EnerQiHealing.com Blog

We are nearing the Autumnal Equinox, which occurs this year on Wednesday, September 22, at 8:09pm Pacific time. In the ten days or so before the shift, we experience the Earth phase of year, according to Chinese cosmology. Earth represents energy that is centered, balanced, and stable–not moving in any direction. For plants, it is a time of ripening, when the growth phase ends and richness unfolds. For humans, it is a time to ground and re-group. We’ve enjoyed the bounty of summer and sharing with others. Now it is time to come home to your body and to the Earth.

The Equinox, which we experience twice a year in March and September, is a single moment in time when the sun is directly in line with the equator, and the lengths of day and night are approximately equal. This stillpoint is observed in many cultures as a time to honor balance.

So you might take a moment to think about what has shifted out of balance in your life. Are you giving too much energy toward something or not enough energy toward another? Have you tilted off your axis? To restore balance and harmony, what can you release from your life? What would you like to bring into your life? What can you do to feel more centered and balanced?

Take time over these next few weeks to pause, ground, and listen. Nourish yourself with moments of stillness. Just be, and allow space for an organic realignment of body, heartmind, and spirit. No effort. Just pause.

May you enjoy even just a glimpse of that stillpoint every day.

Many of you have asked about the Red Dragonfly story I shared with you earlier. Yes, he is still visiting daily for the past six or seven weeks now, except on the days when it is foggy. He likes to come out when the sun is warmest, because that’s when the bugs he eats emerge. I have learned so much about dragonflies by watching his behavior. He is a male, as the females are not as bright red. And he bravely defends his territory, chasing other males out of his jurisdiction. I have not had the opportunity to pet him since the time I took the video Red Dragonfly Loves Music, as he seems to be more on the move these days, hunting bugs and rarely sitting. But he still visits daily and likes to dive bomb me, sometimes hovering in front of my nose or landing on my finger. And he still loves music, though he visits whether or not music is playing. I look forward to my visit with him each day. I’ve learned to pause and observe these precious moments.

For two sunny days this past week, however, Red Dragonfly did not show. I was so sad, thinking his lifespan had run its course. So on the third day, I sat in meditation and asked him to visit me, whether he was still in his dragonfly form or some other form. And within 15 minutes, he swooped just two inches in front of my eyes, flew around me once or twice, and then dashed over the fence. I think his hunting ground has changed, but he’s still stopping in each day now to say hello.

But I have an even more spectacular second chapter to this story. My Mom lives in Texas, and in our 40 years in Texas, we never once saw a red dragonfly. There are blue ones and brown ones, and petite blue-green damselflies galore. Mom deals with a number of chronic health issues and was one day feeling down about her continual struggle to feel good. So she sat in meditation and proclaimed to the universe that she was so tired of her BROKEN body. She asked for a sign–some reassurance–that she would again one day be able to not only walk or run with ease, but to FLY. Within the next fifteen minutes, she walked out to the mailbox, and when she came back to her doorstep, something that looked like a red leaf was on her door mat. In fact, she thinks she stepped on part of it. She bent down for a closer look and–you guessed it–it was a Red Dragonfly! It had only three wings and it looked to be hobbling–a BROKEN body. She wasn’t sure if she injured him or if he was just limping along because it was missing a wing. So she picked him up gently on a paper towel, so as not to hurt him, and placed him in the outstretched hands of a statue of St. Francis (the patron saint of animals) that she keeps by her front door. She begged St. Francis to help this little creature. Crying, she could barely stand to watch, so she went inside and peered through the window. And soon after, the dragonfly fluttered its wings, and fluttered a bit more and a bit more. And then she watched it FLY straight up and away, never to be seen again.

Now, you tell me that all the energy of the universe is not interconnected. Not only did this sign appear to reassure my Mom, but it appeared in the form of a Red Dragonfly–just like this marvelous creature who’s become my friend.

I remain…simply amazed.

I’d like to share with you an experience I find inspiring and amazing. I am continually thrilled at the plethora of creatures that meander through my backyard. We live on Santa Rosa Creek, and therefore our yard has become a traffic pattern of cats, deer, raccoons, opossums, squirrels, wild turkeys, bitterns, egrets, robins, butterflies, and many more. These tame creatures often allow us to stand just feet away from them.

