Warrior, Heal Thyself

Let me put my cards on the table: I’m a Guizhi type to a T.

The textbook “effeminate bookworm.” I’m thin as a rail, tend to have cold hands and feet, and you can see my heart beating through my shirt from ten paces. Mine is not what you might call a robust constitution; in fact, I have reason to suspect that coffee is to me what methamphetamine is for most people (an unreasonably strong stimulant with the potential to destroy families and melt faces). I am, shall we say, sensitive.

So it might seem strange for me to be writing about being a warrior. I mean, who ever heard of a skinny bookworm Hercules?

All I can say is that when the call comes, you answer.

And if you spend enough time barking up the healing tree and sniffing out the straight and narrow path of the Heart, you just might find yourself on the steep switchbacks of the way of the Gallbladder.

It’s a curious pair: the feminine, receptive, immaterial Heart (xin) and the vigorous, archetypically masculine, active and very physical Gallbladder (dan). They sit opposite one another on the organ clock, the Heart residing at midsummer and heralding the return of yin, the Gallbladder occupying the winter solstice position and initiating yang’s return. The Heart is yin within yang, the Gallbladder yang within yin.

As polar opposites, these two organs have a lot in common; just swap black for white, masculine for feminine, and you transform from one to the other. As with yin and yang themselves, the Heart and Gallbladder are interdependent. And as a pair they’re central–the organ clock’s vertical axis runs from the Gallbladder at the bottom position through to the Heart at the top. The verticality of the image suggests the meaning of the Chinese word zheng, uprightness. Who must be more upright than the noble lord (Heart) on the one hand, and the footsoldier (Gallbladder) on the other? And their uprightness is interdependent: the footsoldier relies on the lord to guide his mission just as the lord depends on the footsoldier for her defense.

The Heart-Gallbladder axis is a two-way street, and it can be a slippery slope as well.

Ask my friend L, who discovered this after praying for initiation as a healer–the way of the Heart, she thought. That weekend, she was bitten by a tick and contracted Lyme disease. Since then, the narrative of her life has taken on the contours of an epic battle. As the spirochetes wage siege on her body, she has had to discover and draw on deep reserves of strength and resilience. In the process, she is finding that she is developing the determination of a warrior–pure Gallbladder energy–alongside the compassion of the Heart.

The moral is not only “be careful what you wish for.”

It’s that health is not something we can take for granted; often it’s something that must be fought for tooth and claw. Most often, though, the enemy is within us, in the form of negative habit patterns of (in order of increasing importance) action, speech and thought. In order to help lead others towards their highest health, which is no different from alignment with their destiny, we must first face our own obstacles to cure.  And I don’t know about you, but in my experience these obstacles don’t budge easy.

As healers in training we are conscripts into the army of love, light and life; as such, we have to be what Chogyam Trungpa called “spiritual warriors.”

Whether you’re an effeminate bookworm or a barrel-chested titan, it takes the courage–the gall–of a warrior to grow into ourselves and put the healing mandate of our hearts to use. As the gongfu school where I’ve started training implies in their policy, whereby they only teach their system of tuina and craniosacral therapy to those who learn and practice their martial arts, if you want to come into the light, you must work through the dark.

In order to heal, you have to be willing to fight.

Jonathan Edwards



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About Jonathan Edwards

I eventually found my way to Portland and NCNM’s Classical Chinese Medicine program and am now happily settled into the world of the 5 phases and 6 conformations. Alongside my focus on Shanghan Lun herbalism and Japanese meridian therapy, I continues to immerse myself in Western herbal traditions and mysticism, with a recent focus in Afro-Brazilian religion and plant spirit medicine. Learn more about Jonathan

View all posts by Jonathan Edwards - Website: http://www.rootsofnourishment.com

Evan says:
11/19/2012

I don’t know Johnathan maybe we can bypass the warrior stuff and talk about being sages instead.

We certainly need the gall to step out and initiate but maybe not in the warrior sense.

I’ll be interested to see what others think.

Reply
Eric Grey says:
11/20/2012

I’m not sure there’s any reason to reject the warrior language. Certainly, there is plenty to take from it without having to inflict violence on others. I definitely think Jonathan was thinking more along these lines, and I support it quite a bit. In many ways, the warrior and the sage aren’t too far apart, imho, perhaps a more external versus internal focus – but I don’t think there’s a good reason to believe one is morally or practically inferior or superior.

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Lionel says:
11/20/2012

I guess if we are being metaphorical here, eg. one doesn’t actually have to have an interest in martial arts to be warrior like as you are talking about, I’m with you here Jonathan.

I like how Virgil put it in the Aeneid: “Tu ne cede malis sed contra audentior ito” = “Do not give in to evil but proceed ever more boldly against it.” This isn’t (necessarily) about fighting, it is about integrity.

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Eric Grey says:
11/20/2012

Oh, and Jonathan may take a bit to get back on comments. I hope he won’t mind me saying that he’s on a meditation retreat for the next several days.

Reply
11/26/2012

I appreciate the engagement, everyone. As Eric mentioned I’m fresh back from a 10-day Vipassana meditation retreat (which I’m writing about on my blog at http://illwindblog.blogspot.com), so inner work is very much on my mind.
For me, at least, this kind of inner work is indeed a battle, and one does need to cultivate the qualities of the warrior archetype to overcome the inner demons. I’m thinking of what the Buddhists call virya, energy or strength (cognate with our word virility), and adhitthana, strong determination. Buddha had to have the strength of will to sit under the bodhi tree until his liberation from the chains of the limited mind was complete.

I agree that a certain circumspection is appropriate here, though, as violence is certainly not the way of the sage or even the inner warrior. To overcome our demons, which are none other than the negative and limiting patterns in our own minds, we need compassion and wisdom along with strength and determination. In Vipassana in particular, it is emphasized that the work is to bring the light of awareness to whatever is happening, not to try and change anything inside. It’s a profoundly nonviolent process (though not necessarily a gentle or an easy one). Where the light shines, the dark simple ceases to be.

I’m sure it’s understood that I don’t claim to speak as any sort of accomplished person in this regard, just as someone who’s been hit over the hit with the importance of this kind of work until I started to take notice. Through my own experience I’m convinced that our own demons–weaknesses, fears, dark areas–will always limit our capacity as healers (as well as lovers and parents and teachers, etc. etc.) until we bring light to those areas. We can’t lead anyone down a road we haven’t been down ourselves, so the process of becoming a healer begins with aligning ourselves upright along the Heart-Gallbladder axis and opening ourselves to the never-ending work of healing.

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Patrick says:
12/12/2012

小心,胆大
Small heart, big gall bladder
The translation: Mindful and courageous
I’m not sure when the phrase came into fashion, but it becomes widespread by Qing dynasty at any rate. The top doctor must be mindful and courageous. Small heart, big gall bladder. Seems you’ve hit on something here.

A duet of daoist ideas come to mind. One, the top ruler rules without acting. Two, the heart must be emptied to be filled. A small heart right? The smallest. But big courage, that’s a must. Not easy to do both at the same time though. Maybe that’s another reason they sit opposite on the wheel.

But Vipassana is pretty good for that, huh?

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