My Path in Qi Gong

The seeds of my path in Qi Gong were sown as I grew up with hippie parents in a working-class section of Brooklyn. Of my grandparents, one was a low-level gangster, and the other was a Veteran of D-Day. My father started smoking pot in the mid-sixties, and I grew up dancing to the Rolling Stones, Jimi Hendrix, the Beatles, etc. So I had this weird mix of free-spirit hippieness and a not-so-healthy dose of working-class pragmatism. My parents were into alternative healing, and my father even took Tai Chi from Robert Chuckrow in Westchester, NY. I attended a few classes but was so young and hyper that it didn’t grab me.
 

When I started karate in 1979, it was mainly for self-defense, but I did become interested in the Asian aesthetic and some martial wisdom—as much as a teenager could. 

Then, as an awkward high schooler, my need for self-defense grew and overshadowed any aesthetic musings. My experience with trauma and feeling alienated was in full bloom. When my karate school closed, I got darker and more aggressive, which lasted for a few years. At that time, I met Rocky Graziano, Jake La Motta, and a few other famous boxers. After that experience, I felt kind of turned off by fighting. Even as a 17-year-old in pre-politically correct days, hearing the N-word shouted out when a Black former Heavyweight champion entered the room didn't sit right—adding to that their faces had been remodeled from being hit there so many times. 

After fighting in the Golden Gloves Tournament at Madison Square Garden and my experiences with some boxing champs, fighting was not a great life choice. I also met a girl who was into dancing and art, and my friends turned me onto Pink Floyd’s music; their albums, The Wall, Wish You Were Here, and Dark Side of the Moon, notably Eclipse, showed me a vision of understanding psychological pain and alienation and being in tune with the Universe seemed like the right path. Then, I started taking drugs to explore a shamanistic union with nature. I went to art school to pursue this further. I spent the next 10 years pursuing a vision of art that was trying to become in tune with nature. I attended a College in a mountain town in New York State. This was my first experience in the mountains. So, journeying to the mountains and taking psychedelics became a passion. I became frustrated with the school’s demands and wanted to be a free spirit. I lost my pragmatic side. 

After a series of profound life changes, I left everything in NY and decided to hitchhike to California as a free spirit, taking a copy of the Tao Teh Ching with me. I eventually landed in Taos, NM, and some truly magical things sparked a spiritual transformation. Unfortunately, I was on the receiving end of some nasty experiences and witnessed the backstabbing all too common in the art world. To be clear, I was also not in a mentally healthy space either. So I left Taos and headed to Seattle just when grunge took off, and I felt at home there. After more backstabbing experiences in the art world, I began questioning what art even offers me. I also became friends with the girlfriend of Alice In Chains’s Lead singer, Demri. I saw her 3 days before she was to die from a drug overdose. She looked like an old woman. When I heard she died, I knew this path wasn’t for me. The pursuit of fame is a black hole filled with backstabbing and an ever-present gravitational pull toward an early death. 

It seemed like the universe was looking out for me, and this theme kept coming up in my life; I knew I needed a change, and martial arts saved me once as a young man. So, I knew it was something I needed again.  I attended an Aikido school in Seattle. I learned a great deal, but the teachers demanded a large amount of money for testing. When I said I didn’t know if I had it, the teacher yelled at me. I knew right there I was done with that school. Moreover, I was experiencing some pain from injuries as a young man, so I spoke with my Naturopathic Doctor, and he suggested I take Tai Chi. I had already been doing a lot of acupuncture for the pain, so it seemed like a natural progression. 

I loved Tai Chi and began practicing every day. I started reading every book on Qi Gong I could find, knowing this was my path. My chronic wrist pain and early exposure to Asian healing methods seem to come to fruition in my study of Tai Chi and Qi Gong. 

This started me getting involved in health; my wrist injury was the main instigator of this pursuit, leading me to understand more about the human body and Chinese Medicine. I became fascinated with the body and Qi Gong and opened the door to a path that unified nature, health, and the body. A friend in my Tai Chi class told me about a Qi Gong master named Dr. Wong. I immediately attended his class that Saturday. Dr. Wong began discussing Traditional Chinese Medicine theory and how Qi Gong was an integral path.  

Soon after, I attended the famous Energetic Retreat in Washington State, where I first met Fook Yueng. Fook Yueng is a renowned Qi Gong master who demonstrated some serious skills even in his 80s. At that retreat, I also met Gao Fu, a famous Chen Tai Chi Master who was also in her 80s. Both these masters were so healthy and fit that I knew I needed to commit to this path. I also thought to myself that I felt like my old art school days of tripping in the mountain, but I was able to do it without drugs, and more importantly, it was positive and healing with no adverse side effects. 

Sometimes, I get down on myself for not sticking with one school or one teacher, but I have learned to trust my body. The wisdom, the Qi, is there; it always gives you what you need if you listen.

The Unforgiving Algorithm of The Universe

I have been experimenting with break falls in Aikido using Tai Chi for muscle repair and incorporating dietary protocols to repair muscle. Break falls are used when a throw is hard, and you land with your body directly onto a matted floor. Falling is tough and jolts your body, and many people get injured.  Many older students, who are, mind you, not much older than me, have cautioned me from doing too many break falls, and all of them have difficulty with parts of their body, such as shoulders and knees.

At 59, I feel really good. I do have a minor shoulder injury that I've been using acupuncture and massage to heal. Weirdly, for some unknown reason, in Aikido and other martial arts, many people do not take advantage of science-based methods of body restoration like nutrition, massage, acupuncture, and therapeutic movement.

