One Year of Practicing and Living Qigong

When I bowed into Eli Buren's Awareness Men's Dojo on January 7, 2025, I was excited but had no idea what kind of transformational journey would unfold for me after being initiated into the art of Qigong.

Now, exactly 365 days and 217 practices later, I wanted to reflect on what I have learned, what I have started to see, and what I still wonder about.

Internalizing Forms in Context

The concept of Qigong wasn't totally new to me. I had dabbled with a few forms before and would have described the practice as moving energy through movement. After experiences with Pantarei therapy, I also felt I knew about the power of creating energy shifts through bodily work and was curious about the more self-initiated approach Qigong could bring.

What Eli introduced me (and the other men) to was two-fold:

  1. A set of Qigong forms we learned to practice, each with its specific characteristics (more on that in the next section), leading up to an integrated sequence.
  2. The overall practice of awareness in one's masculine edge and how Qigong forms support holding oneself physically and emotionally in everyday challenges.

Week by week, we got introduced to new forms. Each session was dedicated to internalizing one new form or meditative practice, and then connecting it to previous forms. All in the context of a masculine container that allowed for playful interactions, deep witnessing, polarity essentials, and diving into the connection between physical movement and higher spiritual powers by allowing us to connect to the Tao (the greater whole).

Aligning with the Creation Cycle

While many Qigong forms are universal, the core value for me came from those who are connected to components of the Creation Cycle, unifying four attributes:

  • Elements
  • Seasons
  • Organs
  • Masculine (yang) and Feminine (yin) energies

The order might vary from source to source and teacher to teacher, but the order taught by Eli resonated the most with me.

  • We start in water, where all life originates. It symbolizes purification and is associated with winter and the kidneys.
  • Water nourishes wood, which represents pure potential. It symbolizes spring and connects to our liver.
  • Wood fuels the fire, which is all about precision and absolute presence. It represents summer and connects to the heart.
  • Burned wood turns into earth. It represents the equinox and transition, connecting to our spleen.
  • In wood, metal is formed. It invites honest and ruthless self-evaluation and connects to the expansion and contraction of our lungs.
  • We return to water to turn inward.
My original scribble from the first session of the Dojo in 2025

Moving through the forms in alignment with the sequence of the creation cycle creates a balance. Without it, the elements create counter-movements:

    • Unbalanced Wood and Fire: Being on the edge endlessly, not coming home
    • Unbalanced Fire and Metal: Overbearing, Lost in the analytical mind

While the seasons and organs were consistently connected to the same element (i.e., water to winter and the kidneys), the yin/yang cultivation was not. I got introduced to powerful, striking yang wood forms and beautifully flowing yin wood forms alike.

I would use this knowledge to align the energy I want to cultivate at the beginning or end of a day or a task ahead (I will discuss how this cultivation can extend to others through inspired teaching). Sometimes I dedicated entire practices to forms from one element, sometimes I combined a few, and sometimes I went through the whole cycle - all dependent on the energetic intention I wanted to cultivate.

As Without, So Within: Beyond the Movements

While internalizing the forms was a fun and welcomed challenge, I was wondering what else was there beyond the movement. I heard Eli's words about the deeper meaning of the forms, and some felt more in alignment for me than others. But it took me a few weeks of daily practice to notice the deeper layers these unlocked.

Each little bit of tension, resistance, or avoidance in the movements represents not just a physical notion. It connects to something within you and invites inspection.

Do you struggle to expand widely during a fire form? What are you afraid to show the world?

Noticing the stillness of your hands' turning point slips away? How difficult is noticing subtleties or stillness in other parts of your life?

Switching from a firm holding to soft flow feels difficult? Where else do you struggle with shifting between polarities?

In addition, transitions between forms offered another vehicle of reflection and cultivation worth its own essay. This wasn't just about moving from one form to another, but to honor the space in between in everyday life. In between meetings, interactions with family members, or picking up the phone.

Paying attention to these notions connects the outside movement to the inner work Qigong supports. And this is where the magic happens. I started to use these subtle cues of my body during a practice to reflect on days or experiences - and then select a form in the same or next practice accordingly to support balance, integration, or healing.

Learning to Love Instructing

Six months into my practice, I felt an impulse to share some of what I knew with others at the Creative Consciousness Retreat Festival I was attending.

I was nervous stepping into this space and role, but felt supported by being in high integrity towards Eli and the intention behind the practices. Guiding others through the forms I knew and sharing their meanings immediately clicked for me. My knack for teaching and communicating material met a natural resonance with the practice of Qigong and a path toward embodied spirituality.

It was as if I could feel the group of 20 people in the room. Where forms resonated, where they didn't land, where people had resistance, and just the overall increase of energy manifested in the room through somewhat synchronized movements.

