Office of the Dead by Brother Bernard Seif - HTML preview

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Chapter 20

 

Later that same day, Rob Williams sat on a well worn orange velour couch, surrounded by books, audio-tapes, CDs, and other materials related to spirituality and healing which people are able to purchase there as a tools to support them on their healing journeys. The scene was the waiting room of the white mobile home, which served as office and waiting area for Abbot Francis’ practice. The community had long outgrown the quarters they occupied and did everything they could to stretch their meager space—which was really quite large relative to what people in some parts of the world have. Abbot Francis knew that someone was in the waiting room because a “beep” sounded in his office every time the door was opened and closed. This electronic convenience was tied into a burglar alarm that the doctor’s brother had installed when the vintage mobile home was first purchased.

The Chinese medicine man electronically “saved” the work he was doing on the computer, opened the door, and invited Rob into his office—a room about three times as large as the waiting room, and filled with furniture, Chinese medicinal herbs, a treatment table, Chinese meridian wall charts, computer, fax, desk, filing cabinet--not to mention several hundred books on clinical psychology and Chinese medicine. Most of the more spiritual books were stored in the monastery library, available for all to use. Francis had clearly outgrown this space as well.

Some of the doctor’s licenses and certificates were hung on the wall. The law of the Commonwealth of Pennsylvania required that his license be publicly displayed, and the Federal government mandated that the credential certifying that he was a Medicare provider be hung on the wall as well. His credentials from the masters that Francis studied with were filed away as precious treasures. The graphic display of the monk’s diploma from the Institute of Chinese Herbology in Oakland, California, was a nice blend of East and West, so Francis hung that one up as well. It had taken lots of hard work to earn his credential in Chinese medicinal herbs, but it was well worth it since that educational experience wove together so much of what Francis had previously learned. It helped him to think more like a Chinese healer, it gave him the deeper blueprint, and it immersed him in Eastern thought. It was difficult to break away from the Western way of looking at health and illness but he had done so, still utilizing the power of Western medicine when that seemed appropriate. Use whatever works was his philosophy, and respect it all as part of a greater whole.

Patient and doctor sat in matching burgundy chairs given to the community by a former patient. The abbot had already studied the discharge summary sent to him by Dr. Angel Carlo, the osteopathic physician and gastroenterologist who treated Rob on an emergency basis at Lehigh Valley Hospital in Allentown, Pennsylvania. Francis knew that seated before him was a person in intense physical, spiritual, and psychological pain; he was not yet sure which area dominated. After establishing rapport by conversing with the young man for a while, Francis asked him to lie on his back on the teal vinyl treatment table, over which the doctor could view his meridian wall charts easily.

Most of the information on the charts was securely placed in the memory bank of his head, but once in a great while, there was a fine detail of information, a small point along a particular meridian pathway perhaps, which the charts could help Francis find easily. The charts evoked fond memories of the person who gave them to him--Madam Doctor Feng Lida--a famous medical qigong doctor and researcher at the Chinese Navy Hospital where Francis had studied. A qigong master in the hills of China healed her mother many years ago when Western medicine was not able to help very much. Madam Feng Lida focused her career on medical qigong after that. Francis had dubbed her “Grandma Qi” because she was of a grandmotherly age and still bursting with life. Her brilliant smile and loving manner were probably just as healing as her Chinese medical treatments. She specialized in immunology; Francis worked more with how the psychological aspects of genuine physical disorders helped or hindered the healing process.

Abbot Francis began observing Rob clinically as soon as he opened his office door. There was a washed-out listlessness in the patient’s deportment and skin color, and his breathing was shallow. He asked Rob to open his mouth up and to stick out his tongue. Francis looked at Rob’s tongue and observed how pale it was and the white coating or “moss” covering it, both of which indicated a “deficiency syndrome”--a lack of qi--the vital life force. He now took Rob’s pulses--all twelve of them. The abbot held one hand near an organ and his other hand touched a finger or toe that related to that organ and the meridian channel through which the qi flowed to and from the given organ. The pulses for the lungs and large intestine were very weak indeed, suggesting deficiency syndrome once again.

“Do you sometimes have difficulty catching your breath, Rob?”

“Yes, Abbot Francis, I feel some constriction in my chest, especially when I am emotionally upset. How could you know that?”

“The twelve meridians are all paired in sets of two, the two associated organs working together to help each other, like yin and yang. The meridians that control the qi or life force of the lungs and large intestine are a related pair. If one of them is imbalanced in some way, it is probable that the other one is as well. Both lung and large intestine meridians are weak in your case. I also noticed that your skin is a little dry and scaly. It doesn’t have a fresh pink look, which would be a much healthier situation for you. The skin is the tissue related to the element that the lung and large intestine are also under, namely the ‘Earth element.’

“We talk about five different but related elements in Chinese medicine. These include: Fire, Earth, Air/Metal, Water, and Wood. Westerners would probably better understand these elements if they were simply called ‘energies’ or ‘movements’ since that is what they really are and what they really do. Some doctors, masters, and even ancient texts use only one name for the Air/Metal element—calling it either ‘Air’ or ‘Metal.’ I use both names so that everyone I teach is ‘on the same page’ and does not get confused. The history behind the double name is not important for our purposes just now. You probably have enough new information swimming around in your head as it is.

