Walker

Last I tried, I can nearly accomplish this, and I don't practice specifically towards it. The ability seems to come naturally when one emphasizes keeping the chest turned into the center of the circle. There's a good chance I'll meet the fellow I mentioned again. I'd might even study with him, but last I saw him, when he observed that I'm a vegetarian, he declared, "no disciple of mine has ever been a vegetarian!" I retorted, "yeah, but I'm not your disciple." Luckily, everybody was in good spirits (both figuratively and literally--and as an aside my diminished interest in boozing also keeps me from doing too much "networking" in the martial arts world where lunchtime banquets will have you so drunk so early in the day that your hangover starts at 6pm instead of 6 the next morning) and China is far less traditional than it used to be, or I'd be persona non grata with the quickness for talking back to an elder. Anyway, when he and I cross paths again and if he permits, then I'll take a photo or video and post it here.

I think this is perhaps a better choice for general discussion, as China is home to many, many, many forms of qigong that are not Daoist at all. Teachers in some lineages (Zhineng Gong comes to mind) even disagree heavily with numerous Daoist teachings. At any rate, you might consider looking into 回春功 that is taught at the Shanghai Qigong Research Institute (上海气功研究所). It is in fact a Daoist-derived form of qigong, tracing its roots back to Huashan or another holy mountain, I forget which exactly. To give an example of its efficacy, I once met a Huichun Gong teacher in Shanghai and immediately doubted the efficacy of the method, thinking that he looked like a pretty unhealthy 50-year-old. Joke was on me, as I soon found out the man was well into his eighties, and his teacher, not only older but still active and younger looking! I briefly practiced a bit of Huichun Gong at one point and found it very enjoyable, but I simply did not have the time to pursue it in addition to all of my other practices. I know of other teachers, but the Huichun Gong taught at Shanghai Qigong Research Institute represents the only setting I know of where you might find some English-language teaching, teachers with long years of experience, and regular classes. One thing to note: Hui Chungong does not teach qigong medicine, ie using your qigong to heal other people.

Useful. Thank you

Exactly. And therefore “语端辞,” just like "发语辞," go at the beginning of the sentence, not at either end, as you originally argued. In striving to prove me wrong you seem to have forgotten what your original points even are. Please, leave the hair-splitting alone. Stop. It is over.

Haha, are you kidding? Let's keep this on topic. A 端语辞 is a 发语词, it goes at the beginning of a sentence, in order to 发端. No need to grasp at straws here, homie.

I agree with ChiDragon. I really can't think of a good way to translate 夫 in this sentence. There is a chance you are right, or that sometimes 语端辞 refers to what you speak of, but I am afraid I do not buy your argument. First of all, you are contradicted by the 《古汉语知识辞典》: Secondly, I spend a lot of time with the Kangxi Dictionary. Following the Kangxi's own patterns of logic, with the entry on 夫 I would say that it does not appear that the authors agree with your definition. I provided a link above to the full Kangxi definition which you may wish to peruse. Since we are on the topic, if you can provide a quotation or direct me to a written source that supports your contention, I would be most happy to go and take a look, and even to humbly stand corrected. Walker... May I ask what are you trying to prove here....??? Kangxi lists the various sources. I am not trying to prove anything, but it is worth it students to know that this usage of 夫 shows up in numerous important dictionaries stemming from antiquity, whereas other usages may be more obscure and show up only in specific classics, but not dictionaries. If I appear to have great knowledge of the Classics, forgive me, for I have decieved you. As for my background, 我已不过问.

