Qigong in Durrës with Mystic Rose Studio – gentle movements, mindful breathing, and calmness for body and mind. Discover the art of moving meditation for inner transformation.

Tai Chi – tradita Yang

Yang is the most popular style of Tai Chi. It is the most widely known and practiced style around the world. The Yang form is characteristically smooth, with slow movements that help practitioners relax and feel the flow of energy within the body. The movements create a strong sense of freedom. Beautiful to watch and relaxing to perform, the Yang style is also lyrical in its motions. With its grace and its emphasis on relaxation and quiet internal energy, the Yang style attracts many students every year. The slow movements of the practice forms help beginners overcome tension and resistance, which can normally hinder their actions. By focusing on the slow flow of the movements, practitioners gain greater body awareness. This awareness later extends to the sensation of energy flow. Practitioners experience a strong sense of well-being and health through the practice of the Yang style.

Themeluesi i stilit Yang, Yang Lu Chan, fitoi pseudonimin “Yang the Invincible” për aftësitë e tij të jashtëzakonshme të arteve marciale. Yang jo vetëm që mundi kundërshtarët e tij, por fitoi betejat e tij pa i dëmtuar ata. Ndërsa disa sfidues mendonin vetëm për të fituar me goditje të forta ose ndonjë hile – Yang ushtroi një disiplinë të jashtëzakonshme në eleminimin me nder të kundërshtarëve të tij. Shkathtësia e tij tërhoqi vëmendjen e perandorit dhe Yang u shpërblye me punë, si mësues i arteve marciale të rojevë personale të perandorit – një nder i dhënë vetëm për artistin marcial më të mirë në Kinë. Përveç aftësive të tij në tai chi, Yang Lu Chan ishte gjithashtu një mësues shumë i talentuar. Me kalimin e viteve, shkolla Tai Chi prodhoi shumë praktikues të aftë. Studentët nuk ishin vetëm nga elita e perandorit, por përfshinin edhe jo-elitën. Studentët e tij dhe të tjerë vazhduan ta bëjnë stilin Yang të arritshëm për shumë njerëz. Cheng Man Ching, i cili studionte me nipin e Lu Chan (Yang Cheng Fu), ishte një nga mjeshtrat e parë që solli tai chi në Perëndim. Yang-style Tai Chi është forma më e njohur në botë, me miliona praktikues. Meqenëse familja Yang popullarizoi Tai Chi gjatë viteve 1800, forma është kaluar nga mësuesi te studenti në një traditë gojore, duke rezultuar në një larmi të gjerë në mënyrën e praktikimit të formës. Pavarësisht se në cilin version të formës që praktikoni, parimet thelbësore dhe struktura brenda lëvizjeve janë në thelb të njëjta.

Learning the Sequence

The Yang sequence is composed of around thirty-seven visible techniques and more than two hundred hidden techniques. It is practiced to improve the circulation of qi (energy) and enhance health, and it forms the foundation of all Taijiquan martial techniques. Typically, it takes from six months to three years to learn this sequence, depending on the instructor, the length of the sequence, the student’s talent, and most importantly, their commitment to practice. Once the sequence is learned, it usually takes another three years to achieve a level of calmness and relaxation and to master proper breath coordination. During practice, not only must your attention be aligned, but also your feelings, emotions, and mental state must be in harmony with the sequence. It is much like when musicians or dancers perform their art; their emotions and entire being must merge seamlessly into the performance.

It is recommended that a student focus on learning only a few movements at a time until they feel completely natural and comfortable. The next step is to learn and practice just the first part of the sequence until it can be performed effortlessly, with correct body posture and relaxed muscles. The calmer the body and mind, the more freely energy flows. This is the first stage, known as Body Regulation. Ultimately, if a student wishes to follow the traditional path, they can progress through the stages of Breath Regulation, Mind, Qi, and Spirit.

Energy

When practiced slowly, Tai Chi is a form of Qigong. The Chinese word for energy is “Qi.” It is important to understand that when we discuss Qi within the body, we are not referring to any mystical force or metaphor of any kind. Qi is real. Without delving into Western medical terminology, it should be understood that life energy circulates through the 100 trillion cells that make up our body. This energy in our body comes from the food we eat combined with the air we breathe through metabolic processes. Additionally, with each breath, a person inhales air, which is a gas made of molecules, which are made of atoms, which are energy. We also derive a portion of our body’s energy from the sun and the moon, and our body’s energy is influenced by radiation from our environment, both natural and artificial. In fact, the human body is a living bioelectromagnetic field.

