Tuesday, February 14, 2012

QiGong: Following in a Purpose-Prone World

With cotton gloves on to protect your hands, you climb the near vertical
ascent, pulling on the chain links, following the hand carved stone steps

someone made for you 800 years ago.
Most of us are sold on the concept of having a purpose, being productive, having daily aims we apply strong focusing abilities toward. We celebrate leaders, leadership skills and might feel a little smug more often than not that we aren't one of those follower-types.  For myself, I am challenging this today. Most non-western methods in medicine and spiritual work are about following.  That is watching, actively listening, acutely observing and taking cues from subtle responses of the organism. Today, I wish to be less superficially informed in my actions and more embodied (inclusive of the body's fuller intelligence) when I specifically direct energy (in action, words, even thoughts)

Following is a story of holistic nursing in action with this in mind.

Nights are when the babies get weighed, washed and fed and I'm in the 'crying room', stripping and dipping these brand new infants. I am incredulous of all the screaming that goes on during this activity. I somehow think it should be a sensual, pleasurable activity for everyone, but for all the years I've done this or watched it being done by others, it's a perfunctory exercise, something to get through. I have a hypothesis I want to test: babies will cry less, be more at ease if you listen to their body language, and follow their qi (energy) while bathing them. So I try this. I undress them, weigh them, handle them as I drip water over them, wipe their bodies down. It's really interesting. When my attention is on myself and them, I surprisingly find them arching backwards, leading with the crown of their head or going in directions I usually (in my role as nurse) counter or "right." As I meet them where they want to be, I can feel in their little bodies the recognition of me listening to and following them. Besides occasional squawks, my kids are fairly quiet when I bathe them. This draws attention to me and them and the veteran baby nurses come over, watch and ask, "what are you doing there?... what's going on?"

It's not an easy job 'listening' to a wet baby's energy and following it. It requires all my attention and I find myself exhausted after doing this with three kids. But this incredible raw openness they have and the subsequent tensions and relaxations sensed in their bodies as one handles them with attention is quite remarkable. When I let them be what and who they are without trying to "right" or control them, their contentedness appears complete. Their perfect and still containment while feeding after this "Qi" bath is inspiring.

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