I am afraid you are wrong, ChiDragon. Look at the entire entry that I quoted from the Kangxi Dictionary, including its example in the Analects: Conversely, the very next sentence in the dictionary states: The character 端, confusingly, can refer to both beginnings and ends. However, in this context, a 语端 as spoken of in the Kangxi Dictionary is the start of a sentence or clause; a 语已 is the end. The examples, both from the Analects, that the Kangxi Dictionary draws upon demonstrate my point. Link to the digital version of the 《康熙字典》 that I drew from here: http://tool.httpcn.com/Html/KangXi/23/PWPWXVPWMEUYRNPWB.shtml

When used at the start of a sentence in classical Chinese, 夫 almost always is a particle (also called "empty word/function word/form word" in English and 虚字/虚词 in Chinese) which has no direct translation into English. Various sources agree that it is used when a new subject is being elucidated. For example, the excellent 《规范》 English-Chinese Chinese-English dictionary that Pleco software uses states: Similarly, the 《新华字典》 tells us: I offer my translation of the above quote: "used at the beginning of sentences, fu has the function of pointing out/prompting." The sentence in the third line, which the 《新华字典》 uses by way of example, could be translated as, "the people of Qin [one of the Warring States] have hearts like tigers and wolves." Note that in both the translation provided by 《规范》 and the one I made from the example in《新华字典》, 夫 is not translated. Luckily, we can also use ancient dictionaries to find definitions for word usages from ancient times. Thus, if one consults the 《康熙字典》(compiled during the Qing dynasty) one finds amongst the numerous definitions for 夫 the following: This passage tells us that it was recorded in four important dictionaries, namely the《广韵》, 《集韵》, 《韵会》, and 《正韵》, that 夫 was a word used to start (端) discourse (语). As for the second part, Here we are being given a definition of the word 夫 that I have never seen in any dictionary and which can be understood as an explanation of 夫 as a heiroglyph with a relationship to Daoist cultivation. First things first, as to why this particular definition does not show up in, for example, the 《康熙字典》, I will say that what this sentence presents is probably a relatively obscure and perhaps even contentious usage of 夫. Daoist definitions of words do make it into the 《康熙字典》, but from what I have seen, they almost all come from "mainstream" texts like Laozi, Zhuangzi, Liezi, or Ge Hong's Baopuzi, and not from little-known alchemical works. Confucian word uses are much, much more common in the 《康熙字典》, and in the Confucian tradition, the word 夫 refers to teachers. Thus, Confucius himself is given the title "孔老夫子." Anyway, to understand that we are talking about a heiroglyphic interpretation of the characters here, it is helpful to view the four in question side-by-side, to see how similar they are: 人 大 天 夫 This sentence describes the unfolding of an individual's change during the process of Daoist cultivation. The changes are represented first by the addition of two horizontal lines, turning 人 into 大 and then into 天 and finally by the addition of one vertical line, turning 天 into 夫). Hence, the explanation, which ChiDragon was kind enough to provide, although I am afraid his translation leaves out a number of very important key points. I have thus provided my own translation, adding color every time one of the horizontal and vertial lines appears: So in the above we see that the horizontal lines representing "obtaining" the one appear first, giving us the character for heaven; finally, when one cultivates to such a high level that one is no longer in the three realms, then one obtains a vertical line, indicating a very profound transcendence, true immortality in both a Daoist and Buddhist sense. I do not know for sure, but I suppose that the character 夫, understood in this sense, could be used as an honorific title for Daoist immortals, though I can't recall ever seeing it be used that way. All in all, the very esoteric and informative use of the word 夫 from the quoted passage has (probably) very little to do with the particle 夫 used at the beginning of sentences. Two final notes, 夫 originally depicts a grown-up man (大) with a long hairpin stuck through his topknot. Secondly, yes, 凡夫 means "ordinary man," but it is used in religious contexts to provide contrast to a human who has had spiritual awakening or who is perhaps a descended heavenly being.

