1

Chapter 4
Alchemy, Nèigōng, and Traditional Chinese Medicine

1. Introduction by way of Field Experience

The preceding chapter on divination detailed the influence of the Zhōuyì and the Chinese
mainstream’s relational/analogical worldview on popular divination in modern China. It
explored what can only be called an “iterative loop” of influence between the various aspects of
the Chinese religio-magical worldview (Wǔxíng, mìng, yùn, and the like), and the development
of both the Zhōuyì itself. It also explored the various other mantic practices on which the Zhōuyì
has had a philosophic influence (Fēngshuǐ, Bāzì, Shǔxìng, and so forth). And it tracked the
development of the Changes from its roots in the Shang dynasty Royal Cultus to its current
incarnation in the popular culture of the PRC and the Chinese Diaspora community. Not
surprisingly, what is valid for the Changes of Zhou and its offshoots is equally true for another
subset of traditional practice – modern TCM. The same archetypal concepts (Wǔxíng, the
balance of Yin and Yang, and other staples of Chinese metaphysics) that one finds operative in
conventional divination methods are also operative in the contemporary medical tradition. Nor
are traditional alchemical concepts (specifically Nèidān, but also the herbal and chemical
schools) absent from modern TCM practice. It will be argued that the range of techniques
comprising modern Nèigōng/qìgōng and TCM are practical, modern applications of the
worldview expressed in such works as the Zhōuyì, the Huángdì Nèijīng, and Tàiyǐ Jīnhuá
Zōngzhǐ. They have simply modernized continuations of a much older traditional continuum.
During the late Zhou dynasty, around 320 BCE, (roughly 300 years after the compilation
of the Zhōuyì), the finishing touches were being put on another text of equal importance to
Chinese culture -- the 黄帝内经 Huángdì Nèijīng, variously known in English as The Yellow
Emperor’s Inner Classic or The Yellow Emperor’s Classic of Internal Medicine. The Zhōuyì
deals with the laws of Dào as they apply to one’s mìngyùn (“fate” and “luck” combined into a
single term implying the whole pattern of destiny) and one’s place in the grand scheme of
relationships that comprises the universe. The Huángdì Nèijīng, on the other hand, applies those
same laws and patterns to the inner workings of one’s body and the attainment of health and
longevity. Unlike the Zhōuyì, however, this treatise on medicine and “inner work” (meditation
and inner alchemy) is relatively unknown to the English-speaking public.
All this scholarly quibbling about dates of authorship is, of course, a moot point to the
average Chinese layperson. Like the Zhōuyì and Fēngshuǐ (and every other practice dealt with in
chapter 3), the ideas behind TCM are much older than the texts in which they find their first
written expression. There is archeological and textual evidence that some of the practices that
comprise TCM have been in circulation for at least 5000 years, and probably longer. Also,
culturally and mythologically, they have their origins in the Before-Time. In the case of the
Zhōuyì, it is the primal dyad of Fúxī and Nǚwā who are the progenitors of both the method of
divination and the cosmology behind it. The Nèijīng, likewise, traces its roots to another culture
hero from the second half of this mythic epoch (known as 三皇五帝 Sān Huáng Wǔ Dì or Three
Magnificent Ones and Five Emperors/Thearchs). This character, Huángdì (most often translated
as the Yellow Emperor), is the heavily mythologized pre-Xia first “emperor” of China. He is also
the disseminator of the knowledge which he had inherited from the Three Magnificent Ones: 伏
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羲 Fúxī, 女娲 Nǚwā, and 神农 Shēnnóng. Of these, Shēnnóng, or the Divine Farmer (the god of
agriculture, animal husbandry, and medicine), was the source of medical knowledge. According
to the 淮南子 Huáinánzī1, he tasted every herb, mineral, and animal part, with an eye to its
medical properties or its nature as a poison. He then taught the people to use the medicinal plants
and avoid the poisonous ones.
As with the Zhōuyì and other practices, there is still a considerable amount of esoteric
practice/metaphysical speculation associated with TCM. As will be seen later in the chapter, a
large chunk of TCM theory does not “pass muster” with Western “scientific medicine.”
Unfortunately, no one told TCM that it was not real. Empirically, it works very well (better for
some things than others) and is still relied upon by a large percentage of the Mainland, Taiwan,
and the Chinese diaspora populations. To substantiate this, I offer a case in point from my own
experience in the PRC.
In 2009, shortly after I arrived in China, my wife was showing me around downtown
Beijing. I was struck by an old sìhéyuàn (Northern style courtyard house) converted into a series
of shops. Upon entering the central yard, Chao discovered that a traditional doctor kept her office
in the rearmost storefront. She assured me that the “Doctor” was indeed legitimate, and (being
curious about what was involved in a TCM checkup), I agreed to go along. The woman at the
front desk, who turned out to be the doctor, ushered us into a small consulting room, and I was
given an examination which was almost off-putting in its brevity. She first examined my eyes
and the surface of my tongue. She then checked my pulse and pressed on my fingernails. It was
over so quickly that I was positive that we were being fleeced. Fortunately, we were not. She
correctly (and effortlessly) listed six chronic ailments with which I was either currently
struggling, or that I had dealt with at some time prior. Mind you; this was not the usual “cold
read” associated with phony “fortune tellers” and other flim-flam artists. These diagnoses were
precise and detailed. At one point, she identified a problem with arthritic pain in my lumbar
spine (the result of a work injury from years earlier). At another, she correctly diagnosed COPD
from smoking (for which I got a good doctor’s “dressing-down,” as I was still smoking at the
time) even though I was neither coughing nor wheezing. And there were four more of these
diagnoses, all equally accurate. Years later, I am still in awe of her diagnostic skill.
Nor is my experience all that unusual. In a short write-up for Psychology Today titled Six
Things We Can Learn from Eastern Chinese Medicine, Leana Wen M.D. recounts an experience
she had while observing a TCM doctor in action in a Mainland Chinese hospital:

The first TCM practitioner I shadowed explained to me that to practice TCM is to

“listen with your whole body.” Pay attention and use every sense you have, he
said. I watched this doctor as he diagnosed a woman with new-onset cervical
cancer and severe anemia the moment she walked into his exam room, and within

1
The Writings of Han dynasty prefect Liu An, an accomplished Daoist sage who was given the title “Master of
Huáinán.” The work blends Dàojiā (Daoist philosophy), Rújiā (“Scholars philosophy” or Confucianism), and Fǎjiā
(“Law philosophy” or Legalism) views into a comprehensive metaphysics/political philosophy. The work is best
known as one of the first to put forward the idea of Gòngmíng 共鸣 (lit. “resonance” or “sympathetic
response”) or harmonizing all human society with Dao in the same way in which two proportional strings on a lute
resonate with each other. However, it is also an excellent source of myths and legends from early imperial (Han
dynasty) China.
 3

two minutes, without blood tests or CTs, sent her to be admitted to a (Western)
medical service. I’ve seen expert clinicians make remarkable diagnoses, but this
was something else!

“How could you know what you had and that she needed to be admitted?” I
asked.

“I smelled the cervical cancer,” he said. “I looked and saw the anemia. I heard her
speak and I knew she could not care for herself at home.” (I followed her records
in the hospital; he was right on all accounts.) (Wen, psychologytoday.com)

Interestingly, Dr. Wen and I were both initially skeptical of TCM in a general sense. Both of us
had fallen victim to the fallacy that, somehow, our medicine was “evidence-based” and that
theirs was not. Of course, nothing could be farther from the truth – traditional medical systems,
of which TCM is an example, are thoroughly based in empirical reality. Without some empirical
basis, they would have been quickly replaced by something that worked. In the case of TCM,
this empirical evidence takes the form of a four to five-thousand-year old herbal medical
tradition as embodied in such texts as the 神农本草经 Shēnnóng Běncǎo Jìng (Divine Farmer’s
Classic of Herbal Medicine) and the Ming scholar and doctor Lǐ Shízhēn’s 本草纲目 Běncǎo
Gāngmù (Compendium of Herbal Medicine). It also takes the form of manuals of Zhēnjiǔ (lit.
“needles and moxa” – the system that we in the West refer to as acupuncture and moxibustion),
all of which are firmly grounded in practice.

However, not all the writings on TCM deal with practical application. Numerous TCM
classics cover the theory governing the various treatments. Interestingly, modern TCM theory
has its not-so-humble origin in the same cosmology that gave rise to the Chinese branch of the
alchemical tradition and the Zhōuyì. Even in the current iteration of TCM, there is a great deal of
emphasis placed on yin and yang, the wǔxíng, and the concepts of 气 qì (psychophysical
essence) and 易 yì (change/transformation). Part of this is, of course, derived from the overall
influence of the culture. These ideas are part and parcel of even the most modern Chinese
psyche. However, a portion is due (as with Western medicine) to TCM’s origin n the more
esoterically oriented practice of alchemy.

2. The Chinese Alchemical Tradition

Like the alchemists of the Middle Ages and Renaissance, the Chinese practitioners of the
Spagyric2 Art were concerned with two outcomes: the first of these being the transmutation of
metals (specifically the creation of precious metals from base ingredients), and the second and
most important being eternal life. And, just as with their Western counterparts, there were two
approaches applied to the material. The first of these approaches was the exoteric school, known
as 外丹 Wàidān (Wài – outer, and Dān – pill/powder/cinnabar) – the external/chemical approach
to the creation of the elixir of immortality and the transmutation of metals. According to the
2
Spagyric – A term derived from the Latin “spagiricus:” an alchemist. Probably coined by the famous Swiss
physician, magus, and alchemist Paracelsus.
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Wàidān school (as with the Western schools of exoteric alchemy), the processes described in the
various treatises were literal physical processes that simply required proper diligence to replicate.
It was, in effect, proto-chemistry.
The second approach to the tradition was called 内丹 Nèidān (Nèi – inner or internal, and
Dān – pill/powder/cinnabar). According to this school, the transformation of base materials to
gold is a metaphor, and the solution to the problem of immortality is a psychological/mystical
one. This school’s premise that the various alchemical “cookbooks” are carefully worded
allegories that point to psycho-spiritual processes within the individual alchemist is the root of
Qigong and many specifically Chinese forms of meditative practice. As such, the approach of
Nèidān is to treat the texts as descriptions of internal exercises designed to activate or purify
those processes.