But none has captured my attention as much as this one red dragonfly who, I’ve discovered, loves music. I was sitting outside after lunch one day, playing my Native American flute, when a bright red dragonfly hovered in front of me and appeared to be listening. Whenever I stopped playing, he/she would zoom right in front of my face, as if to ask for more. This went on for half an hour.

Even more remarkable, the dragonfly returns to the same place in my yard each day at the same time–just after lunch–waiting for a concert. If I don’t have my flute in hand, the dragonfly is just as happy with flute music played from my laptop. He/she will fly or sit close by and enjoy, sometimes even lighting on my finger. Perhaps any music will do. Maybe the dragonfly would just as easily enjoy Metallica. I haven’t tried it. The flute feels right for now.

We talk so much about universal energy in my classes–how everything is vibration and all is one. When I sit with the music and the dragonfly, I feel warm and connected. It reminds me that I am the dragonfly and the music, and they are me.

So this summer, I invite you to “tune in” to the spectacular wonders of nature that may be waiting for you in your backyard. We simply have to stop and notice.
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My Red Dragonfly allowed me to video it sitting on my hand and petting it. Amazing!
Video

Happy Summertime! Summer is the season of joy. Yet how often are we glowing with joy in life? We have so much to do, to plan, to worry about. We experience many emotions daily, but pure joy may not be at the top of that list. So this month, I’d like to share with you a reading from my classes that was quite popular. It comes from the book 365 Tao: Daily Meditations by Deng Ming-Dao.

“Worry is an addiction that interferes with compassion. Worry is a problem that seems to be rampant. Perhaps it is due to the nature of our overly advanced civilization; perhaps it is a measure of our own spiritual degeneracy. Whatever the source, it is clear that worry is not useful. It is a cancer of the emotions–concern gone compulsive. It eats away at body and mind.

It does no good to say, “Don’t think about it.” You’ll only worry more. It is far better to keep walking your path, changing what you can. The rest must be dissolved in compassion. In this world of infants with immune deficiencies, racial injustice, economic imbalance, personal violence, and international conflict, it is impossible to address everyone’s concerns. Taking care of yourself and doing something good for those whom you meet is enough. That is compassion, and we must exercise it even in the face of overwhelming odds.

Whenever you meet a problem, help if it is in your power to do so. After you have acted, withdraw and be unconcerned about it. Walk on without ever mentioning it to anybody. Then there is no worry, because there has been action.”

Wishing you many days free from worry and filled with compassion and joy!

Summer will soon be upon us. As we move closer to the Summer Solstice on June 21, I have recently been reflecting on the spontaneous nature of summertime. Summer represents Fire energy in Chinese medicine—like the active, expanding, quick-changing quality of dancing flames. I remember feeling free and joyful as a child when summer came and schedules lightened, allowing more time to follow whatever whim popped into my head each day—making up games in the field behind my house, calling up friends to play, or dreaming up some new creative arts project to dig into. Being a Metal element personality (forever organizing and structuring my life), I am not naturally spontaneous. Yet I do still feel such a great sense of freedom indulging in spontaneity, when I give myself the chance.

The word spontaneous is defined as “proceeding from natural feeling or native tendency without external constraint” and “arising from a momentary impulse.” I find it amusing that all of my current practices and teachings—Yoga, Qigong, and Reiki—began as momentary impulses. I felt suddenly inspired and drawn to these healing arts and, more importantly, followed my impulses to study them, without so much as a tidbit of experience with them when I began. It has been 13 years since the first of these impulses hit me, and following these whims has completely changed me, my life, and my career from the inside out.

So what impulses are knocking at your door lately? Are you so structured or so busy that you resist momentary insights and opportunities? Or are you just the opposite—impulsively scattering yourself to the winds and needing more structure? Summer is a nice time to play with the balance of the fun and the serious sides of life.

And here’s a bit of spontaneity for you. Literally as I write this, I am wondering how to conclude this message, when all of a sudden, I receive my inspirational email from the DailyOM entitled, “Letting Life Unfold.” It says, “Our lives are guided by natural rhythms that are particular to each of us and cannot be altered by force of will alone. Life itself is a journey made up of processes and events that manifest before us only to be swept away when time marches on. Whether we envision ourselves creating a career, building a family, or developing the self, we instinctively know when the time has come for us to realize our dreams because all that is involved comes together harmoniously. When the time is right, the passage of destiny cannot be blocked.”

