Tuesday, May 15, 2012
Summer 2012
The first day of summer on the Chinese calendar this year was May 4.
Summer's element is Fire. The color of the Fire element is red, its organs are the Heart and Small Intestine, its flavor is bitter (scorched) and its emotion is joy (whose negative aspect is anxiety).
I am late with this brief posting, because after years of anxiety caused by being sucked dry by property I couldn't afford, I sold my house a month ago. Having unloaded a seductive but stagnant pile of steaming earth, my heart is slowly re-filling with joy. New anxieties will probably come to replace the old, but for now I am relaxing into the early summer here in central PA. I believe I'll set up the hammock tonight.
I encourage you to do the same. Burn your obligations; become weightless. So what if it doesn't last? Nothing lasts. Enjoy it while it's here, is the lesson of Summer.
Change is in the wind
As the son of an English professor and a life-long lover of the bon mot, I have always tried to avoid cliches and stereotypical figures of speech. However, once I started working with bodies as an exercise therapist, it became immediately apparent how much truth there is in many well-worn phrases. As someone who has always suffered from knee problems, I can tell you, ruefully, that there is truth in the phrase "weak-kneed." Not that everyone who has weak knees is a coward, but rather that having chronic knee problems can make one physically timid, which ironically can contribute to the continuation and extension of knee problems. Urge someone with knee pain to be brave in their workouts and you'll have a good result. On another hand, people with chronic back problems frequently "don't have a leg to stand on" -- either they chronically exert themselves physically without situating their legs under them, or they frequently over-reach their boundaries and keep running when the ground has disappeared under their feet, like Wile E. Coyote. This makes them either lift with their back, not with their legs, or causes them to crash and burn, neither of which is good for spinal health.
When I started studying Chinese medicine, and especially as I have practiced it for the last 12 years, I have seen and appreciated how the Chinese have taken this technique many steps further and deeper. They have transcended words to identify and describe universal concepts, patterns or tendencies -- these descriptions include language, but also flavors, emotions, internal organs, external seasons, specific pathogens and spiritual states or emotional tendencies. Today, at the end of spring in the yang Black Dragon year 4709 on the Chinese calendar, I'd like to talk some more about the wood element and its climatic factor, wind.
Like always in Chinese descriptions of natural laws or movements, there is no right or wrong, illness or health implied in any particular substance, emotion or thought. They simply are, and can be in balance and appropriately expressed and manifested, or can be out of balance and inappropriately or destructively expressed or manifested. Wind is said to be the carrier of hundreds of diseases, but wind is also synonymous with change. The liver and gall bladder are the organs associated with the wood element, anger is the emotion, sour is the flavor and spring is the season. I have had an experience this spring which has brought all of these different aspects of wood and wind together in a way that is still making me feel awe and chagrin, but which I think is taking me further forward in my understanding of Chinese medicine, nature and myself.
Since I was about 18 years old, I have had bumps on my scalp. There were about a dozen of them, and they used to be about the size of a pea. However, in the last few years several of them got bigger and bigger. They would poke out through my hair, making me very self-conscious, especially at the swimming pool, where small children would say, "Mommy, what's that on that man's head?" They looked like cartoon bumps that are the aftermath of falling anvils, and I couldn't figure out a clever way to explain them away or disguise them. So I went to a plastic surgeon this spring, at the end of March, and had them cut out. Although the fee for this surgery was very reasonable, it was still a lot for me to pay; and although the procedure was described as minimal ("You can drive yourself home," and I did), it was a lot more traumatic than I expected. My head felt like a soccer ball that was being repaired -- lots of cutting, tugging and sewing -- when I had been expecting a kind of glorified pimple-popping. Besides the physical discomfort and wooziness, though, the biggest shock was seeing the cysts themselves after they were removed. Again, I was expecting some kind of cheesy, pimple-like goo, but instead they looked like miniature internal organs -- pinkish-grey, firm, with rubbery membranes and in some cases with skin, hair or other tissue still attached to the cyst. Sorry if I'm turning your stomach, but I bet my stomach was turned more. Especially because the sight of the cysts immediately confirmed one of my suspicions about the source of the cysts, and as it happened, it was the darkest, least flattering and least innocent of the various suspicions I had entertained.
Among other things, the Chinese say that the liver's qi rises to the vertex of the skull -- this usually is associated with things like headaches, vertigo and high blood pressure -- excess or un-anchored yang qi flying chaotically upward, in Chinese terms, or "liver yang rising." However, the liver is also harmed by excess dampness, and my cysts were very clearly pathologically damp in nature. Dampness in the liver is caused by consuming excess fats, sugars, medications or, as in my case, alcohol. Everyone in my family is a drinker, and I started in earnest when I was about 16. Although several of my relatives were pretty clearly alcoholics, and although I quit drinking entirely for a couple of years in my mid-twenties in response to dear friends who accused me of being an abusive drunk (they were right), I have been a pretty dedicated drinker for the last 35 years. In the last 9 years, since leaving the city I loved out of a sense of duty to my family, and after intimately watching three of those family members die, I will freely confess that I was drinking too much, and I was drinking inappropriately. I was never drunk at work or in situations that put myself or my family at risk, but I had a hangover many, many mornings, and I knew that I was drinking without joy and at an unsustainable rate.
I want to make clear: I will defend the right of people to live and die in whatever way they see fit -- I am not making an addict's confession, nor am I judging anyone else or myself for their habits and lifestyle, self-destructive or otherwise, past or future. I think laws of prohibition and philosophies of self-denial cause a lot more harm than good. I would rather describe things in universal terms, offer my own example, and let others make their own judgments and decisions. If some of you judge me harshly and others cut me lots of slack, neither really matters much to me -- what is important to me is understanding how things work and making personal judgments based on that understanding.