When a person moves their body, the mind generates an electrical impulse through the spinal cord to the muscles. The intention to move first creates a wave in the brain—this is an electrical frequency usually between 1–20 Hz. The impulse is then transmitted throughout the body in a complex process that uses the body’s energy to facilitate movement. A typical modern way to measure this energy is with an EEG (electroencephalogram), which detects brain waves by measuring the speed at which neurons (nerve cells) fire in cycles per second. Alpha brain waves range between 7–12 Hz, which is associated with deep relaxation. The alpha range is also the base frequency of the Schumann Resonance, the vibrational frequency of the Earth’s electromagnetic field. When you are deeply calm, your alpha brain waves resonate in sympathy with the Earth’s EMF, strengthening the vibration.

Regardless of how you view the body’s energetic activity—from a chemical, spiritual, or purely mechanical perspective—understand that this energy within the body is the Qi we are referring to; Qi is not some separate, “special” type of energy. This has been widely misunderstood, sometimes due to students’ limited understanding of these concepts when Tai Chi first came to the West, and mainly because of cultural and language barriers. Do not continue searching for your energy while practicing. Understand that you are energy. You are not a human body experiencing a spirit; you are a spirit experiencing a human body. Thus, when you clearly understand a Tai Chi posture, your mind will generate the precise intent, and you will activate your body down to the fingertips and toes in the most efficient way.

Getting Started with Tai Chi

Getting started with learning Tai Chi may seem difficult because the traditional form can appear very long, and there are many details to learn. However, like any classical art—such as playing the violin or painting—you simply begin learning at your own pace. Once you have learned the movements, you can enjoy Tai Chi as a form of moving meditation, which will lead you deeper into discovering the energetic aspect of your being a truly mystical experience.

What is Tao? – It is what is, without a name, unspoken, simply what is. It contains everything: the trees and the stars, it contains you and me, the animals and the birds. It contains all that exists. It contains everything that ever was and everything that will be. Tao cannot be spoken because it contains everything—and no word can encompass it all. The purpose of a word is to indicate. The purpose of a word is to classify. A table is a table and not a chair, a chair is a chair and not a dog, and a dog is a dog and not a human. A word has meaning only because it has a specific boundary around it. It excludes everything outside it. It encompasses only a small part and excludes all of existence. Tao encompasses everything, excluding nothing. This is why Tao cannot be said. It can be shown but not spoken. Tao can be tasted, Tao can be experienced, but one condition must be met: you must be so simple as to have no ego. You must be so quiet as to have no sense of “I” within you.

Tao, indivisible and great, gives life to the two opposing principles of reality…

This is the fundamental Taoist approach: the One becomes Two—because only then can the play begin. The One must become Two, and the Two must be opposite each other; only then does the play start. Ancient Hindu texts say that God was alone and felt profoundly lonely. He decided to create “the Other.” This is why Hindus say that existence is LEELA, a play. God created the Other purely for amusement. Tao is One, but the moment it manifests, it must become Two. Manifestation must be dual: it cannot remain One; it must be Two, it must divide. It must become matter and consciousness, male and female, day and night, life and death. You will find these two principles everywhere. All life consists of these two principles, and behind them lies the One. If you remain entangled in these dualities and polar opposites, you stay in the world. But if you are wise, a little more prepared, and begin to look deeper, you will be amazed—these opposites are not truly opposites but complementary. And beyond the Two is a single energy: Tao.

TAO creates the two opposing principles of reality: darkness and light, Yin and Yang. From Yin comes the receptive, feminine principle; from Yang comes the creative, masculine principle.

In essence, polarities can be named male/female: masculine and feminine. This brings the concept closer to our human experience. We could call them negative and positive, but that would be a bit off. Calling them Yin and Yang, Shiva and Shakti, or man and woman makes the duality feel close to the heart – something we recognize. The man is drawn to the woman, the woman is drawn to the man, yet when they are together, they constantly struggle. They cannot exist separately, but they cannot fully exist together either. The pull is intense, and so is the push. When you are with your partner, you begin to think about being alone. You start to long for freedom, solitude, beauty, calmness, and everything that comes with being alone. When you are alone, you begin to feel lonely and desire the other, thinking of love, warmth, and connection. When you are alone, you want to be together; when you are together, you want to be alone.

