According to Chinese medicine, the chi energy (life force) of the body is ideally in continual motion meeting no resistance.
The nearest approach to this optimum may be when the body is afloat in water. Once we step out our fluid systems, soft tissues and bones must hold us up against gravity. Water, by contrast, offers buoyant and hydrostatic support. It dissolves boundaries and transmits vibrations that may enable us to settle into a steadier state. Just how this happens remains a mystery though.
In Taoist philosophy, the yielding quality of water is frequently used as a metaphor for human experience. Our bodies are made in large part of water, and perhaps they hold within them memories of all aspects of water experienced in our personal development and even in the evolution of life. Perhaps also, we can draw on this to restore a profound sense of flowing balance to our lives, both physically and psychologically.
Immersion and movement in warm water have allowed me to explore these possibilities. Having spent over a decade practicing aquatic bodywork, I know that the experience has affected how I experience all aspects of my life. This does not necessarily mean that things are easier but rather that there is a greater willingness to surrender to what is, and to accept the same in others.
The effects of both massage and movement are, in my experience, somehow amplified and more profound when carried out in warm water. Two modern aquatic massage and movement forms - Watsu and Ai Chi - were inspired by ancient oriental practices, rooted in the understanding of energy flow - Shiatsu and Tai Chi respectively. I'll start this section of my blog (aquatic modalities) by referencing them.
Watsu (water shiatsu) was developed at Harbin Hot Springs around 1980 by Harold Dull who had studied the creative principles of Zen shiatsu with Shizuto Masunaga. He found that they could be adapted to great effect in the water. The key concept of continuous support with the mother-hand takes on more serious meaning when the practitioner is responsible for keeping the receiver afloat, nose above water.
Though technique is important, equally so is to understand ‘being without doing’. The spontaneity of free-flow is the high-point for an experienced practitioner who has learned form and can let it go. Seeing the receiver as teacher, encourages the practitioner to work more intuitively and respectfully. “The true Zen of Watsu,” says Harold, “comes when you feel that same freedom with whomever you float around the pool”.
Masunaga emphasized stretching of the body’s meridians along which chi energy is considered to flow. In Watsu, it is not necessary to stretch meridian after meridian methodically , since all will get stretched many times during a session. Being stretched spontaneously in this way, also makes it more difficult for the recipient to mobilize habitual resistance, and shows them how to let go.
Acupressure points are taught in Watsu but practitioners are encouraged to use intuition in applying them. Also crucial is awareness of the breath and how this both influences aquatic biomechanics and provides an indicator of the receiver’s state. The restful emptiness at the bottom of the breath, and the rising up again, represent ‘a return to the Tao', a sense of universal connectedness that is a deeply healing aspect of Watsu.
One way in which beginners learn the basic flow of Watsu is through ‘Airsu’, standing on land with an imaginary partner in their arms and flowing through the moves as in Tai Chi. The Tai Chi principles of circularity, harmony and effortless effort - slow and light, tranquil yet alert - all apply. Tai Chi, and its water counterpart Ai Chi, are good practices to support the practice of aquatic bodywork.
Ai Chi (love energy) was developed in 1993 by Jun Konno, former coach of the Japanese swimming team, as a prelude to Watsu. It aimed to allow the receiver to relax, gain stability, coordinate breath and feel confidence in the giver. Its Tai Chi-like combination of deep breathing and slow, broad movements of arms, legs and torso is performed in shoulder-level warm water.
Although stability and confidence can be gained through repetition of a set form as in Tai Chi or Yoga, it is arguable that this could prevent us from being truly in our own bodies. Creative movement meditations both on land and in water encourage us to explore coordination of breath with the body’s spontaneous letting go. Using the natural breath as a guide to this spontaneous movement is helpful.
I practice both Ai Chi and Watsu as movement meditations. Being in the water often I have learned to let body, mind and spirit settle into the flow. After a while I let go of the formal movement patterns I have been taught and allow whatever my body asks for to be followed. Most exciting to me is being open to possibilities beyond anticipation both for myself and in working with others.
Once the form is thoroughly learned, a practitioner knows in their own body what to do at any given point, knows that wherever the flow takes them there will always be something to do that frees you from looking for what to do next and allows you to let go into the unknown. The receiver picks up on this and discovers a newfound freedom in their own movements and psyche.
Harold writes that Watsu’s movement and dance frees the body, its closeness and nurturing frees the heart and its play and spontaneity frees the mind. In this way, it is a truly holistic therapy. The best way to experience this is by experiencing it. If you have examples of how spontaneity came into a session you were receiving or giving, or of the free flow of chi energy, please comment and share below.