Curiously, alcohol is said to move blood, and obviously blood needs to move for life to continue; but after awhile, alcohol creates changes to tissues and blood vessels, literally pickling them, and this hardening limits the movement of blood and qi and makes the body less resilient and the spirit less flexible. None of us will make it out of this world alive, but we do have some choices about how we spend our time, whether we age gracefully or not, and how we die. At this point in my life, with three young sons, a young wife, many interesting patients ahead of me, and lots of happy party time behind me, I am much more interested in living longer than in trying to have a party every day.
Faced with the evidence that was hidden under my scalp, I first had to say, "Whew! Thank goodness my liver was smart enough to divert all that dampness away from itself and up to my scalp, where I would notice it but not be harmed by it!" And then had to follow up with, "Gee, maybe I better not push my luck that my liver will be able to continue doing that." And finally followed THAT up with, "Maybe I've had enough to drink." It's been a bit over a month and, except for about half an hour at dinner time, I can honestly say I don't miss alcohol one bit. I'm a little disappointed that I don't spring out of bed every morning more bushy-tailed and bright-eyed, and my wife's glass of Pinot Noir smells really good sometimes, but I am relieved to no longer be pickling my guts and hardening my habits.
Life is long and life is short. I want to enjoy it as much as I can, but I don't want to overstay my welcome at any party. Sometimes to remain in balance we have to change in little ways, and sometimes we have to change in big ways. Sometimes what is a small change for one person is an enormous change for someone else. Sometimes what is an enormous change at one time of life is a small change for another time of life. It is the easiest (and most unkind and useless) thing in the world to look at someone and say, "Well, if they only changed that they'd be much better off." And it is the hardest thing in the world to look at ourselves and say, "Holy cow! It's time to change this!" It's hard to know sometimes what the right thing is to do, but sometimes we're lucky and get confirmation from the inside and the outside that the changes we are making are necessary and worthwhile.
I think part of why we die is because our lives change out from under us and we're not able to keep up. None of us can see the future, but sometimes you can see the road just up ahead. I would feel really bad and embarrassed if I saw clearly that the road ahead was turning but I insisted on following my predetermined path right off a cliff. I'm grateful for the wind that blows me, even though sometimes it blows me off course (in a frustrating way) and sometimes on (in an embarrassing way).
Movement is life; stillness is death. I'd rather be moving and embarrassed than still and cool.
When I started studying Chinese medicine, and especially as I have practiced it for the last 12 years, I have seen and appreciated how the Chinese have taken this technique many steps further and deeper. They have transcended words to identify and describe universal concepts, patterns or tendencies -- these descriptions include language, but also flavors, emotions, internal organs, external seasons, specific pathogens and spiritual states or emotional tendencies. Today, at the end of spring in the yang Black Dragon year 4709 on the Chinese calendar, I'd like to talk some more about the wood element and its climatic factor, wind.
Like always in Chinese descriptions of natural laws or movements, there is no right or wrong, illness or health implied in any particular substance, emotion or thought. They simply are, and can be in balance and appropriately expressed and manifested, or can be out of balance and inappropriately or destructively expressed or manifested. Wind is said to be the carrier of hundreds of diseases, but wind is also synonymous with change. The liver and gall bladder are the organs associated with the wood element, anger is the emotion, sour is the flavor and spring is the season. I have had an experience this spring which has brought all of these different aspects of wood and wind together in a way that is still making me feel awe and chagrin, but which I think is taking me further forward in my understanding of Chinese medicine, nature and myself.
Since I was about 18 years old, I have had bumps on my scalp. There were about a dozen of them, and they used to be about the size of a pea. However, in the last few years several of them got bigger and bigger. They would poke out through my hair, making me very self-conscious, especially at the swimming pool, where small children would say, "Mommy, what's that on that man's head?" They looked like cartoon bumps that are the aftermath of falling anvils, and I couldn't figure out a clever way to explain them away or disguise them. So I went to a plastic surgeon this spring, at the end of March, and had them cut out. Although the fee for this surgery was very reasonable, it was still a lot for me to pay; and although the procedure was described as minimal ("You can drive yourself home," and I did), it was a lot more traumatic than I expected. My head felt like a soccer ball that was being repaired -- lots of cutting, tugging and sewing -- when I had been expecting a kind of glorified pimple-popping. Besides the physical discomfort and wooziness, though, the biggest shock was seeing the cysts themselves after they were removed. Again, I was expecting some kind of cheesy, pimple-like goo, but instead they looked like miniature internal organs -- pinkish-grey, firm, with rubbery membranes and in some cases with skin, hair or other tissue still attached to the cyst. Sorry if I'm turning your stomach, but I bet my stomach was turned more. Especially because the sight of the cysts immediately confirmed one of my suspicions about the source of the cysts, and as it happened, it was the darkest, least flattering and least innocent of the various suspicions I had entertained.
Among other things, the Chinese say that the liver's qi rises to the vertex of the skull -- this usually is associated with things like headaches, vertigo and high blood pressure -- excess or un-anchored yang qi flying chaotically upward, in Chinese terms, or "liver yang rising." However, the liver is also harmed by excess dampness, and my cysts were very clearly pathologically damp in nature. Dampness in the liver is caused by consuming excess fats, sugars, medications or, as in my case, alcohol. Everyone in my family is a drinker, and I started in earnest when I was about 16. Although several of my relatives were pretty clearly alcoholics, and although I quit drinking entirely for a couple of years in my mid-twenties in response to dear friends who accused me of being an abusive drunk (they were right), I have been a pretty dedicated drinker for the last 35 years. In the last 9 years, since leaving the city I loved out of a sense of duty to my family, and after intimately watching three of those family members die, I will freely confess that I was drinking too much, and I was drinking inappropriately. I was never drunk at work or in situations that put myself or my family at risk, but I had a hangover many, many mornings, and I knew that I was drinking without joy and at an unsustainable rate.