“Anyway, each element, along with each of its associated organs, has a unique vibration, something like the way cardiac muscle is unique from other muscles in the body, or like the various types of human cells. The area of weakness or deficiency for you is in the Air/Metal element. Some imbalances, called ‘disorders’ for Westerners, are a product of excess qi in an area or organ; others are the result of too little or deficient qi, which is your case.”

“I’m following you fairly well, Abbot Francis, but these concepts feel somewhat foreign to me and are tying my brain up in knots a little.”

“That’s very understandable Rob. When you think about it, however, things are only ‘foreign’ because we have not been exposed to them before. Once we learn about them, they become recognizable and we become more comfortable with them,” responded the caregiver.

The abbot palpated the lower abdomen of his patient with practiced movements, using his hands as a Western doctor would use an electronic instrument to measure something about a patient, perhaps his or her brain waves. He then gently pushed in five places on and around the navel with the heal of the palm of his hand, one location for each of the five elements. The area representing Air/Metal was the weakest to his touch, sinking down under the pressure of his hand.

“That is just another diagnostic test and it confirms observations and my reading of your pulses, Rob. The lower abdominal area, which I just pressed upon with my hands, is a very important place in the Chinese view of things. It is called the ‘Dan Tien.’ This part of the body is considered to be the center of the human person, the place where a limitless amount of qi can be stored. People who practice yoga, by the way, call this general area the ‘hara.’ Palpating the Dan Tien the way I did told me a great deal about the imbalances within you. We all have some imbalances, even if they are just the result of the waxing and waning of the five elements within and around us throughout the day and night.

“You did not even flinch when I pressed into your abdominal area, if you did recoil at palpation, it would suggest an excess condition rather than a deficiency condition, which can actually feel better when palpated, as if a void is being filled in.

“Enough with the lecture. I will now give you a medical qigong treatment in order to tonify or strengthen your Air/Metal element and the organs and tissue related to that element, namely the lungs, large intestine, and skin. More simply put, I will ask God to send universal qi through me and into you—something like a qi transfusion. In the process I will be using my ‘mind will’ as the Chinese call it, or intent, to cleanse the old or contaminated qi out of you so that the fresh qi can enter in easily. The Chinese sometimes call this contaminated or stagnant qi ‘evil qi.’ First I will loosen up your physical body a little so that your ‘qi body,’ as we call it, will be more open and responsive to the transition of qi which I will do after that.”

The abbot used the heals of the palms of the hands once again, this time gently to rock the arms, legs, and chest of his patient from side to side. After a little while he could feel a shift in Rob’s muscle tone, a muscular release occur throughout Rob’s being. Now that the physical body of the man on the treatment table was more relaxed, the doctor began pulling out what looked like imaginary strands of energy from the body of the patient, particularly in the area of the lungs and large intestine. Then he moved his left hand, palm down, in clockwise circles over those same organs. This flat palm movement allowed for a diffuse “spray” of qi from doctor to patient.

As the medical qigong treatment continued, the abbot pointed the first two fingers of his left hand, since he was left-handed and this was the most natural for him, toward the area of the lungs, while circling the bottom two fingers back toward his thumb so that the fourth finger and thumb created a circle. This ancient Chinese hand position is called “sword fingers” and is used to create a more laser-like beam of qi for cutting through contamination or for transmitting qi from the doctor to the patient in a more focused way than by using a flat palm. He concentrated on moving the life force of God through and into Rob, by “cutting through the evil qi” so that fresh and healthy qi could be received by the patient and also flow more easily. He spent a few minutes over each lung and then proceeded to the area of the large intestine.

Next, with the patient in the deeply relaxed state typical during such a treatment, the doctor placed his right hand above the lungs of the young man lying on the treatment table and took the thumb of the patient in his left hand and began transmitting qi along the meridian from the lungs to the thumb. He followed this by doing the same thing with the colon and index finger, again transmitting qi through the meridian. When he diagnosed this patient, Francis used only the left fingers and toes to read the pulses, which is appropriate when working with a male. Women are diagnosed on the right, men on the left. In treating Rob, however, Francis worked with the fingers and toes of both sides of the body encouraging openness and balance in the body, mind, and spirit.

Francis gave Rob a few minutes alone in the treatment room to rest while he left to wash his hands in the lavatory. When the doctor returned to his office, Rob was up and seated back in the chair he had occupied when the session began. The abbot asked the grieving father to stand up and showed him some moves with his hands and body meant to stimulate the flow of qi in the meridians related to the Air/Metal element, as well as throughout the entire body. The master moved his arms and legs in simple and graceful movements and asked Rob to stand next to him and practice what was demonstrated. Rob was a quick study. Doctor and patient stood next to one another and each person placed his right foot forward, and then they raised their cupped hands to the sky as if scooping water from the heavens. Finally, they moved their hands down over their heads and bodies as if bathing themselves in living water as they rocked back on to the left foot. The abbot gave Rob a paper handout with the qigong moves he had demonstrated and prescribed and checked them off for his patient on the paper.

