Qigong – body awareness of a different kind

 First published 9th June 2021

I first encountered Qigong when I was exploring anything and everything that I could find that I thought might help to restore my mental health from a point of crisis to some semblance of stability. That was over 25 years ago, and I had a long and arduous journey ahead of me. Along the way I took part occasionally in Qigong classes and workshops. It wasn’t until some years later, however, when I was struggling to push through the challenges of a demanding job – in itself part of my recovery process – that I considered a more regular commitment to the practise of Qigong.

Google searches came up with limited references to Qigong being offered locally. Luckily, one of these few was an evening class at a school just a few miles from where I was living, in Leeds.

An online Medical Dictionary notes:

Qigong (pronounced “chee-gung,” also spelled chi kung) is translated from the Chinese to mean “energy cultivation” or “working with the life energy.” Qigong is an ancient Chinese system of postures, exercises, breathing techniques, and meditations. Its techniques are designed to improve and enhance the body’s qi. According to traditional Chinese philosophy, qi is the fundamental life energy responsible for health and vitality.

The Dictionary goes on to state:

Qigong may be used as a daily routine to increase overall health and well-being, as well as for disease prevention and longevity. It can be used to increase energy and reduce stress. In China, qigong is used in conjunction with other medical therapies for many chronic conditions, including asthma, allergies, AIDS, cancer, headaches, hypertension, depression, mental illness, strokes, heart disease, and obesity.

Qigong is presently being used in Hong Kong to relieve depression and improve the overall psychological and social well-being of elderly people with chronic physical illnesses.

[Source: https://medical-dictionary.thefreedictionary.com/qigong]

While I can’t claim that I commit to a daily practice – not yet anyway – I have been attending these evening classes – and some day workshops at weekends too – with the same teacher ever since. 

When the Covid lockdowns first started, Sue Dunham – the teacher – was quick off the mark with setting up Zoom classes.  Just as in the live classes, Sue’s commitment to her own practice and to sharing her knowledge and vast experience has shone through into these Zoom sessions.

Sue doesn’t just demonstrate what to do for us to follow. She talks through and builds up each movement step by step, repeating as necessary; infinitely thorough and always engaging.  Her approach is very meditative and mindful, working deep on different themes in each group of three classes.  During the height of the pandemic, focusing on the lungs could not have been more appropriate, and we’ve also recently worked on the spine and the digestive system. 

Though the movements are slow and steady, I find that I sleep really well after a class session, and wake in the morning with the sense that I’ve had a really good workout, even though it isn’t ‘exercise’ in the conventional sense.

According to Sue:

“Qigong is an extraordinary practice: it can bring you to question fundamental beliefs about mind and your life, bringing you to that in a supported, gentle way. I have found it to be accessible and yet challenging, it’s enigmatic but intriguing!”

One of my favourite Qigong movements is called ‘Healing Form’, and Qigong has certainly become an essential part of my own movement towards health and healing.

When I started to become aware of my body, as a teenager, it was on the basis of how it looked. The negative compulsive obsessions I developed were – I realise now – associated with complex psychological and emotional traumas that have taken me 50 years to unravel.

Fortunately for me, my body was and is healthy and, while I continued well into adulthood to control my life by controlling what I ate, my body served me well. Deep roots hold tight, though, and it was a long time – being ultimately faced with the choice of life or no life – before I was able to find the strength, coping mechanisms, and resolve, to push through and come out the other side.

Qigong has helped me to work at a deeper level with my body – my amazing body.

It hasn’t provided me with a miracle ‘cure’ but it has helped to shift my focus into health and wellbeing, which is where it should be.

I feel a lot ‘lighter’ these days, even though I’m 65 and probably weigh at least 4 stone more than I did when I was 15. At six-and-a-half stone and still feeling the need to lose weight, I was weighed down and locked in as a teenager.

Some of the grief, sadness and regret linger on, but less so day by day. I’m thankful for a lot of things and hope that I can continue to be so for many years to come. Qigong helps me to nurture my body, with all its intricate mechanisms for feeding and flow.

One of the wonderful things about this practice is that it takes me beyond what I ‘know’, what I can measure or evaluate, into that sense of wonder, about what I don’t know, with all the associated mysteries of those realms.

When I’m practising Qigong, under Sue’s infinitely patient and painstaking instruction, I feel as graceful as a dancer, and that – for me – is something of a miracle.

The Covid pandemic has shown us just how vulnerable any of us can be, at any age, but also how those vulnerability factors can increase as we get older. The more we can do ourselves to mitigate those factors, the more likely we are to be able to lead fulfilling, meaningful lives for longer.  That’s my plan, anyway, and I’m sticking to it!

If you want to know more about Qigong, you can visit Sue’s website and Facebook pages via the following links:  https://www.facebook.com/suedunhamqigong and this https://sites.google.com/view/qigongwithsue/home.

Additional references:

http://chineseheritage.co.uk/

https://www.paulcavel.com/

Day 28

Continuing the story of Lydia and Me

On the 28th day in my latest cycle of “Writing for Life”, I reflect on how far I’ve come.

For a long time, I thought and hoped that I would eventually arrive at a point of ‘recovery’ from the difficulties and distress that I’ve been working through for most of my life.

It hasn’t worked out like that though; in fact, it’s worked out better.

I’m still not and probably never will be a ‘morning person’. I need a lot of time to rest in bed, even if I’m not sleeping.  I don’t ‘seize the day’ with a leap and a jump but it doesn’t matter.  I let myself be what I am while still working steadily on turning old, ingrained patterns into new ones.  Big cogs take a longer time to turn and I do what I can when I can, in positive ways.

Rather than ‘recover’ to a known point, I’ve grown into the unknown; a place that is at times unfamiliar and uncomfortable. This opens up possibilities for further growth, pushing me to experience much more of life than I ever could have imagined.

It’s taken a massive amount of energy and effort and every last bit of motivation that I can muster, but I know that I have gone a long way towards training my mind and will keep doing just that.

While I take a short break from writing my daily blog, I’ll republish earlier posts. I’ll also be putting together paperback versions of my two latest books, available on Amazon for Kindle and Kindle Unlimited:

https://amzn.eu/d/0WFLADz

https://amzn.eu/d/aD4H94B

Thank you for your support.  See you soon.

Day 25

Continuing the story of Lydia and Me

I decided that my tired mind would benefit from a bit of focused activity so I turned to cleaning up my creative corner in the lounge.

After a walk with Lydia and a short meditation, I set to.

Bowls of dry clay are now outside, soaking up water, until they are ready to be reconstituted into that malleable substance that is so versatile.

I’m moving in a different direction now in my work with clay.  I have no idea what that direction is, only that it is different.

It feels good, to have tidied and sorted, thrown out, re-organised.

With my ‘plan’ for pottery now in place, I turn to poetry.

There is a meeting of the poetry group coming up, and our theme this month is ‘A painting’. The remit is to interpret this as broadly as we want to (which of course is our prerogative anyway, as creators/writers).

My poem is this:

A painting

A painting
can be anything
you want it
to be

A flower
A wall
A tree

Brush goes into pot
Paint loads
Hand holds
And then it flows

Wherever
and however
you want it
to go

The mark is made
and then it’s gone
in the blink
of an eon

Is the painting
in the pot?
Or on the wall?

Where does the call
to paint
come from?

Is the painting
in the mark
or the mark
on the canvas
or the wall
or the wood?

It can be good
to paint
or not

It just depends
on what is in
the paint
and what is in
the pot

© Maggie Baker – Glad the Poet – 2025

I do now feel a sense of mental energy coming through; the tiredness was temporary; doing something constructive helped.