Secrets of Your Cells: Discovering Your Body's Inner Intelligence (19 page)

Enjoy this softened space and ask your cells, your shaman, and the people in the circle with you: “Is there anything I need to know or do to help expand my life?” Relax and listen. Receive whatever comes to you. Those sitting in the circle with you may have messages to guide your journey. Take in the peace and thank your cells for all they do. Thank the wisdom guides in your circle. When you are ready, shake out your hands and feet and come back to being aware and alive in the present moment. Then put what you learned into physical action to anchor it.

REFLECTION

When we move our bodies we begin creating new patterns; our cellular threads and neuromuscular wiring weave and anchor a new experience. We break the strands that hold us to old habits. Next time you find yourself reacting in the same old unwanted way, break the attachment to that behavior through sound or movement. The key is to begin!

What do I need to let go of?

Where is there too much tension in my life?

Am I attached to ideas, people, or habits that hinder my maturation?

What will expand me?

What contracts me?

Where am I being too repetitive?

Into the fabric of our cells our experiences are woven and rewoven.

We change the weave and pattern depending on what attracts and holds our attention and intention.

We are always in a state of creation.

What do you choose?

Untie the knots!

Break old strings and attachment points!

Weave new patterns!

Stretching Our Limits

I am visiting a friend in Santa Fe who suggests we go to an ancient sacred ritual site where she has done many ceremonies. What a wonderful idea! The day is cold yet sunny, the sky bright with blue winter light.

We arrive at one of the rare unguarded gates to Bandelier National Monument. Only a few cars are parked there, and we soon realize why; all the national parks and monuments are closed. The federal government has run out of money and shut them down to save a few dollars.

It’s closed? How can this be? We have traveled all this way and want to pray there. I especially want to take photographs. I have snapped pictures of petroglyphs and pictographs in California and Arizona, and now is my chance to see what might await me at a sacred site in New Mexico. I have come to love investigating and documenting what our ancestors have left behind for us to learn from. In fact, I have been attempting to uncover a hidden language common to all cultures, human and otherwise.

My friend and I look at each other, then at the fence keeping us from our mission. The choice is obvious: climb over it! The people who belong to the few cars we see must have already done so.

We stroll up the entry path and begin a gentle climb upward. Then, after scampering over huge granite boulders, we come to a fork in the road—and a choice. Go up a ladder that has come into view, or head straight on the path and come down the ladder on our return. My fear of heights decides for me; if I go down it, I’ll have to
look
down. The very thought petrifies me.

Up we climb. When we get to the top and I feel the solid mesa beneath my feet, we hear a voice. “Come back! The park is closed! Bandelier is closed!”

It’s the park ranger, demanding that we leave the monument—
now!

I argue with him for a few minutes, putting off the inevitable, dreaded trip down the ladder. “We pay taxes,” I tell him. “This is our park, and we can visit it anytime. And we’re not doing any harm.”

“The park is closed! Come down now!”

Suddenly, for a moment, I step outside my fear and am swept with a feeling of tremendous loss. I feel the human pang of grief that comes from being exiled from sacred land. When I touch the earth at sacred sites I can sometimes sense the centuries-old spirit of life there, echoes from all the years of living, breeding, praying, playing, holding hands,
loving. When I stand on sacred ground, I can remember. To be separated from it breaks my heart.

My arguments have not worked, though, and we must descend. Terrified, I begin to follow my friend down the ladder. I feel like I’m undertaking a sacred journey, a quest—and in fact, I am. Halfway down the ladder, I reach into my backpack with trembling hands, pull out my camera, and document my journey.

Most importantly, though, and the reason I mention it in this chapter, is that the moment reminds me we have the power to
stretch. We all do.
Fear does not have to paralyze me; my cells and I can choose to
move.
This power is within you and your cells too.

We can all make the choice to recall what we already know deep in our souls: we have come here to do it right, to ignite the heart of what is sacred and divine in each of us. Barriers of mind, culture, dogma, or even karma may prevent us from remembering, but the push-pull of our cells, the intelligence that dwells there, does not forget.

Chapter 5

Energy–Sustain

There is vitality, a life force, energy, a quickening that is translated through you into action and because there is only one of you in all of time this expression is unique. And if you block it, it will never exist through any other medium and it will be lost. It is not your business to determine how good it is, nor how valuable, nor how it compares with other expressions. It is your business to keep it yours, clearly and directly, to keep the channel open.

