Weekly, Weakly

Has it been a full week since I arrived home? I've been in a daze, time-and space-lagged, slowly divesting myself of one of China's major exports (phlegm) and exiting from a job I've held for four-and-a-half years. I somewhat theatrically emailed a resignation notice from Beijing on Bob Dylan's 70th birthday, ceremonially played Maggie's Farm a few times on my iPod, treated myself to a Chinese "hurts so good" massage and cupping therapy, and ultimately came home to an open-ended situation. A new opportunity begins, auspiciously, on the Summer Solstice. Some folks assumed I was retiring, but it's not dark yet.

In the meantime, I am trying to process the events of the past month, with little photographic evidence, but some journal notes. I really didn't go anywhere I'd never been before, but even so, revisiting revealed new lessons and new teachers, the kind who present themselves when you are ready, doors that were always there mysteriously opened. And just like when you leave a job you didn't really much like, saying, "But I'll miss the people," so too, part of the pleasure of a pilgrimage is the fellow pilgrims and priests.

One morning in the mountains, where I usually awoke at dawn with birds who may also have been restless during the full moon period, I took my tea and journal to the rooftop of the hotel to watch the sun rise over the very landscape which is the banner of this blog. After some stretching and breathing in first light and fresh air, I seated myself along the railing to make some notes about the previous evening when the group had been entertained by a charming literati type who sang some Chinese opera and folk songs, spontaneously, when we were enjoying the full moon.

In the dawn, the same young master emerged on the roof from his own little apartment with his tea and began a morning qigong routine. His back was to me, so I watched for a few moments and then realized he was doing movements I was familiar with, so I quietly began to follow him. At some point, he turned to acknowledge me. "I know some of this, it's eight brocades," I said, hoping he did not object to my energy, and he told me, yes, but what he was doing was a mixture. And then proceeded to demonstrate. Then he offered to teach me the Five Animals exercise.

Before I left home, I had been enjoying a 2009 Chinese TV series, The Shadow of Empress Wu, in which the five animals is a plot point -- a clever and manipulative Taoist applies the ancient routine to cure the sickly young prince (though the Taoist's elixirs were not for the good of the dynasty). I had been interested in the exercises, and it seemed uncanny that the master brought them up. (And I just discovered there is an earlier series about the Empress which also features my muse Vincent Zhao as Tang general Li Zunxian in a fictional romantic role...well, why not?)

But back to the exercises. After tiger (no tiger mom) comes bear, oh my...when we did that one, young master said to me, "Now you are a happy bear," not knowing then that my Chinese name is Xiong Shan Di (which a Chinese friend at home says may be interpreted as Empress of Bear Mountain, something like a Baroness). Later he began to call me Madame Xiong. A happy Madame Xiong. (Xiong=bear, which is in fact, my family name.)

We continued over the next few days, early morning before breakfast, on the roof, to complete instruction in the five movements. It was an unplanned program, one of many spontaneous happenings off the itinerary and schedule, but linked to full moon and sunrise. To be practicing while the sun and moon were both in the sky, together hovering over the mountains, was magical.

And now after a week, I am 95 percent well, 5 percent weak ---the phlegm is almost gone. I hope my memories linger longer.

Always Another Side

The other half of this perfect arc of a rainbow can be found over on the Yin Side. I actually stopped my car on the freeway Sept. 1 to take this shot, it was such a nice positive thing to see first thing in the morning. Half-and-half pictures because I don't have a wide angle lens on my little Casio Exilim, which for nearly five years has been faithfully doing duty not only for the everyday snapshots like this, but also on travel to the U.S. Mainland and China, at weddings and funerals, the ordination of an RC Bishop and the destruction of a sand mandala by Buddhist monks, recording my teacher's Chinese painting demonstrations and my own feeble efforts. The pocket digital workhorse is looking kind of beat up, but after all this time I am pretty adept with its controls. Only 5.0 megapixels, it seems obsolete, but, like my 20-year-old car, it still goes the distance. It does the one job it was designed for: no phone calls, no internet access, no calendar, just photography.

I only hope to become so adept with my new car radio...will it take four years? After I shot the rainbow, I managed to tune to the local NPR outlet to hear some news, some things to think about.

I learned from someone who runs some kind of "senior" home health care service that 7 out of 10 deaths in the growing population of folks 60+ are ultimately due to falls. I haven't been aware of being in such a demographic since the last time I was thought to be a "senior," the 45th anniversary of which condition is coming up next month. I won't make the high school reunion on the East Coast, but I have been thinking much about those of us on the leading edge of the Big Boom. I was so excited then to be a "senior," ascending the side of the rainbow leading to a wide open future; how quickly we reach the zenith and slide down the other. This melancholy thinking does remind me that I must step up my qigong exercises, one movement of which is called "past the rainbow." Qigong does promote balance, which I can always use more of, and thus, prevent falls.