Definitions 1, 2, and 3 all relate to what I am talking about. The point of 五行 theory is not that your body is an amalgamation of wood, water, fire, soil, and metal. That this is true can be most easily grasped if one remembers that, to the Chinese, five phase theory is applied to temporal patterns perhaps more than anything else. Thus: Spring: wood Summer: fire Longsummer and/or interstitial periods: earth/soil Autumn: metal Winter: water Is spring made out of wood? Is winter made out of water? The questions themselves, if one thinks in terms of physical materials, are nonsensical. The ancients were not idiots. Clearly something else is indicated by the 五行. Or again, Childhood/adolescence: wood Youth: fire Prime: earth/soil Decline: metal Dying: water Are babies made out of wood? Are old people made out of metal? Again, the ancients were not idiots.

Both systems are understood and spoken of in Chinese philosophy, medicine, cultivation, and so forth. In China the five phases are called the 五行 and the four elements are called the 四大. The former refers to five states or phases of existence: growing/rising; expanding/flourishing; diminishing/falling; contracting/storing; and stable. It does not refer to literally to the materials of wood, fire, soil, metal, and water, even though those materials are used to represent these five states/phases. The latter refers to the four fundamental constituents of the physical universe. The idea came to China alongside Buddhism and is considered an originally-Buddhist concept here. When spoken of in China by those who understand this vocabulary there is no contradiction, because the two systems refer to different ideas. Therefore, in a single sentence one can refer to both systems without confusion nor need for reconciliation or melding, because the phases refer to phases and the elements refer to elements.

What you speak of is real and I have seen it firsthand, although that is not to say that quotes are never attributed. Sometimes one sees a simple, "经曰," which could be translated as, "it is said in the classics;" other times one might see a past text or individual's name next to a quote; other times text might be repeated with no attribution. All three possibilities arise in texts I have read that were written 2,000 years ago all the way up to the Qing Dynasty. However, from what I understand and what I have observed, what we are talking about is usually the repetition of teachings, usually in the form of short segments of text: aphorisms, maxims, and fundamental knowledge that is often very widely known (like wuji gives birth to taiji, etc). For example, there are a few sentences early on in the Yellow Emperor's Inner Classic that famously are almost a direct quote from the Daodejing. The presence of these sentences is often referenced in to show Daoism's influence on early Chinese medicine. Indeed, the sentences are not attributed to Laozi. In fact, nobody knows who wrote the Inner Classic. I can also think of one example where I saw a piece of 玄武's (the Perfected Warrior) hagiography show up in the hagiography of a Tibetan master. My barely-qualified observation is that, yes, in both ancient and modern China, what would be called plagiarism in the West is viewed very differently. However, in my opinion, the above is very different from what we see with Deng's use of Blofeld, in that I very much doubt Xuanwu or the Tibetan master's hagiographies were written under their own direction, while they were still living and conveniently accepting students and selling books. As with you and YMWong, I do not want to demonize Deng and Kai/Kwan, but calling a spade a spade is a good idea in these murky times, I believe. So did these two fellas hurt somebody? I'll answer with a question: On this forum over the years, you have shared with the public many stories from your life that I remember well: encountering the old ladies outside of a church in Russia, one of whom screamed "the Virgin Mary;" encounters with Wang Liping, such as the one where he showed you how he could move his liver around at will; the acupuncturist who flung his needles across the room at you like darts; ancedotes from conversations with taiji teachers; etc. You have also shared a great many ideas and opinions. Now, imagine if I were a fellow in the "business" of teaching Daoism as well as writing and selling books about Daoism, and I started to rather liberally "borrow" from your extensive contributions to this website, using the material on a personal blog or in an autobiograpy to bolster my claim--real or false--that I am a Dragon Gate Daoist teacher, martial artist, and healer with various accomplishments and a certain colorful circle of accomplished contemporaries. Perhaps I even go so far as to start "borrowing" from Open the Dragon Gate or Chronicles of Tao, or perhaps a much-lesser known book, like The Monastery of Jade Mountain. So I gather a few students around me, I sell a few books. I make a few friends on Facebook. What's the big deal? Anybody get hurt? Hard to say, hard to say, really depends how you look at it, no? After all, in the case of Deng and Kwan, are there not many people out there who say these books and these two men have helped them? Might my work not be helpful as well? And Taomeow wasn't selling her stories, so it's not like I was taking any money out of her pocket, right? Granted, granted. Ah, Walker, you truly know how to 捣浆糊. But how about another question: Am I personally embodying the timeless, simple, unchanging virtues passed down from high antiquity in extremely clear and concise language, in text after text, in daily regimen after daily regiment, through repetition after repetition, in temple after temple and home after home, by master after master and parent after parent? The answer to that one is very, very clear. And thus it is said, over and over and over again: 以身作则，为人师表, 返朴归真 and 大道至简 (If you'll excuse a few unattributed quotes, )