2-a. Wàidān – The Outer Tradition

Within the Wàidān tradition, there were two relatively independent schools of thought.
The first was closer to what we would call chemistry. It worked with solvents, minerals, and
refined metals (hence the reference to cinnabar in the Hànyǔ monosyllable “Dān”). The other
worked with the traditional Chinese materia medica. The herbal school gradually merged its
pursuit of longevity via herbal concoctions with orthodox TCM. While it yielded numerous
practical discoveries (among them the development of black powder during the Tang dynasty),
the chemical school was more problematic. Among the most common components listed in the
recipes for the pill/elixir of immortality were cinnabar (a highly toxic mercuric sulfide) and
refined mercury. Per “Master Mo’s elixir method,” a recipe attributed to the philosopher 墨翟
Mò Dí:
Place mercury in a copper vessel with solutions of the five minerals. Heat over
fire, stirring with an iron spoon, for ten days. When it reverts to cinnabar (huan
wei dan), ingest it. A dose of one spatula will dispel any illness from your body;
long term ingestion will render you deathless. (Campany 330)

Considering both ingredients’ toxicity, it goes without saying that this avenue of investigation
was literally a “dead end.” Heavy metal poisoning was common among those trying to concoct a
literal pill or elixir, and the search for immortality usually ended in a slow, painful death.
Interestingly, no less of a personage than 秦始皇 Qín Shǐhuáng, the first emperor of China, most
likely met an untimely end because of ingestion of cinnabar/mercury. In his The History of
China, David Curtis Wright notes that:

After conquering China and unifying it under his rule, Qin Shihuang began to
look for a new challenge. His cruel policies led to many attempts on his life, and
in this he found his next challenge: his own mortality. He wanted to live forever,
and he became obsessed with discovering an elixir of immortality—some
chemical or medicinal compound that would halt or perhaps even somewhat
reverse the aging process in his body. He seems to have hit upon mercury, of all
things, as a possible candidate for this elixir. Ironically, he died in middle age,
possibly as the result of ingesting too much mercury. (Bodily decay does in fact
slow down in persons who have died from mercury poisoning, and this
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observation may have been responsible for his fascination with mercury as a
possible elixir of immortality.) (Wright 49)

One can easily see why the practice of Wàidān ended up a footnote in the long narrative of
Chinese esoteric practice. The unpleasant fact that the tradition’s methods resulted in a too high
incidence of death by poisoning was not lost on prospective students. The practice of external
alchemy eventually faded into historical obscurity.

2-b. The Inner Tradition – Nèidān and the Practice of Qìgōng

However, the demise of the external school was not the end of the mythic narrative that is
Chinese alchemy. As in the West, there had always been a school of thought that held that the
texts, such as the 太乙金华宗旨 Tàiyǐ Jīnhuá Zōngzhǐ (The Secrets of the Golden Flower), were
manuals detailing psychological and spiritual processes. As written, the alchemical formulae
were symbolic descriptions of both physical and internal (meditative) exercises. These, if
practiced correctly, allowed the practitioner to achieve psycho-spiritual wholeness (for which the
transmutation of metals was a metaphor), an extended lifespan, and eventual spiritual ascension
and immortality. This alchemical tradition is still practiced by various groups (Daoist sects and
multiple schools of traditional Chinese martial arts), who still refer to it as Nèidān, or as Nèigōng
(inner work).

These physical routines and meditative practices form a sizable chunk of the material at
the core of the set of exercise/meditation systems which fall under the heading of 气功 Qìgōng
(lit. qì work). In a general sense, Qìgōng consists of a series of slow movements and stretching.
It is further divided into tension/release based physical exercises ( known as 动功 dònggōng or
“movement work” –the Yang, physical, active aspect), and sitting meditation with breathing
exercises (generally termed 靜功 jìnggōng or “tranquil work” –the Yin, passive, contemplative
aspect). These exercise strategies and meditations are both designed to stimulate the flow of qì
through the body, and, when combined, are a way of extending one’s life and safeguarding one’s
health. Shīfù Wu Zhongxian describes the purpose of qìgōng in the third chapter of his book Fire
Dragon Meridian Qigong: Essential Neigong for Health and Spiritual Transformation:

The modern, popularized Qigong refers to a traditional Chinese way of life –

living in health and harmony with community and nature through physical,
mental, and Shen (spiritual) cultivation. At its essence, Qigong is a method of Qi
cultivation that has been used for thousands of years. Qi cultivation brings about a
deep inner awareness and creates the foundation for health and a state of
conscious being that allows you to experience a state of inner peace in your life,
shifting and transforming turbulent emotional states with ease. (Wu, 31)
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He goes on to analyze the simple characters3 which make up the character gōng 功. The first part
of the compound is gōng 工. In this context, gōng means work, skill, or craft. The basis of this
radical is an architect’s or carpenter’s square—a tool by which symmetry and regularity of form
are maintained. The meaning of the second radical, Lì 力, is strength, power, force, or ability.
Initially, the character meant a tendon and implied physical exertion and giving one’s all. As
such, gōng 功 implies “work” in the sense of the combination of effort and mastery exhibited by
a skilled craftsman or martial artist, rather than simple labor or expenditure of energy4. (Wu, 32)

As with any system as old and widely practiced as Nèigōng/Qìgōng, there are multiple
forms/schools, each with its focus (for example, 八段锦 Bāduànjǐn -- Eight Pieces of Brocade, or
火龙 Huǒlóng -- Fire Dragon, etc.). Eight Pieces of Brocade excels at focusing qi to strengthen
the physical body, much like contemporary Hatha yoga. Conversely, Fire Dragon qìgōng is a
step in a much more esoteric direction: It works with the “Middle Burner”5 to transform 精 Jīng
(essential life-force) into 精神 Jīngshén (spiritual power or energy). There are also forms which
are only taught within families, or to qualified initiates, which promise even more significant
spiritual elevation and eventual union with Dao.

This practice of Inner Alchemy has also had an impact on the “inner” martial arts such as
太极拳 Tàijíquán (lit. Way of Heaven Fist) and 八卦掌 Bāguàzhǎng (lit. Eight Trigram Palm),
as well as the more aggressive outer “fighting” forms of 武术 Wǔshù6. Chinese tradition has it
that Bodhidharma (Chinese 达摩 Dámó), The Indian Buddhist monk who is considered the First
Patriarch of Chan Buddhism, was one of the first to translate Nèidān/Qìgōng into a form of
exercise. Per the account in the 易筋经 Yìjīnjīng (lit. Muscle/Tendon Change Classic -- a manual
of Qigong like exercises), he combined his knowledge of yoga and Buddhist mental discipline
with ideas and practices he had learned during his time in China. The material that became the
Yìjīnjīng served as the foundation for the exercise program which he developed for the horribly
out of shape monks of the (then) obscure little monastery/temple complex known as 少林寺
Shàolín Sì. These exercises evolved into the exercise/fighting form 八十罗汉拳 Bāshí Luóhàn
Quán or Eighteen Arhat Fist, and, from this, into the other forms of Shàolín 功夫 gōngfú7.

3
Many Hànzì characters are, in fact, compound characters made from two or more simple ideograms called
radicals and components. Often, the subtle meaning of these compound characters is best ferreted out by
analyzing these and the way in which they combine.
4
Interestingly, Shīfù Wu translates gōng, in the context of qìgōng, as “cultivation” rather than work.
5
Middle Burner (Zhōng Lú 中炉), is both the mid-section of the abdominal cavity, and a part of the psycho-spiritual
organ associated with the balance of qì in the body. In this case, however, it appears to have been conflated with
the zhōng dāntián (more on the three dāntián in footnote 7 beginning on page 10).
6
The term Wǔshù (lit. Military Arts) is of modern origin – It was first used during the Republic of China as an
attempt to bring some semblance of order to the hundreds of schools and family forms which comprise Chinese
martial arts.
7
Gōngfú (lit. skill or mastery), anglicized as Kung Fu, is the most widely recognized term for the Chinese martial
arts. As with Wǔshù, this term covers hundreds of different schools and fighting forms. Among the more famous
are the Wǔdāngshān 武当山 and Éméishān 峨眉山 schools, both of which are associated with Daoism. However,
thanks in large part to the 1970s T.V. Series Kung Fu, and martial arts movies from Hong Kong, it is most commonly
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When one watches performances of Qìgōng or Tàijí, or sits down to watch a gōngfú
movie, what is being done looks deceptively easy. For a master of any of these forms, the
practice has become so second nature that it is as easy as breathing or walking. There is,
however, an additional illusion of effortlessness stemming from the fluid movements that
characterize these systems. It is hard to imagine something so smooth and sweeping being
difficult. However, while they look deceptively simple from the sidelines, they are strenuous
exercise. Having done several years of gōngfú in my teens and having taken a semester of
Tàijíquán during my time at the University of New Mexico, I should have known that Bāduànjǐn
Qìgōng was going to be work. My wife and I had been looking for an exercise program and had
found Qìgōng offered through the local Senior Citizens Center. Being thoroughly out of shape,
this seemed ideal – how strenuous could a low impact exercise program for seniors possibly be?
Chao just smiled and kept her own counsel. When I left the first session, every part of my body
hurt. Interestingly, as I learned to let go, the pain and stiffness started to taper off, and it became
easier to concentrate on the inwardly focused aspect of the practice.