While it was only one hour, I immediately felt that "something was there" for me to explore in this space. I just didn't know what it was. On the following days, participants even approached me for additional Qigong sessions in the morning. The way I approached this "back then" makes me chuckle today, but I acknowledge them as a vital part of my learning journey.

The retreat brought many gifts for me, including the desire to explore the space of deepening my practice and pursuing a path towards instructing and teaching Qigong.

Choosing Deeper Practice over Certifications

Sitting with that intention quickly led to questions of the "right" way to get there. First, my brain was seeking any "certified" paths. Something that would immediately signal to others that I did the "right" thing and am now in some of Qigong-teaching category. Oh, the wonderful ways the ego can get in the way of one's true path.

I researched in-person and online offerings, but never truly felt the materials or teachers. They were technically programs that also touched on the topics I learned in Eli's Dojo, but more from an academic, rather than an embodied perspective. And they were technically Qigong teachers, but I couldn't connect with them the same way I did with Eli's teachings.

For example, one program was a self-paced 12-month certification. My ego loved it. I probably could return to the retreat that sparked the idea in one year, but now with an official certificate under my belt to show people. After testing a few videos from that teacher and buying other courses, I had to be honest with myself and resign to that idea.

Trusting my Soul to Choose a Path

After all, what opened the biggest door for me in Qigong was the connection to the highest version of myself, my spiritual nature, guided by a teacher who found the right words and context, to let the forms take me beyond the motions. Eli was my first choice for a "teacher training" path, but he didn't had an explicit offer, so I discarded this option early on. I also wanted to honor and respect his teachings by not taking what I had picked up from him out into the world during the (relatively) short time in the Dojo.

But Choose within drew me back to him. A friend asked whether, for the same investment, I would choose a polished 12-month program with a certificate, or 2 years of 1:1 work with Eli, without a certificate. I didn't hesitate. I would select 1:1 with Eli at any time. If I had to distill it to one reason, it was the intentionality he brought to choosing and practicing a form. Something I wanted to put at the top of my own practice, and feel drawn to further spread.

Equipped with that clarity, I nervously reached out to him about that possibility. Would he consider me worthy? Could I show up with the right integrity that matches the level of his teachings?

Eli received me in a way (I feel) only he can do. With an open heart, acknowledging the purity of my intention, and the willingness to teach from his essence. Since then, we meet for at least monthly 1:1 sessions that feel like the perfect mentoring and guidance on my path. We both trust where the sessions take us, whether it is about reviewing my existing practice forms, integrating new ones, reflecting on my experiences, or diving deeper into the adjacent domains of TCM, polarity, or "simply" embodied presence to the whole.

Looking Ahead

I have worked with measurable goals to nourish my practice so far. I found that, for me, a certain number of repetitions or a certain amount of time spent in one form unlocks deeper levels. Despite Qigong becoming an integrated part of my life, I will keep an eye on how much time I dedicate to it.

But the depth of Qigong doesn't necessarily come from the quantity of forms known. I had incredible moments of breakthrough and sensing from staying in just one form. And I noticed how quickly my integration of a movement evolved when I just repeated the same set in the same order for months at a time.

That's why, right now, I want to prioritize the exploration of the practice not as if it'd be a gym workout, but wandering a forest. Here are themes I am currently present to for such exploration:

Inspired Teaching

While leading a session with members of my spiritual community, I found myself transitioning to forms I "didn't had in mind" before we began. I had an intention, but thought of other forms. Somehow, though, it felt right to stay in this ad-hoc form I was in - for me, and others in the session. Turns out, that's what Eli calls inspired teaching. Bringing an intention to a practice with others, but completely surrendering to one's connection to a higher source for choosing and almost channeling forms. So that they bring just the right physical and emotional impulses for everyone in a space, this could even turn into an act of healing through instructed forms for one or more people with specific symptoms in one of their four bodies.

Continued Curation of Forms

There are plenty of forms in my toolbox that I want to build a deeper connection to through deepened practice. Therefore, I don't necessarily need more forms right now, but maybe only a few that represent specific intentions. For example, another yang fire form, a more yang water form, or a more yin-inspired holding form like the yang Qi Generation form I got to know.

Connecting to the Cosmology of Qigong

The practice of Qigong led me into connected adjacent spiritual fields. Like understanding the intention behind TCM. Or Tea ceremonies. Or Taoist teachings in the context of nonduality, the influence of Dharma/Ming, and how they connect to my personal spiritual growth. Or the astrology side of the Chinese lunar calendar in the context of not "just" the animals, but also the elements and yin/yang energies.

I am grateful to everyone who has encouraged and accompanied me on this path so far, and I can't wait to explore what's behind the next turns.