Happy Birthday to The Spots

Hmm, rabbits are on the topic list up there on the banner, guess it's time to do something on rabbits. Wait! art is up there too, so if I put up sketches of rabbits then it's a two-fer. Last Fall Boyfriend gave permission to get another rabbit. My Big Rabbit, Bandit, had passed that April after several long medical issues, months of nursing and enormous vet bills (another story for another time, but I can understand why he might not want a repeat experience) and I had been sort of despondent ever since, having a rabbit sized hole in one's heart can do that. Our local rabbit rescue organization is The Rabbit Haven so on September 29th I went to one of their adoption shows, unsure whether I could find the right rabbit, but willing to try. I ignored the rabbit labeled  "Rabbit of the Week" he was really too cute, kind of fancy really, someone else would snatch him up just because he got top billing.

 My criteria were simple: healthy ( all Rabbit Haven adoptables are

 fully vetted), good box habits, good human connection. I held a few rabbits, they were OK, but not "the one". I carefully examined the pens to see which rabbits didn't pee outside their boxes. Admittedly the show is a stressful situation and even the tidiest rabbit might mess up a bit, OTOH it is a good test. Only one rabbit passed the test, Tyler, but he was the too cute" Rabbit of the Week". I picked him up and we had a lap sit, he settled in pretty well and relaxed. A gaggle of little  girls came and sat by me, one commented that I should bring that bunny 

home. I wondered if she was planted by Rabbit Haven to say such things, but she seemed quite genuine. Tyler was pretty nice, but I just wasn't sure. I put him back and held some other rabbits, then saw someone holding him and talking about taking him home, I couldn't bare it. Boldly and aggressively I went up this interloper and attending Rabbit Haven volunteer and said that actually I was going to adopt this one, and that sealed the deal. Tyler came home. We set him up in an Xpen in the living room. We learned he will not tolerate being locked in his pen, knows exactly where he wants his box by leaving a pile of beans, he likes to run and will not be denied access to the Study, Behind the Wood Stove or Behind the Couch, only actual doors can keep him away from where he wants to go. A few months later I became more and more worried that Tyler was missing rabbit company,   it seemed an unfair thing to have to live one's whole life without seeing another of the same species. Tyler's, sister Sydney, was still available for adoption, she was the last of the family to be looking for a home. Tyler and I went to meet her and Auntie Heather from Rabbit Haven at a neutral location. Sydney had gotten a bit overweight in her foster home. On several occasions she had been offered the opportunity to bond with other rabbits, but she had ignored them; she was depressed and disenchanted. Her meeting with Tyler went OK, she didn't ignore him, signs were good. She came home and after a break-in bonding period of four days they got the run of the house. This lead to a wild period for the two of them, running around, not willing to be petted, etc......I think having so much more room to roam triggers more instinctive behaviors.

 In retrospect I would have given them less room and increased roaming only gradually. We are slowly regaining our homosapian/lagomorph interspecies social skills; Tyler will allow petting and picking up, Sydney has allowed some petting and will come to see me. Snuggle Bun 101 is just around the corner. Sydney's habits are not as gentile as Tyler's, her box habits are a bit untidy and she has destroyed the back of the couch and (Shhhhhh

 didn't tell) some wood work has been chewed. there is still a certain amount of behavior modification that needs to take place. Tyler and Sydney are English Spots born sometime in early May, the family was found wandering about San Jose, you can see their "baby video" by clicking here, be aware it is awfully cute. Tyler and Sydney are both fun and challenging to draw, they do move around a bit and their shapes keep changing, it can be hard to get a handle on their spots. Kimon Nicolaides says in The Natural Way to Draw (and I paraphrase because I loaned out my book) that drawing and sketching have an authenticity and honesty that painting cannot capture. I tell this to my students at the High School when their first desire after finishing a quick drawing is to throw it away." Look at it in two weeks," I tell them," let's not be hasty."

Drawings from from the top: Tyler, Tyler, Sydney, Sydney, Tyler and Sydney (T on the left)

My Mother was a List Maker

My mother is in a box on a shelf in the living room, I think it is a cedar box, though it might be mahogany. I never unwrapped it since picking it up from the funeral parlor. It is quite small, somehow I hadn't expected it to be so small, 81/2 by 7 by 4 inches. At some point my brothers and I are going to disperse her ashes, but for now she is visiting. My mother passed on the 29th of December of last year at 6:30 p.m.. Her downward spiral and subsequent demise is another story. Following is what I read a the memorial;

My mother was list maker, in her honor I have 

made some lists about her.

Animals kept as family pets (mostly)

Chickens

Geese

Goats (Lily and Mandy)

Rabbits

Dogs

Cats

Chameleon

Snakes

Guinea Pigs

Rats

Mice

Iguana

Toads

Parakeet

Japanese Quail

Gold Fish

Too many Black Mollies

Countries Visited

Denmark

Germany

France

Belgium

England

Holland

Sweden

Norway

USSR (when it was the USSR)

Finland

Brazil

Japan

India

Korea

China

Canada

Sports

Track

Basketball

Swimming

Rowing

Tennis

Biking

Hiking

Sailing

Volunteer Work

PTA

Yard Duty

Poll Worker

Recording For the Blind

Stanford Medical Library

Bargain Bin (Children's Health Council)

Sayings

A word to wise is sufficient.

If you want something done right, do it yourself.

It's not what you look; it's what you do that is important.

Mixing substances together can yield unexpected results.

If you are thirsty, drink water.

Avoid empty calories.

Wash your hands before you eat.

Be efficient.

Keep everything under control.

Wear clean underwear.

Don't stay in wet clothes.

Don't turn up the heat, put on a sweater.

Turn off that light if you are not using it.

Wear comfortable shoes that you can walk or run in if need be.

Don't call children "kids", they are not baby goats.

Don't let anyone slip you a Mickey.

Things I learned from my mother.

Read to your children.

Have pets.

Learn the proper names of plants and animals.

Get some exercise.

Eat healthy food.

Recycle whatever you can.

Embarrass your children by being yourself, it builds character, yours and theirs.

Enjoy your children's interests. 

Play games with your children.

Grammar is important.

Miscellaneous

Called all young boys "son".

Referred to her drippy nose as her "English Nose".

Had big feet for her height.

Wore glasses from the age of 5.

Got in fights at school.

Was an excellent speller her whole life.

Could do math in her head her whole life.

Had a Boston terrier when young.

Referred to herself as "a little old lady in tennis shoes."

Got a ticket for driving too slow in the Mojave Desert.

She could have said "no"

When her kitchen was used to boil a dead frog so Ben could extract the bones and reconstruct the skeleton.

When her kitchen was used by Ben to make mead, honey was spilled.......

When Nick wanted to paint his room red and have one entire wall a blackboard.

When Diana wanted a horse.

When the boys wanted a BB gun.

When John decided to become a sailor.

When Diana wanted to put a "Shirley Chisholm for President" sticker on the car.

When Nick brought a rattlesnake to Thanksgiving Dinner in a Mason jar. (The snake graced the table through the meal).

She Liked

To look a the moon

To look at trees, "trees are a great thing to a girl raised in New York City."

Words

Chocolate

Licorice

Rocks

Nature

Walks

A bright pink Mohair sweater that got ripped in a bike accident.

Wearing shorts

Post Its.

Back From China

                                                     

My son returned from China this last Monday, he went as part of his Senior Class trip. Tours are not as expensive as they could be and we have a big China connection at the school, about 1/3 of the students are Chinese. It isn't really a Foreign Exchange Student Program as just a Foreign Student Program, since none of our kids have gone to study in China. One of the languages offered at the High School is Chinese, a growing trend across the country.                          