— MARTHA GRAHAM

S
o far, our scientific focus has been on the physical nature of our cells. We’ve learned that these mobile message carriers chat endlessly among their trillions of fellow cells. We’ve seen how they speak through molecules and movement, by changing shape, and even through vibration. But what about energy? In this chapter, we will traverse a variety of energetic terrains: the molecular energy of our cells, the bigger picture of vital energy and life force, and our personal relationship with energy—how we invest and renew our resources.

First let’s consider how the view of our universe changed when Albert Einstein gave us the world’s most famous equation, E = mc
²
, where E = energy, m = mass (matter), and c = the speed of light measured in meters per second.
¹

What this famous equation tells us is that energy and matter (mass) are essentially interchangeable, different forms of the same thing. Matter becomes equal to energy only when it moves very, very fast. If matter could move fast enough, it could transform into energy—perhaps light energy. The equation also says that matter is packed full of energy.

For our trillions of cells to maintain themselves—and us—adequate molecules of energy must be available to them at all times. Where does this energy come from, and how do we manage it?

Defining Energy—More than Molecules

Scientists define energy as the ability to do work. It can be measured as heat, calories, joules, basal metabolic rate, and, in the cell, molecules of adenosine triphosphate. Physical energy has many forms: biological, chemical, thermal, electrical, nuclear, magnetic, and even quantum.

Energy, as we know, also encompasses the emotional realms—the energy of happiness, anger, passion, sadness, boredom, and enthusiasm. Energy also lies at the heart of the great Mysteries: the immeasurable life force, qi, or
prana;
love, soul, faith, and prayer. No matter what we call them, positive qualities of energy contribute to our well-being and joy for life. Diminished energy contributes to fatigue, depression, and low vitality.

As a biochemistry student, my first introduction to the concept of energy was learning how cells produce chemical energy through a very complicated sequence of events involving the breakdown of sugar into carbon dioxide and water. This process, taking place continuously, maintains the health and repair of our cellular sanctuaries.

Years after I gained an understanding about our cells’ molecular energy production, I began teaching people stress management. It was then that I gained a deeper understanding that energy pervades who
we are and what we do, mind and body, in microcosm and in macrocosm, from cell to soul. We are “energy beings” who need to know how to manage our personal energy and our global resources. When we develop awareness of the energetic forces within and around us, we can discover what drains us and what sustains us. And this gives us ample choice in how to wisely invest our own energy.

Some of my most personally meaningful explorations into energy came about when I was ill and seeking to understand the nature of healing. Almost every healing tradition I studied in my quest to get better came down to energy at its core: Chinese medicine, Reiki, hands-on healing, yoga, massage, chiropractic, indigenous practices, and more. In all of these healing practices, it was not molecular energy that was discussed; rather, it was an invisible force flowing through and around our bodies. This energetic force goes by many different names—
qi, kundalini, prana, kupuri,
and
num,
to name a few—yet all describe the same invisible power.

Qi
(or
chi
) is the term used by traditional Chinese medicine (TCM) to describe the energy flowing through our bodies and everything else.
²
According to TCM, in the human body energy runs in channels called meridians, and disease occurs when energy stagnates or is thrown out of balance. Acupuncture is one way qi energy can be balanced; another is the practice of qigong. When I was first exposed to the notion of qi, it was just one more elusive concept to me, an imaginary quality whose existence I doubted—until I studied with a qigong master. After a few practice sessions, qi was no longer an obscure notion: I could
feel
it!

Qigong
means “cultivating qi energy.” It is a basic component of TCM, and in China where it originated, there are actually qigong doctors who specialize in teaching their students—they do not call them patients—these healing practices. Said to have originated in ancient shamanic dance, qigong also provided the foundation for tai chi. Its practice can reward us with a tangible experience of qi and the improved health that results. I attribute the fact that I have not had the flu in more than a decade to my daily practice of qigong.

According to TCM, the areas of the body where qi is closest to the surface are called gates; on the palm is the
laogong
gate or point. This is the principal point for emitting qi. It was here in the palms of my hands where I first felt a force that was different from my pulse, my breathing, or my beating heart. From our hands or the hands of others may be our first experience of the elusive invisible energy. And now I would like you to be able to have this experience. By the way, this is an especially good practice for skeptics!