I want to make clear: I will defend the right of people to live and die in whatever way they see fit -- I am not making an addict's confession, nor am I judging anyone else or myself for their habits and lifestyle, self-destructive or otherwise, past or future. I think laws of prohibition and philosophies of self-denial cause a lot more harm than good. I would rather describe things in universal terms, offer my own example, and let others make their own judgments and decisions. If some of you judge me harshly and others cut me lots of slack, neither really matters much to me -- what is important to me is understanding how things work and making personal judgments based on that understanding.
Curiously, alcohol is said to move blood, and obviously blood needs to move for life to continue; but after awhile, alcohol creates changes to tissues and blood vessels, literally pickling them, and this hardening limits the movement of blood and qi and makes the body less resilient and the spirit less flexible. None of us will make it out of this world alive, but we do have some choices about how we spend our time, whether we age gracefully or not, and how we die. At this point in my life, with three young sons, a young wife, many interesting patients ahead of me, and lots of happy party time behind me, I am much more interested in living longer than in trying to have a party every day.
Faced with the evidence that was hidden under my scalp, I first had to say, "Whew! Thank goodness my liver was smart enough to divert all that dampness away from itself and up to my scalp, where I would notice it but not be harmed by it!" And then had to follow up with, "Gee, maybe I better not push my luck that my liver will be able to continue doing that." And finally followed THAT up with, "Maybe I've had enough to drink." It's been a bit over a month and, except for about half an hour at dinner time, I can honestly say I don't miss alcohol one bit. I'm a little disappointed that I don't spring out of bed every morning more bushy-tailed and bright-eyed, and my wife's glass of Pinot Noir smells really good sometimes, but I am relieved to no longer be pickling my guts and hardening my habits.
Life is long and life is short. I want to enjoy it as much as I can, but I don't want to overstay my welcome at any party. Sometimes to remain in balance we have to change in little ways, and sometimes we have to change in big ways. Sometimes what is a small change for one person is an enormous change for someone else. Sometimes what is an enormous change at one time of life is a small change for another time of life. It is the easiest (and most unkind and useless) thing in the world to look at someone and say, "Well, if they only changed that they'd be much better off." And it is the hardest thing in the world to look at ourselves and say, "Holy cow! It's time to change this!" It's hard to know sometimes what the right thing is to do, but sometimes we're lucky and get confirmation from the inside and the outside that the changes we are making are necessary and worthwhile.
I think part of why we die is because our lives change out from under us and we're not able to keep up. None of us can see the future, but sometimes you can see the road just up ahead. I would feel really bad and embarrassed if I saw clearly that the road ahead was turning but I insisted on following my predetermined path right off a cliff. I'm grateful for the wind that blows me, even though sometimes it blows me off course (in a frustrating way) and sometimes on (in an embarrassing way).
Movement is life; stillness is death. I'd rather be moving and embarrassed than still and cool.
Friday, February 3, 2012
Chinese Spring 2012
Saturday, February 4th is the first day of spring on the Chinese calendar this year. If you got my email last spring, I made a mistake -- New Year's Day is NOT the first day of spring on the Chinese calendar. The New Year is determined by the lunar calendar, falling on the second (or sometimes third) new moon after the winter solstice. However, the first day of spring is based on the solar calendar, and occurs each year at "lichun," when the sun is at 315 degrees in the sky -- usually around February 4th. This means that sometimes spring starts before the new year does; furthermore, according to the Chinese Almanac the new zodiacal year doesn’t start until the first day of spring. This raises an interesting question regarding the status of people born between New Year’s Day and the first day of spring – to which year do they belong? Are you last year’s Rabbit, or this year’s Dragon? Maybe I’ll understand by next year, and will be able to correct this year’s mistakes then.
The element associated with springtime is the Wood element. The Wood element's emotion is anger, including frustration and impatience, and it hates being hemmed in or constrained. Wood’s positive attributes include drive, focus and ambition. Its color is green, its flavor is sour and its organs are the gall bladder and liver, which the Chinese call the "Free and Easy Wanderer." At the change of season is a good time to treat seasonal issues or issues associated with the season's element. Usually in the springtime it’s easy to see how people are becoming impatient with being cooped up all winter – “cabin fever” is a very Chinese description of a seasonal ailment – and it’s fairly easy to soothe people and re-channel their impatience and feelings of constraint into something that will give them a constructive outlet for their drive and ambition. Cleaning their fishing gear, preparing their garden plan, etc.
However, it is also important to make a smooth transition from one season to the next. Winter’s emotion is fear, and it can be kind of difficult to see how fear gives birth to anger, much less how to smooth the transition between the two. This year I have had a personal understanding of how this dynamic works, and I’m hoping this will help me to make smoother transitions between Winter and Spring.
As some of you know, I have become quite involved in local politics in the last few years and have even run for state office twice. Having been beaten soundly both times, I was content to hang up my state-wide political ambitions. However, I have been fearful about the future recently, both in personal terms (“How am I going to pay my mortgage?”) and in a larger sense (“What’s going to happen to our state with fracking? What’s going to happen to our democracy with the obscene amounts being spent on political campaigns?”). These fearful questions led me to angry feelings, which led to a desire to DO something so I didn’t feel so trapped and helpless. The main action I came up with, though, was to run for office again, as an anti-fracking, anti-money-in-campaigns candidate. Although I believe that both are noble and sensible positions, and although I hope that someone (actually, a LOT of someones) start to run on such platforms, it would be suicidal for me to do so. Although fracking isn’t having the generally enriching effect on north-central PA that was promised, some people have made a lot of money from it. Also, as indicated in the movie “There Will Be Blood,” the people who run the petroleum industry are rich and powerful and used to getting their way. Not only would I kill any future political aspirations I might have, I would also likely kill my acupuncture practice and might even be actually killed if I were to stick my neck out like this.
So I’m trying to come up with an alternative course of action that acknowledges my legitimate feelings, helps alleviate my fear and anger, and takes into account the seasons’ influence on the whole thing. It ain’t easy. But acupuncture doesn’t promise ease – just an understanding of nature’s patterns, which can help us avoid nature’s pitfalls. Because frankly, nature doesn’t care if I destroy myself – it’s only my family, friends and patients who will mind.