Although he has claimed to hate cameras and photography

he did manage to take quite a few pictures and it was nice for his old mom (that would be me) to able to see some portions of his journey.

 

                                                                                                                        He really captured some excellent images. I keep telling him he has a lovely sense of composition, even though it is not exactly what a teenager wants to hear.                                               

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                

                                                                                                                                                                                         

He said he had no complaints, so I guess it was an awesome tour.

 Highlights were the Great Wall and the Acrobats, 

 and, of course the food, each meal better than the last; Peking Duck, The 18 course Bun Banquet, and Mongolian BBQ. Downsides, though not bad enough to register a formal complaint seem to have been lack of drinking water (for sale only), heat,

 and the amount of attention a 6'5" white guy gets in a country

 where the average height for a male is 5'6". 

 

 He did observe to his dismay gross pollution

 notably the air in Beijing (bodes not well for atheletes)

 and the Yangtze River. I post here some of the monument and architectural type photos. 

All photos photos courtesy of Dexter Simmons, enjoy!

Unexpectedly Saddened

I find myself unexpectedly saddened by the death of Eight Belles in the Kentucky Derby. It is one of those incidents that bring a cascade of thoughts and memories, a reminder of the difficulties of maintaining harmony and balance in this modern world. I imagine horse racing to have in roots in the celebration of the horse; what an amazing and supernatural event this riding of a horse must have seemed to the first equestrians. Let's see who can go the fastest and not fall off. No doubt it was learned early on that it was not just the horse or just the rider that made the winner but a combination; 1+1= >2 . A symbiosis ensured between human and horse, the latter was fed and protected (when possible) from predators, and the former was provided with swift transportation. The domestication of the horse allowed any number historical events in the human realm to take place,  notably the invasion of Europe (and China, too) by Ghengis Kahn (his hordes "introducing" sauerkraut to the populace, so it certainly wasn't all bad) and the Spanish conquest of the Americas, which left some horses, runaways or abandoned, who became the noble Mustangs, now tragically endangered. On the home front horses, and oxen too, made farming possible on a larger scale creating surplus that could be sold or bartered; economic structures ensued. As the centuries passed humans created specialized niches for their equine companions. Some were fast, some could jump, some were fast and could jump too, some were strong. Always there were those who loved the animals and those who wanted to use them for their own self interests, and doubtless those had were a mixture of both motives. As a teenager I was lucky enough to have the oppurtunity to ride. In retrospect I think my mother agreed to this dangerous occupation both from her own unrequited love of horses and it seemed safer that the sex, drugs, and rock 'n' roll teens of my generation were getting into. My horse was a sort of rescued race track thorobred, he had become entangled in a barbedwire fence, the time it took for him to heal put him, age wise, out of the running. I enjoyed most just caring for this enormous shining creature. I groomed him to an immaculate state on a daily basis and when show time came created perfect braids up and down his long neck. What I didn't enjoy was the, what I felt was excessive, use of force to get the horses to do what was considered to be the right thing, like jump over  four foot fences. In the big picture the various sorts of bits, martingales, studded nose bands and nubby spurs were not too bad. But I refused to use them. Probably resulting in my not always getting all the way around the jump course. Flat classes were more my forte`, both Pleasure and Equitation. Before my teen years were out my horse began to come up lame. He had a genetic condition of the Nervicular bone (a small bone in the foot that becomes inflamed). Although we thought we had him vetted for this, in fact because the previous owner had paid for the vet, the full report had gone only to them. At any rate I wouldn't have missed a moment with Nicodemus, not one second. He lived out the rest of his days in hilly pasture with an occasional trail ride from his owner who bought him from us for $1. Back to Eight Belles. Breeding for racehorses is inbreeding. Resulting, for one, in weaker legs. It has been conjectured, not by myself, but by Those Who Know, that horses have gotten as fast as they are going to get. And yet they are pushed, and pushed and on weaker and weaker legs and they give everything they can.  They have great hearts. But remember they are prey. The instinct racing cashes in on is fear, and love. Horses love to run and they do it for fun, and yet fun and fear can be intertwined. Humans know that, think of bungey jumping. Would a horse run as fast without the use of whips and spurs? probably not. What would races be like if these implements were outlawed? Slower, but no less interesting.  There would be no loss of revenue at the tracks, betting would continue, horses would be bought and sold, trainers and jockeys paid. Breeding and training would have to have a different set of values............but it could be done. 

May you be peaceful, Eight Belles, nibble the pasture of the Heavens and run only when you want. 

Buns and Roses

I am so easily distracted in the Spring. I have this week off from teaching, all the students are on service/learning trips.  I had started off the morning thinking I'd better do a little house cleaning, then on the way to the laundry, which is out back in the garage, I was confronted, again, by the visage of the pink rose bush. It has been there for decades, when I moved in about four years ago I started pruning it. It decidedly liked pruning and showed it by putting out more and more flowers. Last year it came up with some sort of blight which I obsessively removed and this year is looking pretty good, except that all the wind we have had has  blown out the blooms and there are already hips to be clipped. As it seemed really a better sort of day to be outside rather than in, I,  like the Mole in Wind in the Willows, cursed cleaning and came to the aid of the rose bush. Naturally, my thoughts drifted to all things roses; the part in Alice in Wonderland where the roses are being painted; rose jam; rose water; the rose petal strewn by flower girls at my nieces's wedding this last weekend; rose hips, should I be harvesting these hips?;  Tyler and Sydney (the rabbits) love to eat roses, but when offered a rose from another source are not interested, not at all; rose buds are an herb in the Chinese Materia Medica, Mei Gui Hua, and are used for female issues like irregular menstration and PMS, or just grumpiness and flank pain for any gender. I remembered the herbs teacher from school, Dr. Liao, saying he wanted a truckload of this herb for his wife. This may have been just a teaching story, or his wife may have been irritable. We all just laughed because we loved him and now remember about Mei Gua Hua forever. Being visually skewed, I wondered what would happen if I scanned some of the roses I was clipping off (my son had the camera in China). So I stopped work to try that idea out, I didn't want the background to be just white from the inside of the scanner, so I covered the roses with some character practice paper that the rabbits had gotten at and chewed up a bit. Boyfriend conjectured they were trying to learn Chinese using the ingestion method. I did finish the pruning, actually finished something, and even got the trimmings into the green recycling can. Continued to have ideas that amused me and so fed some the roses to the rabbits, since they had eaten some of the background paper of my digital composition, they might as well have the roses, besides they do love them. This event I recorded using the iPhotobooth feature, you will remember the camera is not in this country. The rabbits are Tyler and Sydney, they are brother and sister English Spots. I adopted them from Rabbit Haven, a rabbit rescue organization.  This first picture is Tyler wondering if he can consume the pile of petals before Sydney, top right, realizes what is going on.  The next picture is Sydney, getting her due, no rabbit left behind. If you want to treat your rabbit to rose petals be sure they come from an unsprayed rose. Some lagomorphs enjoy the leaves as well, be sure these are tender and presented without the thorns. Eating a lot of roses in the smaller rabbits can color the urine, be aware of that, it is only temporary, like when we eat a quantity of beets. A rose is a rose is a rose. A rose by any other name. Sometimes a rose is just a rose, or is that a cigar?