It is easy to have a bit of a soft spot for Chronicles of Tao if one read it at a certain stage in one's life and one's affinity with Daoism. But Taomeow, come on. What Shanlung points to is not mystification, nor embellishing a man's life story for the sake of telling a good story, nor using pseudonyms or noms de plume, even if all those things are in there. The problem he points to is demonstrable plagiarism and invention of fake episodes to be passed off as real with the likely intent as well as apparent result of drawing followers to a sham offered by the two men involved in the fraudulent writing. This is called bamboozling, which, unfortunately, is also a long-running tradition, and one that besets many who would wish to study Daoism and much else in the world that can be studied. Deng and Kwan may have inspired some people to look further into Daoism. But there is red dust on their hands, too, perhaps a lot of it. Stealing from Blofeld and lying to obtain followers and an audience is simply not in line with the ways of the tradition that Kwan and Deng claim to represent. Therein, and not in literary devices, lies the problem.

Spreading, healthy, and growing is the qi of the wood phase--曲直. If it "gets old and dry," that will mean that it has not just left the wood phase, but also moved past the fire phase of flourishing and the earth phase of stability, and entered the dying metal phase--肃杀、燥金. Finally, the seizing you have mentioned is analogous to the 收藏 function of the water phase. In other words, if you are correctly using five element terminology, then when the internet leaves its current phase, it will no longer be comprable to wood. Caveat: yes, you could still compare its life cycle to the life cycle of a tree. But you must realize that even a tree-which ironically is actually made of wood--is only in the wood phase during its growth period. (All five phases are passed through during the lifespan; during each year; during each day; even during each breath) A great confusion about what the five phases refers to comes from thinking that the word 木, in this context, was intended to mean, "things that resemble things that are made out of wood." The wood phase refers to a particular phase--growth (生) and rising (升/昇)--in the existential cycle of all things that manifest.

The answers to your latest question and your earlier ones appear in vivid and thoughtful detail in the Silvers book, which is indeed the one with the subtitle you mentioned. By $5, I was referring to the price of using Interlibrary Loan services. I again highly recommend you get the book.

ILL usually costs about $5, last I used it Stateside, anyway. Well worth it for this book, as Silvers wrote it precisely to address the questions of someone in your shoes, and does so admirably. I'll add that its instructions closely mirror those I have received elsewhere from a Daoist teacher. I believe the book can be trusted, although, as the corpus of Daoist knowledge is truly vast, it can of course not be seen as comprehensive. For the purposes of a home altar, however, it is a solid start.

NewDaoist: Brock Silvers' book "The Taoist Manual" contains extensive and detailed instructions and commentary on the preparation for, building of, and maintenance of a Daoist altar. It also speaks to the choice of deities. The book is well-illustrated and contains much other information that you may find useful as your affinity for this aspect of Daoism develops. Edit: even better, it is a light, enjoyable, welcoming read, in case you don't like heavy academic stuff. If you don't want to buy it, I'm sure you can use interlibrary loan. Word to the wise: never listen to ChiDragon when he enters conversations on these kinds of topics. His hobby of making up nonsense that has little to do with the reality of the Daoist religion and then passing it off as fact borders on the pathological.