If you find yourself in a similar suicidal rage, consider the possibility that your fear is feeding your anger in a way that makes you blind to the consequences. “Blind rage” can lead you straight off a cliff. “Clear, cold-eyed fury” is more likely to have a positive outcome, at least for you. The target of your fury, that’s another matter, but maybe they need to learn to quit using fear as a political tool and to quit inciting anger to achieve their political and economic goals.
If you suffer from seasonal allergies in the spring, if you have liver or gall bladder ailments (including migraines, dizziness, high blood pressure or vertigo), if you feel a need to cleanse after over-indulging at the holidays, or if you have a serious case of cabin fever from being cooped up all winter, now is a good time for an acupuncture treatment. Me, I'm focusing on reassuring myself about my financial obligations and keeping my political feet on the ground. Otherwise, fear might combine with anger to fuel an outrageous act that has no constructive outcome.
Then who would write this blog?
The element associated with springtime is the Wood element. The Wood element's emotion is anger, including frustration and impatience, and it hates being hemmed in or constrained. Wood’s positive attributes include drive, focus and ambition. Its color is green, its flavor is sour and its organs are the gall bladder and liver, which the Chinese call the "Free and Easy Wanderer." At the change of season is a good time to treat seasonal issues or issues associated with the season's element. Usually in the springtime it’s easy to see how people are becoming impatient with being cooped up all winter – “cabin fever” is a very Chinese description of a seasonal ailment – and it’s fairly easy to soothe people and re-channel their impatience and feelings of constraint into something that will give them a constructive outlet for their drive and ambition. Cleaning their fishing gear, preparing their garden plan, etc.
However, it is also important to make a smooth transition from one season to the next. Winter’s emotion is fear, and it can be kind of difficult to see how fear gives birth to anger, much less how to smooth the transition between the two. This year I have had a personal understanding of how this dynamic works, and I’m hoping this will help me to make smoother transitions between Winter and Spring.
As some of you know, I have become quite involved in local politics in the last few years and have even run for state office twice. Having been beaten soundly both times, I was content to hang up my state-wide political ambitions. However, I have been fearful about the future recently, both in personal terms (“How am I going to pay my mortgage?”) and in a larger sense (“What’s going to happen to our state with fracking? What’s going to happen to our democracy with the obscene amounts being spent on political campaigns?”). These fearful questions led me to angry feelings, which led to a desire to DO something so I didn’t feel so trapped and helpless. The main action I came up with, though, was to run for office again, as an anti-fracking, anti-money-in-campaigns candidate. Although I believe that both are noble and sensible positions, and although I hope that someone (actually, a LOT of someones) start to run on such platforms, it would be suicidal for me to do so. Although fracking isn’t having the generally enriching effect on north-central PA that was promised, some people have made a lot of money from it. Also, as indicated in the movie “There Will Be Blood,” the people who run the petroleum industry are rich and powerful and used to getting their way. Not only would I kill any future political aspirations I might have, I would also likely kill my acupuncture practice and might even be actually killed if I were to stick my neck out like this.
So I’m trying to come up with an alternative course of action that acknowledges my legitimate feelings, helps alleviate my fear and anger, and takes into account the seasons’ influence on the whole thing. It ain’t easy. But acupuncture doesn’t promise ease – just an understanding of nature’s patterns, which can help us avoid nature’s pitfalls. Because frankly, nature doesn’t care if I destroy myself – it’s only my family, friends and patients who will mind.
If you find yourself in a similar suicidal rage, consider the possibility that your fear is feeding your anger in a way that makes you blind to the consequences. “Blind rage” can lead you straight off a cliff. “Clear, cold-eyed fury” is more likely to have a positive outcome, at least for you. The target of your fury, that’s another matter, but maybe they need to learn to quit using fear as a political tool and to quit inciting anger to achieve their political and economic goals.
If you suffer from seasonal allergies in the spring, if you have liver or gall bladder ailments (including migraines, dizziness, high blood pressure or vertigo), if you feel a need to cleanse after over-indulging at the holidays, or if you have a serious case of cabin fever from being cooped up all winter, now is a good time for an acupuncture treatment. Me, I'm focusing on reassuring myself about my financial obligations and keeping my political feet on the ground. Otherwise, fear might combine with anger to fuel an outrageous act that has no constructive outcome.
Then who would write this blog?
Chinese New Year 2012
This year the Chinese New Year begins January 23, 2012. It will be the year of the Black (Water) Male (Yang) Dragon. The Chinese calendar is lunar, so New Year's Day changes from year to year, but it is on the new moon in late January or early February. The first day of Spring, however, is determined by the sun, and occurs every year at "lichun," which is around February 4th.
The dragon and lion dances that are well-known in China and Chinatowns throughout the world are intended to chase out the bad luck and bad spirits of the past year. In general, "Good riddance!" seems to be the common Chinese perspective on the recent past. It is also customary to thoroughly clean house before the end of the old year, so that you aren't setting out into a new year with a bunch of junk and garbage weighing you down. Finally, it is the custom to give red envelopes of cash to children -- red is the color associated with good luck and with the shen, the fire spirit of summer. The cash implies a hope for prosperity in the coming year, and the red envelope represents the hope that spiritual growth and progress will accompany material comfort.
Family reunions, new clothes and feasts with specific traditional dishes are also associated with the New Year. In my family, we have a big bonfire on Chinese New Year's Eve. This is partly to defy the cold and dark of winter with an outdoor party, but is also to burn the flood debris, downed limbs and my neighbor's old receipts and unwanted paperwork that end up in my bonfire every year. I've got to think that it would be better luck for her to burn her own garbage, but she's not very Chinese in her outlook -- more Yankee thrift than Oriental soul. Still, we lighten our load before the New Year starts, and make a pretty big noise while we do so.
Happy 4709!