Our Day In Court

Today in Santa Cruz, CA the court Judge, Paul Burdick by name, ruled to stop the state of CA from aerial spraying our city and county in an attempt to eradicate the Light Brown Apple Moth. Boyfriend and I attended to hearing, it seemed like our civic duty to show up and help fill the courtroom and it was full. The CDFA (California Department of Food and Agriculture) seem to think that the LBAM constitutes an emergency, a threat that could destroy crops and native plants alike. However for the 15 months that LBAM has been carefully monitored it would seem this is simply not true.  Most of their doomsday facts come from extrapolating a single bad year in Australia, whose climate is not similar to the California Central Coast. From a personal point of view even though we supposedly live in the thick of the infestation none of our garden crops have shown any damage, cosmetic or otherwise. Although we have seen the Oak Moth, there has been no moth I could absolutely ID as LBAM. They did spray us in the fall. The planes thundered back and forth for three or so hours early in the night. More than one friend got caught inadvertently in the spray. Although we were assured the spray would be odorless, it was not and I could smell it all morning. I had a sore throat that lasted a couple days. Other people got quite ill, and some were hospitalized. The spray they are used and want to continue to employ is called Checkmate, it is a synthetic pheromone specific for the LBAM and works by confusing the male moth sufficiently that it does not mate. A big part of the problem is the toxicity of the inert ingredients as well as the plastic micro-capsule delivery system. The micro-capsule is tiny enough to enter the bloodstream through the lungs and stick around in the system for awhile, causing we are not sure what.  It has been noticed, informally,  in health care circles that were more cases of lung ailments this winter and more pneumonia, especially in the elderly. It was terribly exciting to be present when the judge ruled against the spray and to clap and to feel triumphant. We rushed home to call our friends who own Deep Roots Ranch in the south of the county, they were stressing about  pasture and animals and John enjoyed giving glad tidings. Both us made the TV news as we came out of the courtroom, big media break. Governor Arnie, as in Schwarzenegger, as in the Terminator, has stayed the spraying for the whole state because of today's ruling, which is good, but the CDFA honcho, A.G. Kawamura is vowing to get the spray back on track ASAP. A victory, possibly not permanent, but a victory. 

Happy Year of the Rat, Slightly Late

  For the past four years I have drawn/painted and then had cards printed for the Chinese Lunar New Year. For the first two years I had my personal business information printed in the back along with with a cleaver little message.    

 Last year at the urging of a colleague, the back was blank/generic so that other practitioners could buy them and add their own message. I managed to sell enough to pay for the press run. Curiously, the individual who so urged me to print blank backs didn't buy any. 

The amount of time I put into promoting the cards

seemed enormous compared to my sales, particularly since the two acupuncturists who bought them were colleagues whom I see regularly.

This year I didn't get Ratty completed until well after the New Year, this tardiness is another blog entry, not yet written. Also this year I seem to have lost my urge to self promote or even sell my cards.

 I have been assured that advertising and self-promotion is a good thing and will build business, firming up my patient base and creating community outreach. An informal poll has revealed that although a good number of recipients keep their card all year long in a prominent location, it doesn't seem to get them to make an appointment with me. This year I  am trying something different. My current patients will receive Ratty in the mail with a stamped collage on the back and good wishes from me. The rest I will simply give away leaving small stacks in the vestibule of my office suite, at the Martial Arts Academy, the corner health food store, etc... Ratty is a fully functional postcard that can be sent at a moments notice with the proper postage baring a message or can stay home and be displayed on a refrigerator. There is only an 8 pt. illustration credit with my Email on the back. All in all Ratty is non-promotional item. There is nothing I hope to gain, no goal in mind; this is an experiment in willful anti-advertising. 

 

The Milk of Running Beasts

Raw milk is a hot button topic here in California. The CDFA is doing it's best to shut down the raw milk dairies and consumers are doing their best to have access to a healthy food in the original form. More can be said about how pasteurized milk was developed because some people in NYC got sick from drinking milk with bad bacteria in it. Milk that was produced by cows who were not being fed their normal diet. Likewise one can go one about the good bacteria in raw milk and about how pasteurization  denatures the protein in the milk and really that's what causes people to have allergies to milk. Many people who have a dairy intolerance can drink raw milk. I guess it's really a pasteurization intolerance. And, of course you can read about the attributes of grass fed milk until you go crazy with desire for the stuff.

 As an acupuncturist many people assume I am anti-dairy because they had an acupuncturist who  proclaimed that "You shouldn't drink milk unless you are a baby cow." This attitude about dairy is actually not health oriented but political. Up until the time that the Mongols took over the rule of China there was plenty  of dairy being consumed from cheese to fresh milks of different sorts. The "Barbarians" of the new government were very, very dairy oriented and as an anti-Mongol move conquered  people, the Hans, stopped consuming dairy. In a classic Taoist text, "Ten Questions", which is over two thousand years old, it is advised that one drink "the milk of running beasts" to fend off old age, restore health and glow with vitality. Whether grass fed cows ambling though a sun splashed pasture are the running beasts of the Daoists is up to interpretation. On examining the Chinese character for beast one finds it relates to claws, tail, head, and even dragon. The character for run relates not only to that action but to escape and "strategic pass". It would be just like the Taoists to proscribe the milk of a cleverly escaping dragon. Worthy of note is that the Chinese dragon traditionally has the ears of a cow and, of all the animals that make up a dragon, is the most likely to be milked. Certainly in this day and age grass fed raw milk is as close to the milk of running beasts as most of us are going to get! 

Dusty tomes and mythology aside here are some addresses (I can't seem to do links, yet, hey I got the photo in!).

www.farmtoconsumer.org

www.westonaprice.org

www.claravaledairy.org

www.ninaplanck.com

Ruminations on Fermentation

Cows have a pretty good system going. They get maximum nutritive mileage by passing grass through massive fermentation vats as part of their digestive tract. Humans ferment too, but our fermentation vessels aren’t built-in. ‘Round the world for centuries humans have been fermenting food with cultures of the lactobacillus bacteria.

There are different types of Lactobacillus, as a group they produce lactic acid as the major end product of the fermentation of carbohydrates. They require an anaerobic environment with a little water. Most of the family is homofermentive, that is they produce only Lactic Acid; some are heterofermentive producing, in addition, acetic acid (vinegar), ethanol and carbon dioxide (the fizz). Lactic acid inactivates all putrefying bacteria thereby preserving the food in question. Once in the body the other possible products of fermentation, alcohol and acetic acid must be decomposed and eliminated, but lactic acid can for the most part be used. Consumed lactic acid normalizes the acidity of the stomach; if it is too low, lactic acid boosts it, too high it brings it down. Lactic acid helps break down proteins and activates pancreatic enzymatic secretions for optimal digestion. Because we cannot consume lactic acid without its maker, Lactobacillus has a role to play in the health of the host organism (that would be you). Lactobacillus is able to survive all the way to the intestines, Small and Large; it effectively cleans the intestine by improving intestinal cultural ecology. This is a way of saying it inhibits undesirable bacteria by competing for receptor sites in the mucosal cell surfaces. These undesirables include shigella, salmonella and E coli. It has been demonstrated that LactoB does not multiply intestinally; therefore it is necessary to constantly replenish the colonies with live inhabitants. Eat your ferments.

In the transformative process of fermentation, described by some as alchemy. LactoB teases the best out of all its raw materials. Toxins such as nitrites and oxalic acid are neutralized, as are phytates which interfere with mineral absorption. Cellular structure is broken down making nutrients accessible. Vitamin levels are increased and new nutrients are added. These depend on the materials provided and include B vitamins including folic acid, riboflavin, niacin, thiamin, choline and biotin. In sauerkraut C is boosted to the point that it could keep sailors on long sea voyages from getting the scourge of the seas; Scurvy. Captain Cook took 60 barrels of sauerkraut on his second voyage around the world. There was not one case of scurvy, which had previously decimated crews on long voyages. After 27 months at sea and 15 days from home, Cook opened his last barrel to share with some Portuguese noblemen. Perfectly preserved the ferment so impressed that the noblemen took it away with them. In many parts of the world fermentation is used not only as a food preservation method but also as a way of salvaging waste foods. In Nepal 2,000 tons of high mineral Gundrun is produced for the off-season. Gundrun is made from mustard, radish, and cauliflower leaves, fermented in earthenware pots for 5-7 days then dried in the sun. A more extreme example of salvage; fermented bone balls of Sudan which are ground, fermented, shaped and dried in the sun for a shelf life of two months. In both these cases the live bacteria are sacrificed, but it is the ferment that makes possible the storage, digestion, and nutrient availability of what would otherwise be useless. Sounds like turning lead to gold.

