To continue with the subject of ‘shen’, the theme of this years British Acupuncture Conference, the following is adapted from an article by Sandra Hill, previously published in Chinese Whispers.

THOUGHTS ON THE SHEN

We have problems in the West translating some of the most fundamental terms in Chinese medicine. And amongst those which cause the greatest difficulty are the so called ‘three treasures’ – jing (精), qi (氣) and shen (神). We tend to use their original Chinese (pin yin) form as we have no easy English equivalents. It is not surprising that these three key terms have caused so much difficulty to philosophical as well as medical translators, as their interdependence and inter-relationship illustrates the core differences between Eastern and Western concepts of life – addressing as they do the interaction, interdependence and the inseparable natures of matter and energy, body and mind.

Jing and qi remind us that matter and energy are a continuum. Condense qi and you have jing and form, refine jing and you have qi. We generally accept that qi is somewhat energetic in nature, but is jing anything other than a concentration of qi? And do we consider jing to be form or energy? Maybe it’s like the wave/particle conundrum of quantum physics, it depends who’s looking and why.

I like the idea of jing is as information patterning – that which allows the qi to condense into one thing rather than another. Tiger jing makes tigers. People jing makes people. My jing makes me me, and allows me to remain me however much I may change and transform.

But what about the shen? And is there anything tangible to be found in this most intangible of subjects? For as complex as we may find the meanings of jing and qi, with shen we are dealing not only with alien concepts but also with ideas that have changed according to context throughout the three millennia of Chinese written records. We have to move through the realms of the unspeakable, the unknowable, and on to modern day China, where for many years no such realms were allowed to exist.

The character is an early one – found on bronze inscriptions that date back as far as the Shang dynasty – back into the times of shamanism. It is a character made of two parts, the left signifies the manifestation of power from above and has been used since early times with the meaning of an altar. The right part represents an extension above and below. (cf Wieger’s Chinese Characters, based on the 2nd century CE etymological dictionary the Shuowen Jiezi.) In its early use the character conveys the sense of beneficial influence coming from above, and, as in all shamanic societies, these influences were sought and given pre-eminence. This kind of supplication is common to all peoples who live close to nature and depend on a balance of rain and sun for survival. The influences may be from nature or from the ancestors, and possibly from nature by way of the ancestors; the ancestors being best placed to intervene on behalf of the living.

In early textual occurrences, the term shen is often paired with gui, and while the shen are related to heaven (tian 天) the gui are related to earth (di 地). The shen tend to bring good fortune, the gui bad. In some contexts the gui may be seen as the kind of unhappy ghosts which hang around the living in order to feed their insatiable desires. To radiate the shen (shen ming 神 明) is to be free from desire.

While it’s common to see the shen as related to heaven, it is important to think of what the Chinese mean by this character tian, which can be translated as heaven, sky, but also as nature, that which is natural, the natural order of things. This brings us to another of those strange East/West dichotomies. Here heaven and nature are one, while Western thinking has often set them poles apart. In classical Chinese thought heaven relates to time, cyclical movement and change, often illustrated by the cycles of the seasons. Heaven is literally the movement of the sun through the sky making day and night, the movement of the constellations through their heavenly mansions making the seasons. It’s not where God lives or even where we are planning to go – though some of us might aim for a star.

So maybe the shen are the emissaries of the natural order. And if the jing allows me to be myself in my patterning, maybe the shen enable me to be closer to my true nature (xing 性).

Our ancient ancestors – and wherever we come from shamanism seems to be our common ancestry – made offerings to the spirits. They appointed priests and shaman to intercede on their behalf, to bring good fortune, good weather, good health. Sacrifices and offerings were made upon altars to bring down the beneficial influences of heaven. But the new religions suggested that our fate is in our own hands. And as the early teachings of Christianity showed that there was no need for priestly intercession, so the early Daoists provided a do it yourself guide to attracting the shen – by ‘sitting quietly and doing nothing’; following the Dao or the natural order of things with the attitude of non-interference with the way things are (wu wei 無 為).

The shen, it seems, like peace and quiet. They like a calm heart/mind (xin 心). They like a good quality of blood and jing or vital essences to anchor them in the body and prevent them from floating back up to heaven. In order to be penetrated by the shen, the essences must be refined and pure, and the aim of Daoist ‘inner cultivation’ is to allow the being to be penetrated by the shen – to become more ‘spirit-like’. Similarly acupuncture and herbal treatments act on the jing qi to re-establish the natural order and create an environment in which the spirits are able to dwell.

‘The body shelters life, qi is abundant, the spirits direct it. If one loses its position, all three will suffer.’ (Huainanzi chapter 1)

It is interesting in looking at a modern Chinese dictionary that most of the medical terms that include the character shen (神) are related to nervous system disorders, implying the very lack of calm and stability needed by the shen. Various acupuncture points allow the shen to be ‘settled’, ‘calmed’, ‘housed’. Both hun and shen, being yang in nature, require the rich blood of the liver and heart to keep them housed. The po on the other hand require the light and airy environment of the lung to stop their yin descent back to the earth.

But the shen are also that which is beyond this yin yang dualism:

‘That which yin yang cannot fathom, that is the shen’. (Xi zi, Commentary to the Yi Jing)

The shen always remain part of the One. They guide us back to the origin. The hun, being more attached to the body, can easily get lost, but the shen are never separated from the origin, they are the origin within us, and if they are not kept within the body can only go back to the pure light of consciousness. We read in both philosophical and medical texts of the shen ming – the clarity of consciousness: all that is in us which illuminates, makes aware, enlightens. This is the activity of the radiance of the spirits.

In peaceful calm, void and emptiness, authentic qi flows easily

Essences and spirits are kept within. How could illness arise? (Neijing Suwen chapter 1)