As with the older variants of Hatha Yoga, one of Qigong’s fundamentals is training the
breath. One starts by learning to breathe from Xià Dāntián 下丹田8 (what we call diaphragm
breathing) and advances through learning to synch the breath with one’s body movements. To do
this, one breathes in through the nose and out through the mouth. When inhaling, one visualizes
drawing in air and raw 清 “qīng” (lit. clear, clean, or pure) qì, and expelling stale or 邪 “xié” (lit.
evil or unwholesome) qì on exhale. One should also inhale deeply, from the diaphragm rather
than from the upper lungs, imaginally cycling the inhaled qì into Xià Dāntián. Per the Daoist
sage Zhuangzi, in the section titled “The Great and Venerable Teacher”:

The True Man [9] of ancient times slept without dreaming and woke without care;
he ate without savoring and his breath came from deep inside. The True Man

associated with the various styles of 少林拳 Shàolínquán (lit. Shaolin Fist – the fighting forms originally taught at
the Shàolín monastery).
8
丹田 Dāntián (Elixir Field or Cinnabar Field) is a term from both Nèidān and TCM that can refer either to one, or
to all of three, of a group of centers within the human body which store qì, or psycho-physical energy. By itself,
the term is generally used to refer to 下丹田 Xià Dāntián (Lower Dāntián), which is located below the navel. The
other two centers are called 中丹田 Zhōng Dāntián (middle or center dāntián), which is found in the center of the
body close to the heart; and 上丹田 Shàng Dāntián (upper or high dāntián), found in the forehead, respectively.
Each of these centers of psycho-physical force is devoted to a different stage of the transmutation of essence into
emptiness and mortal nature into immortality (hence the reference to cinnabar from Wàidān). Xià Dāntián
concentrates qì as jīng (life force). Zhōng Dāntián refines jīng into shén (mind/spirit). Finally, Shàng Dāntián refines
shén into 精神空虚 jīngshénkōngxū (Spiritual Emptiness, which is synonymous with immortality).
9
真人 Zhēnrén (lit. “true” or “real” person), the term which is somewhat misleadingly translated here as “True
Man,” is primarily a Daoist descriptor for a person who has attained enlightenment or immortality (within the
scope of Dàojiào the two are synonymous). I say misleadingly translated as: 1) in Chinese grammar, the noun 人
rén is neuter and means “person” or “human being” in a general sense. It is only gendered by adding a particle,
either 男 nán (male) or 女 nǔ (female), resulting in either 男人 nánrén (man) or 女人 nǔrén (woman). Zhēnrén is
not gendered in this fashion and can refer to a member of either sex. And 2), in this context the term 真 zhēn is
not used in the usual sense of honesty or integrity but rather in a broader, more cosmological, context. Its usage is,
in fact, the same as its usage in name of the 全真 Quánzhēn school of Daoism. Chinese, like English, is a heavily
contextual language. A contextual reading of Quánzhēn translates as 全 quán (which literally means “all”) as
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breathes with his heels; the mass of men breathes with their throats. [italics mine]
(Zhuangzi 74)

The movements in the seated form of Bāduànjǐn are a combination of stretches and tension and
release exercises. Combined with dāntián breathing (what Zhuangzi refers to in the above quote
as breathing from one’s feet/heels) and visualization, these exercises work to both transform qì
into jīng through inner alchemical processes and to circulate jīng throughout the body, thereby
promoting health and overall wellbeing.

As with much of TCM, I was initially skeptical of the efficacy of this sort of practice.
Too many years (40 to be exact) of dealing with the combination of genuine Illumination and
blatant delusion that makes up the American “occult” community can leave one a bit jaded
around the edges. Luckily, with TCM and Nèigōng, this skepticism was not to last – as with
traditional yogic practice, there are quasi-immediate benefits and long-term improvements that
cannot be written off as the result of physiological processes alone. For example, when I began
the practice, I was inordinately susceptible to cold (to the point that I hated even Southern New
Mexico winter with a passion). However, after five months of practice, my tolerance to cold had
improved to the point that I could walk outside for extended periods, in temperatures close to
freezing, in long pants and a long-sleeved fleece shirt (no jacket, and certainly no gloves and
hat). Per TCM, this is due to the improved concentration of Jīng in the body, and the resulting
enhanced circulation of 血 Xuè (lit. “blood,” referring to biological tissue and, per TCM theory,
the physical part of the life force). This leads us to the technical language and metaphysical
underpinnings of TCM.

3. The Longevity of Chinese Medical Practice

From my experience in the field (both as an interviewer and as a client of three separate
TCM physicians), this holistic understanding of TCM is part of what makes the system workable
in the 21st century. All cultures (including the cultures of Europe) have, at some point, worked
from aboriginal medical practices. Within the various European national cultures, these systems
have survived to some degree as herb lore and “folk medicine.” These are not, however,
complete survivals. Many of the core ideas simply eroded over time, supplanted by modern
allopathic medical theory. What makes TCM (and a few other indigenous systems) special is that
it is complete, and (relatively speaking) intact. It has learned from Western allopathy in that it
has adopted some Western medical ideas and most of allopathy’s diagnostic technology.
However, it has kept both its distinct metaphysical references and its unique method of treating
the whole person.
This adaptability has made it incredibly successful both on the Mainland and in the
diaspora community. So much so that, for many Chinese (both Mainland and Taiwanese, and
“ethnic Chinese”10 living in other countries), traditional treatments remain the primary means of

“total” or “complete”, and 真 zhēn (lit. “true”) as “universal truth” or Reality with a capital “R.” As such, scholars
usually translate Quánzhēn (lit. “all true”) as “Complete Reality.” Given the two previously stated points, it makes
better sense to translate the term Zhēnrén literally as “Truth-Person,” and figuratively using the more descriptive
“sage(s)” or “wise one(s)”
10
Within the traditional Chinese worldview, ethnicity is more than a simplistic set of cultural habits and traditions.
For them, ethnicity is a matter of “blood” or common heredity. It is a sort of extended family. One is Chinese
because one was born Chinese, and one follows Chinese culture because one is of Chinese descent. Ethnic Chinese
 9

dealing with illness. Among both Mainland Chinese and members of the diaspora community, it
has remained in operation for the last 200 years without being successfully “debunked” (or, for
that matter, sidelined as a “complimentary” practice). The Chinese use Western medicine but
consider it a collection of extreme measures for use in life-threatening situations.
This preference for traditional healing modalities transcends social class and educational
level. As a case in point, my wife Chao (who is well educated and very much a child of the
newly minted Chinese middle class) refuses what she calls “chemical medicine” in all but the
most extreme cases. This is also the case with her sister and my mother in law. This preference
seems to be the case for all age groups. Even the young people (who are much more accustomed
to dealing with all things Western) prefer a combination approach to medical treatment that is
heavier on TCM methods than Western medicine.
Per the proselytes of all things Western and “scientific,” some of this is possibly driven
by the Communist “information bubble” (at least in the Peoples Republic of China). The Chinese
are understandably proud of their culture and the achievements of their civilization.
Unfortunately, this pride plays into the control strategy of the CCP. As with divination and the
Zhōuyì, however, this argument fails to explain TCM’s popularity outside of the PRC. While
residents of the Mainland might have been subjected to effective brainwashing in the name of
“Social Harmony,” the same is not true of Taiwan or most nations hosting the Chinese diaspora
community. Here in the United States, in cities with large ethnic Chinese populations, there is an
underground network of traditional doctors operating out of Chinese herbal pharmacies. In most
states, this constitutes the practice of medicine without a license. A traditional Chinese Doctor I
interviewed in Los Angeles refused to consent to have his name used in the dissertation because
he feared repercussions from the state government. Even so, here (as in Taiwan and elsewhere),
the use of TCM is an informed choice made with full awareness of the alternatives. The reason
for this choice, even in the face of social pressure to the contrary, is, from personal observation
and experience, purely practical. The rationale for the longevity of TCM is like that for the
survival of divination (and magic in general)—these practices yield tangible empirical results for
their practitioners.

2. Relationship, Wholeness, and The Body

As noted earlier, we in the industrialized West have developed an unfortunate cultural
preference for focusing almost exclusively on individual phenomena. The result of this atomized
focus is an overemphasis on quantitative attributes over qualitative ones. Since the
Enlightenment, only those entities and relationships that are expressible in numeric form and
easily plugged into mathematical equations have been considered knowable in an objective
sense. Qualitative relationships and entities, those concerned with an essential character or
relationships outside of linear causality, termed “secondary” attributes, are viewed as
unimportant and excluded altogether. Emphasis on parts and pieces and an “eight-ball-in-the-
corner-pocket” interpretation of causation led to the reimagining of the universe as a gigantic
machine. The world was a titan watch, either with or without a Watchmaker. These
developments steered our cultural interpretation of “science” toward an increasingly atomized

are Chinese migrants who have maintained a moderate to strong tie to this traditional view of culture as both
biological and intangible inheritance, and who have cultivated a tightly knit ethnic subculture within their country
of residence. They are also referred to in this dissertation as Traditional Chinese.
 10

rendering of the natural order, which further displaced the sciences from human experience, and
from the Lebenswelt (lit. “living world” or “life-world”) into a ream of mathematical abstraction.
It could be said that the world transforms itself into the images, metaphors, and analogies
imposed upon it. It becomes, in a sense, what we imagine it to be. Such is the nature of myth.
There is no denying the success of the scientific method or the philosophical success of
Cartesianism. Inquiry into the nature of “things,” and the processes that operate behind visible
phenomena have significantly broadened our understanding of the world. It is, however, only a
partial understanding. There are genuine phenomena that do not lend themselves to mathematical
description and mechanical observation. The embrace of Cartesian dualism and materialist
philosophy has caused science to cut itself off from half of the world it claims want to
understand.
Nowhere is this more obvious than in the more negative symptoms of a society far too
dependent on the doctrines of materialism and dogmatic scientism.11 On the macroscopic scale,
we have anthropogenic climate change, overpopulation, resource depletion, despeciation, and an
increasingly toxic environment. At the microcosmic level, we have the loss of unique cultures,
the dissolution of communities, self-imposed isolation, and wholesale individual depression and
anxiety. The focus on mechanism/materialism has broken more than it has fixed.
Nowhere is this truer than with our current allopathic understanding of the human body.
From this perspective, we humans appear to be made up of many individual organ systems, these
organs of very specialized tissues, and the tissues of individual cells. After the fashion of an
internal combustion engine, we are a collection of machines, each an isolated part of a more
massive machine. In older versions of the model, this motley collection of gears and pulleys was
“driven around” by a mind or spirit. Again, a separate entity. In its current iteration, however,
even “mind” and “spirit” are reduced to products of neural tissue and chemical reactions. In the
end, there is nothing but the parts and the few relationships which are quantifiable.
On the other hand, TCM’s worldview posits our shared mind/body/world reality as a
complete psychophysical system that is very much alive and purposive. The cosmology (and
hence the physiology) of TCM follows the old Chinese axiom of 天人合一 Tiān Rén Hé Yī

11
Dogmatic scientism, or simply scientism, is not the “science” with which it likes to associate itself. It is, in fact, a
quasi-religious narrative operating primarily within Western culture and those systems heavily influenced by
Western culture, which places its emphasis on a heavily mythologized vision of “science” and “reason.” As a social
phenomenon, this narrative is an attempt to retain some sense of certainty and centrality of place for humanity by
substituting science and human effort in the place vacated by the apparent collapse of Western religious tradition.
 11

Fig 4.1 calligraphic representation of 天人合一 Tiān Rén Hé Yī

(Fig. 4.1): “Heaven (which, as was noted in the preceding chapter includes both the Divine
reality and the Natural order) and Humankind are one” (fig 4.1, following page). The most used
name for this oneness in Chinese is Dào 道. Dào is sometimes likened to a great organism, with
all the myriad things and the relationships between them acting as cells and organs. Like this
macrocosmic organism, the human person (or any other life form, for that matter) is a continuum
formed of a nested hierarchy not only of cells, tissues, and organs but also of subtle forces and
relationships. Like the world, each person is a pattern composed of unseen forces and physical
systems, both in partnership with and in a state of constant dynamic tension with each other. This
negotiation does not end at one’s skin: Physical conditions and mind/soul states both engage in a
feedback loop of influence on the external world (what C.G. Jung called Synchronicity). Most
importantly, each of these inner and outer elements is (ideally) in balance with all the others.
This ever-shifting dance of connections, in turn, forms the fundamental basis for mental and
physical health, and the origin of diseases and physical disorders.