Fermentation provides food preservation for the leaner times of the year and gives the digestion a boost; fermentation supports survival and health, both essential to the evolution of a species. And, I wonder, would human civilization have been able to feed the settled social groups required for civilization and human culture without our tiny partners?

Don't Read While You Eat: Part XVIII

After helping Xing Ren to the alcove off the kitchen where the children had slept and covering him with silk filled quilts, Ma Huang exited the kitchen and stood in the adjacent courtyard. It was late in the afternoon and dusk would come soon and quickly. Running swiftly in the direction of the Master’s quarters, she projected her Qi towards her goal; a crystal bowl that resided in the storage closet behind the altar. On a regular day at this time it was unlikely the Master would be in his sacred room, however, ”regular” seemed not to be a word that could be applied to current events. Pausing at the gate to the courtyard Ma Huang tried to ascertain if the Master was in his altar room, she could feel nothing; her inner sight seemed blinded. Jangled to bone she rushed forward. Could she see nothing because she was too fragmented? Or was there another reason? Just outside the heavy dragon door she quieted her breath, then pushed the door wide enough to permit her eye to peer in. The room seemed empty, opening the door a little more to permit her head she looked around. The Master was not there, the only movement, other than the beating of her heart and coursing blood, was the dust in the slant of the late sun. She glided across the carpet and in a blink had secured the crystal bowl, as she closed the door inside the room a wall hanging stirred, ever so slightly.

Clutching the bowl in both hands Ma Huang ran fast as fast through the compound. Courtyards flashed by her, windows, doors; monks barely noticed her, so swiftly she ran. The bowl was reassuringly real between her hands. Approximately the size of a human head it had been fashioned during the age of magic from a giant crystal which, it was rumored, had belonged to the Dragon Lord from Beneath the Sea. Ma Huang could not see that as she ran the bowl shimmered with greens and golds and left a small trail of purple clouds, which condensed, into silver dew. Out the gate and into the forest, running, running, that was all she had to do, she told herself; there was only running. Dodging through the trees she found the trail. An animal trail, it wiggled and twitched and ended where all the beasts wanted their search to end, at the spring. The water in this spring on this mountain bubbled up from deep within the earth; it filtered up through rock and crust to triumphantly burst forth in the midst of the quickly darkening forest.

Ma Huang settled herself by the spring to catch her breath and center her Qi. The sun had rolled over the horizon, this was Ma Huang’s favorite time of the day, though it wasn’t really day and it wasn’t really night. It was that irresistible moment of transition, of possibility. In the fading light, the colors of the forest seemed to greedily drink in what particles of light remained, sucking it from beyond the horizon until for a few brief moments they were giddily saturated; satiated with the Yang of the day. Qi restored, spirits raised by dusk and the delicious promise of night, Ma Huang dipped and rinsed the crystal bowl 9 times before filling it and setting back down the path to the Monastery.

The journey back to the kitchen was less rushed, but no less purposeful. Xing Ren lay in the alcove, sleeping heavily with a barely audible snore, as Ma Huang returned and lit three candles on the table. In the flickering light she squatted down on the dirt floor next to the place the children had last been on the Earthly plane. Holding the bowl between her hands she spoke into the water. She spoke everything she could remember about the children and when she got tired of talking she sang and when she got tired of singing, she whispered. She told of her first sight of them, of the sound of their footsteps following her back to the kitchen, of the soup they ate. She sang of the way Second Sister would play with her hair and look out the window when she thought no one was watching her. She sang of the time Little Fish had almost cut his finger chopping beets. Even as her voice grew tired she whispered of the space between the corner of Second Sister’s eye and her nose, her eyebrows, Little Fish’s slightly crooked left little finger. And when her voice needed to rest she hummed. Her back felt warm, she turned and saw Xing Ren had arisen and was standing behind her. He squatted and took the bowl, from his lips fell the story of his meeting with the Huangs and his first sight of Little Fish and Second Sister and all events that transpired. He told the bowl of the small rip in Little Fish’s tunic and the way Second Sister like to laugh before she sipped her tea. He talked and sang and whispered all he knew, all he remembered. When all was silent and the bowl was full, Ma Huang took the bowl from him and placed it in the place where they had last been.

Don't Read While You Eat: Part XVII

Enboldened by the divination Ma Huang went straight to work in her kitchen, she couldn’t wait for Xing Ren to think of anything, much less decide on the best next step. Her first step was to get Xing Ren back into a stronger state, he seemed already exhausted; faculties depleted. Beef bones had been simmering on the back of her stove for three days, it hadn’t been easy to keep the fire going without Little Fish and Second Sister to watch it for her, but she had managed. With a large ladle Ma Huang dipped out a bowl full of broth, put in three dried mushrooms and leaving the bowl on the warm top of the stove she went outside to her small herb garden. “which ones, which ones” she muttered to herself, touching the leaves of the plants gently. Returning shortly to the kitchen she gently pressed the leaves she had chosen until their juices just began to ooze, then she swiftly chopped the herbs and put them in the bowl. From the cool corner of the kitchen she retrieved a spoonful of Miso, this she mixed thoroughly with a small amount of broth in a small bowl and added it to the larger bowl with the mushrooms and herbs, stirring it in using a figure eight shape. Finally from a small and ancient box she took a tiny piece of seaweed, this she powdered and sprinkled on the top of the soup. Ma Huang waited until the Miso had formed a cloud in the middle of the bowl then she brought it to Xing Ren where he sat slumped, head in hands. Placing the bowl in front of him with a spoon Ma Huang sat across from Xing Ren, saying nothing, because she didn’t want him to use his Qi in answering her; she gently wafted the scent in his direction with a great round lotus leaf.

As the first odor of soup penetrated his brain Xing Ren began to breathe more deeply, drawing air and odor deeper into his lungs. After several deep breaths he silently reached for the spoon and with slow deliberation fed himself, his blood, his Qi and his spirit.

