An old photo from my archive captures a serene spot on Dartmoor, Devon—a place where I love to sit and practice mindful meditation, fully immersed in the beauty of nature.
Reflection
Water has a unique way of mirroring life back to us. Sitting by its edge creates a quiet space for reflection, as I listen to its soothing sounds and watch it mirror the skies and trees. In our own practices, where have we been uprooted or thrown off balance? Where in our lives have we felt rigid, unable to flow like water, held back by the weight of our emotions or actions?
"Nature does not rush, yet everything is accomplished."
Lao Tzu
Today was a profoundly enriching experience as I concluded the week with the Mindful Dragon session, where we delved into the elements of wood, water, and more. It was incredible to deepen my understanding of what it truly means to embody the essence of water—adaptability, flow, and resilience. I completed the full session, and later in the day, it felt as though I had tapped into new insights about the rigidity of anger and how healing negative emotions is essential to achieving a harmonious flow.
Following the session, I experienced a slight healing crisis, which allowed me to really tune into my body and the emotions I had been carrying. I started to uncover what I had unconsciously been holding onto and struggled to release. I realised how much anger I had suppressed—anger that had been building for some time. I knew its origins: it stemmed from people planting ideas in my mind about someone I deeply valued. Over time, hearing others speak negatively about this person caused my anger to compound, to the point where I found it difficult to be around them. It was deeply painful because this individual had played a pivotal role in my healing journey. They were the first person I felt safe enough to be vulnerable with, to trust, and to open myself to love—something I rarely allow myself to do. Letting down my guard took immense courage, yet the experience was tainted by others who manipulated the situation, played both sides, and subtly undermined me, creating unnecessary conflict and emotional blockages.
The experience hurt, deeply. I wasn’t a threat to anyone, yet I felt betrayed and misunderstood. However, today’s session reminded me to be gentle with myself. The exercises encouraged sensitivity and self-compassion, allowing me to practice at my own pace without the pressure to "keep up." For once, I was free to move with my own flow, and that in itself was healing.
One of the exercises had a graceful, fluid quality—almost like water in motion—encouraging me to move with intentional softness. What I gained went far beyond my expectations. My heart opened, allowing me to express my truth from a place deeper than anger, uncovering emotions like forgiveness, love, and acceptance. As I repeated the practice, I discovered something even more profound—a gentle softness within myself. It became clear that, regardless of others' actions, my reactions and words were mine to reflect on and shape. This led me to a vital question: how can I become more adaptable and flow more gracefully through life's challenges? While I don’t have all the answers yet, I feel certain that clarity will continue to unfold as I progress on this journey. The beauty of it all is that, before embracing Qi Gong, I was searching—trying various methods to transform the energy blockages I felt. Now, I’m beginning to experience the shift I had been longing to find.
We hope the transformative practice of Gi Gong or tai chi inspires and empowers you. Remember, it’s a profoundly personal journey of self-discovery and inner growth. Until next time...