I remember the first time I saw a ying yang symbol: It was on a piece of jewellery in one of those ‘hippy’ markets in central London. I can’t remember if it was by the church at St Martin’s in the Fields, or Camden Lock. I was absolutely captivated by it. I was a teenager at the time, living in a suburb of London, which in those days was terribly conservative; even the one Italian restaurant in the high street was thought exotic. It’s funny to think now that I didn’t know what the symbol stood for. The pendant, on a strip of leather, was displayed among the tattooed skulls, Celtic crosses, dolphins, onyx, turquoise and other jumble of designs laid out on a table. No doubt many of them symbolised things I knew nothing about either, but I knew I had to have that one. It just felt right: like coming home.
The yin yang symbol so simply and powerfully describes everything that happens, everything that exists, after the big bang. In my previous blog, ‘Man stands between heaven and earth’ I wrote about the concept of qi being the something that came from nothing after the big bang. Yin and yang describes what it did… what it does, afterwards.
The idea of qi is ancient, and can be found in the earliest classical Chinese medical texts. These texts form the basis of Chinese and other Asian cultures, just as religious texts form the foundation of Western and Middle Eastern. It is hard to separate the doctrines, imagery, metaphor and ideas that come from these influences. The Japanese, for instance, greet each other by saying Ogenki desu ka? – meaning, ‘How is your original qi? Here in the UK, we say ‘Bless you’ after someone sneezes. Yes, we were taught in school that the saying was adopted during the bubonic plague of the 6th century, but it also speaks of a culture that believes in the possibility of a god that bestows blessings. Even before the medical texts were written ancient literature referred to qi as that which arose at the beginning and from which all things derive. I just love that the wisdom and beliefs that arose separately in eastern and western philosophies/religions come together to provide a unified understanding of the whole. Birch and Felt neatly sum this up, ‘If God is the creative agent in Western cosmology, qi is the medium of creation in Eastern cosmology’ (1). And of course, the leading edge of modern physics and cosmology are investigating similar things: Einstein’s famous equation E=MC2, describes the mutability of matter, which under the right conditions transforms to energy and vice versa, and in my previous blog, I discussed the Higg’s boson field, which could be said to describe universal consciousness.
In the Yin Yang symbol, we see the seed of one in the other. Yin is the black side, which symbolises inactivity, whilst yang the active. It can describe all opposites; dark/light; cold/hot; passive/assertive; winter/summer; sad/happy; down/up; heavy/light; female/male; interior/exterior; receding/expanding. In fact, the universe can be thought of as binary, in the sense that nothing exists without it’s opposite. The genius and simplicity of the ying yang symbol are the seeds of the opposite contained within the other, which expresses the idea that nothing is fixed: everything has the potential to change into something else, and indeed, that change is inevitable. The I Ching, the ‘Book of Changes’ is over 3,000 years old, and considered to be the oldest of the Chinese classics. 
Interpreted by Daoist philosophers it is a book that teaches how to recognise and embrace change in order to follow the Dao: the way, or path. It is commonly used as a book of divination, similar to Tarot card readings, and, if you have a good translation and interpretation, is a book of wonderful wisdom. The book has as at its heart the idea that in order to live a healthy life we should live by the concept of ‘wu wei ,‘ literally translated as ‘not doing’, but meaning the path of least effort to cause action. We see this concept beautifully executed in martial arts where combatants go with the flow of their opponent’s movements rather than fighting against them.
Change should happen appropriately and naturally: winter should turn into spring, hot things cool down; full stomachs become empty. In acupuncture we look for the smooth flow of qi to carry out appropriate actions in the body, and its timely transformation. Blocks to the smooth flow of qi cause sluggish physiological systems, resulting in damp, phlegm, heat, dryness, toxicity, cold. We also classify the body in terms of its yin and yang aspects. The heavy organs are yin, whilst the lightest yang aspects are the Shen (spirit). In between are the blood and bodily fluids. These aspects can be sub-categorised, so the yin organs are the solids ones, like the Liver, whilst the hollow ones are yang, like the Stomach. We look to nourish the Blood, as Blood roots the qi. There is a saying that the Blood is the mother of qi and qi moves Blood. This indicates the interdependence of the two: Blood must contain good nourishment at the levels of body, mind and spirit, in order to root and contain the qi. There are different qualities of qi that carry out bodily processes, but also governs mental acuity and stable emotions. We know that if we haven’t eaten or are unwell, we can feel light headed and scattered mentally.
In terms of Chinese numerology, so far I have covered the one – qi, now we have the two – yin and yang, the three is – heaven, man and earth. The four is the directions: north, south east, west, and the subject of my next blog is the five, the elements Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal and Water.
(1) Stephen Birch, Robert Felt, 1999, Understanding Acupuncture. Churchill Livingstone, London
Fire Horse Rising 