The feminine principle (Yin) is receptive and supportive – it receives, appreciates, inspires, and creates space for energy to flow, while the masculine principle (Yang) is creative and active – it produces, builds, expresses, and releases its creative energy. According to this concept, both elements need each other: a woman (Yin) without a man (Yang) feels incomplete and empty, and life’s creative energy cannot fully manifest, whereas men (Yang) without the presence and responsiveness of a woman (Yin) cannot fully express their creativity, as their energy lacks inspiration and appreciation. This interplay is not only biological but deeply spiritual and cultural: poetry, art, and spiritual creativity often emerge from the relationship of two complementary principles. The woman functions as the “seed” that nourishes and inspires the man’s creativity, while the man’s creative action sustains and enlivens the woman’s receptivity and energy. Essentially, harmony and creativity arise from the union and balance of Yin and Yang, where both principles are indispensable and interdependent.

Receptivity and creativity are like the two wings of a bird. Flight into the unknown can only occur with both wings; with only one wing, the bird cannot go anywhere. Remember, creativity is no more valuable than receptivity – they are equal, completely equal. No wing, right or left, is greater than the other; they cannot be. They are equal. They are not the same, but they are equal. In fact, reality transcends both. Yin and Yang, the outer and the inner, are merely aspects, not the whole. Wholeness is bi-sexual; it is neither Yin nor Yang. Wholeness is trans-sexual; it is neither male nor female. So, on the surface, one may appear as a man and another as a woman, but the deeper you go, the more you realize that the deepest essence is neither.

People are usually extroverted, so they need introversion; this is the meaning of the symbol. People exist on the outer side—they are Yang. Yin is necessary for balance. Once balance occurs, neither Yang nor Yin is needed. Then you simply transcend both, and when you truly transcend both, you reach reality… which is neither of them. How can reality be male or female? And how can reality be divided into outer and inner? Reality is One. This door you see… does it lead inside or outside? If you are standing outside, it leads in; if you are standing inside, it leads out. So how would you define this door—inside or outside? You could call it an entrance, or a way out; from one side it is an entrance, from the other it is an exit—it depends on where you are. Because people are Yang, all meditations belong to Yin. People are active, external, losing their energy in the objective world, in the world of a thousand things. Therefore, meditation teaches them how to enter. Once you have entered inside, you learn that there is neither outside nor inside… then all divisions vanish.

How was the Tao Te Ching written? Lao Tzu lived for ninety years – in fact, he did nothing but live. He lived completely. Many times his disciples asked him to write, but he always said: “The Tao that can be spoken is not the true Tao; the truth that can be spoken becomes false immediately.” So he said nothing; he wrote nothing. Then, what did the disciples do with him? They lived with him, they moved with him, they simply absorbed his being. Being close to him, they tried to be open to him; being near him, they tried not to think of anything; being near him, they became increasingly silent. In that silence, he would reach them; he would go to them and knock on their doors.

For many years he refused to write anything or to say anything. This was his fundamental stance: the truth cannot be taught. The moment you say something about the truth, it is no longer true: the very act of saying falsifies it. You cannot teach it. At most, you can point to it, and this pointer must be your very being, your whole life; it cannot be conveyed through words. Lao Tzu lived in silence. He always avoided speaking about the truth he had realized and always rejected the idea that he should write it down for the generations to come. At the age of ninety, he left his disciples. He said goodbye to them and said: “Now I am going toward the mountains, in the direction of the Himalayas. I am going there to prepare for death. It is good to live among people, it is good to be in the world while living, but when one approaches death, it is good to pass into complete solitude, so that one may move toward the original source in purity and your solitude, uncontaminated by the world.”

The disciples felt very sad, but what could they do? They followed him for several hundred miles, but Lao Tzu convinced them to return. However, as he was crossing the border, a border guard stopped him. The guard was also a disciple. And the guard said, “If you do not write a book, I will not allow you to pass beyond the border. This is the one thing you must do for humanity. Write a book. This is a debt you must pay, otherwise I will not let you cross.” So for three days, Lao Tzu was held by his own disciple. It is remarkable. He was compelled – and thus this little book was born, Lao Tzu’s book, the TAO TE CHING. He had to write it because the disciple would not allow him to pass. And the disciple had authority, he could create trouble, so Lao Tzu was forced to write the book. He finished it in three days.

It is said that Confucius went to see Lao Tzu. Lao Tzu was old, Confucius was younger. Lao Tzu was almost unknown, while Confucius was famous. Kings and emperors called him to their courts; wise men sought his advice. He was the wisest man in China at that time. But he must have felt that his wisdom could be useful to others, yet he was not happy; he had not accomplished anything for himself. He had become an expert, perhaps useful to others, but not useful for himself. So he began a secret search to find someone who could help him. Ordinary wise people would not do this, because they came for his advice. Great scholars would not do this either; they came to ask him about their own problems. But there must be someone somewhere – life is vast. So he undertook a secret search.

