What we’re about
In ancient Chinese philosophy and practices, Qi (氣, pronounced chee) is understood as a vital force that flows through all forms of life. The Chinese character for Qi can be translated as "air" or "breath," but a more comprehensive way to think of it is as a form of universal energy that animates and sustains life.
You might compare Qi to electrical energy. When a current of electrons flows through a lightbulb, it lights up. When the current stops, the lightbulb goes dark. Similarly, the body thrives as long as Qi flows freely through it. When Qi becomes obstructed, our bodily functions weaken, and if it becomes completely stagnant, life ceases.
In our daily lives, we encounter countless situations that stir up emotions, and this is perfectly normal. As long as we hold onto thoughts that create a sense of separation, emotions will naturally arise. But what happens next is crucial. Do we allow these emotions to pass through us like light through a clear pane of glass, or do we resist and block them?
Many of us, when faced with overwhelming emotional experiences, tend to choose the latter. We disconnect, believing that the intensity of our emotions is too much to bear. In doing so, we create an energetic barrier—composed of thoughts, tensions, and other feelings—to prevent the rush of emotions from being fully felt. It’s like building a dam to hold back a river’s flow. In psychological terms, we dissociate from reality in an attempt to suppress painful or undesirable experiences. This strategy is often a defense mechanism to protect the fragile ego structure we've constructed. Unfortunately, this avoidance comes at a high cost: what we call trauma.
Returning to the lightbulb analogy, imagine resistors being added to the wires. As the electrical current passes through the resistors, they heat up, and less energy reaches the lightbulb. Similarly, the energetic barriers we create within ourselves hinder the smooth flow of Qi. Not only is Qi expended to maintain these barriers, but it also deprives the rest of the body of the energy it needs, while causing a buildup of stagnant Qi in areas where it doesn’t belong.
Now, to the purpose of this group!
Here, we work with our bodies to create an environment where Qi can flow freely once again. The secret ingredient? Awareness.
When we bring awareness—our conscious attention—to the body, something remarkable happens. The body, equipped with its own intelligence, begins to heal and recover naturally. However, this innate wisdom is often suppressed because we tend to over-intellectualize our emotions and physical sensations. Thought itself is a powerful form of dissociation, as the mind constantly seeks to protect its own constructs. But when we shift our focus from the mind to the body, we start to notice things we may have forgotten or repressed.
As Tony Robbins (or whoever coined the phrase) famously said, "Energy flows where attention goes." When we direct our attention to the present moment and to our body, we guide Qi through its natural pathways. As Qi moves, it starts to dismantle the energetic barriers we’ve built up. This process can look different for everyone. In my experience, when I allow this flow, my body begins to move on its own, without conscious direction. In Chinese, this is often referred to as "spontaneous Qi Gong." Essentially, we surrender control to the deeper intelligence within us, and this guides us through the healing process. This is the essence of what Daoists call Wu Wei—non-action, or effortless action.
For me, this often resembles a session of Tai Chi, where my body flows smoothly and rhythmically. At other times, it might look strange, unconventional, or even a bit unsettling. But in my experience, this intelligence never gives us more than we can consciously handle. As the energy flows, I allow my body to move and respond in whatever way it needs.
There’s no “right” way for the body to move, because the mental processes that led us to these blockages are full of contradictions and paradoxes themselves. By observing the body as it unwinds and dances in awareness, we gently begin to see and heal the things we’ve dissociated from. This is the art of healing through non-action.