Last week I started a class on zhan zhuang, or stance training, which is one of the most fundamental practices in internal martial arts and, more importantly to me, is a core practice designed to build energy in one’s root.

A number of things are beginning to come together for me at this point. I’ve been practicing qigong, as well as a form of pranayama, for a year and a half, and the qi is coming more under my mind’s control. It’s feeling more and more palpable and malleable. I could definitely see how it could be harnessed for martial purposes, for instance, or magical ends, if my inclinations lay in that direction. But thus far, I’ve been content with getting it flowing regularly in my body. That’s been my daily exercise.

Also I’ve been taking monthly Alexander Technique lessons, and in working with this practice, have continued to open my body, and to use my structure more efficiently. Over the last year and a half of these lessons, I’ve virtually eliminated my chronic back soreness, and I’m slowly discovering a wider range of postures and physical possibilities in any given situation, which is quite freeing.

Of course I’ve continued to have ongoing acupuncture and herb treatments.

Still, I had begun to chafe at the slowness of my progress with my fatigue problem. The reason I had decided to start taking Shaolin kung fu was to build more energy, but I tanked out of that after a few months. But my favorite exercise in those classes were the zhan zhuang, precisely because they were meant to build qi.

Just recently the instructor decided to start up a separate class focusing solely on zhan zhuang as a general health practice rather than in the context of a martial arts class, and I jumped at the chance.

I was glad that I did. Just in the first class, I found a substantial increase in the quantity of energy circulating in my body. In the first three days of regular practice, in fact, I found that I had increased the free energy in my body so much that it was outpacing my body’s ability to utilize it. I was sleeping restlessly and getting more easily frustrated because I didn’t have anywhere to put my energy. So I had to back off. It was powerful stuff.

Now I wish I had had this practice a lot earlier in my life. I can see so many uses for qigong that I wonder that such powerful practices are not more integrated into life. I know, most people don’t even believe in qi. But for those who are open enough to experiencing it, and stick with it long enough to use it, and have people to guide them in the right direction, I don’t see how you can do without it. That is to say, I know that it would be difficult for me to do without it.

One of my frustrations, actually, is that I’ve done some zhan zhuang before, but it never really gave me these kinds of results.

Back when I was living in the woods, I had a copy of Kenneth Cohen’s The Way of Qigong, in which he recommends up to thirty minutes of standing meditation as the foundational practice. So I remember muggy summer mornings in which I braved the mosquitoes to try to stand, as well as cold winter mornings when I stood all bundled up in thick wool clothes. Though I felt like I got marginal benefit from it, it never quite worked for me as an energy building exercise. It was more of a purely mental meditation.

A couple of years later, on a trip through Oregon, I stopped in on a Yiquan class taught by a guy named Gregory Fong, who made me stand in an excruciatingly low posture, which really worked my legs. I got some useful pointers on specific details of the posture, but ultimately I didn’t keep up with that practice. Now I know that he was more focused on the use of zhan zhuang to train the mind and muscles for martial arts purposes.

I haven’t had a lot of experience with competing qigong styles, but right now I have to endorse Shaolin Wahnam as having a very effective way of instructing people to access and use their qi. They’ve helped me a lot by putting a lot of emphasis on the nei gong aspect of qigong, which is to say, they systematically (and gently) walk you through the use of your mind to affect qi, and, they put the direct experience of qi at the forefront of your practice right from the very beginning. So you know it’s not bullshit because you have the proof of your own experience. This very practical and empirical approach has been very effective for me, and it’s not something I’ve seen elsewhere, even with other qigong styles or internal martial arts.

Although, I do have to point out that I do not wholeheartedly endorse Wahnam as the sole source of my increased vitality; rather, their practice, combined with the many other things I’m doing, has a very synergistic effect. Still, I’m certainly seeing a lot of benefit from the zhan zhuang alone.

Surprisingly, in some ways I’m now grappling with the oncoming reality of having too much energy and not enough meaningful ways to express or use that energy. Kind of interesting. That’s an unfamiliar challenge that I haven’t had to grapple with for a long time.

At any rate, qigong is a pretty amazing thing, and I have to reiterate how much I think it would fit in with primitivism. I’m finding that I can extend it to almost anything I do, with a little concentration. Most notably, I used to find walking tiring, even very short distances, like down the driveway to get the mail. Now, I’m beginning to feel energized after even a longer walk. I’m beginning to see that it might be possible to spend more time outdoors, eventually; to enjoy the wind without shivering, to spend a day in rain without feeling weakened, to walk barefoot without feeling abused and drained.

That’s progress.

And the more validity I find in qigong and the Chinese medical conceptions of fitness, the more I’m realizing how draining and debilitating modern Western conceptions about exercise can be. I prefer the Chinese ideal of longevity, quality of life, and harmony with the Dao, to the Western ideal of six-pack abs and bulging biceps so you can wow people and pick up chicks.

Some things to ponder.