When he finally raised his head to look at Ma Huang the sparkle had returned to his eyes and the warmth to his cheeks. “You need to tell me how it works” she told him.
“How what works?” he asked, although he knew perfectly well what she meant.
Ma Huang looked at him and waited.
“It starts with a chrystaline energy pattern that is specific to the person who wants to travel between the parts of the world that we see. That pattern is set up in a number of ways, I set of mine through intensive Ba Gua practice, Tibetans prefer a sitting meditation. Though that has it’s draw backs.”
“How is that? They seem to do quite well, I often see them flickering in and out from mountain top to mountain top. It looks like a miracle, like magic” Ma Huang poured tea as she spoke.
Xing Ren laughed “Everyone is so impressed by that, if they did it right and had a really good flexible pattern you wouldn’t see them at all! It’s real magic when you don’t see anything, that’s the miracle when there is nothing.”
“But then how would you know the difference between nothing happening and a miracle? If it all seems like nothing?”
“I digress” he sipped tea “My pattern, after years of practice, is pretty strong, that’s why I could take the children in with me when they were attacked by the bandits.”
Ma Huang nodded, although she had the ability to sense shifting Qi flows on the mountain and track individual Qi trails, she had never been initiated into the practice of Ba Gua or the spaces and places between and behind. She had been taught the consequences of taking a person unprepared into that place, just in case.
“How does it work, why did they get disappear back inside inbetween?”
“When they were in there with me their personal Qi got caught in the vibration of the pattern. If I had pulled them out sooner it would might have been extremely hard for their young bodies to recover and they may have been damaged irreparably. As it was the traces of their Qi patterns caught them and pulled them back, like droplets of water barely touching then moving into one bigger drop.”
“How can you pop in and out and stay for as long as you like?”
“It’s my Qi pattern, I’ve worked on it for decades. It is supple and serviceable, I can make it go anywhere.” Xing Ren suppressed a glow of pride, “I had very good teachers.”
Suddenly he drooped, so tired, more worn then ever. “I’ll just rest a bit” he explained, putting his head on crossed arms. There was more Ma Huang had to find out. She made soup again.
“Why can’t you just go in and get them back?” she asked a revived Xing Ren.
“they’ve been in there long enough that the Qi pattern in no longer enough mine.”
“Then why can’t they just come out?”
Xing Ren rubbed his forehead, not sure which of the unfortunate consequences he should tell her. He sighed.
“Because there is enough of my Qi pattern that they can’t manipulate it.”
Ma Huang saw something in his face that truly alarmed her “What are you not telling me? What else is there?”
“Well, you see this whole situation it is somewhat unprecedented, but from what I can tell they are dieing in there. They cannot properly manipulate the patterns and the patterns are not enough like them to provide a sustainable Qi source. And…”
He trailed off unwilling to tell more, Ma Huang just waited. “And having them in my Qi pattern is draining on my life force. It may well be we will both die, or if they die I have might have some small a chance of recovering.”
Ma Huang knew exactly what she had to do.

Don't Read While You Eat: Part XVI

“Master, the children have disappeared into there.” The words tumbled out of Xing Ren.
“Ah, yes” replied the Master in his very best knowing tone, both disciples relaxed for it seemed that the Master knew the entire situation.
“What is the best way to rescue them?”
“And why should they be rescued?”
This turn was exactly what Xing Ren had feared.
“It is a incident, an action, a shift. Is it for us to undo it? Or is inaction the correct action?” The Master raised his eyebrow a hair for emphasis.
“Surely they are not supposed to die. What purpose could that serve?”
Xing Ren stared at the Master and the Master stared back, eyes locked. Xing Ren was sure that the Master could rescue the children as easily as a mother stooping to pick up a fallen toddler.
“It is not my decision, there could be something at stake we cannot fathom, let the sticks tell.” The Master rose and from his alter gathered his yarrow sticks.
Settling down again on the platform he arranged his robes, smoothing their folds and straightening their qi. Sitting very still he held his sticks, encompassed almost completely in his hands. He sat so still he seemed not to be breathing; rather the air was moving his lungs for him. Ma Huang and Xing Ren, too, sat as still as still. Suddenly, for in that stillness any movement would seem sudden, the Master threw the yarrow into the air. The sticks seemed to float above his head in a slow, churning cloud. Ma Huang tried to think how she felt, but she realized there was no she, no Ma Huang the person the individual. How the sticks fell didn’t matter. What happened to the children didn’t matter. Whether they came back or not, it was all the same. And then the sticks fell in perfect solid and moving lines in front the Master. Unconsciously both disciples grasped. The Master was inwardly pleased, exquisite stick control was his most flamboyant qi trick. In the days of the Old Master it was considered little better than a party trick, but these days it never failed to impress. He had often tried to control the trigram the sticks indicated, but could only manage good order. This, he felt, was an expression of his mediocrity.
Xing Ren and Ma Huang rocked forward on their knees to see the pattern, “ah yes” intoned the Master “ah yes.”
Ma Huang and Xing Ren saw instantly that the trigram was the number one, by name Qian, Initiating, with moving lines that transformed it into number forty seven, by name Kun, Exhausting. On a cursorily reading it seemed to be saying that they should go ahead and do whatever it took to rescue the children as Qian was an auspicious trigram that portended good results to any undertaking. Kun seemed to indicate that they would be a bit tired when it was all over, but wouldn’t it be worth it?
The Master clasped his hands inside the sleeves of his robes, he had cleared his mind for the toss, but here again for the interpretation he had to put his personal concerns aside. He sent them away in swirl of incense from the burner behind him. Ma Huang noticed that the incense, curiously, moved faster and wondered how that could be. His mind had been squirming, almost painfully, then turned into smoke, formlessly moving through the atmosphere, and then he had it.
“As you can see we have two trigrams, the first Qian is for me. Although auspicious, on examination of the moving lines I see that, in fact, it is not the time for me to do anything. I will surely regret my actions, there is a dragon lying low. The second trigram Kun, that one is for Xing Ren. The situation is exhausting and difficult, only the most steadfast and upright can succeed. If you have any doubts you will only make matters worse.” The Master paused and looked intensely at Xing Ren. “I think we cannot proceed with action, if the children find their way out that is all well and good, but………” and he dismissed his disciples with the wave of a hand.
Walking back to the kitchen the two were silent. Ma Huang too thoroughly bothered to speak and Xing Ren so down cast he could not move his mouth. Back in the kitchen Ma Huang made tea, as she poured Xing Ren’s cup the name “Old Auntie Wu” slipped from her lips.
“Who?”
“Auntie Wu, Old Auntie Wu.” Still unable to speak much Xing Ren regarded her with questioning concern.
“Old Auntie Wu used to come to our house at the height of Summer and help us get rid of any accumulated Yang that might cause illness during the winter. She had this funny way of interpreting the I Ching, she called it “bridging the river”, and it gives you three trigrams if the first one has moving lines. So why couldn’t I have a trigram too? I was in the room, I’ve spent a lot of time with the children, my qi is just as involved as anyone else’s.”
Xing Ren nodded trying to be encouraging, but he felt that Ma Huang was taking being left out of the divination too seriously.
“If we apply “bridging the river” to the first trigram we take lines three though five and put them on top and lines four through two and put them on the bottom.” As she spoke Ma Huang drew on the table with a finger dripped in tea.
“And we get this.” She finished with a flourish. There on the table was Qian, clean and crisp with no moving lines, the most auspicious trigram of the I Ching.
Xing Ren stared at the table thinking 10,000 thoughts. The trigram had dried without trace before he opened his mouth to speak.

Don't Read While You Eat: Part XV

The Master was sitting crossed legged on a low platform. Massive in heavy silk robes, his hair in a topknot, Ma Huang thought he looked like a pagoda. Xing Ren knew his size belied a true physical prowess, subtle and powerful. Beneath the great robes was a body that could, at will, move any square inch of skin as a horse shivers off a fly; Xing Ren had witnessed him move across the practice courtyard as easily as a dog shakes himself and as fast as an arrow leaves a bowstring. His hands long, curved and plump seemed only suited for teasing fish out of a stream, but could likewise break a man’s leg. Although his face had softened with time and care and a white streak ascended into his topknot from his left temple, even in his advanced years the man carried the look of ageless middle age.

The Master greeted the two disciples with a nod and a questioning “Yes?”
Xing Ren appeared flustered, the Master was unsure why. Usually the Master felt flustered in the presence of Xing Ren for here was the only man left who had a memory of the Old Master, though Xing Ren had been a very young man at the time of the transition.