There are direct references to Daoist practice and philosophy throughout this doctor's work. Interesting lecture touching on many points. http://www.tudou.com/programs/view/WxcPP9TxhY8/

Learning classical Chinese is an incredibly time-consuming, life-long project, even for Chinese people. The language is truly vast--if one picks up old books, one is bound to come across new characters and unfamiliar uses of common characters. For a start, as was said above, you need a foundation vocabulary. It is said that a foundation vocabulary of the size needed for scholastic endeavors is around 5,000 characters. People say about 3,000 is what you need for the newspaper. You might think, "well, I don't want to learn modern Chinese, so I will just get a good dictionary and a good grammar of classical Chinese and launch right into the classics," but at best such an endeavor would be exceedingly awkward, imo. Learning modern Chinese is actually a very good foundation for learning classical Chinese because (a) vestiges of classical Chinese remain scattered all throughout the modern language and ( b once you know modern Chinese you can read relevant modern books which can deepen your understanding of the classical language (as well as, potentially, add to you your confusion--but that's another story). Once you are ready to start learning classical Chinese you might consider the Language of the Dragon textbook series which can be found on Amazon. It contains many useful exercises based on small stories that are now standard teaching tools in China. Also, you will need the right dictionaries. Shuowen Jiezi (说文解字) and Kangxi Zidian (康熙字典) are both indispensible. I know that both are available in well-made iPhone apps, and might be in Android, too. When you have a certain level of skill, then there are actually many modern textbooks for native Chinese-speaking university students in China who are studying classical Chinese. A good one will contain numerous exercises including interpretation of meaning; understanding the meaning of a certain character in various contexts; and, very importantly, punctuation (classical texts generally have none, and modern reprints of classical texts contain both punctuation mistakes as well as punctuation decisions which are under debate). Pulleyblank's book looks like a good buy.

You might be right and clearly wild ginseng is the ideal--nobody would argue with that--but the worldwide yearly output of real wild ginseng is apparently only a few kilograms. Prices for the real stuff are astronomical. I have been told by reliable sources that upwards of 95% of ginseng found in bulk herb markets China--the places where some or most of the pharmacies get their herbs--is simply fake. Cultivated ginseng, conversely, is not without the ability to help patients. It remains an effective herb to this day, even if (a) it is not as potent as it once was and ( there is debate as to what plant, precicesly, the ancients were using in their formulas.

I visited the foot of the Changbaishan Mountains (长白山) in China's Northeast last fall and hiked all around the woods where I was staying. I was stunned at how similar the flora, fauna, landscape, and temperature all were to the NE United States--there were places that looked, to my untrained eye, just like some of the woods I've hiked in CT and Mass. Changbaishan is where most of the best Chinese ginseng (人参) grows, from what I understand. With that in mind, if your environs are anything like New England, then you might consider planting some ginseng in your backyard (or, if you think you might move, investing in a big enough pot so it can move with you) and taking good care of it. The youngest ginseng ought to be harvested is after 10 years, and that's early; 20 years would be better; and it can get much older. You would thus have a plant nourished and nurtured, growing old with you. When old age arrives, or perhaps if you or a loved one have to recover from an illness, you would have much higher quality ginseng on hand than all but the richest and most well-connected can find today--and it would have been imbued with your own qi and love for a long, long time. Not a bad investment--provided you know how to harvest, prepare, and dose it!