He sent his disciples to find someone who could help him, and they came back with the information that there lived a man – no one knew his name – he was known as the Old Man. Lao Tzu would say “Old Man.” The word is not his name; no one knew his name. He was a man so unknown that no one knew when he was born, no one knew who his father was or who his mother was. He had lived ninety years, but he was known only to the rarest human minds.

Hearing the news that there was a man known as the Old Man, Confucius went to see him. When he met Lao Tzu, he could sense that he was a man of understanding, great intellectual integrity, sharp logical insight—a genius. He could feel that something was there, but he could not grasp it. In a vague, mysterious way, there was something; this man was not an ordinary person even though he appeared completely ordinary. Confucius asked, “What do you say about morality? What do you say about cultivating a good character?”—because he was a moralist and believed that cultivating a good character was the highest achievement.

Lao Tzu laughed and said, “Only if you are immoral does the question of morality arise. And only if you lack character do you think about character. A person with character is completely unaware that something like character exists. A person who lives morally does not know what the word ‘moral’ means. So, don’t be foolish! And don’t try to cultivate. Just be natural!” Confucius left. When he returned to his disciples, who were waiting outside under a tree, the disciples could not believe it. This man had gone to great emperors, and they had never seen any nervousness in him. And now he was trembling with cold sweat. They could not believe it—what had happened? What had Lao Tzu done to this man? They asked, and he said, “Wait a little. Let me compose myself. This man is dangerous.”

I have heard of large animals like elephants, and I know how they walk. I have heard of hidden animals in the sea, and I know how they swim. I have heard of great birds that fly thousands of miles away from the land, and I know how they fly. But this man is a dragon. No one knows how he walks. No one knows how he lives. No one knows how he flies; he is like an abyss. And this is the definition of a Master: if you approach him, many will be afraid, overcome by an unknown fear. It is said that Confucius never returned to Lao Tzu again.

The Tao that can be spoken is not the true Tao..

This is the first sentence of the book: “The Tao that can be spoken is not the true Tao.” This is the introduction of the book. It simply makes you cautious: now words will follow, but do not become a victim of words. Do not forget stillness. Do not forget that which cannot be communicated through language, through words. Tao can be communicated, but it can only be communicated from being to being. Why can the truth not be spoken? What is the difficulty? The truth cannot be spoken for many reasons. The first and most fundamental reason is: truth is always realized in silence. When your inner dialogue ceases, then it is realized. And what is realized in silence—how can it be spoken aloud? It is an experience. It is not a thought. If it were a thought that could be expressed, there would be no problem with it. No matter how complex a thought may be, there is always a way to express it.

Por e vërteta nuk mund të shprehet sepse arritja deri tek ajo është bëhet përmes qetësisë, pa zë, pa menduar. Ju e arrini atë pa mendje, mendja bie. Dhe si mund të përdorni diçka që si kusht i domosdoshëm duhet të bjerë para se të arrihet e vërteta? Mendja nuk mund ta kuptojë, si mund ta shprehë mendja atë? Mos harroni këtë rregull: nëse mendja mund të kuptojë, mendja mund të shprehë; nëse mendja nuk mund të kuptojë, mendja nuk mund të shprehë asgjë. E gjithë gjuha është e kotë. E vërteta nuk mund të shprehet. Atëherë, çfarë kanë bërë të gjitha shkrimet? Atëherë çfarë po bën Lao Tsu? Atëherë, çfarë po bëjnë Upanishads? Të gjithë përpiqen të thonë diçka që nuk mund të thuhet me shpresën se mund të lindë një dëshirë tek ju që të dini për të. E vërteta nuk mund të thuhet, por me shumë përpjekje për ta thënë atë, një dëshirë mund të lindë tek ai që dëgjon për të ditur atë që nuk mund të shprehet. Një etje mund të provokohet. Etja është aty, duhet pak provokim. Tashmë keni etje – si mund të jetë ndryshe? Ju nuk jeni të lumtur, nuk jeni ekstatik – keni etje. Zemra juaj është një zjarr që digjet. Ju po kërkoni diçka që mund të shuajë etjen, por, duke mos gjetur ujin, duke mos gjetur burimin, ju përpiqeni të shtypni vetë etjen tuaj.

This is the only way; otherwise, it is too much, and you would not be able to live. So you suppress the thirst. A Master like Lao Tzu knows very well that the truth cannot be spoken, but the attempt to speak it will provoke something, it will bring to the surface the suppressed thirst within you. For example, we might say something about light to a blind person, fully knowing that it is impossible to communicate anything about light to them, because they have no experience of it. But something can be said about light – theories about light can be created. Even a blind person can become an expert in theories of light; in the entire science of light, they can become an expert – there is no problem with that – but they will never understand what light is. They can understand what light is made of. They can understand the physics of light, the chemistry of light; they can understand the poetry of light, but they will not comprehend the actuality of light, what it truly is. They will not understand the experience of light. So everything that is told to a blind person about light is only relative: it concerns light, but light itself cannot be communicated.