The Old Master had come from the Age of Miracles, when monks flickered from mountain top to mountain top; when dragons were called down from the sky and up from the sea; when men and immortals mixed. The Old Master had been one of those dazzling men who could perform miracles, not just the odd parlor trick here and there, but actual miracles. The more powerful he grew, the more he mixed with dragons, immortals and fairies, and the less present he was on earth. The monastery fell into disrepair and the students forgot, and then were never taught. People would come from many li to camp outside the monastery gates hoping to see the Old Master emerge, preferably attended by a hundred diaphanous fairies.

One day the Old Master called upon a dragon that swooped down into the crowd and gathered up a beautiful young woman. The crowd became so excited they chased after the dragon and his captive, tracking him by the glittering trail he left in the sky, for many li. Trampling brush, fences and farm land, they finally could go no further and collapsed, en masse, all dead. When told of the incident the Old Master replied they got what they wanted. It was this dragon incident that changed Fu Shou, charging him with a destiny he hadn’t suspected.

Fu Shou, for that was the Master’s name before everyone forgot it and simply referred to him as “Master”, was not a brilliant disciple, it took him several tries to get his lessons right, but once he had learned a thing he knew it like his own hand. And this served him well when the lessons had stopped and all the naturally talented adepts forgot most of what they were supposed to have learned. As the Old Master had become more and more absent, more and more concerned with magic and fairies and less and less with the education of the monks at the Monastery, Fu Shou had taken it upon himself to secretly give lessons to some of the youngest monks, one of whom was, predictably, Xing Ren. When the aforementioned dragon incident occurred Fu Shou decided the Old Master would have to be replaced, he had become too dangerous, and the best man for the job was Fu Shou himself.

Don't Read While You Eat: Part XIV

Ma Huang had just started sipping her tea when Xing Ren arrived in the kitchen, his forehead wrinkled in alarm. “They’re gone.”

Ma Huang breathed in the transporting green tea steam. Watched in the long light of the late afternoon, it swirled, dove, wrapped and unfolded; reminding her of the one time she had seen Xing Ren practice Ba Gua. Mustering up more calmness than she felt, trying to balance Xing Ren’s agitation, she spoke “We really oughtn’t to be surprised, after all we knew it was highly likely. We knew.”

“I know, I know” Xing Ren started pacing the kitchen, but he stopped as he came to the scuffle marks the children had left on the floor. Ma Huang watched him carefully, unsure what to expect. “I know, we knew. I had hoped it would turn out all right. I hoped so much that I believed hoping would help. I hoped so much I thought my heart would break. Nothing was this complicated on my mountain.”

Ma Huang filled and pushed a teacup across the table toward him, he turned, sat and cradled the cup in his hands. “And so” she said matter of factly “now that they are gone, what is the correct way to respond?”
“We should see the Master.”
“Surely he already knows.”
“An official report should be made.”
“And what if he says to leave them?”
Xing Ren seemed to be settling back into himself again and answered with more of his usual pedantic tone “We respond to that when it comes.”
“We?” questioned Ma Huang.
“You were fond of them too, I assumed you would want to get them back.”
“However, I don’t know if I’d be willing to jeopardize my position here in the Temple. You can always go back to your mountain. I have nowhere to go, nowhere I’d want to be.”

Xing Ren was silent, realizing that the effect the children had on him was uniquely powerful. He had been sure that they were very special children, what if, in fact, they weren’t special in themselves. What if only the effect they had on the crusty hermit was unique and powerful? In which case wasn’t it just Xing Ren himself who was special? And in the chaos of the great Dao were they really that different from each other?

Kicking aside his long robes, the hermit appeared to float over to the place were Little Fish and Second Sister had last touched the earth. He sniffed the air as Ma Huang had done, bent and put a pinch of the dust on his tongue then lay face down on the floor. Ma Huang had finished her tea twice when he erupted from the floor like a giant bat, robes swirling.

“Are you coming?” he asked lifting one eyebrow.
Ma Huang nodded, she wouldn’t miss this for the world and together they sped through the monastery. Xing Ren paused briefly before the heavy, wood, dragon doors of the Master’s chambers to knock and entered before an answer could come.

Fire Dog Barks

Having read a few predictions, here and there, and given it some private thought, now and then, I have assembled the following recommendations for the Year of the Fire Dog. Bearing in mind that the dog in question is not a Pekingese but a larger dog, a guard dog, in fact a Foo Dog the Guardian of the Temple; an empowered and powerful dog, likewise a dog that knows his job. This is a year to really get things done. As a Fire Dog, this dog carries the elemental qualities of Fire resulting in a warm and joyful dog. According to Five Element theory, Fire is the mother of Earth. Fire Dog wants to protect and nurture Earth. This can refer to the environment from micro to macrocosm, from the bacteria inhabiting the lining of your large intestine to the entire planet. Due to the toxicity of our various environments cleaning and clearing is top priority. Let us clean each of our elements in turn. My suggestions all have to do with immediate surroundings and personal health, but if you feel moved to take a broader action I am sure the Fire Dog will help. By way of a disclaimer, this is neither a defining nor a final listing and the category entries are certainly debatable; e.i. Should Teflon go under Earth because it has to do with cooking food or under Metal because the pan is mostly metal?

Fire certainly has to do with heat and by extension electricity. Be sure your bedroom is free of electro-magnetic fields (EMFs); the usual suspects are clock radios by the head of the bed. If you don’t have a field meter or know someone with one and you are my patient you can borrow mine. Rearrange electronics so you are not sleeping in a field, and while you are at it make sure your bedroom is totally dark for best Melatonin production and optimum sleep. Get rid of electric blankets and heating pads (or don’t use them for more than an hour or so). Procure field neutralizers for cell phones and computers. Be prepared for emergencies, a good dog is ready for anything. This the year to have your earthquake kit together.

Earth is the next element. I have placed under this element a nutritional supplement check. Do your nutritional supplements contain any of the following: Magnesium Stearate (this is a toxic, hydrogenated oil used as a flowing agent), silicon dioxide (common sand used as a filler), natural flavors (could be MSG used to disguise “off” or bland flavors), methylcellulose, carnuba wax. There are others to watch out for, but these are the most common toxic tagalongs. Are your supplements tablets? Often tablets need glues or binders which can bioaccumulate and later create new symptoms, toxicity and absorption problems. To form a tablet the nutrients are often heated and then exposed to great pressure, both of these actions reduce the effectiveness of the nutrients. Gelatin caps are often hard to digest and can accumulate in the intestines causing digestive problems and often contain toxic preservatives. There is also the risk of “mad cow” prion exposure…….. Vegetable caps are your best choice in addition to herb teas and herbal extracts made with organic alcohol or glycerite. Get the best quality nutritional supplements. Eat organic foods. Check out the Weston-Price Foundation for traditional nutritional guidelines. Find out about good fats. Don’t cook in Teflon.

In terms of cleaning out your Metal element this may the year to get your amalgam (silver, but not really silver try mercury) fillings removed and replaced with a toxic biocompatible alternative. Follow up with an herbal heavy metal detox program. Underwire bras, yeah, get rid of them. I have read that they have been linked to breast cancer and benign lumps, and I thought it was a little over the top, honestly no pun intended. However I have seen in my practice cases of breast lumps, which were cured simply by giving up the underwire. The problem is two fold; firstly, that the lymphatic system is severely impeded by the pressure of the wire and secondly, the metal interferes with the normal flow of the Qi channels of the front of the body and the breasts. Is mammilary lift really worth it? Be sure your cooking equipment is aluminum free.