May you realize your dreams in divine moments of spontaneity.

As we move further into our active spring and summer seasons, I’d like to share with you a theme I used in my yoga classes recently. We spend much of our daily life engaging with people, projects, and responsibilities. And everywhere that we scatter our attention, we also scatter our energy. As I’m always saying, energy flows wherever we place our attention, right? If you feel like you’re tackling 10,000 things, you are spreading your energy far and wide, and it is no surprise that you’re also tired and overwhelmed.

I am quite aware of this myself, as I continue to teach a dozen classes each week, see clients, and teach workshops–spreading my attention and energy among at least 200 people every week. I’m also quite aware of the need to “come home” to my body on a regular basis. In Sanskrit and yogic terms, this is called pratyahara or “withdrawal of the senses.” We take a few moments to filter out external awareness (sounds, people, to do lists, etc.), and tune in to our inner awareness.

Take a moment now to just close your eyes and dive into the inner landscape of your body, leaving the outer world somewhere off in the distance. Observe how your body is feeling right now. Observe your breath. Observe your thoughts. No judgments. Just live inside your body.

After a few breaths or a minute or two, open your eyes and notice how you feel–perhaps more grounded, centered, calm. I especially like to do this practice outdoors, where I not only feel nourished by turning my attention inward, but I am also energized by the sunshine, the trees, and the fresh air.

When you call back all your attention and all your energy, you come back home to your peaceful center, and you also feel more empowered to get back to those 10,000 things. Stop and refuel as often as needed, before your tank runs out.

You have everything you need. You are already home. Look within.

And we move, once again, into the Wood phase of the year, according to Chinese Medicine. Wood represents the pioneering spirit – that drive which inspires us to begin new projects and make changes in life. Spring is a great time for new beginnings. We root into the earth, like a tree, and reach upward toward the sun.

This powerful Wood energy, however, does have its limits. If we set a goal for ourselves and then find obstacles in our path, we can become frustrated – either trudging ahead in anger or collapsing back in a heap. So the key is to push forward, but remain flexible and open-hearted, maneuvering around obstacles with graceful determination.

I saw this concept in action while on my retreat in Bali. The Balinese drive their cars and motorbikes through narrow streets, threading through each other in a tangled web of continual motion. Yet no one honks their horn, and everyone yields to the others without anger or incident. In fact, this is how the Balinese live their lives. They busily move through their day, but take time to stop as you pass by to bring their hands to their hearts and greet you with a true smile and earnest concern. They are constantly making preparations for worship and festivals to come, but they live in the present with joy and love.

So this spring season might be a nice time to dust off your new years resolutions (or make some new ones) and get moving. What fresh start would you like to set in motion? Begin taking steps now, but know that life will throw you many curves. Honor your goals, and remember to yield with an open mind and open heart.

Om SwastiAstu (“May God shower you with blessings” in Balinese).

Happy Chinese New Year! February 14, 2010, rang in the Year of the Metal Tiger. In Chinese astrology, the Tiger is a dynamic, courageous, and powerful animal, with an unpredictable and explosive nature. Metal represents dry, cutting energy. So the hot passion of the Tiger and the cold steel of Metal combine to make this Metal Tiger year one of dramatic changes coming at us fast and hard. This is quite an abrupt shift from the Year of the Ox in 2009, ruled by the Ox’s plodding, hard work and very slow progress.

But don’t worry. Just being aware that turbulent waters lie ahead gives us the opportunity to meet challenges with the gusto of a Tiger and steel ourselves to ride the waves with skill. Happily for me, it is my year! I was born in a Year of the Tiger – 1962, a Water Tiger year. (Learn more about your Chinese horoscope and how this year affects you at:

http://www.astrology.com/chinese-astrology

Those born in a Year of the Tiger are intelligent, optimistic, honest, engaging, lively, powerful, charismatic, courageous, and lucky. They can also be unpredictable and pounce at you at any time. (Lucky for those around me, the tranquility of Water in my sign calms down my Tiger ferocity!)