Next news item was about affordable housing in Kaneohe. The state has spent $60 million on affordable studios and 2-bedroom units to rent to qualifying (poor) folks for ~$365-$865 a month. For perspective, my condo maintenance fee (which seems to be financing deforestation in my "woodland" complex) is just in the middle of that range.

As I was contemplating this, the next item had to do with affordable hotels in Makena, a Maui resort neighborhood adjacent to the ultra-pricey Wailea. The Makena development will feature rooms in the "affordable" $200-250 range, a value, I guess, if you can't pay the $400 to $500 nightly costs in Wailea. Such contrasts. I do hope that the folks in the cheap studios in Kaneohe have better manners than some of the Wailea guests. I have a friend who works in a dress shop there who has on more than one occasion found urine in the trash cans in the fitting rooms. Which just suggests that money doesn't buy decency.

After these curious news reports, I turned the radio off (having learned how to do that) to drive in silence (not counting the Miata's purr), contemplating the sun rising from behind the mauka cloud banks. Later that night, I watched the same sun set off my lanai. It gave me a sense of balance.

Yang Rising

I wonder if it was so difficult adjusting after my Chinese dream-trip because I arrived back just after the full moon. I was feeling increasingly oppressed with the subsequent gathering yin energy exacerbating my jet lag, the anti-climax of a wonderful spiritual, physical and cultural adventure, and the return to office responsibilities complicated with processes and procedures, the world of MBO, which used to mean Management by Objective but has also come to mean Management by Outlook (Microsoft's ubiquitous email system.)  Wu wei and MBO don't really coexist well. Maybe it's another yin-yang thing.

But last night as I sat under the first quarter moon, a perfect balance of yin with yang about to rise, I began to feel some energy. This morning's reading, "Shrine," from Deng Ming-dao's 365 Tao was inspiring:

"It is good to have holy places in the world, and it is good for us to go on pilgrimages. Ultimately, it is not the place that is important; it is what you feel that is lasting.  To visit a place is minor; to change within yourself is greater.
    When people visit a holy place, some say that the spirits of that place speak to them. Others remember the exotic pageantry. When it comes to sacred sites, it's better to be a pilgrim than a tourist. Go with a humble attitude, and let your heart be moved by what you experience.  Then you will receive the true treasure of the shrine."

This was exactly the message I needed.  The true treasures of the shrines I visited are in my heart.  I just wasn't paying attention the past week or so.  A friend recently told me she overcame a moment of personal torment by sitting on the beach while reading her Bible. In Hawaii, that interface between vast ocean and solid rock is a holy place. You can feel the Tao in the waves as they crash and recede on the sand and lava. Whatever the place (beach or mountains), whatever the scripture, (commentaries on the Tao or Pauline letters), these moments can lift us and remind us that we can easily fix our troubled hearts.

Temple Courtyard Where We Practiced the 8 Brocades

Overcoming PHSD

The western commercial holiday frenzy is at last over. I have overcome PHSD (post holiday stress disorder).

Yesterday on the way to work, enjoying some clear bright sunshine after a period of intense vog and humidity, I greeted my little friend, one of several neighborhood kolea ( Pacific Golden plovers).

Every morning it's as if she's waiting for me.  I just wish she wouldn't stand in the middle of the street. She should be picking through the grass for bugs.  Still, I stopped the car and took a few shots out the window; she was very close, so I could observe her feathers, the marking, the stance. I'm trying to paint this bird, Chinese style, but it's hard.

But I shouldn't worry, her wings are very strong. I think of them when I'm doing qigong; they take her to and from Alaska every year, so she probably has the sense and ability to avoid traffic, dogs and cats.

So after the roller coaster that builds and descends from Labor Day to Epiphany, I come to a pleasant halt, a breather period from now to Chinese New Year (Feb. 14), the Year of the White Metal Tiger.  Lao Hu, our household tiger and kitty wing chun expert, (who might like nothing better than to take down a kolea) has settled into his Yellow Imperial position on the new Laz-y-Boy recliner, possibly attracted by the Ed Hardy "Tiger" beach towel employed to keep the Wizard from sweating profusely on the leather.

This year, CNY not only coincides with Valentine's Day, but is just before Orthodox Lent, a period I enjoy exploiting for fasting, meditation and spiritual clarification. Fitness and weight loss too. Having dispensed with the solar/yang observances, now I can honor yin.  (I need to get myself in shape for a planned trip to China in May.)  In a moment of remarkable clarity, several of us in my office have started a qigong practice group.  It's part of a month-long company-sponsored healthy living thing for the new (Gregorian) year, (we call ourselves the Incorrigible Curmudgeons, not of the demographic or sensibility that goes for weightlifting, intense mechanical workouts, competitive ball sports or running) and I think we will be continuing this indefinitely.  My wrist arthritis discomfort already has improved from the practice. The most interesting thing is how many people not on our "team" have been attracted to the practice.  Qi is flowing through the office!