Thousands of years ago, the sages of Oriental Medicine recorded their understanding of the Five Spirits. The Spirits together encompass the totality of our awareness, and both represent and support our soul’s journey through life. 

 When we are in touch with a Spirit, we experience its mental and physical gifts. But when we have lost touch with one (or more) of the Five Spirits, we experience the physical and psychological symptoms flowing from the loss of that Spirit. Thus our symptoms can show us which Spirit or Spirits are blocked in our lives. 

 Hun, the Spirit of Wood is the messenger of the soul’s purpose. It represents our greater soul’s vision of the purpose of our life, as distinct from the smaller visions of ego.  If we are not in touch with this grand vision, purpose, dream or quest, it manifests as signs and symptoms in the liver, from feelings of frustration to extreme conditions such as Blazing Liver Fire and Stagnant Liver Qi. 

 Shen, the Spirit of Fire awakens compassion. It relates directly to heart function and to relationships. It also relates to openness to guidance from Spirit. This Spirit is impeded by sentiment, pity, and colluding sympathy. Disorders such as heart and blood flow problems, palpitations, memory loss, sleep problems, anxiety and nervousness are all symptoms that result from loss of contact with the Spirit of Fire. 

 Yi, the Spirit of Earth engenders manifestation. It supports transformation of life experience into ideas and intentions.  What gets in the way of this is worry, obsessive thought, and self absorption. Signs and symptoms that result are eating disorders, muddled or excessive thinking, insufficient movement, over-nurturing of others to avoid the self, inability to implement ideas, and inability to assimilate, to digest, and to cope with life. 

 Po, the Spirit of Metal is the corporeal soul, and joins body and mind. It is the realm of the body unconscious, the storehouse of identity that is embedded in the muscles, tissues, fascia, nerves and organs of the body. Sorrow and the inability to let go impedes access to this Spirit. ‘You have to be cool with endings to be OK about the Now.’ Dysfunctions that follow from disconnection with Po are problems with the lungs, colon and skin, lumps and tumours, chronic tension, negativity towards others and psychosomatic symptoms. 

 Zhi, the Spirit of Water aligns purpose with will. It represents our vitality and our will. Both are drained by fear and desire, while nourishing our dedication and determination increases our connection to Zhi. Problems that arise from disconnection relate to the bladder and kidneys and to our bones. 

 Geoffrey presented us with one of his cases to illustrate the use and usefulness of this system. His client, a 30 year old woman suffered from PMT, dysmenorrhea, oedema and headaches. This is a case of Liver Qi Stagnation, and suggests loss of the Spirit of Wood. He offered her the perspective that her symptoms were related to loss of contact with the vision and purpose of her life. Inquiry into this then became an effective  part of her treatment. 

Sooner or later, many people whether young or old, often fall prey to some kind of back pain, either of a chronic or acute nature. Including accidents, injuries and trauma, the most common cause of this disorder in terms of Oriental Medicine is a depletion of the vital energy stored in the kidneys. Chronic back pain tends to be constitutionally related (inherited characteristics) and is treated differently to acute back pain, which is a product of more recently experienced challenges, such as an accident or injury. A back complaint suffered by an elite athlete, for example, might be a combination of both. It depends entirely on the individual. This is the benefit of approaching the problem through the application of an holistic treatment where each case is viewed in terms of a unique diagnostic profile. The holistic practitioner takes into account everything that is associated with the individual, including physical, mental, emotional and spiritual correspondences.

It is important to point out that from an energetic perspective, the kidneys regulate the functions of reproduction, growth, maturity and the process of decay. They also govern hearing, sustain the integrity of the bones and maintain normal urinary and genital functions. Typically, lower back pain as the most frequently experienced malady in this category, will be accompanied by signs and symptoms that involve the aforementioned functions regulated and governed by the kidneys. Furthermore, in as much as the back serves as a primary source of skeletal support, when under stress or pressure, this support system gives out either because it is exhausted or the constitutional character has been gradually weakened by the presenting stress factor. Physically, acupuncture and herbs tend to produce good results and support the body in a natural way.

Most importantly, it is comforting to know that the human drama, from birth to death, progresses according to specific cycles. As we get older, our constitutional strengths wane. This is a fact. In order to bolster them, strict and disciplined attention needs to be given to the maintenance of the vital energy. This is why in the orient, for example, so much emphasis is placed on the development of longevity through regular and specific exercise (e.g. Tai Chi), dietary practice, herbal medicines, as well as self-reflection and meditation.

“Do not try to fix anything.” This is what the Master taught us first. “Give everyone the freedom to explore their pain, without you getting in the road. Help them to see their situation in a new way.” This was his second instruction. “Then show them how to explore reality for themselves according to their abilities and inclinations.”

I am ready to insert the seventh needle. The master says it is better to use less rather than more. The patient is lying on a dirt floor covered by a blanket with her legs supported at the knees by cushions. She is an old woman now and stricken with pleurisy. Her head is cradled on a rolled towel. A silken pillow it is not, but she is comfortable. The people in this small village are accustomed to seeing the master’s apprentices at this time of the year. The chill
of winter has eased and spring is on the way.