The dragon and lion dances that are well-known in China and Chinatowns throughout the world are intended to chase out the bad luck and bad spirits of the past year. In general, "Good riddance!" seems to be the common Chinese perspective on the recent past. It is also customary to thoroughly clean house before the end of the old year, so that you aren't setting out into a new year with a bunch of junk and garbage weighing you down. Finally, it is the custom to give red envelopes of cash to children -- red is the color associated with good luck and with the shen, the fire spirit of summer. The cash implies a hope for prosperity in the coming year, and the red envelope represents the hope that spiritual growth and progress will accompany material comfort.
Family reunions, new clothes and feasts with specific traditional dishes are also associated with the New Year. In my family, we have a big bonfire on Chinese New Year's Eve. This is partly to defy the cold and dark of winter with an outdoor party, but is also to burn the flood debris, downed limbs and my neighbor's old receipts and unwanted paperwork that end up in my bonfire every year. I've got to think that it would be better luck for her to burn her own garbage, but she's not very Chinese in her outlook -- more Yankee thrift than Oriental soul. Still, we lighten our load before the New Year starts, and make a pretty big noise while we do so.
Happy 4709!
Monday, December 5, 2011
Chinese winter -- the Water element
This is a late post, but I hope you'll excuse me -- between the flood, the visit from my in-laws for Thanksgiving and the additional writing associated with teaching a weekly class on the meridians and point location, I haven't been able to keep up with my blog. Plus, if I wasn't a modern American acupuncturist I'd be in semi-hibernation by now, so I'm climatically sluggish, too.
Chinese winter began November 7th this year. Although late summer and fall have some ambiguity, calendar-wise, winter, spring and summer tend to be more straightforward -- here in Central PA, winter usually begins when all the leaves are off the trees. Winter is associated with the kidneys and bladder. Its element is water, but it might be more accurate to describe it as ice. The emotion is fear, and the spirit of Water is the will. This might seem counter-intuitive, but if you are afraid of the bear and run, that is a manifestation of the will to survive. On another hand, hibernation in the winter time is a supreme triumph of the will to survive ("I'll starve if I don't slow down my metabolism") over fear ("Sure hope no bigger animal finds me and eats me in my sleep").
Cold is the pathogen associated with the Water element, and although science denies any connection between the weather and illness, most of us have had the experience of getting sick or hurt after being too cold. The beginning of winter is an excellent time to do a change of season treatment, to preemptively ward off the coming cold. Such a treatment will include many Kidney points, many of which will be heated with moxa to inject yang qi into the body in order to counteract the season's cold. If you want to do everything you can to avoid winter-time colds, flues and blues, try a winter tune-up.
The water element is associated with the jing, or essence, which controls the deepest aspects of existence -- sexual reproduction, formation of the skeleton and bones -- and is also the metabolic powerhouse that rules all other physical functions. The jing is said to be essentially finite -- what you're born with is all you get, and when it runs out your life is over. There is some dispute about this, and many taoist practices are all about preserving, restoring or extending your jing, but in any event, the jing is very precious, and not to be used up frivolously or casually. Overwork, extreme trauma or shock, and too much sex are some of the main things said to contribute to the decline of your jing. The jing also deals with hereditary illnesses, conditions or tendencies. Although jing-related issues are deep and profound, they are frequently the sorts of things for which people seek acupuncture treatment. From infertility, to migraines like your mom's, or back pain like your dad's, western medicine sometimes either doesn't recognize the dynamic or over-attacks it with expensive and intrusive procedures. That's when an American is most likely to seek an alternative, like acupuncture.
The water element is also associated with sorcery, with the solitary and secretive practitioner. Most of us American acupuncturists end up being viewed this way -- acupuncture is so alien to most westerners that the only way many people can understand it is as a type of magic. Although I don't feel the least bit like a magician, I understand that people see me as an unusual and alien healthcare practitioner. This is part of the reason that I wear all black for my work uniform -- black or blue is the color associated with the Water element, and is also the color associated with magic in western societies. The other reason I wear all black, of course, is because I love Johnny Cash. "Til things are brighter, I'm the man in black." Presumptuous, perhaps, but so is being a modern American practitioner of ancient Chinese medicine.
Chinese winter began November 7th this year. Although late summer and fall have some ambiguity, calendar-wise, winter, spring and summer tend to be more straightforward -- here in Central PA, winter usually begins when all the leaves are off the trees. Winter is associated with the kidneys and bladder. Its element is water, but it might be more accurate to describe it as ice. The emotion is fear, and the spirit of Water is the will. This might seem counter-intuitive, but if you are afraid of the bear and run, that is a manifestation of the will to survive. On another hand, hibernation in the winter time is a supreme triumph of the will to survive ("I'll starve if I don't slow down my metabolism") over fear ("Sure hope no bigger animal finds me and eats me in my sleep").
Cold is the pathogen associated with the Water element, and although science denies any connection between the weather and illness, most of us have had the experience of getting sick or hurt after being too cold. The beginning of winter is an excellent time to do a change of season treatment, to preemptively ward off the coming cold. Such a treatment will include many Kidney points, many of which will be heated with moxa to inject yang qi into the body in order to counteract the season's cold. If you want to do everything you can to avoid winter-time colds, flues and blues, try a winter tune-up.
The water element is associated with the jing, or essence, which controls the deepest aspects of existence -- sexual reproduction, formation of the skeleton and bones -- and is also the metabolic powerhouse that rules all other physical functions. The jing is said to be essentially finite -- what you're born with is all you get, and when it runs out your life is over. There is some dispute about this, and many taoist practices are all about preserving, restoring or extending your jing, but in any event, the jing is very precious, and not to be used up frivolously or casually. Overwork, extreme trauma or shock, and too much sex are some of the main things said to contribute to the decline of your jing. The jing also deals with hereditary illnesses, conditions or tendencies. Although jing-related issues are deep and profound, they are frequently the sorts of things for which people seek acupuncture treatment. From infertility, to migraines like your mom's, or back pain like your dad's, western medicine sometimes either doesn't recognize the dynamic or over-attacks it with expensive and intrusive procedures. That's when an American is most likely to seek an alternative, like acupuncture.
