removes the fukusa, orange silk napkin, from her sash and folds it in a specific manner that communicates grace and efficiency. She uses the fukusa to lightly clean the tea caddie and tea scoop, cleansing at the same time all dust from her mirror mind. Host and guest share a common goal: to open the senses and perceive without preconception, like a mirror that, itself colorless, can reflect all colors. Next, the hostess uses the tea scoop to lift out two small scoops of the powdered natural green tea. The guests notice the beautiful pattern left behind in the caddie. The tea which had been shaped like a mountain in the center or the caddie now, with two scoops removed, looks like sheer green cliffs. The hostess gently ladles water into the teabowl and then whisks it into a jade froth. The bowl is served to the first guest, who bows first with the guest who has not yet had tea and then with the hostess. The guest sips the tea and notices how as the tea disappears he can see more and more of the inside of the bowl. Finishing the last bit of tea with a slurp– to complement the hostess- he then turns the bowl slowly in his hands to appreciate its color, size, and texture. He returns the bowl to the hostess, who cleans it and prepares tea for the next guest, until all have enjoyed the tea.

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“Please finish the ceremony,” says the last guest with a bow. The hostess cleans the utensils then ladles cool water into the simmering kettle. Suddenly the room is completely quiet. The hostess takes the teabowl and other utensils out of the room. At the end she turns, kneels, and bows with the guests. The guests are once again in an empty room, savoring the tranquility.

Defining Health and Healing

I define health as connectedness. Scientific evidence demonstrates that in a state of optimal health all parts of the body work together (or communicate) mechanically (intelligent organization of posture, breathing, and movement, including factors such as relaxation, alignment, and flow), energetically (via bioelectric, biochemical, and biophoton signals), and in harmony with the physical, social, and spiritual environment. Healing is the realization, restoration, and/or expression of that state of connectedness, wholeness, and harmony.

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Although aspects of healing may be measurable, the final goal of healing may not be, as it includes unity with the ineffable and mysterious. The process of healing fosters an interaction between persons (healer and patient), place, and time. Thus the following factors are important for healing: healing presence, compassion, placebo, ability of the healer, receptiveness of the patient, positive influence of place, and the correct timing of treatment. Because of so many unique factors, there are many non-standard or non-replicable conditions, and experiments in healing can only be suggestive, not conclusive.