Practitioners of TCM view the body through the lens of these complex relationships – an
intricate microcosmic image of macrocosmic patterns and forces. In the introduction to his
meticulous translation of, and commentary on, the Huángdì Nèijīng, The Yellow Emperor’s
Classic of Medicine, Professor Ni Maoshing states that:

The Neijing of the Yellow Emperor is one of the most important classics of
Taoism. First, it gives a holistic picture of human life. It does not separate
external changes – geographic, climatic, and seasonal, for instance – from internal
changes such as emotions and our responses to them. It tells how our way of life
and our environment effect our health. Without going into fine detail, the Neijing
articulates a treasure of ancient knowledge concerning the natural way to health,
implying that all phenomena of the world stimulate, tonify, subdue, or depress,
one’s natural life force. This holistic life philosophy of the ancient developed ones
represents the basic tenets of the Integral Way – a life lived in harmony with the
universal law…
 12

The environment, the way of life, and the spirit all contribute to the quality of
human existence. The essence of the Neijing can be summed up in the following
passage: Health and wellbeing can be achieved only by remaining centered in
spirit, guarding against the squandering of energy, promoting the constant flow of
qi and blood, maintaining harmonious balance of Yin and Yang, adapting to the
changing seasonal and yearly macrocosmic influences, and nourishing one’s self
preventively. This is the way to a long and happy life.” (Ni, xiii)

Note the movement from inner to outer, and back. Within this short excerpt, both the whole
person and the environment in which that person lives are dealt with – both discretely (as
separate processes) and in relation to the other. The second paragraph begins by centering the
individual in spirit (神 shén), which consists of both life force (精 jīng) and will/mental focus (意
yì). Centering in shén prevents squandering one’s jīng through a loss of yì and the self-
destructive behaviors that result. It says that one should also preserve the flow of 气 qì and 血
xuè (lit. blood)12 and support the whole psychophysical person in a condition of harmonious
balance of Yin and Yang. Finally, just as the ideas expressed in the Zhōuyì are built into the
landscape through fēngshuǐ, outside influences are firmly integrated into the system through the
admonition to “adapt to seasonal and yearly macrocosmic influences” (Ni, xiii) and mind the
nutritional value and purity of the food that one consumes. Some of these ideas (the impact of
diet on overall health, for example) have found acceptance in the allopathic cannon. Others, such
as the influence of one’s emotional state on one’s physical health, are making inroads into
current medical thinking. However, TCM’s essentialist and vitalist13 approach to both the
individual and the world is still a long way from making the cover of the Journal of the American
Medical Association.

3. Traditional Chinese Medicine in Theory and Practice: Qì, Shén, and Pathogenesis
Beijing is a beautiful city that could give any city in Europe or the U.S. a run for its
money. Aside from its 2100-year history and numerous Imperial monuments, it boasts world-
class museums, eateries, and concert halls. And, like any large city, it also boasts a world-class
smog problem. Enter my first experience with a modern Chinese TCM doctor. I had been in
Beijing for three months and between the nasal congestion and the cough caused by constant
drainage (both caused by Beijing’s severe air pollution problem), I was living on Tylenol Severe
Allergy and Cold Formula. I was not a happy camper. Chao was, of course, worried about my
“overuse of Western medicine,” and offered to take me to the hospital close to our apartment to
see a doctor who specialized in TCM. I am not entirely sure what I expected from my first visit
to an actual medical doctor specializing in TCM. The traditional doctor who I had consulted
earlier that summer had learned medicine through her family tradition and had used the
vocabulary of a 医生 “yī shēng” (lit. “birthing and curing” or “delivering children and treating
illness,” a traditional Chinese doctor). Of course, the Western-educated scholar in me felt more
comfortable with someone with a M.D. after his/her name, but I was still uncertain.
The doctor with whom I had my consultation was a pleasant man with excellent English
skills. After the usual short TCM exam (he checked my pulse and looked at my tongue and
12
xuè is a subtle medium associated with literal blood which carries jīng through the body.
13
TCM works from the traditional Chinese view that Qi is both the foundation of all matter, and a quickening
essence or élan vital. QI, and its flow through the body, is therefore the core principle with which TCM works.
 13

eyes), he had a diagnosis – my upper respiratory problems were the ultimate result of a
deficiency of Yin. I was shocked. This was the same overall diagnosis that the family-traditional
doctor had given. He asked if I understood the concept of Yin and Yang, as Westerners tend to
misunderstand the reality behind the popular image. He went on to explain that Yin and Yang are
not “energy.” Like qì, they are far more primal than either energy or matter. At its most basic,
qì14 is the psychophysical reality that is the ground for all material phenomena. This pre-material
substance is similar in function to the primal χάος (Cháos) of the ancient Greeks, or the Azoth
(Primal Mercury) of Medieval and Renaissance alchemy, or the Quantum of modern physics, for
that matter.
If qì as primal Chaos is the fundamental nature of reality, Yin and Yang are the
primordial opposites that define its manifestations. While this pair is arbitrarily assigned by
Western popular literature as sex/gender attributes (the first thing that most people think of when
they hear “Yin” and “Yang” is the male/female binary), within Chinese thought, these sexual
assignments are secondary traits. The simplified ideogram for 阳 Yáng is comprised of 阝 yì
(place or hill) and 日 rì (sun) and implies daytime or the sunny side of a mountain. Likewise, the
ideogram for 阴 Yīn is, again, composed of 阝 yì (place or hill), but is this time combined with
yuè 月 (moon)—It implies nighttime or the shady side of a mountain. Yang is bright, aggressive,
and expansive. Yin is, by contrast, dark, passive, and inward-focused. However, neither of the
two is a pure force. As with the famous 太极图 Tàijítú15 diagram, each revolves around the

Fig. 4.2 The Tàijítú or Diagram of the Supreme Ultimate

14
The Hànzì character 气 Qì (traditional 氣) has multiple meanings, only three of which (vapor or gas, life force,
and primal substance) have any bearing on this work. Vapor is a metaphor for something which, in its pure form, is
beyond opposites. It is both hard to see/invisible, and infinitely mutable. It also, like water vapor, condenses into a
visible form, creating visible physical matter. However, there is more to qi than physical substance. There is also a
sustaining and nurturing element to qi. The traditional ideogram 氣 (which is most commonly used both for primal
qi and for life force), combines the radical mǐ 米 (rice) with qì 气 (gas or vapor—literally the steam rising from
cooking rice) calling attention to this combination of mutable and nutritive/sustaining qualities.
15
As noted in the previous chapter, the Tàijítú (lit. Diagram of the Supreme Ultimate) is a symbolic representation
of the cosmos as relationship of Yīn and Yáng (both as individual forces and as complimentary aspects of Dào).
When presented with the Bāguà, it is also a representation of mìngyùn, or “fate” as a combination of the possible
permutations of Yì or change.
 14

other, and both contain elements of the other. These primal opposites lay the groundwork for all
the lesser dyads which make up the world-at-large. Positive and negative, male and female,
material and spiritual, and so forth, all have their cause in the primal dyad of Yīn and Yáng.
When qì (which, in its natural state, is ineffable psychophysical “is-ness” after the
fashion of the Quantum of modern physics) manifests as physical reality, it conforms to this
cosmic duality by becoming either yīn qì or yáng qì. Yang qi, like primal Yang, is bright, hot,
assertive, and expansive. Called 清 qīng16 (clear) qì in TCM, it is not only the raw stuff of the
physical world around us but is associated with health and long life. This qīng qì is the élan vital
or “essence of life” which is worked with in qìgōng. It is also wèi qì, the qì, which protects the
mind/body/spirit complex from infection by disease. Yin qi, like Primal Yin, is dark, passive,
damp, and contractive. This form of qi makes up the invisible otherworld of spirits and ghosts. It
is also the origin of what is termed 邪 “xié” qì in TCM.
邪 Xié (lit. evil or malevolent) refers in this case to a broad range of disease-causing qì-
patterns. This is not to say that Yang is equal to good and Yin to evil, nor Yang to health and Yin
to disease. Both are required for the proper function of the person. A deficiency or excess of
either can lead to illness and death. This does say that Yin, on one level, corresponds to
destruction, decay, and death, as over and against Yang’s birth, generation, and life. In effect, for
TCM, they are more comparable to the dyad of Eros and Thanatos in Depth Psychology as they
are to the Abrahamic God and the Devil. Looked at in this way, the idea of Yin qi as the origin of
xié qì makes sense insofar as it makes sense that an imbalance in favor of Thanatos (the psycho-
spiritual force related to the natural process of death and decay) is not suitable for one’s overall
health. An excess of Eros’ energies (the psycho-spiritual energies associated with life and
creation) could be detrimental as well, as Thanatos is the force that “hollows out” psychological
space and allows room for growth. Too much of anything, even a good thing, is too much -- the
opposites must be kept carefully balanced. The Huángdì Nèijīng notes that:

Huang Di said, “the law of Yin and Yang is the natural order of the universe, the
foundation of all things, mother of all changes, the root of life and death. In healing, one
must grasp the root of the disharmony, which is always subject to the law of Yin and
Yang.
“In the universe, the pure yang qi ascends to converge and form heaven, while the
turbid yin qi descends and condenses to form the earth. Yin is passive and quiet, while
the nature of Yang is active and noisy. Yang is responsible for expanding and Yin is
responsible to contracting, becoming astringent, and consolidating. Yang is the energy,
the vital force, the potential, while Yin is the substance, the foundation, the mother that
gives rise to all this potential. (Ni, 17)

Beyond the initial separation of primal qì into yin and yang qì, TCM makes several further
divisions based on the stage of conversion of raw qì (qì from food, air, and water) into a usable
form, its function within the psychophysical continuum, or both. Listed below are several of the
more common forms of qì encountered in TCM theory. This is not, however, intended as an

16
The character 清 qīng is composed of the radical shuǐ 氵(water) and 青 qīng (natural color, green or blue, young).
It implies clear, “young” or “living,” fast moving water, as opposed to cloudy, stagnant water. Hence its association
with health and vitality.