The water element is also associated with sorcery, with the solitary and secretive practitioner. Most of us American acupuncturists end up being viewed this way -- acupuncture is so alien to most westerners that the only way many people can understand it is as a type of magic. Although I don't feel the least bit like a magician, I understand that people see me as an unusual and alien healthcare practitioner. This is part of the reason that I wear all black for my work uniform -- black or blue is the color associated with the Water element, and is also the color associated with magic in western societies. The other reason I wear all black, of course, is because I love Johnny Cash. "Til things are brighter, I'm the man in black." Presumptuous, perhaps, but so is being a modern American practitioner of ancient Chinese medicine.
Monday, October 3, 2011
The Metal element
The Metal element is associated with the Lungs and Large Intestine. Autumn is its season, its color is white and its emotion is grief. Metal's sound is crying, and its musical note is "shang," like the sound of a gong. Metal's positive attribute is organization, but this can be over-done and then you become anal retentive. If you are constipated, the Chinese say you need to “order your qi.” Following these bowel dynamics back to Metal’s emotion, some people are sloppy with their grief, crying all over everyone and making people want to avoid them, while others repress and withhold their grief, acting out in crazy ways or making themselves physically ill. There's no getting around grief in this life, but we can wallow in it or try foolishly to avoid it and make its sting that much worse.
Grief comes into every life, and we all need to have some degree of organization to get through our days. The trick is to know yourself – to know what you need, when and how much. I've always been fairly good at organizing things and have never had any issues with constipation. However, I’ve always had a problem with processing grief, and have had many lung problems. I have tended to try to tough it out, then utterly collapse at some inopportune moment, with the wrong person or in an inappropriate situation. What can I say – I was born in Texas, and cowboys aren’t supposed to cry. As I’ve gotten older and seen how much withheld grief has hurt me, my loved ones and my patients, I’ve tried to anticipate my weakness, but it’s not easy. On one hand, I am much more sentimental about children, animals, athletes, injured veterans and dead loved ones, ready to tear up at a special memory of my late brother or, for that matter, a well-crafted cellphone commercial. But when recently faced with immediate, real grief -- news of the life-threatening illness of an old and dear friend -- I didn’t do so well. I am ashamed to say that I acted stoic for a few days until I arranged to drink too much and totally ruin my wife’s Friday evening tv-watching with my blubbering.
I also generally have a hard time with the autumn -- I am always impatient and discouraged with myself, feeling like the grasshopper in the fable of the Grasshopper and the Ants. I am moody and grumpy, and want to make up for all the lost time swimming and picnicking in the summer by getting ready for winter, dammit! When I first realized this tendency in myself, my darling wife helped me figure out a strategy so I wouldn't be so blue (and grumpy) in the fall. First of all, I'd try really hard to avoid injuring myself on Labor Day weekend, trying to squeeze one last bit of summer joy in before the autumnal curtain came down. Second, I'd paint my toenails (usually metal flake sky blue) so that every time I put my shoes on for the next month, I'd see my toenails and remember the last days of summer with a smile. I haven't painted my toenails for the last couple of years, thinking I was doing better, but maybe I was fooling myself. “Doctor, heal thyself” sometimes means, “Doctor, keep on trying to heal thyself.” Sigh.
As I described in my last seasonal post, there is some confusion about how to deal with the Earth element, and therefore some variability about when the Metal season begins. According to the Chinese Almanac, Metal season began on August 7th this year, but that totally left out the Earth season, late summer. However, here in Central PA, where we have such a clear late summer, I would say that Autumn began this year around September 9th, after the recent flooding, or it may have just begun with the cool snap at the beginning of October. The storms that came with Tropical Storm Lee were tropical in nature, as were the recent heavy rains we were experiencing, but we’ve also had some bona fide cold snaps. I don’t think this blurring of the seasons is such a bad thing – even though the weather was (Earth element) humid and sweaty at the beginning of August, many of my patients were already very impatient to begin (Metal element) organizing their garages and basements for winter, and I also saw a spate of respiratory issues and grief-related conditions at that time. Writing this blog has been very useful for helping me to observe such correspondences between the seasons and my patients' behaviors and ailments.
Maybe if I was more anal in my practice -- a numerologist or astrologer, perhaps -- I would be more concerned with the precise astronomical moment when the seasons shift, but I’m not. I feel my way through all of these Chinese principles more than I religiously observe them. Maybe this Metal season I can transfer some of that organizational ease into my grief-processing and quit being so (ineffectually) rigid in how I try to deal with the grief life brings to me. My wife is worried I'll die of a respiratory disease some day, and she's got some reason to fear such an outcome. From poor processing of grief, to infantile pneumonia, to being the child of cigarette smokers, to being a young adult smoker who held a variety of jobs that used toxic and volatile compounds and wore little or no respiratory protection, I have certainly been rougher on my lungs than my other organs.
However, I have also come the furthest in my life with my lungs. My entry to the world of healing came via breath-centered exercise therapy -- yoga and, especially, Gyrotonics. Using my breath to make myself stronger, quicker, more flexible and more in tune with my body and spirit was one thing, but I really came into my own when I began working with others to help them understand how to expand their use of breath. Therefore the background photo for this post. Yes, as an inexperienced blogger I am limited to the photographic options that blogspot.com offers to me, but the more I think about it, the more pleased I am with the dumbbells. Obviously they are metal; the photographic highlights make them look very white; and they refer to exercise, which got me started on a breath-centered and more balanced life. Done with mindful breathing, exercise can make one less prone to constipation and depression. Being in tune with ones breath can make one less likely to kill oneself with poor judgment and self-destructive habits, less prone to poor grief management and less likely to ruin someone's Friday evening tv-viewing. In other words, my darling wife might say, less likely to be a dumbbell.
