Connecting the Dots Connecting the Dots
Breathe In, Wellbeing

Connecting the Dots

The Chinese Meridian System
Monika Waraxa
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time 7 minutes

Traditional Chinese medicine views the human body, soul and mind as a unity, and endeavours to keep them in harmony. The key to ensuring the proper functioning of this holistically understood system is the control of meridians – a network of channels through which the vital energy, called qi, flows. Working with this energy map of the human body enables us to make whole again what has been broken apart.

The Yellow Emperor went wandering

To the north of the Red Water

To the Kwan Lun mountain. He looked around

Over the edge of the world. On the way home

He lost his night-colored pearl.

He sent out Science to seek his pearl, and got

nothing.

He sent Analysis to look for his pearl, and got

nothing.

He sent out Logic to look for his pearl, and got

nothing

Then he asked Nothingness, and Nothingness

had it!

The Yellow Emperor said:

“Strange indeed: Nothingness

Who was not sent

Who did no work to find it

H

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Illustration by Marian Eile, from Przekrój archives
Wellbeing

The Rhythm of the Night

How Music Can Help with Insomnia
Enis Yucekoralp

“Even asleep we partake in the becoming of the world,” to utter the echo in Czesław Miłosz’s poem “A Magic Mountain.” Lying awake at night, I have sometimes found myself turning this idea over in my head. Like millions of slumberless souls, I have suffered with regular bouts of insomnia, which, in my case, were triggered by overworking, psychological pressure, and obsessive thoughts. Insomniac sleep deprivation provoked in me a profound anxiety, shades of paranoia, and the promise of depression. However, during one tempestuous summer a few years ago, I discovered an aural way to silence it.

Beleaguered in the stifling intensity of two interim jobs, I worked too much, too hard, and too long; stress-ridden and marooned in the city, I fell over the edge into a nightly insomnia. Like quicksand, the more I tried to sleep and ignore the freneticism of my racing thoughts, the harder it became to drift off—I couldn’t say how I partook in Miłosz’s becoming. I tried everything, from books on balmy midnight sleepwalks to friendly lectures on temperance. Nothing worked. A sleeping pill prescription was complicated by side-effect trepidation spawned by my state of nervous distress; my mental health suffered, and I feared a repeat of depressive episodes. In the past, I had used music to modulate my emotions, so I trialed a kind of self-directed musical hypnosis. Finally, here was something that hit a chord.

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