Category Archives: Metal Element

Webs of Autumn

This morning as I backed the car out of the garage, I noticed that a spider had built a web over the reversing camera. It made for a beautiful start to the journey. Truth is, spiders have built webs all over my car, and my shed, and my house. Spiders are more active in autumn. Their compound eyes detect the changing light as the angle of the sun drops lower. This is a signal to them to begin preparing for winter, eating more and mating.  I too respond to this low-slanting autumnal light which I call “cathedral light”. The light, beaming in long shafts and highlighting dust and pollens in the air, is reminiscent of light descending from high windows in churches and cathedrals. It turns my thoughts to things of spirit.

Going back to spiders, the amazing fineness and delicacy of their webs reflect the refinement and precision that are qualities of Metal, the Element of the season of autumn. When I think of the tissue of Lung, the yin organ of Metal, the image of a web comes to mind. The lung tissues are so fine and finely layered, that there are about 2,400 kilometres of airways in our two lungs and up to 500 million alveoli or air sacs. Fine webs indeed!

The lungs are the only yin organs that are open to the exterior, via the nose and mouth. Their delicate tissues are susceptible to invasion from the outside, whether it be from dust, pollen and pollutive particulates, or bacteria and viruses which enter the body via the lungs.

This brings me to an acupoint that is useful for protecting the lungs, and which is especially powerful in this Metal season of Autumn.

Lung 6 – Kongzui – Maximum Opening is another of the xi-cleft points that we’ve been studying over the past year. These points are known for treating acute conditions and pain along the channel, relieving stagnation in the organ, and treating conditions of the Blood.

Stagnation of the Lung can include phlegm, so this point is very useful for treating coughs and colds where phlegm accumulates in the lungs. It also addresses asthma, wheezing, chest pain, swelling or pain in the throat, and loss of voice.

The pathway of the Lung channel begins on the outside of the upper chest, rises to the clavicle, makes its way down the arm lateral to the biceps muscle, across the elbow, along the radial side of the inner forearm, through the pad of the thumb and ends at the radial side of the thumbnail. Pain in any of these areas, especially if it is of recent onset, can be treated with Lung 6. This includes things like pain the upper arm and difficulty raising the arm above the head, pain in the elbow, difficulty flexing and extending the fingers, and pain the thumb.

If we consider the psycho-emotional aspects of Lung, stagnation in the emotion of grief can be addressed by this point. This might arise from an inability to move on in one’s life after the loss of a significant person. Or it might be from a holding on to possessions by hoarding; holding on to grudges or resentments; or holding on to ideas and structures that are no longer working. In fact, when we are holding on to anything that is not in our best interests, Kongzui can serve us in letting go.

Breathing is an automatic function that draws air into the body and lets it out again. Oxygen in, carbon dioxide out. A smooth allowing. Letting come and letting go. If we can align our mind with this simple regularity; if we can be right there in the moment of each breath, nothing more than letting in and letting out, then we can live fully in the present which is the true reality of the web of Being.

Location of Lung 6

On the inner arm towards the thumb (radial) side, 7 cun above the wrist and 5 cun below the elbow. Find a point half-way between Lung 9 on the wrist and Lung 5 on the elbow. Go 1 cun above (proximal) from here to find Lung 6 in a noticeable depression.

Readers may have noticed that I’ve gone from Fire to Metal and skipped the Earth. Well spotted! I will address the Earth xi-cleft points later, in the transition between autumn and winter. ~ John

Endings

The autumn equinox in the southern hemisphere finds us deep into Autumn and the Metal Element. Their falling energies teach us about how to be true to ourselves in the face of endings.

This blog marks the completion of a cycle of 8 articles over the past year as I’ve marked the passing of two solstices, two equinoxes and the four cross-quarter days that lie between. It seems fitting that we end this series in the depth of the Metal Element which resonates with endings, with letting go, and with dying.

Many people find these subtle autumnal reminders troubling. Western cultures tend not to dwell upon the ends of things, particularly the end of life, preferring instead to focus on the yang, rising side of the cycle, on the explosive upward movement of Wood and the wide, expansive, proliferating energy of Fire.

And yet there can be an exquisite savouring of the Metal phase, with its clear, spacious nature. When all that is superfluous has dropped away, we are left with that which is essential, the distilled essence of things. Like appreciating and valuing a small measure of a fine old liqueur.

I am not far away from becoming a septuagenarian and like most others in my age group I can’t believe that number on the board. Still, the evidence is reflected in the mirror, and in the subtle ways the body is slowing down. I can no longer pretend otherwise: I am fast approaching, if not already in the Metal phase of my life.

Each life stage has its age appropriate activities, and we can map these through the Five Element model. Water is the period of life before conception (wherever it is that we come from), our 9 months in the womb, and infancy. This is a time of potential and patient waiting. Wood is the phase of rapid upward growth that occurs in childhood and adolescence, when we explore possibilities and push edges. Fire is the time of our adult maturity, our blossoming and flourishing. It is usually a busy time of career orientation and/or creating family. Earth is the phase of late maturity when we reap the fruits of our life, and transition into retirement to savour the harvest of our life’s work. The Metal phase is when we naturally reflect on what meaning we have distilled from our lives, on what it is to die, to end, to pass on from the world. We anticipate the next cycle and the movement back to the Water phase, the great unknown that beckons after we take our last breath.

Some, possibly many, find these reflections on death to be uncomfortable, morbid, not a topic for polite conversation. Certainly it is a consideration commonly postponed, pushed off into the long future, when we imagine we will have plenty of time at the nursing home to contemplate our demise; or maybe hope for a quick end so we won’t have to think about it at all.

And yet, in many traditions, contemplation of death is a regular part of spiritual practice. Buddhists in particular meditate throughout life on this inevitable event. Indeed, death is the most important thing about life. Death provides meaning and context to life.

I vividly remember these words of my teacher Hameed, his opening words of the Death and Dying Retreat:

“To die is to live. And to live is to die.’ (He proceeded to elaborate for 10 days!)

This profound thought really communicates the depth of Metal’s spiritual lesson: only by letting go of all that we hold on to, can we truly live the depth of a human life. We are given countless opportunities throughout life to let go of our attachments:  the loss of some prized object, the job we really wanted but didn’t get, a big financial loss, the end of a relationship, the death of a loved one, the loss of body function. Each loss is a little death, each a preparation, a training for the big death that will come, when we are called upon let go of it all.

Letting go does not mean abandoning our possessions or relationships. We don’t need to become wandering ascetics. Giving away all we own will not address our attachment to things. Abandoning our relationships does not change our inner relationship to others. Rather, letting go means allowing, surrendering, making space for everything that life brings us. It means living in the present moment, neither hanging on to a past that cannot be changed, nor holding on to ideas about what we imagine the future will be. It means dying to the past. Dying to the future. And living in the only place we have, the now.