The master makes sure he visits every house in the village. It is a well established custom. The locals enjoy meeting the familiar faces of his ‘helpers’ who they know are in training to ‘carry on’ the work of their teacher. The master has quite a reputation. He has visited this village far from the city for over twenty years.

Originally, he arrived there as an apprentice himself and participated in strengthening his own teacher’s vision of nourishing the people through service. They came to rely upon him for giving them direction when the hardship of life caused suffering and for spiritual succour when the challenges they faced seemed insurmountable. In short, the master was well loved by the townsfolk. Not surprisingly then, his apprentices were respected for their contribution to fulfill the master’s unspoken commitment to serve the people.

The moment is auspicious in the light of spiritual growth, as all moments are and I am grateful for the opportunity. The master is a stickler for keeping it simple. Nor is he fond of the pomp and carry-on that goes with the territory. Everybody adores his smile and they know he can see with his ears, hear with his eyes, breathe through his heels and touch the broken-hearted. They don’t know how he does these things but are content in the knowledge that he does them effortlessly. Thus, they know he is sincere, cultivated and highly refined just like his teacher.

The people in the village also know that the master is the pallbearer of a secret tradition. His responsibility is to pass on what he knows to his students so that the living teaching does not die.

The old woman lying on the floor is almost ashamed of herself. She feels as if she has let down the master and somehow disappointed him. He can see this so he smiles. It seems to be enough. Then he defers to me.

He has said on more than one occasion, to never use more than seven needles. He insists that it is a waste of both time and energy. It most certainly is a distraction for the patient. “The seventh needle often holds the balance of power,” he whispers. “Yet your destiny is beyond this!” That’s what I like about him and yet it is what infuriates some of the other students. He talks in riddles and is always unpredictable. “You must go further than your teacher!” he adds. “Mediocre doctors treat the symptoms. Skilled doctors treat the cause.” Then very softly he says, “A real doctor educates and teaches the way of life. In this there is neither coming nor going!”

Not many people know that the purpose of the needle is to connect the patient to spirit. The needle is only a tool. It cannot therefore be used to fix the problem for the patient, as if the problem is to be remedied by anyone or anything outside of the problem maker. This is difficult to really understand. Most practitioners do not know the secret of recovering wholeness. The bottom line is that without extracting the poison from a wound, the beginning of the healing process cannot take place.

Yet acupuncture is designed to correct energy imbalances including attitude problems and false perceptions. This is achieved through the assistance given and guidance orchestrated by, the practitioner. Then the patient can touch base with an energy field in spite of themselves! The skill of the practitioner is reflected by an ability to not interfere and yet set the scene for an allowance of
change.

She is lying on the floor, anticipating the ministrations to follow. This patient is a veteran. She has been treated many times before. The master is patiently watching me. I will do my best though the situation does bring with it a degree of trepidation. After we exchange pleasantries and briefly discuss the nature of her sorrow, she indicates that the time has come for action. I realise that this is the moment when the internal energy field must be adjusted. One might say it is much like a cowboy roping in a steer on the prairie, or a fisherman the net, on the ocean. The master calls it ‘waking the tiger’! “A tiger is a wild creature yet the essence of the beast is pure” he says. “Find the essence!”

“He who hesitates, is lost!” the old woman whispers as she waits for me to complete the task. I wonder about her. Is she the teacher or the patient? And what am I? The master always tells me to put the shoe on the other foot. I would call this moment tough. Not because of any difficulty per se, but because the greater the responsibility accepted by the patient, the less supervision is required by the practitioner.

Fortunately I have been trained to accept my role in the scheme of things and I know therefore that the ending of the ‘patient’ is also the point of transformation.

I think I can hear the master in the background despite the fact he is on the other side of the room. He is saying “One mistake makes for a big miss! Making mistakes, kills people. Not making mistakes is the basis for development.” I know the master is right. He has taught me well. I don’t panic. Very carefully, I make the insertion. Slowly, I connect with the needle and allow the transference to take place. The patient can feel it. The master can see it. I work with the needle until I am satisfied the flow of energy is harmonized.

The master then departs for a breath of fresh air. The patient is beginning to settle. I walk towards the open window and look out onto the vista. It is quite beautiful at this altitude. The clouds are floating high and low as if carpets riding on the waves of a blue ocean. The stillness here is as pervasive as the silence is deafening.

Then I turn to face the patient. Her eyes are closed and she is following my instructions. I have asked her to complete a contemplative exercise. “Imagine everything is on loan to you. Would this change the way you live your life?” She puts her attention on the spiritual eye and relaxes. It has begun!

I did not know then that the years would soon disappear in the blink of an eye. When the master died, I cried and mourned privately. The master’s time had come and gone. Yet I always have the sense that he is watching if only to make sure that I am fulfilling my responsibilities.

“We have a code you know and it is your duty to honour it.” I knew what he meant.

“Do not try to fix anything.” This is what the master taught us first. “Give everyone the freedom to explore their pain, without you getting in the way. Honour the process. Give the patient some respect. Help them to see their situation differently.” This was his second instruction. “Then show them how to explore reality for themselves according to their abilities and inclinations. When you are able to do this, write a book or go fishing! Before you go however, make sure you pass on what you have learned to those who are worthy.”