Water clearing should include having drinking water filter, a shower filter, and a bath ball to remove chlorine and contaminants. While you are in the bathroom you might as well examine your skin and hair care products for the following harmful, toxic chemicals; Propylene Glycol (petrochemical emulsifying base that makes the skin look smooth, but ultimately ages skin faster by denaturing the protein, can cause allergic and liver and kidney damage); Sodium Lauryl Sulfate or SLS (lots of problems with this ingredient, it is a mutagen and causes cataracts, hair and skin damage); Fragrance (careful usually is synthetic and can bioaccumulate causing a number of problems from dizziness to memory loss to hyper- pigmentation); Mineral Oil (petroleum based leads to poor, saggy skin etc..); Parabens, Propyl, Methyl, Butyl, or Ethyl (preservatives that are highly toxic, linked to allergic and skin reactions); Imidazolidinyl and Diazolidinyl Urea (preservatives which are an established cause of contact dermatitis and also release formaldehyde, a toxin); Synthetic Colors (can cause allergy, skin and nerve problems); Triethanolamine or TEA (causes allergic reactions including eye problems, dry hair and skin, and can be toxic if absorbed over time).

In the 5 Element system Wood is associated with wind and by association, for the purposes of this writing, air. What is the air quality like in your home, office, and car? Is there off gassing from building materials? Do you live near a busy street? What about mold? The airborne spores can cause a number of health issues. This may be the time to invest in a good air filter, be sure it doesn’t emit toxic ozone, do some consumer research. Also a member of the Wood element is the Liver, clinically the first organ to feel the impact from stress is the Liver, resulting in irritability, headaches, digestive complaints, insomnia and more! Are there some stresses in your life you can ease to please your Liver? So many things can cause stress from deadlines and schedules to unresolved emotional issues. What can you do to take the pressure off?

There is much talk about detoxifying in our toxic world and many ways to do it. This year unload some toxins, your body will thank you for it. Try saunas, Nettterumani, caster oil packs, mudpacks and baths, a fast.

Add some righteous Qi. Get seasonal acupuncture treatments and treatments when ill to avoid lingering pathogens. Renew and restore your environmental Qi, Feng Shui your home or at least your bedroom. Promote your Qi with Tai Chi. Fuel the inner Fire with moxa. Enhance the Earthly body with good supplements and plant an organic garden. Colonize Metal’s organ, the Large Intestine, with probiotic Kefir bacteria. Renew your Liver and take it for a walk in the Woods.

That seems like too much advice for now. One last thing remains in this Pandora’s box; Fire is the element of the heart and joy. Be joyful, laugh and alight your heart!

Talk Snippet

Recently I gave a small talk to a very small "audience" at a toddler center, a snippet of same follows. Rest assured that this was the most "technical" bit.................................................... The existence and understanding of Qi is essential and central to the understanding and practice of Oriental Medicine. The Chinese character for Qi incorporates the characters for vapor, steam or gas and for uncooked rice, indicating that Qi can be both rarified and material. It also indicates that Qi is a subtle substance derived from a coarse one, just as cooking rice produces steam. Translating the word Qi leads to many and varied definitions; energy, material force, matter, ether, matter energy, vital force, life force, vital power, moving power. The difficulty in translating the word lies in the changeable nature of Qi; Qi can assume different manifestations and be different things in different situations. Most modern physicists would agree that Qi can be thought of as expressing the continuum of matter and energy as is now understood by modern particle physics. Zhang Zai who lived and thought about things in the late 11th century China said, “ If Qi condenses, its visibility becomes effective and physical form appears”. I think this is very much the same as the physics definition. Some other current ways of labeling Qi range from EMFs to biophotons to the nervous system, these are all valid in a somewhat limited or rather specialized sense of Qi. In the Chinese sense Qi is everything and everything has it’s own special Qi;, each organ has special Qi and so do rabbits, monkeys, the Empire State Building and the moment of your conception. And it is all connected because it is Qi. There is a Qi for space, time, location and organism, and there is Qi for the mind and the spirit. Qi is material and immaterial. For the purposes of healing the physical body we are most interested in the invisible Qi, the Qi that has not yet become form because that is where is easiest to encourage a change and hence a shift in the physical. One of the best ways to understand the unseen is by its relationship to the seen; we can understand wind in its relationship to a tree and the motion it causes. Chinese Medicine says, “Qi is the leader of the Blood and Blood is the mother of the Qi” From this we understand that Qi is the animating element of the body; Yang to the Yin of the blood. On the continuum both are Qi, so we differentiate by calling the invisible driving Qi, Yang and the more material Qi, Yin. Organs function because Qi is animating them, each organ has it’s own special Qi with it’s particular and sometimes peculiar attributes. Through thousands of years of observation and experimentation Chinese Medicine has mapped out the Qi of the body into 12 main meridians with a total of 360 points on the meridians. Each point has a special use and some have many more. Qi is a shape shifter, a mover and a shaker. Remember that material is Qi condensed, a coagulation of Qi. Substances have special Qi. We know what kind by the effect they have on the body. For instance dried Orange peel or Chen Pi has been observed again and again to dry phlegm, this is due in part to its Qi, which is warm and dry. It is the effects of these different Qis that give herbs and food their power to shift the physical body. Children’s Qi is quite available on the surface of the skin, it is easily changed and changeable. Classic Chinese medical wisdom states “Xioa fu jiao ruo, qi yi chu dao” or “ Organs are fragile and soft, Qi easily leaves it’s path”. We have all seen how babies can get too hot or too cold and simply loose it, cry, get sick, sometimes becoming very ill. This is the Qi loosing its path. By the same token young children can pull out of a serious illness, almost as if by a miracle. This is because of the same very changeable nature of their Qi. The changeability, availability, the openness of children’s Qi is the gift and the issue in children’s health. On the energy-matter continuum adults are more matter than children. Our Qi is not as available, it is harder to move, and the patterns are more ingrained. And that’s good and not so good, we may not get an infectious disease as readily as a small child or fever for days, but we are more prone to chronic degenerative conditions.

Don't Read While You Eat: Part XIII

Hoping to be alone with Second Sister in order to talk about his ability to disappear at least a part of his body into another place/world/dimension, Little Fish ducked out of Martial Arts practice during some line work on sidekicks. When he arrived at the kitchen Ma Huang was so distracted by the correct presentation of the Dinner of Immortality that she barely acknowledged his presence and soon after left, balancing on one hand a huge tray filled with bowls and dishes. The children were left alone, completely to themselves. Little Fish checked out the window and Second Sister the door. All the same they huddled in the furthest corner by the rice bin and spoke in rapid whispers. “How did you do it?” Second Sister asked. “I’m not sure exactly, but I can get there every time I try.” “Do it now” she insisted. “I don’t know if we have time, I have a plan and I wanted to tell you about…..” “No,” she cut him off “show me again.” She half suspected it was a trick. “Alright, alright.” Little Fish stood, breathed deeply, settled into his legs and sent out a questing hand. Slowly, slowly it searched and then disappeared. “There you are,” he whispered triumphantly. “What happens if you put more of you in? What if you put you head in? What would you see?” “I tried to put my head in, but it wouldn’t go.” “Wouldn’t go?” “Wouldn’t go, I think it needs to go with my spine. I’ve gone up to my shoulder, but I didn’t want to go all the way in case I couldn’t get back.” Second Sister was very excited, “ This might be a way we could leave here and go home.” “Exactly.” “And with me here, I could hold you on this side and you could look around.” “Exactly.” “And maybe between the two of us we could figure out how to get in and out and move around.” “Exactly.” “You know Little Fish, you’re pretty smart for a little brother.” Little Fish grinned “Exactly.” Second Sister snorted, she’d set herself up for that one, however they had no time for proper quibbling. “Shut up and I’ll hold your other hand while you put in more of your body.” “Let’s see what…” Little Fish collected himself and slowly advanced, then a startled look washed across his face. “I’m being pulled in.” The siblings watched as more and more of the struggling Little Fish’s arm disappeared into thin air. “Pull me back,” he hissed. Second Sister grabbed his other arm and dug in her heels. When Ma Huang returned the kitchen was empty. She examined the scuffle marks on the dirt floor, sniffed the air, breathed a sigh of resignation and poured herself a cup of green tea.