This whole experiment is fun. I'm figuring out how to use quality protein intake, nutrient timing, Tai Chi, acupuncture, and massage therapy to heal my body and allow me to access my full potential. Specifically, going to regular acupuncture has afforded me quicker recovery, which allows me to work harder with fewer layoffs. So I can make exponential progress in skill development and body toughness. The injuries that used to make me take two or three days off heal faster, and I can return to training in a shorter period of time. 

During that time, I am not doing Aikido; I'm going for a hike, and I walk my dog, Ripley, at least two to three times a day. Sometimes, I get up to 14,000 steps per day, and I average about 10,000 steps per day. 

Another key ingredient in this is I am not stopping at all. For many years, I used to think oh, don’t push it and rest. Now, I just keep moving through it all. I have found this promotes faster healing. Rest is counterproductive and even detrimental. That said, I will go lighter on any area that feels strained, and I am careful not to reinjure those spots but I keep moving. It is important to note that overworking can backfire, so strategic rests are built into this.  

This exploration of body development has led me to an exciting discovery about nature and the universe. 

We all know the universal law of what goes up must come down, but few know the harder you work to improve, the greater you can handle tough shit and the more luck you have. Now, here is the unforgiving part: the less you work (even if it is a little bit), is a contagion because the more you let up on something, you atrophy, and then your overall capacity decreases. Your old injuries come back. The longer you sit, the greater the chance that those nagging injuries return.  

To understand it, you must understand how large data sets influence the mean. It is not about binging with a 6-mile hike on Saturday and sitting around all weekend. Consistent effort has a bigger impact on the average than one or two big activities. So, walking your dog 2 miles per day, EVERYDAY will have a great impact on your health than one 6-mile hike once per week. This is how you fool your body into doing more. You tweak the mileage little by little. Start off walking your dog 1 mile per day, every day, then increase it a little over time. The algorithm takes over because your body will tell you to do more; it will get bored with 1 mile. Then, you will have a consistent baseline to increase the mileage.   

The same algorithm can be applied to muscle building, school grades, and so much more. It is also how to improve in your career. Little improved changes over time are how the universe operates, so why wouldn't it work for you? especially knowing that the exact opposite momentum is true. That is not by making these little changes; you are declining gradually. Many people find themselves unhappy with their lives or seemingly all of a sudden with 30 pounds of extra weight. This only happens gradually. The cause is often found in the small details of one's habits, like extra snacking, extra beer or soda, or taking a rest too often. 

The tortoise knew this, and the hare did not. 

What People Don't Get About Minimalist Shoes!

Conditioning is not abusive, but it is challenging and rough.

A major thing people don't understand about body conditioning is the principle of 1 mm at a time. It's not about binge and purge types of exercise. I remember an old friend who commented on a video of me banging my forearm against a wooden beam as an integral part of my martial arts training. Her statement alluded to me doing self-harm like I was an angry kid punching a wall.

That example sums up what people need help understanding about conditioning. Little by little, you mold your body over time.

Take wearing minimal sandals on the trail in a rocky desert.

People think, “Oh my God, you're crazy!” “You are going to destroy your feet!”

They don't get that it's a skill you build up over time. Your feet get tougher and stronger, directly affecting your connection to the planet. The whole idea of putting your feet in some heavily “supported” shoe is counterproductive to conditioning your body for the long journey of life.

The more you condition your feet, the longer you can walk without discomfort. This extended walking time contributes to better overall fitness, making the journey of life more enjoyable and less painful. It's a long-term investment in your health and well-being.

Wearing minimal shoes is not just about the footwear; it's a skill. It involves strategic foot placement, which in turn reduces the risk of injuries. It's not a complex science, but for some reason, people tend to overprotect themselves. This modern trend of heavily 'supported' shoes deviates from the majority of human existence. All reactio

Seasonal change and musical chairs

Transitioning from winter to spring, I felt like I was in a game of musical chairs, and there was an established groove from January to May. Then Memorial Day hit, and the music stopped. I was left without a seat and felt disconcerted and dumbfounded for a week. I realized that all life is changing; adapting when the music stops is what being a Tai Chi master is all about. School graduations, college kids returning home, and seasonal workers leaving are what we need to embrace. 

In Aikido, we practice Chiba Sensei’s 36 Jo basics and his choreographed two-person form, Sansho. I mention it because students (myself included) always complain that the parts do not align. It almost seems disjointed. 

This weekend, I realized that this disjointedness was intentional. From what I hear, Chiba Sensei was no slouch, and his intellect is well documented. For example, he makes you NOT step forward at the beginning of one of his 36 movements. This throws beginners off. It threw me off - it throws everyone off. My impulse was to step through, and while doing the form, I always felt awkward, like I tripped on a root. This is just one example of many traps that lie in wait for you.  

From multiple secondhand sources, I heard that Chiba Sensei abhorred rote movements. So what better way to protect your students from a lethal pitfall than to bake smaller trips and obstacles into your curriculum? The names of specific techniques don’t always match from one section to the other; the numbers of techniques and their placement in the form don’t match either. If they did you could easily coast through the whole 36, instead, you need to take a machete and cut your path through the jungle, in other words you need to earn it.  

Dunn Sensei has planted a few boobytraps of his own. On one of the walls of the Dojo, there are three paintings by a deceased and well-known painter that are easily within reach of being hit. Students beg Sensei to place plexiglass on them, but Sensei is vehemently against doing that. We need to be mindful of where we are in space and time. 

Approaching my 60s, I am embracing change and feel a little ashamed that I expected life to be consistent.