exhaustive list. There are undoubtedly names for specialized forms of qì which have been left
out. It does, however, convey something of the complexity of the concept of qì and its medical
applications. (Fig. 4.3)
元气 Yuán Qì (Primary or First Qì, also
referred to in English as Ancestral Qì or
Original Qì)
骨气 Gu Qì (Bone or Food Qì), also called Bone or Food Qì is the qi latent in food
精微 Jīng Wēi (tiny essence).
中气 Zhōng Qì (Central or Middle Qì)
15
 Yuan Qì is a combination of qì
inherited from both parents. It is
fixed in amount – it cannot be
added to, only conserved. Its source
is in Xià Dāntián (Lower Dāntián)
 As a sort of “archetypal qì,” it is
both a template for the structure of
the body and the driving force
behind the proper functioning of
the internal organs.
 It cycles through the three Dāntián
and circulates freely via the
meridians.
 It is the raw material on which
Jing, or essence, is based.
 It is catalytic, sparking the change
of Zōng Qì into Zhen Qì (which is
the form of qì utilized by the body),
and transforming Gu Qì (food qì)
into Xuè (blood complex).
and drink. All foods have a certain quality
of qì based on Yin and Yang and the
Wǔxíng (Five Agents). TCM (and Chinese
culture at large) believes that everything
we eat and drink is potential medicine or
potential poison (depending on the
context). A good deal of initial TCM
treatment is self-treatment through
adjustment of diet. One simply finds the
foods which hold the qì qualities that either
tonify (strengthen) a trait, balance
competing traits, or dispel a specific sort of
xié qì.
The first stage in the transformation of
Food Qì into qì that can be used by the
body/mind/spirit involves the “middle
burner.” The middle burner organs (the
stomach and Spleen) digest the food into

营气 Yíng Qì (Constructive or
Nourishing Qì) -- Yin
卫气 Wèi Qì (Defensive Qì) --
Yang
总气 Zǒng Qì (Gathering Qì)
16
both usable physical nutrients and the
beginnings of usable qì. This usable qì
manifests in the Yin/Yang dyad of Ying Qì
and Wèi Qì.
The qì in food is converted into the “life-
force” component of blood. This is paired
with “bodily fluids” (visible blood) to
make up xuè (the blood complex)
Ying Qì travels within the circulatory
system (as it is a part of xuè) and through
the meridians. It feeds and sustains the
internal organs and the tissues (skin, bone,
muscle, etc.). Being a form of yin qì, it
also moistens the organs and tissues and
keeps them flexible.
Wei Qi is the qì in food that powers the
psycho-spiritual part of the immune
system. It travels both within the meridians
and outside of them between the skin and
muscles.
Defensive qì has three functions:
 As its name suggests, it protects the
body from the intrusion of
pathogenic (xié) qi.
 It works to figuratively “moisten”
skin and muscle tissue (it keeps
them flexible) and controls the
pores’ action.
 As the lungs control Wei Qi, it is
also considered essential in the
circulation of fluids to the skin and
muscles.
Zǒng Qì, also called Gathering Qì, refers
to the final refinement of food qì. This
distillation takes place in the lungs and
heart, with the lungs first combining both
forms of Zhōng Qì with Qīng Qì from the
air and Yuán Qì as Jīng, to create both
Zhēn Qì and Xuè. Zǒng Qì has the
following functions:
 17

 Maintains the health of the heart

and lungs and regulates pulse and
respiration.
 Supports the lungs in controlling
the flow of qì and the heart in
regulating blood circulation.
 Influences speech (regulated by
the heart) and the voice (controlled
by the lungs).
 Zǒng Qì and Yuán Qì reinforce
each other -- Zǒng Qì flows down
and assists kidney function, and
Yuán Qì flows up to assist in the
production of Zhēn Qì.

真气 Zhēn Qì (True Qì) Zhen Qi is a specifically Daoist medical

term. It is somewhat ambiguous, as there is
disagreement in the source material as to
whether it refers to the final product of the
transformation of Food Qì into Yíng and
Wèi Qì or is used as a synonym of Zheng
Qì. My experience with both the popular
and scholarly interpretations of TCM
points me in the direction of “the final
product of transformation.”

正气 Zhēng Qì (Upright or Positive Qì) This is a broad appellation for all forms of
positive qì, including those listed in this
table.

血 Xuè (Blood) A broad term that can be applied to mean

either blood as a biological tissue of the
body or the “blood complex” of yíng qì
(the subtle aspect of blood) and the
biological blood tissue.
Fig. 4.3 Table of TCM terms associated with qì. Table by author

Within the framework of TCM, the functioning of the “subtle body” or “energy body”
(that part of the person comprised of jīng, qì, xuè as blood complex, and other factors) is as
important as the physical body composed of organs and tissues. This is equally true for the spirit.
The concept of 神 shén (spirit, god, soul”) in TCM (and in Chinese esotericism in general) is
roughly approximate to its Western cousin. It is that part of us that makes us unique human
beings. “Spirit” is our intelligence, our will, our emotions and creativity, and something more
than all of them together. However, it is also different from the Western framework is some
significant ways. In the Abrahamic tradition, the soul is generally seen as one discreet “thing.” It
 18

is the indivisible sum-total of the person. While it may have attributes, these are in no way
separate from the whole.
This is not entirely the case with 神 shén. There have been many interpretations of this
concept, covering different periods of Chinese history. During the initial development of what
we know as Chinese culture (the Shāng and Zhōu dynasties), and probably much earlier, shén
was assumed to be the relationship between the hún and pò souls. The hún soul was celestial and
immortal, but not personal. The pò soul was, conversely, personal but not eternal. Later, after the
introduction of Buddhism to China during the late Han dynasty (206 BCE to 220 BCE), the (by
then) multiple aspects were unified under a single heading and given something of a fixed form.
As such, within the scope of current Chinese exotericism, while one thing appears to break apart
into several things (five, to be exact), the concept of shén is no less unified than its western
counterpart. What is different is the emphasis on the fragmentation of the contents of this unified
reality. This is also the case with the “body gods” of the Tàiyǐ Jīnhuá Zōngzhǐ. In both cases,
health and longevity are achieved by coaxing disparate (and sometimes conflicting) elements
within the psyche into a state of harmony.
This is similar in many respects to the ideas expressed in C.G. Jung’s writings. Many of
Jung’s ideas are a direct result of his studies in Indian in Chinese philosophy. On the matter of
spirit and the fragmented contents of the Self, he notes in his commentary on Wilhelm’s
translation of the Secrets of the Golden Flower that:
China could not dispense with them because, as the history of Chinese philosophy
shows, it has never gone so far from central psychic facts as to lose itself in a one-sided
over-development and over-valuation of a single
psychic function. Therefore, the Chinese have never failed to recognize the paradoxes
and the polarity inherent in all life. The opposites always balance on the scales — a
sign of high culture. (Jung, Commentary, 81-82)
And later:
Quite obviously, the Chinese owes the finding of this path, to the fact that he has never
been led to force the pairs of opposites of human nature so far apart that all conscious
connection between them was lost. The Chinese has this inclusive orientation because,
as in the case of primitive mentality, the yea and the nay have remained in their original
proximity (Jung, 85-86)
As far as Jung was concerned, Western culture’s primary problem was its over-reliance on
rationality and intellect. It was from this imbalance (the misidentification of spirit/soul with
conscious ego and intelligence) that the apparent unitary nature of spirit arose. The contents of
the Self (the larger person, which holds not only the ego but also the contents of both the
personal and collective unconscious) are initially fragmented. It is the job of the individuant to
bring these conflicting aspects into both a harmonious relationship with each other and to realize
that their nature is not autonomous, that they are aspects of the Self.
This is still true in modern TCM. There is no attempt to gloss over the various aspects of
spirit, referred to in a general sense as 神 shén. Shén is composed of five components, each
corresponding with one of the Wǔxíng, and with one of the Zhang (solid) organs. On the facing
page is a chart listing the Wǔ Shén (the five aspects of spirit), their correspondence to the
Wǔxíng and zhàng (Yin) organs, and their closest Western analog. (fig. 4.4)
 19

五神 Wǔ Shén -- The Five Spiritual Principles

Chinese concept Wǔxíng and Zàng (Solid) Western Analog
Organ
神 Shén – Spirit 火 Huǒ – Fire The whole psycho-spiritual
心 Xīn -- Heart person. The Atman. The
Jungian “Self.”
魂 Hún – Cloud Soul 木 Mù – Tree/Wood Aristotelian rational soul.
(Yang Essence) 肝 Gān -- Liver
魄 Pò -- White Soul (Yin 金 Jīn -- Gold/Metal Aristotelian animal and
Essence) 肺 Fèi -- Lungs vital souls. The personal
unconscious.
意 Yì – Thought 土 Tǔ – Soil/Earth The thinking, individual
脾 Pí -- Spleen ego.
智 Zhì – Wisdom/Will 水 Shuǐ – Water Schopenhauer’s and
肾 Shèn -- Kidneys Crowley’s “Will.” The
collective unconscious
contents of the “Self.”
Fig. 4.4 Parts of the Soul/Spirit with Analogous Western Concepts. Table by author
Note that hún has its seat in the heart. In the medieval Western medical tradition, the
heart was also the seat of the soul. However, as noted in a prior paragraph, the current western
conception of the soul is rooted in the conscious ego. There is one soul that has several attributes.
The other concepts in the table above are not, as a rule, considered separate entities. Even the
vital and animal souls (Aristotelian concepts which have been thoroughly absorbed into both
Christian and Jewish theology) are simply stages in the development/creation of soul/spirit in a
general sense. However, within Chinese psychology and metaphysics, one gets the impression
that one deals with multiple quasi-independent manifestations of the same thing. The Shen is
dominant, but the rest are forces that need to be unified to make a whole person.
Take, for example, the two semi-distinct forms of the soul in ancient Chinese mythology.
I use semi-distinct instead of distinct, as the two are linked as a Yin/Yang dyad. The spiritual
entities hún and pò, when taken together (as they are in numerous texts), are referred to as 鬼神
guǐshén (literally “ghost and god” or “ghost and spirit”). Here they form another of the pairs of
opposites stemming from the primal syzygy. The characters 魂 hún and 魄 pò reflect this. As
noted earlier in the chapter, Chinese ideograms' multi-part nature can often be used to make
sense of their various layers of meaning. In the case of the character hún (fig. 4-5),

Fig. 4-5: The character hún. Image by author

 20

there are two parts to the ideogram: the character yún 云 (cloud), and the character 鬼 guǐ
(ghost). 云 Yún, the character for “cloud,” signifies a sky-born/divine nature. 鬼 Guǐ, the
character for “ghost, spirit, or demon,” indicates that the ideogram refers to a
paranormal/spiritual entity -- in this case, a soul. The hún is a person’s “cloud ghost,” the divine
spark within the individual. Per the old way of thinking, however, this was not a “personal soul.”
Instead, it was the energy or presence of the cosmos enfolded within the person. Per both ancient
myth and philosophy, it was to Heaven (天 Tiān), the cosmos’ ineffable totality, to which this
part of the person would return. And, according to the older tradition, this is where it ends. There
is little speculation as to what happens after the hún soul’s return to the Celestial Realm. For the
younger Buddhist/Daoist/TCM inflected tradition, however, the story becomes more
complicated. The principle “Shén” or individual spirit takes the place of the hún soul, which was
previously identified with impersonal cosmic force. This version of Shén is identified with the
“Self” or totality of the individual. The Shén/hún soul still returns to the sky. It is, however,
summoned before the gods to have its actions judged. After undergoing a thorough moral
evaluation/judgment by 阎罗王 Yán Luó Wáng (the Chinese adaptation of Yama, the ruler of the
land of the dead) or one of his ministers, the soul progresses to its lot in the afterworld. Here, it is
eventually joined by the liberated pò soul, and the two again become a guǐshén (a whole person)
and await rebirth based on their accumulated karma.