Some of you might find this recent upload interesting: www.youtube.com/watch?v=E0uZ8HX7Xp4 I could only skim it before I left the States, and can't watch it in China. But with so many practitioners in one clip, there must be somebody good, eh! I'd like to see diagrams if you ever make them, JustBHappy. Also, I agree that baguazhang practice can/should heal the knees and other parts of the body (though I should say that I also practice standing and seated meditation as well as a taiji form taught by the same teacher who teaches me bagua). It has been my experience that healing will occur if one has good tutelage, but that the opposite will happen if one's instructions are poor or if one misunderstands instructions and the teacher doesn't spot the mistake. I studied with one gentleman in Beijing under whose instruction a problem in my left leg gradually worsened until I was in major trouble and chronically in pain, occasionally bad enough to be tear jerking while I walked normally around the city. When things kept getting worse instead of better and I made up my mind that training with him was going to wreck my body, all he could offer when I parted was, "well, maybe your meridians aren't open." Aside from being able to state the obvious, unfortunately, he seemed to have little else to offer in my case. Then nearly a year later, when I moved to another city and started with my current teacher, the problem started to return with a vengeance. I thought maybe I just didn't have the body for bagua. However, in classic old man style, my teacher wordlessly shoved my body into as correct a posture as I could manage, and things instantly started to get better. Then began a healing process that has allowed many health issues to resolve.

http://www.flickr.com/photos/8485166@N08/1525339120/

You fellas are too kind

Not to nitpick, but Liao Kong was Qianfeng's master; Qianfeng (or 千峰老人) was a name taken by Zhao Bichen... Right? If there is a text circulating written directly by Liao Kong's hand, I would be interested to see it.

Tibetan Buddhism has a large presence all over China. Many Han Chinese practice, sometimes visiting Tibet and Tibetan regions of Sichuan to further their studies in intensives and retreats. Teachers from Tibetan Buddhism, including "living buddhas," also travel all over China to teach their Chinese followers. However (1) foreigners will have a very difficult time getting into Tibet, including Tibetan areas of Sichuan, Qinghai, Yunnan, etc, except with a full-time tour guide and (2) there is almost no way, barring cloak and dagger activities, that you as a foreigner can become a Tibetan Buddhist monk in China, especially in ethnically-Tibetan regions, and certainly not in Tibet itself. Case in point: I know one Han Chinese Gelugpa nun and one Han Chinese Gelugpa monk. However, for the sake of avoiding hassle the nun wears Chinese Buddhist garb (very different from Tibetan robes) and the monk either wears the same or street clothes altogether. Furthermore, the nun has to sneak into Lhasa in street clothes, appearing to be a tourist, whenever she returns to her home monastery. You can see that their lives as monks and nuns are already difficult. You, as a white foreigner? Forget about it. (However, if you were working/studying in China, attending teachings as a layperson would be no problem, provided you never get involved in political activities). The situation with Chan Buddhism in China is not vastly unlike what I have described with Daoism in China, although there are more temples that cater to members of the public who want to receive teachings and enter into retreat in Buddhism than in Daoism. I also daresay that the situation with Buddhism may be somewhat less chaotic than that with Daoism, but beware that beneath the saintly visage many monastics of both religions have nothing of substance to offer you. Anyway, like YMWong said, there is no monk visa you can hope for. If you or anybody is serious about wanting to live as a Chan Buddhist monk in mainland China, prepare to spend many years learning the language, learning the lay of the land and the culture, weeding out impostors (Buddhism has plenty, too), making friends who can pull strings for you, and searching for a place where they take foreigners, want you to be there, and teach real Buddhism. Impossible? No, because exceptions are the rule to every rule in China. Likely that you will find what you are looking for in the short term? No. Put another way, there is no way that a foreigner could expect to land in China and slip easily, smoothly, and quickly into a monastic cultivation environment, regardless the religion, unless he or she has some very unusual karma. YMWong's advice to you is worth keeping in mind. If you are really serious about studying Tibetan Vajrayana Buddhism in a monastic environment, there are monastic communities in this tradition all over the Western world you can consider, no need to leave your country or learn a new language. Why not slowly check such communities out to see if monastic life even suits you? If it does and you are heart-set on learning in the original language of the teachings, life in India should be more than livable to one who plans on transcending worldly worries anyway. If sanitation in India is enough to scare you off, then you should be aware that the People's Republic of China is also a filthy place.