Winged Way

The Dao that can be told

is not the Eternal Dao.

-Laozi, Dao De Jing

These are the first lines of this foundational Daoist classic (translated by Stephen Mitchell).  When I first encountered them, I experienced a sudden flash of recognition.  Poems, paintings, and ideas are capable of many wonderful, powerful things, but the biggest broadest greatest Truth hovers behind them, forever inexpressible.  The little vessels of meaning that we string together into piece of art should strive to connect us to the ineffable.  Art is for me a commitment to honest and thorough investigation of the world in order to acquire the capacity to connect others to that Truth that hovers behind our meanings.  Growing up I think I was graced with occasional glimpses, but like the poet in Octavio Paz’s prose poem, The poet’s works III, when I reached out to grasp it I found I was alone in the middle of the street, a red feather between my livid hands.

Art itself is a path.  A disciplined cycle of creation and observation can generate the capacity to experience - and lead others to experience - the ineffable.  At this historical moment, most art has cut itself off from the traditions that acknowledge and pursue the experience of the spiritual dimension.   The current mechanism of production and distribution of art and artists is the academy, and discussions of spirit make most academics uncomfortable.  This is understandable - it takes vigilance (and extra-curricular experience, as it were) to talk about inexpressible things without drifting into mushy new age no-where-land.  So when I stumbled onto the Dao, I was surprised and delighted to find a tradition that could address the spirit humbly and directly, with its feet firmly on the ground.

There are wisdom traditions in every culture.  In some cases the disciples of sages and mystics organized and codified the knowledge passed on to them, gathering followers, creating religions.  More often than not this codification cut people off from direct experience of the spiritual.  In any case, the limitations of language and the protection of a traditions integrity and authenticity require that, in all but the rarest exceptions, wisdom must be transmitted orally.  A few of these traditions survive intact, the kernel of knowledge preserved by a continuous chain of teachers and students.  I feel very lucky to have found a teacher, and become a link in this chain.

Daoism originated in the East, long before it had borders and called itself China.  I think it is important to note that, while there are aspects of this tradition that are at first foreign to those of us from the West, the current that runs below, the Dao, is not Other.  The foreignness is just an attribute of the human expression - the Dao that can be told.

Qigong (pronounced “chee-gong”) is an aspect of the Dao.  Traditional qigong forms are many and diverse, but they all have three parts: posture, breathe, and visualization.  (Non-traditional forms are often concerned only with posture, or physical movement.)  A particular form might be a seated meditation, a martial art form like Taiji or XinYi, or a healing method like FuShui (literally ‘talisman water’).

The Dao translates as the “way” or the “path.”  Qigong is a path that leads us to look inside, to observe the microcosm in each of us, in order to understand the macrocosm outside of us.  Observation is the way to the Dao.  Qigong is a path to health, inner power, aliveness, and enlightenment. “Qi” is life force, energy, or vitality. “Gong” means work, skill, or cultivation. Qigong forms are tools for cultivating vital energy.

When qi flows freely, all is well. You will be healthy, happy and lucky.  You will work hard and rest easy, and never go to battle.  When qi is blocked, things break down.  Your body and mind hurts, your spirit is restless and anxious, and nothing seems to go your way.   The sages invented qigong forms in order to help people remove obstructions to the flow of qi, improve their lives, and with some additional effort, perhaps reach enlightenment, becoming one with the flow. There is also a sense in which our individual pain or illness reveals that we, as individuals, are obstructing the cosmological flow. By healing ourselves, clearing our own obstructions, we are doing our part to heal all that is around us.

These are some of the ways to understand qigong and the Dao.  These principles felt familiar to me when I encountered them, because with some adjustment of the vocabulary, they would articulate my experience and observations of art, myself, and of the world around me.

I am a student of Classical Shamanic Qigong and Taiji under Master Zhongxian Wu. For more information about qigong and the Dao, see Master Wu’s article: Seeking The Roots of Classical Qigong , or his book: The Vital Breath of the Dao: Chinese Shamanic Tiger Qigong.

Daily practice of the forms I have learned from Master Wu has transformed my body, mind, and spirit in clear and tangible ways. Occasionally there are opportunities to study with Master Wu.  I highly recommend it.  He is a rare and gifted teacher.

I am also available for private instruction. The forms I teach are in Master Wu’s lineage - either from the Wudang Dragon Gate school, or from the Mt Emei school.  I also offer qi healing sessions for my ongoing students.  This is a path of self-healing and self-responsibility.  The goal of my teaching is to help you establish a daily practice that you can continue on your own.  If I can be of any assistance to you please feel free to contact me.

Thanks for your interest.

Flow with the go.