Fig. 4-6: The character pò. Image by author

Likewise, the character for pò (fig. 4-6) is composed of the sub-characters 白 bái and 鬼 guǐ. The
character bái 白 means “white, snowy, pure, and bright.” However, although associated with
purity (and with the xíng jīn 金 or gold/metal), white is most associated with death and funerals
in Chinese color mythology. While the literal meaning of the two characters bái 白 and guǐ 鬼 is
“white soul,” cultural context alters the meaning of the combined characters. For most of us in
the West, white is a color of purity and goodness. It is associated with life and light. These
cultural blinders make it easy to misread the “whiteness” of the pò soul. As noted in the footnote,
the “whiteness” described by the character 白 bái is the whiteness of a corpse. “White soul,” in
this case, equals “death soul” or “mortal soul.” Originally, the pò soul was thought to be the yin
qì associated with the physical body. It was assumed that the pò either dissipated with the death
of the body or within a finite period after the death of the body (the most common prognosis was
that the pò survived until the complete dissolution of the corpse).
Hence the association with white and with the grave made apparent in the ideogram 魄.
However, several influences forced a reinterpretation of pò. These included the sinicization of
Mahayana Buddhism—specifically, the importation of the Pure Land Teachings, which propose
that there is a sort of heavenly survival of the person after death. These radical Buddhist ideas led
to a kind of Chinese “Reformation,” prompting the development of Dàojiào as an indigenous
Chinese religion and a revision of the old idea of the soul. The refinement of the concept of the
 21

harmony of Yin and Yang within both myth and philosophy17 also contributed. Because of these
developments, the pò altered its meaning from a person’s accumulated earthy yin qì to the yin
aspect of the personal soul which accumulated the baser emotional attachments and desires. As
such, pò became a repository of karmic attachments and, while also immortal, became bound to
the corpse. As the earthbound, Yin, aspect of the soul, the pò must wait until the body decays (or
is cremated) for its release. It then makes its way to the afterworld, where it rejoins the hún soul
and reunites with it, reforming the guǐshén which was split apart at death.
These are only two aspects of Shén as spirit, soul, or Self. The others are, respectively:
shén – spirit/consciousness, yì – thought/intention, and zhì – will/ambition. When these are
functioning correctly, they augment each other and guide the functioning of the zàng (“solid”
Yin) organs within which they reside. Per TCM, there is no separation between the spirit and its
functions, the qì body with its organs (dāntián and zàng-fǔ organs) and meridians, and the
physical body. They are all three aspects of the same all-inclusive system. They are a psycho-
somatic/soma-significant feedback loop -- what happens within one part happens within all the
others. Thus, an imbalance in one aspect (spirit, qì, or physical body) bleeds over into all the
other elements, causing disharmony within the whole system. This imbalance, in turn, causes
either mental or physical disease.
Although seen as a common cause of ailments, internal disharmony (disorder among
organs, aspects of the soul, and emotional states) is not the only cause of disease/disorder in the
physical body. As with western allopathy, external disease-causing factors play an essential part
in the development and progression of any illness. Modern TCM is entirely aware of the fact of
the microbial transmission of disease. In fact, during several bouts of food poisoning (an
unpleasant reality in China, as elsewhere), I was prescribed both Chinese herbs to restore
intestinal balance and a course of antibiotics. However, TCM also builds on the concept of
pathogenesis by including other, non-physical” disease-causing agents as well. These six
factors, called liù xié18 六邪 (six evils), are pathogenic or “xié” manifestations of qì. They are,
respectively, 风 fēng (wind), 署 shǔ (summer heat), 湿 shī (dampness), 燥 zào (dryness), 寒 hán
(cold), and 火 huǒ (fire). These “xié” are at least partly seasonal – “cold” diseases are more
common during the winter, those related to “summer heat” and “fire” are more common in
summer. “dampness” aliments are more common during “long summer” or early autumn.
These qì based disorders are treated like any other disease. What most of us refer to as
“the common cold” is, within TCM, a series of different conditions that present with similar
symptoms. These illnesses all have different causes and vastly different treatments. For example,
a “wind-cold” disorder is treated with a combination of herbs designed to warm, tonify qì, and
dispel wind. On the other hand, a wind-fire or wind-summer-heat “cold” is treated with herbs
that cool/dispel heat, tonify qì, and dispel wind. These exogenous illnesses are all combinations
of the liù xié. They are all countered by dispelling the pathogen, balancing its effect with a
counteragent, and tonifying/strengthening qì and jīng to enhance the immune response.

17
Per Needham, this development began with the with the Yin and Yang, or Naturalist, School founded by Zou
Yan sometime in the 2nd or 3rd Century BCE.
18
An actual litteral translation of the term liù xié is “six demonic.” A good figurative translation would be “six evil
influences.” These forces, while not actual 鬼 guǐ (personal spirits or devils), most definitely have a malignant
aspect – they enter the person and cause harm by creating disharmony. They are also real presences. Both my wife
and mother in law talk about feeling cold, wind, or fire, in their bodies as though these were entities rather than
environmental conditions.
 22

4. Traditional Chinese Medicine in Theory and Practice: The Organs and Meridians
The next level of manifestation is the 脏腑 Zàng-fǔ, (lit. viscera and organs), or organs of
the qì body. These include the zàng organs (the “solid” yin organs responsible for transforming
and circulating qì) and the fǔ organs (the “hollow” yang organs responsible for processing the qì
in food and drink into the raw qì used by the zàng organs). It must be remembered that when the
Chinese medical texts talk about “organs” such as the liver or heart, they are only loosely
referring to the physical organs of the same name. This discrepancy occurred partly because, as a
rule, dissection was not practiced in ancient China. The body was considered a sacred inheritance
from one’s parents (and, by extension, from one’s ancestors and the gods). To do any intentional
damage to it (even after death) was tantamount to blasphemy. Consider one example from the
beginning of Zēngzǐ’s treatise on morality, the 孝经 Xiào Jīng (lit. Classic of Filiality/Filial
Duty):

The body, hair and skin, all have been received from the parents, and so one
doesn’t dare damage them -- That is the beginning of xiào. (Feng, Xiào Jīng, 3)

While this passage (and others like it from other works) appear to be admonitions against
behaviors that could lead to self-harm, they are much more. It must be remembered that the
system which has become known as xiào is more than a just means of calculating one’s status
and privileges within the hierarchy of the Chinese kinship system. It is also a system for
organizing the larger social order based on the traditional family structure and applied through a
complex series of reciprocal relationships. As with family members, one should treat others
outside of the family as one would wish to be treated were one in their position. This truism
applies both to the treatment of Emperors and to the treatment of corpses.
It is also partly because those working to codify yì, or traditional medicine, into a
coherent system applied Yin and Yang, the Wǔxíng, and other cosmological concepts to the
body's physical structures and their synergies. Chinese cosmology has always been fond of
nested hierarchies. As with ancient La Tène/Hallstatt metalwork, or complex fractals, in TCM,
an overall pattern replicates itself in ever-smaller iterations. In Chinese cosmology, the iterations
work inward from the Universe-as-a-whole to the smallest unit of matter. Hence the fivefold
structure of both the zàng and the fǔ – each “organ” corresponds to the action of a specific xíng
as well as a shén (an aspect of the soul) and qíng (emotion). Each organ set is also oriented to
either Yin or Yang, depending on whether it is zàng or fǔ. From the physical body, through the
subtle body, to the shén, everything is ultimately composed of primal qì. This synthesis
harmonizes the human body's form and function with both the indigenous cosmos-at-large (the
nature of which adheres to both binary and five-fold symmetry) and the spiritual person (which
exhibits the same binary/five-fold organization).
To give a feel for TCM’s diagnostic regimen, I have provided two tables (fig. 4.7 and
4.8) listing the zàng and fǔ organs, their correspondences, and some general symptoms
associated with organ imbalance.
 23

Organ Correspondences (Xíng, Shén, Some Symptoms of Imbalance

and Qíng) and Organ Function
Xīn 心 -- Heart Xíng --火 Huǒ (Fire) Deficiencies of Heart Qì and
Shén –神 Shén (Mind/Soul) Xuè:
Qíng –高兴 Gāoxìng (Joy) Physical Symptoms:
Pale to Bluish complexion
Pale tongue
Controls:
Feeble Pulse
- Xuè (blood qì)
- Zǒng Qì (refined in the
Mental Symptoms:
heart and lungs)
Insomnia
- Shén (Mind or Self)
Disturbed sleep
Diagnosis: Poor memory
Quality and flow of xuè and Restlessness
heart qì are diagnosed by Inability to concentrate
examining the color and tone of
the tongue, overall facial Excess of Heart Fire (心火 Xīn
complexion, color and clarity of Huǒ):
the eyes, and the pulse. Physical Symptoms:
Flushed complexion
Inflamed or Ulcerated Tongue

Fèi 肺 -- Lungs Xíng –金 jīn (Gold/Metal) Deficiency of Lung Qì:

Shén –魄 Pò (Yin Essence) Shallow breathing
Qíng –悲伤 Bēishāng (Sadness) A weak cough
Watery saliva and mucous
Weak voice
Controls:
Spontaneous sweating
- Respiration –Exchange
Chills
of “stale” qì for “clear”
Bright white complexion
qì.
Weakened immunity
- Production of zǒng qì.
- The dispersal of zǒng qì
Invasion of Lungs by Wind-
throughout the body and
Cold (风寒 Fēng Hán):
the descent of zǒng qi to
the lower organs. Fever
- The dispersal of wèi qì Chills
and bodily fluids to the Headache
skin and hair. Body aches
Cough
Diagnosis: Sneezing
In TCM, lung function is Nasal Congestion
diagnosed much as in Western
allopathy – by examining the
 24

patient’s breathing and the

quality of mucous in the throat
and nasal passages.
脾 Pí – Spleen Xíng –土 Tǔ (Earth) The Spleen is the organ
Shén –意 Yì (Thought) associated with the
Qíng –担心 Dānxīn (Worry) transformation and flow of
nutrients and fluids. Most
imbalances and disorders of the
Controls:
Spleen involve dampness and
- Extraction of jīng wēi or
retention of water.
food essence.
- The first stage of
Skin and Muscle Tissue:
transformation of raw qì
Edema (swelling), abscesses,
into yíng qì, zhōng qì,
boils, or blisters (pooling of
and xuè.
water/blood/fluids under the
- Regulates blood flow
skin or in the muscle tissue)
through the distribution
indicate problems with the
of yíng qì.
Spleen.
- Nourishment and
maintenance of the
The Spleen is also involved in
muscles.
producing yíng qì, which
controls blood flow through the
Diagnosis:
arteries and veins. As such,
The state of Spleen qì is
various hemorrhagic (bleeding)
diagnosed through the pulse,
diseases are associated with the
coloration of the tongue,
spleen deficiencies (specifically
appetite, sense of taste, and
with the Spleen not producing
color of the lips. The doctor
enough yíng qì to “conserve
might also consider other
blood” and prevent blood loss).
factors, such as the tone and
strength of the patient’s voice.
The Spleen is also involved in
nourishing the muscles and four
limbs. Given the role of the
Spleen in the transformation of
nutrients in TCM, disorders
involving muscle atrophy,
malnutrition, and muscle
weakness, are associated with
spleen dysfunction.

肝 Gān -- Liver Xíng –木 Mù (Tree/Wood) Considering that the liver stores

Shén –魂 Hún (Yang Essence) xuè for later use, and xuè and
Qíng – 生气 Shēngqì (Anger) yíng qì control bleeding (among

Controls:
- stores xuè during rest
and releases it during
periods of activity.
- Regulates the flow
(ascent, descent, and
harmonious movement)
of qì through the body.
- Harmonizes the
emotions.
- Maintains the tendons,
ligaments, and fascia.
Diagnosis:
Along with observing the pulse
and the tongue, the state of liver
qì is determined through the
strength and color of the
fingernails and the coloration of
the whites of the eyes
(jaundice).
肾 Shèn – Xíng –水 shuǐ (Water)
Kidneys Shén –智 Zhì (Wisdom)
Qíng – 害怕 Hàipà (Fear)
Controls:
- Stores Jīng (essence)
and Pre-natal qì.
- Controls fertility, birth,
and
maturation/development
of the person.
- Receives zǒng qì from
the lungs.
- Governs marrow and
brain development.
- Governs the health of
the auditory system.
- Processes bodily fluids
into urine.
25
other things), disorders
involving the liver can also
manifest as hemorrhaging.
Emotional problems are also a
result of liver imbalance. As the
liver is tasked with promoting
the proper flow of all forms of
qì throughout the body, a liver
imbalance can cause subtle
imbalances in other organs,
causing the Wǔ Shén (the five
aspects of spirit or soul) to fall
out of balance as well. This
imbalance influences other
organs, causing insomnia,
depression, irritability, and
general emotional malaise.
Interestingly, diseases of the
eye (from conjunctivitis to
glaucoma) are also associated
with various pathological liver
states.
The primary function of the
kidneys is the storage of jīng
and the regulation of the
reproductive system. As such,
any reproductive problems are
assigned to deficiency,
stagnation, excess, or blockage,
of the kidney. Conditions with
their origin in a Liver
imbalance include all manner of
menstrual problems (weak
menstruation, dysmenorrhea,
etc.) and infertility in women.
They also include impotence,
ejaculatory disorders, and
infertility in men.
The auditory system is also
dependent on kidney essence
for proper functioning. As such,
 26

Diagnosis: deafness and tinnitus are

Along with the usual pulse and considered symptomatic of a
tongue observation, diagnosis deficiency of jīng.
of kidney ailments and
imbalances proceed from the As kidneys control water
condition of the reproductive metabolism, they are causally
system, the urinary tract, and connected to the health of the
the state of the patient’s urinary system. Any
hearing. Liver conditions can dysfunction in kidney yang can
also be diagnosed through the result in urinary tract disorders.
state of the patient’s teeth and
hair. Also, as the kidneys essence
controls the development of
marrow and bone, skeletal
system disorders are related to
kidney imbalance.
心包 Xīnbǎo – Referred to in TCM as the As the pericardium both
Pericardium “King’s Bodyguard,” the protects the heart and is
pericardium has as its primary dependent on the heart,
function the protection of the symptoms manifest as though
heart from both external they were problems with the
pathogens and afflictive internal heart.
states. It is also responsible for
connecting sex drive (controlled
by the kidneys) with love
(controlled by the heart). While
it is not considered a significant
organ per se (it is dependent on
the heart), its placement and
function connect it to one of the
six yin meridians. As such, it is
listed with the zàng organs.

Fig. 4.7 The five zàng organs (including the Xīnbǎo), correspondences, and
associated diseases. Table by the author.

Note that the zàng or solid organs are Yin and control the refinement and flow of qì. As such,
they receive more attention in TCM diagnosis and treatment. This is not to say that the fǔ organs
are unimportant. The fǔ (hollow) organs correspond to the principle of Yang. They extract qì
from food and water and eliminate waste products. The fǔ organs are as follows:

Organ Zàng Organ, Area of Influence,
and Diagnostic Methods
小肠 Xiǎo Cháng -- Zàng Organ –心 Xīn (Heart).
Small Intestine
The small intestine separates
purer from coarser elements --
jīng wēi (food qì) is
disentangled from liquid and
solid waste, and the later passed
out of the body through the
kidneys and the large intestine.
Purifies and transports fluids
and substances which enter the
blood. As such, it protects the
spirit by filtering out harmful
elements from the environment.
Diagnostic methods:
As with the heart, the small
intestine’s condition is
diagnosed through the color and
tone of the tongue, overall
complexion, and the color and
clarity of the eyes.
大肠 Dà Cháng -- Zàng Organ –肺 Fèi (Lungs)
Large Intestine
As in Western allopathy, the
large intestine moves the waste
from digestion out of the body
through the anus. In the
process, it also absorbs fluids
from the waste.
In TCM, however, it also
separates what is essential to
the individual self from what is
no is longer needed. As such, it
works to distinguish the
essential (beneficial, right, and
morally sound) from those
things that can be cast aside
(harmful, immoral, and evil).
27
Diseases/Disorders
All disorders associated
with stress or anxiety, such
as ulcers, colitis, and the
like, are associated with an
imbalance in the
heart/small intestine
network.
Considering that the small
intestine is also tasked with
fluid elimination, a small
intestine imbalance is also
associated with urethritis,
cystitis, and other urinary
tract diseases.
As the large intestine/lung
network is concerned with
letting go/elimination,
disorders involving the
large intestine include
asthma, spinal problems,
constipation, and spastic
colon/irritable bowel.
Imbalance in the large
intestine can also cause
mental/emotional
symptoms. For example,
one becomes morally
ambivalent, one’s thoughts
can become crowded and
unfocused, and one’s
emotional states tainted by
a sense of extreme
boredom.
 28

Diagnostic Methods:
As with the lungs, breathing
and mucous are observed, as are
bowel habits.

胃 Wèi – Stomach Zàng Organ –脾 Pí (Spleen) Stomach imbalances

involve such problems as
The stomach “rots and ripens” indigestion, nausea,
food, which is to say that it vomiting, diarrhea, and
breaks the food down into its other common intestinal
parts (waste and qì/ conditions. These
nourishment). Interestingly, it conditions result from
requires a great deal of moisture either an imbalance of
(a yin quality) to do this. After spleen qì (which causes
separation, the pure aspect of said spleen qì to descend)
the food is sent upward to the or a stomach imbalance
Spleen, while the impure part is that causes an excess of
sent downward to the small rising stomach qì.
intestine for further digestion.
Also, because the
spleen/stomach network
Diagnostic Methods: controls the emotion of
The condition of the stomach is worry (Dānxīn), stomach
diagnosed through the color of qì imbalances, like spleen
the lips, appetite, and the imbalances, result in
presence of any gastrointestinal emotional conditions such
disorder (diarrhea, indigestion, as worry, anxiety, and
etc.) over-thinking.
胆 Dǎn – Gall Bladder Zang Organ –肝 Gān (Liver) Any disorders manifesting
a bitter taste in the mouth,
The gallbladder's primary or jaundice, are partly due
function is the storage of excess to a gallbladder imbalance.
liver qì as “juice of essence”
(bile). As such, it assists with Emotionally, gallbladder
the digestion of food and the imbalances manifest as
extraction of qì. It is also insomnia, excessive
associated with the flow of qì, worry/anxiety, and
which controls emotion. disturbed sleep.
• A healthy gallbladder is
associated with Also, disharmony in the
fortitude/courage. liver/gallbladder network
• The quality of bile can cause poor judgment,
stored by the gallbladder clouded thinking, and/or
is associated with the procrastination.
quality of judgment—
the purer the bile, the
 29

better one’s judgment,

and thinking.

Diagnostic Methods:
(Same as liver)
Color and clarity of the eyes.
Strength and color of the nails.

膀胱 Páng Guāng – Zàng Organ --肾 Shèn Urinary bladder

Urinary Bladder (Kidneys)
For TCM, as with Western
Medicine, the urinary bladder's
primary function is the holding
and elimination of impure body
fluid (urine). This urine results
from the kidney's function of
separating vital fluids into pure
and “turbid” liquids.
imbalances generally result
in difficulty in urinating,
incontinence, painful
urination, and any other
symptom stemming from
problems with what
Western allopathy refers to
as the urinary tract.