So expect that 2010 may keep us personally and collectively in a state of upheaval. Tigers and the signs that are compatible with Tigers (especially the Dragon and the Horse) have the best chance of thriving in this erratic year. Other signs are wise to stay ready and flexible, able to maneuver through the changes with a bit of the quick and powerful energy of Tiger. And remember that all is temporary. Turbulent Tiger energy will soon fade into the placid energy of the Rabbit that follows in 2011, which will surely be a welcome change.

Until then, catch that Tiger by the tail!

And this Water Tiger will be dipping her paws in the water in Bali next week! I’m sure I’ll have a lot to share with you when I return. If you weren’t able to join me on this yoga~qigong retreat, keep watching for future retreats.

One of the basic principles in yoga philosophy, as outlined in Patanjali’s Yoga Sutras, is “santosha” – a Sanksrit word meaning “contentment.” I used to have a hard time with the concept of contentment. The word seemed to imply apathy or a resolved acceptance, as if you have settled for something. Perhaps this is because my basic nature is to be constantly driven – to produce, to create, to make something of myself in the world. My chattering mind tells me that to be content would not be productive.

I’ve been re-reading Eckhart Tolle’s The Power of Now, which offers so many reminders that the repetitive patterns in our minds can really lead us astray. As I practice being “the watcher” of my thoughts, I realize how many of them are about being productive – about proving my worth by being a good wife, parent, daughter, teacher, etc. I am scattering my energy into the past and into the future.

I know now that to be content is not to give up or become stagnant, but to be fully aware of Now and to blissfully accept “what is” in this moment. When we sit quietly and watch our thoughts, we occasionally notice tiny spaces of no thought and sometimes become lost in pockets of timeless awareness. When we reach that state of ultimate balance – a state of no desire – we not only feel contented but we feel blissful. We perceive the universe not from the mind or emotions, but we feel its vibrancy in our body, our energy field, and our spirit. We joyfully surrender to the moment because we remember that there is no separation between ourselves and all that is.

The irony is that all creative ideas and inspirations come from this inner contentment, not from our thinking mind. If we try to produce something through thought (like writing, painting, or finding a solution to a problem), we usually hit roadblocks. But if we relax into contentment, a wealth of wisdom and creativity springs forth, as if from nowhere. So I am now learning to allow more moments of emptiness into my daily life, knowing that I am actually being productive by doing nothing. My teaching is slowing down, and less is becoming more. I love Yin Yoga for its simplicity and Qigong for its deep connection with the universe. I’m thinking less and just vibrating more when giving Reiki treatments.

Life is manic. We all crave stillness. Don’t just sit there, do NOTHING!

Happy New Year! Wishing you an abundance of blessings in 2010.

On the Winter Solstice (December 21), we shifted into the Water phase of the year. According to Traditional Chinese Medicine, where our health is influenced by our deep connection to nature and its rhythms, this is the time of year to dive deeply inward. The trees have dropped their leaves, withdrawing energy from their limbs and sinking it back into their roots. We should follow this example by spending more time in quiet stillness and introspection. However, with our typical holiday season rush and mile-long list of New Year’s resolutions, we are often busy and scattered at year’s end.

We could learn from water’s example. Water literally goes with the flow. It can be tossed about by wind and storm, but it always returns to balance. It yields into any container you put it in. Water is soft, yet drop by drop, persevering over eons, it can carve great canyons. The Water element is associated with the colors blue and black, energy yielding, the direction north, and the emotion of fear. The meridians (the body’s energy pathways) associated with the Water phase are the kidney and bladder channels. The kidney meridian runs along the front of the body, from the sole of each foot to the top of the breastbone. The bladder channel runs from the eyes, over the head, down the back and the backs of the legs to the little toes.

When our life force energy (qi) flows freely along these circuits, we feel in touch with our inner spirit, creativity, and imagination. We know intuitively when to surge forward and when to pool and yield. If you are a Water element personality type, you continually seek the deeper answers to life, crave tranquil solitude, and are usually viewed as wise and serene. Yet when your Water element is out of balance, you may become overpowering or eccentric (excessive water) or withdrawn and fearful (deficient water).

To keep our Water element in balance, it is important to remember to balance toughness with tenderness and detachment with openness. Weight-bearing exercises are helpful for boosting overall vitality, which is closely linked with Kidney Qi and the Water element. And most importantly, it is tremendously healing to clear a few moments each day to pause and reflect. How about now?