207. Genchitaofu Baguazhang's Qi - 艮氣道福八卦掌の氣

The traditional Chinese character for qi is made up of two parts. The first upper part is the character for air. The second lower part is the character for rice. For a lot of rice eating countries, rice is the staple and represents earthly qi; earthly nourishment. And by further extension: A person's wealth. From time to time, you will notice that I will talk about qi and wealth combined. They are interlinked. Even now, in our Western capitalist based society in which wealth and success tends to get measured by how much money we have, money is a form of energy exchange between people: Electronic numerical transactions that is only underwritten (these days) by the might of the country that prints it, if that. The Genchitaofu Baguazhang's Qi is about fully comprehending qi in all its tangible forms. And as a result, appreciating what true reality was for the ancient masters instead of just idealizing romantic notions of the past, by having real life as the ultimate sensei. To give you an example. Towards the end of 2019, a guide of the Japanese Imperial Palace, posted on social media a picture by Yoshitoshi called 'Inamurgasaki no akebono no tsuki" or in english: The Promontory Moon at Daybreak. As part of the posting, the guide wrote: I feel heartbreaking grief when I see the painting by Yoshitoshi. Nitta Yoshida (1301 – 1338) was about to throw his sword into the sea. The sword is a symbol of the samurai. To throw a sword (into the sea) means to die for a samurai. It was a beautiful yet poinent scene. And because it also touched something within me as well, I decided to leave this comment: I love this moment. I can't tell you how many times I've experienced this moment in my own life. I thought that would be it, but to my surprise, I got a reply: Peter-san, did you? Would you tell me more about it if possible? Sure, I answered. If you don't mind... Out here in the west, the samurai are seen from a highly romantic ideal. And while a lot of men and boys dream of being one, we give lip-service to it by choosing to only focus on the fantasy that never was. To live in the modern world like a true samurai (in the original meaning of the word, first) is to confront the stark realities of everyday life. Yes, I do martial arts everyday & yes, I practice with katanas. But it is when I'm kneeling on the wooden floor with the katana laying in front of me, that there are times when I have to confront a scene where my rice bucket is literally (NOT metaphorically) less than half full. Yes. I kid you not. My wealth is tied to how much rice I have in my house. The day I discovered this truth was the day I was arguing with my wife about the original meaning of samurai. For her (being Chinese) it meant Japanese Bushido. But for me it means to serve. But without an earthly lord, I work for "Upper Management". Have I come close to throwing away my katana in the trash? Many times. Usually over money issues. But each time, I listen to my soul. Put the katana back in its resting place. And cross the river. When I was done, I posted my reply. But she replied, saying: Peter-san, thank you. Everything starts to dream, and I am sure we are reaching a romantic ideal, slowly, day by day. Thank you. I enjoyed it! I don't think she fully understood what I was saying. And I don't blame her. I was recounting a specific moment of my life I do not want to repeat, relive or revisit. It was part of my 'staying grounded and keeping it real' martial arts phase. Which is ironic. Because what was a painful series of situations for me, and my family, sounds to other people like a sailor's tall tale about catching the big one that got away. But whatever you want to believe, and you're welcome to laugh on it, but I can tell you this: I will always make sure my house is well-stocked with rice.