Diagnostic Methods:
As with kidney problems,
diagnosis of bladder ailments
and imbalances generally
proceeds from presenting
symptoms – inflammation of
the urinary tract, difficulty
urinating, and so forth. As
bladder problems can also result
from a kidney imbalance, the
methods used to diagnose
kidney ailments can also be
used.
三焦 Sān Jiāo– Triple The triple burner, or triple Because the function of the
Focus or Triple focus, has no associated organ. Sān Jiāo is the control of
Burner. It is, in fact, a division of the the rising/falling
body cavity into three regions. circulation of qì and fluids,
The first of these is the upper imbalanced may manifest
burner, which holds the lungs as edema (excess fluid in
and heart. This region is the tissues) or difficult
charged with distributing qì. urination. However,
The second is the middle specific diagnosis and
burner, which corresponds to treatment are per zàng-fǔ
digestion, and holds the Spleen organ network, rather than
and stomach. And the lower
 30

burner, which encloses the being particular to the Sān

liver, gallbladder, kidneys, Jiāo.
small and large intestines, and
urinary bladder.

Diagnostic Methods:
As an imbalance in the Sān Jiāo
is reflected in the zàng-fǔ
networks, diagnosis is handled
as though diagnosing individual
organ systems (more precisely.
the network most likely to be
causing the problem).
Fig. 4.8 The five fǔ organs (including the Sān Jiāo), their corresponding zàng
organs, and the manifestation of imbalances. Table by the author.

These six zàng and six fǔ organs are connected into a more extensive network of
channels through which the subtle “bodily fluids” (qì and jīng) flow. Notice that, while there are
five xìng and five shén, there are six zàng organs and six fǔ organs. This discrepancy occurs
because there are twelve primary 经络 jīngluó (the subtle channels, or meridians, through which
qì travels) -- six for Yin and six for Yang. There are also eight additional “extraordinary” jīngluó.
Before the Nèijīng, it was assumed that there were eleven organs (they already included the
pericardium as a zàng organ) and eleven jīngluó. However, the compilers of the Nèijīng added
(or borrowed from another tradition) a psycho-spiritual meta-organ, which controls all the other
organs' actions. This meta-organ is hollow and Yang (it is portrayed graphically as the three
divisions of the body cavity). It thus falls under the fǔ organs. This addition allowed for greater
symmetry, balancing out the yin and yang meridians. This development also at least partially
explains the dominance of yang qì in maintaining health. While the individual organs which
regulate qì flow are Yin, regulation of the whole system is accomplished by the Yang Sānjiāo.
The meridian system mentioned above is something akin to the circulatory system (see
fig. 4.9 on page 49)– it is a series of subtle vessels or pathways through which the various forms
of body qì circulate. There are “points” called 穴 xué (lit. holes, caves, or cavities) along these
pathways. These are small regions where body qì rises close to the body’s surface. In terms of
medical treatment, there are two ways of manipulating these points. First, in the case of those
xué which are closest to the surface, acupressure or massage (referred to as 推拿 tuīná –lit.
“pushing and holding”) is often enough to work with the underlying qì. The deeper points are
another matter. In this case, treatment consists of the insertion of needles into the xué at various
depths to stimulate or alter the qì flow. This practice is called 针疗 zhēnliáo or “needle
treatment.” Referred to in the Western vernacular as “acupuncture,” it is considered one of the
more mainstream TCM treatment forms. Zhēnliáo is, however, only a part of 针灸 zhēnjiǔ (lit.
“needles and moxibustion”), which includes a variety of methods for stimulating the deeper xué.
灸法 Jiǔfǎ (moxa law), or moxibustion, involves burning small cones of moxa (also called 艾叶
àiyè or silvery wormwood) on or slightly above a xué. This is done to both warm the
 31

fig. 4.9 diagram of the major (twelve primary and eight extraordinary) meridians and xué
(points). Public domain via Wikimedia Commons.
 32

qì flow and aid in the expulsion of pathogenic factors such as cold or damp. There is also 拔罐法
báguànfǎ (lit. “cupping glass law”), which is the practice of placing a small, heated glass cup
over a point. Here, the cup draws 血 xuè (qì and vital fluid) to the surface, thereby removing any
blockage and reliving qì stagnation.
External treatment modalities (tuīná, zhēnliáo, jiǔfǎ, báguànfǎ, etc.) are not, however, the
only way of working with qi flow. As noted in the section on qì (specifically the liù xié or six
evil influences), the various herbal decoctions, pills, powders, and the like are of equal
importance. Unfortunately, this topic is far too complex to deal with in any detail here. The
Chinese materia medica contains hundreds of works on herbology and related theoretical texts,
and multiple thousands of herbal formulas. Suffice to say that TCM herbology is similar to
Western herbology, save for the fact that a great deal more of the traditional cosmology is still
enfolded into the practice. Whereas western herbology is concerned with pharmacology and
chemical interaction, its TCM counterpart is also concerned with balancing the flow of vital
fluids (qì xuè, jīng, etc.) and even warding off malevolent external influences (both
environmental and spiritual).
The most famous of the core texts of Chinese herbology is the six-volume 本草纲目
Běncǎo gāngmù (Roots and Herbs: Essential Principles), written by Li Shizhen in 1578. This
treatise is still in widespread use in mainland China by doctors specializing in TCM. Another is
the 神农本草经 Shēnnóng Běncǎo Jīng (lit. Shēnnóng’s Herbal Classic), a book attributed to no
less of a personage than the agriculture god Shēnnóng. This treatise is also still in use. A fact
attested to by the translation used in this dissertation offering both the traditional Chinese name
for the herb and its Western botanical classification.

5. Traditional Chinese Medicine in Theory and Practice: Medical Qìgōng and a Return to
Nèidān
As noted earlier, the systems touched on here are only semi-physical. Most are non-
physical (subtle or energetic) entities that can be acted on through physical means. Although they
use similar terminology, the zàng-fǔ organs are not the organs with which we are familiar. Each
zàng and fǔ “organ” is an energetic center that governs an intricate web of physiological
processes. Likewise, while there are some functional overlaps with Western medicine's
circulatory system, the jīngluó is not to be considered an actual physical thing. It is a series of
subtle pathways for even more subtle essences. And qì, with its dual nature and multiple roles,
has no cognate in mainstream Western thought (excepting maybe the “quantum” of modern
theoretical physics). As such, it is no surprise that there are also non-physical methods for
dealing with illness and imbalance within the framework of Chinese medical practice. The first
of these, which is still employed within both Daoism and certain schools of Buddhism, is healing
through magical rites and sigilae. These practices will be dealt with in greater detail in chapter
five. The other is medical qìgōng
According to qìgōng theory, regular practice enables one to heal oneself of all sorts of
ailments. However, the benefits of qìgōng do not stop with one’s own body. When one has
become proficient enough in working with qì, one can also learn forms (referred to as 远气功
yuǎn qìgōng – “distant qìgōng”) which allow one to work with others’ qi as well. Like the forms
used for personal health and balance, yuǎn qìgōng involves movements/gestures by the qìgōng
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specialist, which manipulate the patient’s qì flow. Interestingly, even with the CCP’s typical
Marxist tilt toward dogmatic scientism, both forms of qìgōng are practiced and taught (along
with other elements of TCM) as a part of the medical profession in the PRC. There is even an
authoritative medical textbook (Chinese Medical Qigong, edited by Liu Tianjun and Xiao
Meiqiang) on various qìgōng forms and their therapeutic uses. It is considered reliable enough as
a treatment that J.A. English-Leuck, writing in the collection of essays on contemporary Chinese
society titled Handbook of Chinese Popular Culture, notes that:
Currently, there are a proliferating number of qigong centers. Some may be
specific to Qigong, such as the well-known Beidaihe Qigong Therapy Institute,
developed by Dr. Liu Guizhen, or they may be part of a college of traditional
medicine, such as the Qigong Research Unit affiliated with the Shanghai Institute
of Traditional Chinese Medicine. Others may conduct research and qigong
practice housed in “Westernized” hospitals that seek to synthesize traditional
Chinese medicine with the rationalist tradition of the West. Huaxi, West China
Medical University in Chengdu, is an example of the latter. The organizations are
primarily regional, but some are international, such as the World Academic
Society of Medical Qigong organized in 1989. (English-Lueck 148)
And this is only the tip of the iceberg. As with the diviners lining the streets close to temples,
qìgōng healing has developed into a cottage industry. Like traditional yīshī, many qìgōng
healers are members of family traditions. As a rule, healing skills are passed down from one
generation to the next within these traditions. These iterant healers also have little or no formal
(either Western or TCM) medical training, relying instead on knowledge passed down secretly
and exclusively to family members and special “friends of the family” (Hsu, The Transmission of
Chinese Medicine, 25, 277-278). Unfortunately (and, again, like the temple diviners), due to the
prestige associated with qìgōng, others are simply grifters out for easy kuài19.
All of this, of course, hearkens back to Nèidān – modern TCM, in all its forms, is much
closer to the ancient relational modalities of Chinese alchemy and Daoist/Buddhist healing magic
than it is to the modernist rationalist/reductionist medical system. Even with the influx of
Western medical ideas and diagnostic practices, TCM has retained much of its original content --
originally simply referred to as 医 yī (lit. medicine or curing) before the advent of Western
allopathy.
Western medicine has always been exogenously focused. The Western allopathic
tradition has always focused on finding an external cause for disease –allopathy equates the
practice of medicine with “curing” disease using an outside agent. Until recently, There has been
little talk of causes outside of the usual microbial, genetic, and toxicological culprits (much less
any discussion of possible subtle internal factors which allow these incursions and breakdowns
to happen). TCM defines medicine differently. Medicine in the vein of Chinese yī is endogenous.
When a TCM doctor, either modern or traditional, discusses a “cure,” it is in the context of
rebalancing specific aspects of the patient. Not only are the symptoms secondary, but the disease
is as well. The primary concern is always the imbalance in the person’s subtle nature, which
caused the body’s internal mechanisms to break or allowed it to be invaded by pathogens in the
first place. The focus of TCM treatment is a restoration of the balance within the malfunctioning

19
Kuài 块 is used as a colloquialism for currency similar to our “buck.”
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organ system. Ideally, this emphasis both “cures” the current disease and precludes further
problems.
Being holistic and relational, the modalities which TCM uses are somewhat different than
those used by the medical practices with which most are familiar. For those of us raised with
Western allopathy, the idea of using needles placed at strategic sites on the body to cure disease
can seem somewhat silly. And never mind the practice of yuǎn qìgōng, which sounds
suspiciously like “magic” to most educated Westerners. As with divination and fate, however,
these are taken very seriously in China. It must be added that “magic” is anything but “silly” for
the Chinese and is also taken seriously (at least by a large segment of the population). Hence the
next chapter.