Waking Energy 7 Timeless Practices Designed to Reboot Your Body and Unleash Your Potential

feeling his grounded ease and observing his agelessness, this incredible radiance. He clearly
embodied his lifelong practice and projected an energy that was like truth itself.
Historically, qigong has been a movement school dominated by men. For thousands of years, it
was a kind of mysterious, esoteric secret society imbued with the tacit air of “invitation only,” whose
members were men in long black tunics, loose-fitting pants, and soft, black slippers, with their hair
pulled back in pigtails. It is reported that they never spoke a word and were able to make themselves
and inanimate objects levitate—most likely because they’d conserved their “talking chi” to such a
degree that lifting heavy objects with their eyes was standard fare. Qigong, and the softer martial arts
in general, although remarkably effective in creating vibrant wellness and slowing the aging process,
were never particularly inviting disciplines for women. As far as energy mastery was concerned,
only a minority of women ever felt welcomed into the chamber of secrets.
True to form, this weeklong workshop was attended predominantly by men. I was one of only five
women there, out of about sixty-plus people. Nonetheless, this did not deter me in my personal quest
to learn more. With the promise of superhuman skills within arm’s reach, visions of flying over
rooftops and leveling marauding groups of ten men at a time, my youthful warrior-goddess fantasies
were set aflame. I wanted to be one of the few, the proud, and the brave, to be shown the way to do
the covert work performed by the few martial arts heroines and female mystics before me and gain
access to the precious secrets of qigong, especially because it was not something most women did.
So aside from my deep admiration for Mantak Chia, the fact that the tradition said I was supposed to
be shut out drew me to it even more.
One of the first to introduce energy cultivation to the West in the late 1970s, Mantak Chia was a
world-renowned Taoist adept whose pioneering efforts in the United States brought qigong to the
masses. A veritable fountain of qigong history and teachings, he was there generously sharing the gifts
that he himself had inherited from older masters. Just being in his presence was a thrill. I was
enraptured from the moment he began to the moment of our good-bye. I was so moved, I did
something I had never done—like a nervous teenager or a groupie, I asked him to autograph my
notebook, which I cherish to this day.
Ticket to Ride
Mantak Chia was my passport to the energy universe. In his workshop, I was taken on an
extraordinary journey from the sublime to the ridiculous, along with my peers. We were the fortunate
recipients of the wisdom of the ages, secrets passed down from his masters, who were themselves
part of a legacy spanning thousands of years. I sat there reveling in the privilege as if I was living Lao
Tzu’s wise words in real time, holding me in a deeply familiar and comforting hypnotic embrace.
Then something shocking happened. Just when Master Chia was engaged in a profound message
about cultivating deep listening, honing the ability to tune in to the voices of our organs and our
body’s inner wisdom, and the incredible benefits of being present and using the mind in the most
focused way, he asked this powerful question: “If you can’t hear yourself, how are you going to hear
other people?” Seconds later, he belched loudly, right in the middle of his presentation. He then
started talking about how we each have a “delete” key in our brain and how vital it is to the