Don't Read While You Eat: Part XII

Second Sister sat in the kitchen with Ma Huang, Second Sister had been unable to speak with Little Fish alone at length since she had seen his hand disappear and reappear. It had been three days now, they were very, very closely watched she realized. However a plan had been spawned between the siblings in quick whispers. There was a time every week when Ma Huang brought the Master the specially prepared Dinner of Immortality. Usually during this time Second Sister and Little Fish were in a Martial Arts practice session, but Second Sister had faked an ankle injury, so she sat in the kitchen chatting idly with the scar faced Ma Huang, waiting to see if Little Fish would show up. Whether it was nerves or anticipation of Little Fish’s conversation about the mysterious hand, Second Sister became bold, even insolent. “Tell me, how did you get the scar on your face?” Ma Huang kept smoothly chopping the vegetables to go in the bone broth. “Once upon a time I was a very beautiful girl.” Second Sister stared hard at her and looking past the scar she could see it, Ma Huang was still extraordinarily beautiful. “Many men hounded my father for my hand in marriage. Wanting to make the most advantageous match for family prestige and his pocket book, he allowed the process to extend for three years. During that time a wandering Taoist Monk came through our town. My brother became interested in his teachings ad he stayed at our house for the summer months when it was too hot to travel. He taught my brother and I many Taoist internal alchemical practices, and I felt I had found my path in life. I felt I had found my true home. Soon after Xing Ren, for it was he, left our house my father found the best possible match for me and insisted I marry the man. I thought him an oaf and he thought me a treasure to be kept wrapped in silk and displayed. Resolutely, one morning I stole my brother’s sword and cut my face. My betrothed retracted his offer and my father disowned me as mad. And I was free to practice internal alchemy and other Taoist arts.” Ma Huang spun around, kicked high over the soup cauldron and dropped a handful of vegetables into the savory broth.

Don't Read While You Eat: Part XI

It seemed that Second Sister and Little Fish could do anything they like. Sometimes they stayed in the kitchen with the green-eyed, scar-faced woman. Here they helped prepare the food for the hundreds of monks staying at the Temple. Often they joined in a Martial Arts practice. Little Fish learned several moves of Tai Chi Chuan, which he would practice for hours on end in one of the innumerable courtyard that punctuated the temple buildings. Second Sister took advantage of the scrolls in the Temple buildings, though she was only allowed in with Xing Ren and then only at certain times. Life seemed to have settled after a couple or three weeks. One day they were in the kitchen and Ma Huang, for that was the green-eyed woman’s name, had just stepped out to gather a few things from the kitchen garden. Little Fish glanced furtively around and whispered to Second Sister, “Have you noticed we are never alone?” And she realized this was true. “What so you think is going on?” she whispered to the beet she was cutting. “Come with me to practice in the North Courtyard just before dinner”. Second Sister had always found Little Fish’s obsession with the slow moving and, in her opinion, boring Tai Chi worthy of ignoring, but this time she nodded just as Ma Huang returned with an armful of greens. That afternoon the two children arrived at the North Courtyard and Little Fish showed Second Sister the opening moves of the Tai Chi set. A monk had certainly followed them albeit from afar. After an hour another monk took the first monk’s place. Second Sister wondered how she could have failed to notice the monkish tails…. The dinner bell rang and Little Fish made off to the dining hall, Second Sister following. The monk on their case passed them, satisfied of their destination. However Little Fish circled around and they returned to the courtyard, this time unobserved. “Watch, quickly we haven’t much time.” He settled himself, breathed and moved into a stance called Single Whip. Second Sister gasped as his foremost hand disappeared. “So” intoned Little Fish as he retrieved his hand from invisibility, “we have to go to dinner not or they’ll come looking.”

Don't Read While You Eat: Part X

Second Sister stared into her soup bowl then glanced at Little Fish, who was equally entranced by his bowl. ‘I wonder if it is safe to eat’ she thought to herself. Xing Ren and the woman joined the children with soups of their own. “It is good” Xing Ren intoned into his soup and lifted a spoonful to his lips. Little Fish and Second Sister lowered their spoons into their respective soups. Soup, which was a world unto itself, topped with five fresh, floating, flowers, the middle layer riddled with loosely waving seaweed and the bottom thick with primordial sludge. Second Sister knew from the smell that the stock of this soup had been slaved over, prayed over and pampered like a newborn horse. Her mother made the same such stock to keep her husband and children strong. Eating a flower Little Fish felt his head unfold, a surprise to him as he hadn’t been aware that it was folded. A strand of seaweed unclenched Second Sister’s solar plexus. A single tear made it’s way down Xing Ren’s nose as a spoonful of soup sludge filled his bones. Only soup sounds could be heard for many, many heartbeats. After soup Second Sister felt quite herself again and asked, “Can we go home now that Little Fish is cured?” Xing Ren rubbed his nose where the teardrop had traveled and looked sad. “Actually, no, you can’t.” “What! Why not?” Second Sister was alarmed and suspicious. Had they been kidnapped? The woman with the green eyes and the scar cleared the bowls and spoons as Xing Ren settled back in his chair and spoke. “For twenty years I lived in a little hut on an auspicious site on the side of a mountain. Two years ago a messenger arrived with a letter from my teacher, the Head Priest of this Monastery. The letter informed me that a divination using the I Ching, Astronomic and Astrological calculations and a series of portents seemingly sent from the gods had been made. At the heart of it was the forecast of much sickness in the Winter and Spring four years from the date of the letter. Surrounding the heart was war and unrest in a number of provinces. My teacher asked me to collect enough herbs to supply the Monastery in the time of need. He gave me a list of the symptoms, garnered from the dinvination, so that I might tailor the formula to the approaching evil wind; relentless fever, sore throat, cough, difficulty breathing, extreme fatigue, green phlegm and boils. These were the main symptoms. I did not want to leave my mountain, but loyalty to my teacher and the place I received my training was stronger than my personal desires. For two years I have traveled arranging the collection of enough herbs to serve the monastery and the surrounding countryside. Some of the herbs are to be delivered in a year, some will be picked up by myself or one of the monks.” “So why can’t we go home?” Second Sister interrupted. “If I let you go home your parents might not grow enough Jin Yin Hua, the amount I require is more than their usual harvest, they will have to put forth special effort.” Little Fish squirmed; he couldn’t let Second Sister do all the talking now that he was better. “Then, then…we are hostages?” Second Sister chimed in “And what about my family, are we to die when the evil wind comes because you have taken all the Jin Yin Hua?” Xing Ren laughed. “What? What? What?” demanded Second Sister. “I find it infinitely amusing to be found fiendishly horrible. But how could you know? I had not gotten far enough in my story. You see the Jin Yin Hua alone would not quell this evil wind, nor would the herbs in the countryside surrounding your farm. Only the formula I arranged from nine provinces over two years will quell it. I will have enough of all the herbs left at your farm to take care of your family and nearby inhabitants. You will stay here for one year, you might even like it. I wish I could send you home, but my first loyalty is with the welfare of the monastery.” Unappeased Second Sister asked “And do you get to go home to your mountain?” Xing Ren slowly shook his head “Alas, no, I must stay here and write, the people need something good to read in times of trouble.”