Something can be said about God, but God cannot be spoken of; something can be said about love, but love cannot be spoken of; because that “something” remains relative. It remains relative in relation to the listener, their understanding, their intellectual control, their training, their desire to comprehend. It remains relative – in relation to many things – but it can never become absolute experience. This is the first reason why the truth cannot be expressed.

The second reason why the truth cannot be expressed is because it is an experience. No experience can be fully communicated. If you have never known love, when someone says something about love, you will hear the words, but you will miss the meaning. The word exists in the dictionary. Even if you don’t understand, you can look it up in the dictionary and know what it means. But the meaning is within you. Meaning comes through experience. If you have loved someone, then you know the meaning of the word “love.” The literal meaning exists in the dictionary, in language, in grammar. But the meaning of the experience, the existential meaning, resides within you. If you have known the experience, immediately the word “love” is no longer empty; it contains something. If I tell you something, it is empty unless you bring your own experience to it. When your experience comes, that thing becomes significant; otherwise it remains empty – a word, and nothing but a word.

How can the truth be expressed if you have never experienced it? Even in ordinary life, something unexperienced cannot truly be spoken. Only words are conveyed. An empty word will travel to you; you will hear it and think you understand because you know its literal meaning, but in reality, you will miss it. True, authentic understanding comes through existential experience. You must know it yourself, because there is no other way. There is no shortcut. The truth cannot be transferred. You cannot steal it, you cannot borrow it, you cannot buy it—there is simply no way. If you do not have it, you cannot possess it.

I CHING është ndoshta shtatë mijë vjet i vjetër. Askush nuk e di se kush e ka shkruar – sepse në Lindje nuk është e rëndësishme që emri i personit të jetë në libër, veçanërisht ata intuitivë, egot e të cilëve janë humbur. Në të vërtetë ata janë bërë të panjohur. Një mjeshtër i panjohur, një vizionar, e shkruajti librin jo sepse donte ta shkruante atë, por sepse ekzistenca donte që ai të shkruhej.

It is said that all knowledge of heaven and earth is contained in the sixty-four hexagrams of the I Ching. Is this true? If so, how can it be used??

The knowledge of heaven and earth is contained in everything, not just in the sixty-four hexagrams of the I Ching. Even in a small pebble on the road, all the knowledge of heaven and earth is contained; in a tiny blade of grass, all the knowledge of heaven and earth is contained; in everything – because every part of existence carries the whole within it. Even a drop of the sea is the entire sea – all the knowledge, all the being of the sea is contained in a single drop. You also contain the whole. Therefore, there is no need to go to the I Ching and the hexagrams; instead, go within, because ultimately the I Ching cannot tell you anything, as you will be the interpreter. If you read Tarot cards, the I Ching, or other methods, who will interpret them? You will be the interpreter. So in the end, everything depends on you.

If you are not awake, no I Ching can help you. And if you are awake, everything is a hexagram, and everything is the I Ching. So do not waste your time on other things: awaken. When you awaken, you will see the entire universe written everywhere. In every blade of grass, you will find the signature of the divine. And if you can understand a single blade of grass, you have understood everything, the roots and all. Therefore, do not deceive yourself. People deceive themselves in millions of ways. They waste their time in millions of ways, hoping that somehow they can enter the temple through a back door. There is no back door to the temple; only the front door exists. You will find many back doors, but they will not lead you to the inner altar.

"There are no back doors because existence is not hidden. Everything is so open, the secret is so open. Nothing is hidden; everything is open—you only need eyes to see it, awareness to read it, and skill to enjoy it. Everywhere, everything is an open secret; nothing is hidden in the first place. Existence is open; it is only you who are closed. And a closed mind works with the I Ching—what will you gain from it? Your reflections—you will see yourself in it, your unconscious will be mirrored in it. These methods are only mirrors. They reflect your unconscious—nothing more. They never give you anything new; they only reflect you. But you do not know yourself, so you think you have gained something new through them.

These are tricks. Everything is contained in everything. Even in the I Ching, the entire universe is contained. Such is existence. In every part, the total, the whole, is summarized. Wherever you move, you move within the whole, but this depends on your understanding of how you will read it. The problem is not with the I Chings, but with you and your understanding. Strive to grow. Do not waste your time on other things. Life is truly short, and much must be done. Do not deceive yourself by wandering around in vain.