Qigong and Smiling

Aug. 24, 2014

“Qigong” means “cultivating energy.” Qi (pronounced “chee”) means the vital energy that flows through through all things in the universe;” Gong means "accomplishment," or skill that is cultivated through steady practice for health maintenance, healing and vitality. A practice session begins with standing still, breathing deeply into the abdomen and exhaling slowly, while visualizing the body relaxing, as if suspended by a string from the top of the head. Then we “smile from the heart” by thinking of something that conjures that feeling.

It’s lovely, I think, that what most often evokes my smile is Grandson #1, with whom my heart is tied because I held him and smelled the heaven on his skin moments after he arrived on earth. Also because he and his Mommy needed me so much in the first days and months after his birth. I spent every day caring for him while my daughter tried to rest and recuperate; her exhaustion stemmed first from an unplanned C-section, and second from a colicky newborn who would not sleep nor be comforted and who cried incessantly. And threw up everything he ate. Despite my own pain and fatigue, God gave me the strength and patience to hold and soothe and love that baby boy. I cherish him, and he expresses often that I’m one of his favorites.

Something happened as he neared five, which I feared it would. He doesn’t want to kiss or hug so much any more, and he’s silly instead of sweet most of the time. He’s always been willful, but now he’s exerting his independence like a little boy instead of a toddler. He makes annoying sounds with his mouth, enjoys saying gross and nonsensical words, and when a 5-year-old can’t stay on task, it’s harder to be patient than it is with a 2-, 3- or even 4-year-old.

However! There is yet a vestige of my baby-buddy, and I do think it will remain solid though hidden under layers of boyhood when it will be socially unacceptable to let on that he likes any adult (oh, must we really?). My daughter had a special relationship with her Gramma – the one who tended her while Husby and I were in Hawaii, and our darling daughter told Gramma she didn’t have to mind her because she wasn’t her mom, oh horrors. Once Daughter outgrew her Terribles (they extended well beyond the Twos), she formed a sweet relationship with her Gramma, who was ever patient and forgiving. This probably factors into the reason Daughter nurtures the bond between Grandson and me.

She came over a couple of days ago to pick up an old school desk someone gave us when the kids were young, and which they used until their knees wouldn’t fit beneath the rounded bottom any longer. 

She made the difficult decision to home-school Grandson, and she wanted the desk for his “classroom.” Husby hauled the desk down from the attic and dusted it off, then we all played in the pool for a while, where Grandson splashed in my face every time I got close, kicked me in the ribs, and was that squealing kid in the pool that neighbors at the other end of the street could hear. He unhappily got out of the pool when time was up, then Daughter piled Grandson and Desk into the van and headed home to set up the classroom. She called me that night just to tell me this:

“I asked C today what was the best thing about his day. He said, ‘Going to Honey’s house.' Then I asked him what was his least favorite thing, and he said, ‘Leaving Honey’s house.’” Smile for today!