“Visualize the color white when you practice these qigong movements, if you would Rob. Each element has a specific color associated with it. The color is a type of vibration that is believed to enhance the particular element needing tonification or strengthening. The color white is associated with the Air/Metal element. You can meditate on the color white as well. Just sit and think of a beautiful white light washing over you, especially in the area of your lungs and colon, and let it imaginatively saturate your skin as well. Francis next prescribed some Chinese medicinal herbal formulas, the first of which was called Chen Li Pills and were made up of milkvetch root, relative root, angelica (tangkuie) root, white peony root, and costus root.

“Please take one capful, sixty-five pills, three times a day Rob.”

“Wow, Abbot Francis, that sounds like a lot of medicine.”

“The pills are purposely made small, like little honey-baked bee-bees. That way the herbs in them can be metabolized better. Take them on an empty stomach when possible, so that they are not fighting with what you eat for entrance into your system. And this medicine is best taken with warm water. The Chinese believe that cold liquids are not good for digestion.”

“You’re the doctor, Doctor. I think I recognize the word ‘tangkuie.’ Don’t women take that to give them stamina or something?”

“That’s right, Rob, but that’s not the only use, or spelling, for tangkuie. The herb you are speaking about is what we called a ‘hematonic,’ that is, it strengthens the blood. Thus, it is very helpful for women in relationship to their monthly cycles, but men can take it as well. The Chen Li Pills that I have prescribed for you have it in because tangkuie will cooperate with other herbs in that formula in order to balance and strengthen you, especially in the intestinal area. Chinese medicinal herbs are almost never used individually. They are given in formulas created to bring balance to whatever might be, for example, too wet or too dry, too hot or too cold. It’s more complicated than that but I think you get the idea. More directly, the Chen Li Pills are a formula used to help with your irritable bowel syndrome.

“You may take this little red box of ‘Curing Pills’ with you also. In it you will find ten small vials, each individually boxed. Each vial contains seventy little pills. You can take a vial before, or with, any meal that you think might cause you some digestive difficulty, for example, when you first start eating solid food again. Also, if you feel your stomach becoming upset, take a vial of Curing Pills. Some companies are now dropping the ‘r’ from the word ‘curing’ and replacing it with an “l” because they don’t want to be out of compliance with American regulations by labeling something as curing. ‘Culing,’ with the ‘l’ in place of the ‘r’ turns the word into nonsense on one level, yet most Chinese people or folks astute in Chinese medicine know exactly what the package contains just by looking at that famous red cardboard box.”

“Hey, there’s quite a long and interesting list of ingredients here on the paper insert. I see why these things are called ‘formulas.’ Among other things Curing Pills contain tangkuie, which is in the Chen Li Pills also, magnolia bark, chrysanthemum flower, green tangerine peel, and peppermint. Looks like I’m getting a double dose of that hematonic you spoke of.”

“That’s right, Rob. There is a method to my madness. Everything in Chinese medicine is about patters and formulas—it all works together—and the five elements are a type of blue print creating a whole.”

“Speaking of the five elements, each element or energy has a psychological component to it. The Earth element, the one that is low in you, is related to sorrow. Too much sorrow and an imbalance can be created. Sorrow is a normal response to a loss, but when it remains too long the imbalance can become chronic and life can become very difficult indeed. Own your sorrow, Rob; please stop turning it into anger. Men are socialized to think that anger is a more acceptable emotion than sorrow, but all of the emotions have their places.”

“That sounds consistent with what Dr. Cooper is saying, Abbot Francis. I’ll do my very best to be honest with myself. I suppose we need wholeness within ourselves, as well as among people,” responded the patient.

Francis had never known a world without death in it. The conversation shifted to deeper and more psychological realms, and the doctor-patient, brother-brother, father-son pair (Rob was not sure what their relationship was at this point.) philosophized about how painful it is not to have the people we love in our lives, in this case Rob’s deceased little child, and possibly even Rob’s wife if they didn’t get their marital act together soon.

With all the force of the thunder of the drums that called the Buddhist monastic community on Lantau Island to prayer at three-thirty a.m., the “something” which had been tugging at the back of Francis’ mind finally came to consciousness. He had to act quickly.

Immediately after Rob made his next appointment and left the office, Francis rummaged through his trash can. That’s right, I emptied it. He rushed over to the main house and down into the garage. There stood four Rubbermaid trash containers. Now which one did I put my trash in?

It felt like a TV game show: trash can number one, number two, or number three, or number four? I just don’t remember. I suppose I’ll just start with trashcan number one and keep on moving.

Before long word had spread about the abbot’s “treasure hunt” and other community members helped him by rooting through the remaining three trash cans. They were looking for the anonymous note that Abbot Francis had received in the mail, and almost immediately threw away, the night before. Brother Benedict was the winner: “Here it is, here it is! What do I win?”

“Wonderful! Let’s see if we can find the envelope.”