The Qigong Practitioner's Secret and the Lesson of Relaxation
A story about the difference between muscular strength and inner energy, along with a profound lesson on the meditation posture: keeping the back straight while relaxing the entire body to attain inner peace.
The late afternoon sun streamed through the canopies of ancient trees, casting a gentle golden light over the temple courtyard. The chirping of birds mingled with the rustling of wind through the leaves, creating a serene symphony. In that space, the figure of a large, muscular foreign man hurrying along suddenly seemed out of place and coarse against the stillness around him.
He was John, a famous bodybuilder from America, always proud of his bulging muscles. He believed that physical strength was the master key to solving every problem. That day, absorbed in his smartphone, he walked straight into a small, thin elderly gentleman strolling leisurely through his qigong practice. The collision sent John sprawling to the ground, while the old man only wobbled slightly and then stood firm as a rock.
John flushed red with embarrassment and anger. He sprang up, brushed the dust from his clothes, and said in a challenging tone:
"Don't you have eyes? Why is it that I bumped into you, yet I'm the one who fell while you're still standing? What kind of magic are you using?"
The old man smiled kindly, his bright eyes filled with tolerance rather than any arrogance or contempt. He replied slowly:
"It isn't magic, young man. It is qigong. My body may be small, but it is light, supple, and connected with the breath. When you used stiff, forceful strength to collide, that force pushed back against you. As for me, I relaxed, and I dissolved the force through yielding."
John was stunned. He had never heard of the concept of relaxing in martial arts or in daily life. To him, strength meant tensing up, meant resisting. But the old man's words planted a seed of doubt in his heart about the way he had long been living. He began to explore meditative concentration and qigong, and he came to see that many practitioners, though advanced in years with muscles long weakened, remained clear in mind and supple in body, because they had accumulated a hidden reserve of inner energy through steady, even breathing.
After a few months of patient practice following the old man's advice, John changed completely. Not only did his body become more flexible, but his mind also shed its invisible tensions. He told his friends that each time he practiced the "flying bird" movement, he imagined his body dissolving into the vastness, breathing in, holding the breath, then breathing out gently. That stillness between the breaths restored his energy quickly, something that lifting heavy weights had never done.
But the story did not end with physical training. One day, John met an old friend, once an athlete at the peak of his career, who had abandoned his practice and fallen into depression and exhaustion. The friend looked at John with sunken eyes and a trembling voice:
"You look so different. You used to be strained and tense all the time. Now you... you're like a bird. Light yet steady. How did you do it?"
John smiled, placed a hand on his friend's shoulder, and led him to a quiet corner of the park. He guided his friend to sit down, crossing his legs with difficulty at first, then gradually with growing ease. John said softly:
"Try to relax. Don't try to keep your back straight by clenching your abdominal muscles or forcing your chest. Let the spine rise naturally, but let all the muscles release completely, from your fingers and toes to your shoulders and chest. Notice where you are still holding tension."
His friend closed his eyes and breathed deeply. After a while, he opened them, tears streaming down his cheeks:
"I can feel... my whole chest is constricting. I have been carrying this burden for ten years without knowing it. It hurts, but now that I am aware of it and relaxing, it is growing lighter."
In that moment, John realized that the technique of meditation is not merely a method of relaxation, but the art of facing oneself. Holding a dignified posture while relaxing the entire body teaches us a lesson in courage: daring to face reality by keeping the back straight, yet not resisting it with rigidity by relaxing. If we sit slumped, that is weakness, an escape. If we sit stiff and clenched, that is arrogance, strain. Only when we are both upright and relaxed do we find perfect balance.
The Meaning of the Story
The story emphasizes the importance of physical and mental health on the path of practicing meditative concentration. According to the Venerable Thích Chân Quang, practitioners need to eat nourishing food, sleep enough, and practice qigong, combining movement with the breath, in order to build a solid foundation of health and avoid malnutrition or exhaustion caused by extreme austerity. In particular, the technique of adjusting the body in meditation requires a delicate balance: holding a dignified posture with a straight back while relaxing every muscle. This relaxation is not weakness or collapse, but a state of wakefulness, ready to receive and dissolve the tensions within the mind, thereby drawing closer to enlightenment and to a life devoted to serving others.
Compiled from a dharma talk by the Venerable Thích Chân Quang.
AI-assisted translation from the Vietnamese original.
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