Grief comes into every life, and we all need to have some degree of organization to get through our days. The trick is to know yourself – to know what you need, when and how much. I've always been fairly good at organizing things and have never had any issues with constipation. However, I’ve always had a problem with processing grief, and have had many lung problems. I have tended to try to tough it out, then utterly collapse at some inopportune moment, with the wrong person or in an inappropriate situation. What can I say – I was born in Texas, and cowboys aren’t supposed to cry. As I’ve gotten older and seen how much withheld grief has hurt me, my loved ones and my patients, I’ve tried to anticipate my weakness, but it’s not easy. On one hand, I am much more sentimental about children, animals, athletes, injured veterans and dead loved ones, ready to tear up at a special memory of my late brother or, for that matter, a well-crafted cellphone commercial. But when recently faced with immediate, real grief -- news of the life-threatening illness of an old and dear friend -- I didn’t do so well. I am ashamed to say that I acted stoic for a few days until I arranged to drink too much and totally ruin my wife’s Friday evening tv-watching with my blubbering.
I also generally have a hard time with the autumn -- I am always impatient and discouraged with myself, feeling like the grasshopper in the fable of the Grasshopper and the Ants. I am moody and grumpy, and want to make up for all the lost time swimming and picnicking in the summer by getting ready for winter, dammit! When I first realized this tendency in myself, my darling wife helped me figure out a strategy so I wouldn't be so blue (and grumpy) in the fall. First of all, I'd try really hard to avoid injuring myself on Labor Day weekend, trying to squeeze one last bit of summer joy in before the autumnal curtain came down. Second, I'd paint my toenails (usually metal flake sky blue) so that every time I put my shoes on for the next month, I'd see my toenails and remember the last days of summer with a smile. I haven't painted my toenails for the last couple of years, thinking I was doing better, but maybe I was fooling myself. “Doctor, heal thyself” sometimes means, “Doctor, keep on trying to heal thyself.” Sigh.
As I described in my last seasonal post, there is some confusion about how to deal with the Earth element, and therefore some variability about when the Metal season begins. According to the Chinese Almanac, Metal season began on August 7th this year, but that totally left out the Earth season, late summer. However, here in Central PA, where we have such a clear late summer, I would say that Autumn began this year around September 9th, after the recent flooding, or it may have just begun with the cool snap at the beginning of October. The storms that came with Tropical Storm Lee were tropical in nature, as were the recent heavy rains we were experiencing, but we’ve also had some bona fide cold snaps. I don’t think this blurring of the seasons is such a bad thing – even though the weather was (Earth element) humid and sweaty at the beginning of August, many of my patients were already very impatient to begin (Metal element) organizing their garages and basements for winter, and I also saw a spate of respiratory issues and grief-related conditions at that time. Writing this blog has been very useful for helping me to observe such correspondences between the seasons and my patients' behaviors and ailments.
Maybe if I was more anal in my practice -- a numerologist or astrologer, perhaps -- I would be more concerned with the precise astronomical moment when the seasons shift, but I’m not. I feel my way through all of these Chinese principles more than I religiously observe them. Maybe this Metal season I can transfer some of that organizational ease into my grief-processing and quit being so (ineffectually) rigid in how I try to deal with the grief life brings to me. My wife is worried I'll die of a respiratory disease some day, and she's got some reason to fear such an outcome. From poor processing of grief, to infantile pneumonia, to being the child of cigarette smokers, to being a young adult smoker who held a variety of jobs that used toxic and volatile compounds and wore little or no respiratory protection, I have certainly been rougher on my lungs than my other organs.
However, I have also come the furthest in my life with my lungs. My entry to the world of healing came via breath-centered exercise therapy -- yoga and, especially, Gyrotonics. Using my breath to make myself stronger, quicker, more flexible and more in tune with my body and spirit was one thing, but I really came into my own when I began working with others to help them understand how to expand their use of breath. Therefore the background photo for this post. Yes, as an inexperienced blogger I am limited to the photographic options that blogspot.com offers to me, but the more I think about it, the more pleased I am with the dumbbells. Obviously they are metal; the photographic highlights make them look very white; and they refer to exercise, which got me started on a breath-centered and more balanced life. Done with mindful breathing, exercise can make one less prone to constipation and depression. Being in tune with ones breath can make one less likely to kill oneself with poor judgment and self-destructive habits, less prone to poor grief management and less likely to ruin someone's Friday evening tv-viewing. In other words, my darling wife might say, less likely to be a dumbbell.
Tuesday, July 26, 2011
Late Summer -- the Earth element and the Chinese Almanac
Late Summer is the fifth season on the Chinese calendar, and it is associated with the Earth element. The Earth element has to do with existence right here and now on this earthly plane. In the Late Summer, when the air is warm and humid and when the local harvest is just beginning, we are immersed in the sights, sounds, smells, tastes and thoughts of plenty, but we also worry about the colder, leaner times to come. Late Summer is a pivot in the calendar, from the active yang energy of Spring and Summer to the subdued yin energy of Autumn and Winter.
The Earth element is associated with the stomach and spleen (most Westerners believe the Chinese spleen actually refers to the pancreas), the two primary organs of digestion. Earth's climate is damp, its color is yellow, its flavor is sweet, its sound is singing and its spirit and emotion are both Thought. This may seem strange, as either a spirit or an emotion, but when you consider that on one hand thought can be obsession and on another it can be thoughtfulness or sympathy, it makes more sense. The Earth element, being concerned with earthly existence, also deals with boundary issues -- making sure that you are fulfilling your potential without spilling over into other people's territory or being distracted by earthly delights ("Guilty, your honor! Please have mercy.").
