She Poured and Poured Until Only a Drop Was Left

What Qigong taught me about the energy I'd been giving away for decades.

Filling the vessel. My garden, this morning.

My ability to comprehend the invisible is expanding. I think I have reached a new level of awareness of what that means.

As a person of a certain age, whenever I visit my doctor, he’s far more concerned with what’s happening internally than what’s on the outside. (Hey, did you just say “duh”?)

This epiphany hit differently in February, when I was in a car accident. An MRI revealed that a cyst on my liver had burst, and that I had “other” stuff going on inside. Technology that allows a look at your invisible innards is quite the mind-fuck.

My organs were a silent mob.

When I was young, I could ignore what was happening inside my body, unless I got a pounding headache, severe menstrual cramps, or an upset stomach — in which case I demanded answers. What was happening to me?

I’ve heard anyone, including me, say words of gratitude for their heart, lungs, kidneys, liver, or spleen for the indispensable work they do. That is our way, isn’t it? Out of sight, out of mind.

Except the mind is also out of sight, so...

It wasn’t until I was lying on Tobi’s acupuncture table that I started to have a clue about Chinese medicine’s emphasis on the organs and how their condition contributes to disease and wellness.

I have been seeing Tobi for years — first for massage, then for acupuncture. She told me a story of her acupuncture professor and how she asked him where he placed the needles for treating himself.

“Nowhere” he said. “I just do Qigong.”

Say what?

What is Qigong?

It’s been a strange mystical journey since asking that question. I will spare you the months of research and rabbit holes and share my definition.

Qigong (pronounced Chee-gong) is a body movement practice that includes mobility exercises, breath work and meditation. Its goal is to bring focus on your internal energy — Qi — throughout the body and release any areas where it may have gotten stuck.

If you read anything about Qigong, the Qi is subject to a variety of definitions. I will tell you the one I landed on and am currently embracing: Qi is the functional energy responsible for your body, mind, and spirit.

Gong means work. Qigong is the work of managing your life force energy.

We are born with the energy of our parents, but it isn’t a lifetime supply, and we can’t make more of it. We can only protect it by building our own Qi through food, air, sleep, and the way we choose to live. And here is what I know about midlife women: we have not been living that way. We have been spending.

We have been recklessly generous in giving our energy away for decades. To our children, our partners, our jobs, our aging parents, our communities. Society taught us, the good girls, to pour out and keep pouring, without ever asking if we had anything left in the vessel.

I spent the better part of this year studying, practicing, and eventually getting certified as a Qigong teacher. Last Saturday morning, I stood in Tobi’s beautiful studio in Asbury Park — the same place where my healing began — and taught my first class.

I won’t pretend I wasn’t a little bit nervous. But the moment we began moving together, something settled. The room grew quiet in that way that only happens when people are actually present in their bodies. I looked around and thought: This is it.

If any of this is calling to you, I’d love to have you join me.

Starting this Sunday, June 7th, I’m teaching a weekly Qigong class online — every Sunday morning at 9:30am Eastern. Think of it as our Sunday church of replenishment — a weekly ritual for refilling the vessel.

If you’re new to practicing Qigong with me, your first class is free. Come and see if it speaks to you.

No special equipment. No special clothing. You don’t need anything you don’t already have.

If you’d like to join me for either, just reply to this email and I’ll send you all the details.

Come curious. Come as you are. Just come.