Sinking the Chi

The man in the video tells me to gaze far into the sky while I sink my chi. I am boxed in between bed and TV, trying to extend my arms gracefully during evening tai chi. "Easy for him to do," I exhale, "he is gazing on a beach in Maui where the sky is perfectly blue and distance is what you want to make of it."



But it is absolutely necessary that I sink my chi; it has been polluted and must give way to new energy. Ten after five; I just came home from shopping. A driver had given me the finger after he had sped past me on a 25 mph stretch. A few blocks later a young man walked purposefully, slowly, across the street, looking at me, daring me to do what? Ignore him? Pay attention to him? And in the Safeway parking lot a woman parked in the space that I had my eyes on. She came from the opposite direction and made a sharp left turn in front of me. My chi is very uptight. My chi is stuck. I have to sink my chi.

This morning I had pulled the tai chi video cassette from the bottom drawer of the book case. I've had it for years, but only occasionally play it. In my bedroom is an old TV that still accepts this outdated format. My urge to practice tai chi comes shortly after the retreat in the Oakland Hills; apparently my cleansed and well fed soul has run dry already.

I'll have to improvise, imagine a far away gazing point. I imagine that my chi has to be sunk into a forest - into a soft and fertile ground. My gaze will seek new energy in the deep green of a never-ending forest. That's when I turn and look at the landscape above my bed. Perfect. Well, maybe I should have a mirror to be able to follow the instructions of the tai master on TV.



While I add my own periodic "turning from tree scape above the bed to Maui sky on TV" movements to the program, I realize that I am not in the moment. My mind wanders. It tries to put together a group of green yarn balls. The mind's eye is a funny thing; like "the gut feeling" it has its own agenda. Mine follows, blissfully, a string of interrelated thoughts on shades of green, knitting, Bears, children, fir trees, birches, oaks, a baobab. Oh! Haven't thought of that magic baobab for a while.

Did I just sink my chi? With the baobab? Suddenly I am excited. That's what I need - Arrivederci gelato in the piazza! Bear 267, Hanna, and Bear 268, Iphigenie, you are it, the tail end of the ice cream escapade in lovely Roma. I need to go green for a while.