Given that Late Summer is such an important transition time, it is curiously difficult to locate on the calendar. This is due to two things, one philosophical and the other practical, if frustrating. The philosophical issue has to do with two different ways of understanding the Earth season within the five elemental view of the calendar. One way sees the Earth as having its own season, Late Summer, which marks the transition from yang energy to yin energy within the year. The other point of view sees the Earth season as the transition period between each of the other four seasons -- so you'd have four 18-day Earth transition periods per year, one between each season. In practice, an acupuncturist uses both models as they fit the particular situation, but as theory it's pretty messy. However, here in Central PA we have such a clear Late Summer that I always observe it as a distinct season, separate from the Summer and Autumn. Since we can have damp, humid weather any time in the summer, I mark the beginning of Late Summer by the appearance of the first locally grown sweet corn. That should be any day now. In addition, usually the Chinese start their seasons on a new or full moon. Since there is a new moon coming on Sunday, July 31, I figure that Late Summer begins this year on July 31, 2011.
However, the definitive authority, the Chinese Almanac, does not back me up, and in fact says that Autumn begins this year on August 7th. This is the second, practical (and frustrating) reason for the difficulty in knowing the date for Late Summer. The Chinese Almanac is available on paper or online, and is the absolute authority on matters ranging from Chinese fortune telling to what day of the Chinese year it is (July 31, 2011 is the Chinese Lunar Date 7/2/4708). There are various formulas for figuring these things out, but mostly anyone interested in the Chinese point of view simply consults the Almanac, and its word is law. I use
http://www.chinesefortunecalendar.com/FarmerCal.htm, and encourage you to check it out. As you'll see, the Chinese Almanac doesn't currently recognize Late Summer as a distinct season, so it doesn't list a date for the beginning of Late Summer. My guess is that this reflects a general trend in modern China to streamline and "make more reasonable" Chinese traditional medicine and philosophy. Both philosophical points of view regarding the Earth season have solid historical backgrounds, but as I noted, it's messy to have two competing points of view. Especially when you're trying to write a simple reference guide like an almanac.
In spite of the Chinese Almanac's silence on the topic of Late Summer, though, it is a really good time to treat certain conditions, and it would be a shame to miss the opportunity just because of a disagreement about scheduling. If you are having problems with digestion, boundaries, concentration or obsessive thinking, now is a good time to come for an acupuncture treatment. Addictions are pretty much a combination of appetite and poor boundaries, so they would be usefully treated in this season. Furthermore, if you are dreading the coming Autumn and Winter ("I said I'm guilty!"), now is a good time to work on smoothing out the transition. Warm weather and plenty will leave and cold weather and need will take their place whether we want them to or not -- the Earth keeps on a-turning. We can, however, work on our responses to the realities, harsh and sweet, of life on this mortal coil.
The Earth element is associated with the stomach and spleen (most Westerners believe the Chinese spleen actually refers to the pancreas), the two primary organs of digestion. Earth's climate is damp, its color is yellow, its flavor is sweet, its sound is singing and its spirit and emotion are both Thought. This may seem strange, as either a spirit or an emotion, but when you consider that on one hand thought can be obsession and on another it can be thoughtfulness or sympathy, it makes more sense. The Earth element, being concerned with earthly existence, also deals with boundary issues -- making sure that you are fulfilling your potential without spilling over into other people's territory or being distracted by earthly delights ("Guilty, your honor! Please have mercy.").
Given that Late Summer is such an important transition time, it is curiously difficult to locate on the calendar. This is due to two things, one philosophical and the other practical, if frustrating. The philosophical issue has to do with two different ways of understanding the Earth season within the five elemental view of the calendar. One way sees the Earth as having its own season, Late Summer, which marks the transition from yang energy to yin energy within the year. The other point of view sees the Earth season as the transition period between each of the other four seasons -- so you'd have four 18-day Earth transition periods per year, one between each season. In practice, an acupuncturist uses both models as they fit the particular situation, but as theory it's pretty messy. However, here in Central PA we have such a clear Late Summer that I always observe it as a distinct season, separate from the Summer and Autumn. Since we can have damp, humid weather any time in the summer, I mark the beginning of Late Summer by the appearance of the first locally grown sweet corn. That should be any day now. In addition, usually the Chinese start their seasons on a new or full moon. Since there is a new moon coming on Sunday, July 31, I figure that Late Summer begins this year on July 31, 2011.
However, the definitive authority, the Chinese Almanac, does not back me up, and in fact says that Autumn begins this year on August 7th. This is the second, practical (and frustrating) reason for the difficulty in knowing the date for Late Summer. The Chinese Almanac is available on paper or online, and is the absolute authority on matters ranging from Chinese fortune telling to what day of the Chinese year it is (July 31, 2011 is the Chinese Lunar Date 7/2/4708). There are various formulas for figuring these things out, but mostly anyone interested in the Chinese point of view simply consults the Almanac, and its word is law. I use
http://www.chinesefortunecalendar.com/FarmerCal.htm, and encourage you to check it out. As you'll see, the Chinese Almanac doesn't currently recognize Late Summer as a distinct season, so it doesn't list a date for the beginning of Late Summer. My guess is that this reflects a general trend in modern China to streamline and "make more reasonable" Chinese traditional medicine and philosophy. Both philosophical points of view regarding the Earth season have solid historical backgrounds, but as I noted, it's messy to have two competing points of view. Especially when you're trying to write a simple reference guide like an almanac.
In spite of the Chinese Almanac's silence on the topic of Late Summer, though, it is a really good time to treat certain conditions, and it would be a shame to miss the opportunity just because of a disagreement about scheduling. If you are having problems with digestion, boundaries, concentration or obsessive thinking, now is a good time to come for an acupuncture treatment. Addictions are pretty much a combination of appetite and poor boundaries, so they would be usefully treated in this season. Furthermore, if you are dreading the coming Autumn and Winter ("I said I'm guilty!"), now is a good time to work on smoothing out the transition. Warm weather and plenty will leave and cold weather and need will take their place whether we want them to or not -- the Earth keeps on a-turning. We can, however, work on our responses to the realities, harsh and sweet, of life on this mortal coil.
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