To the westerner, the concepts of Chi and Yin and Yang or the models of the Five Element series and the Bagua may initially seem alien. In much of the orient, there is a deep rooted, almost unspoken appreciation of these elements, which pervades almost every aspect of their lives. These qualities are often inherently understood in terms of understanding health, activity and assessing the weather. They are the cornerstone of martial arts, astrology and of course Feng Shui. An initial glance by westerners, for example, at the Japanese art of flower arranging (Ikebana), it would be tempting to simply imitate what the teacher had done. However, the more you delve into the subject, you realise it is all down to appreciating unity, balance, Yin and Yang and the Five Elements. In this chapter I will open up millions of fundamental principles that are the foundation of Feng Shui and encourage you to look, listen and make observations of examples of their characteristics in your daily life.

Chi
The Chinese call this expression of "energy" Chi or Qi, the Hindu call it "Prana", the Japanese call it "Ki" and in ancient Egypt they called it "Kaa" and in the English language, common terms are 'life force' or 'spirit'. How do we know it is present, how do we know it exists? What are the basic qualities of Ki? Given that it is invisible, intangible and changeable, it is not uncommon to associate Chi with breath or air or wind - bringing in the element of "Feng" to this subject of Feng Shui. If there are 2 elements in our world that we could observe, perceive or feel that are closely linked with this association of Chi, then I think they would be air and water.

If there is one quality within air that we can be naturally aware of, it must be the presence of oxygen. We all know what it feels like to take a bracing walk in the fresh air. We all know how it feels when we have exercised vigorously and our body is well oxygenated. Our Chi, our spirit, feels lively, sometimes excited and definitely invigorated. If we sit for a long time in a stuffy room or sleep in an unventilated room or work long hours in a poorly oxygenated environment, we all know the effect that it has on our Chi or our spirit. We are likely to feel tired, despondent, depressed and unenthusiastic. If there was one factor that linked the traditional practices of martial arts, meditation, Tai Chi or Chi Kung in the orient, it was always the first rule of these systems to acquire the skill of what they call "proper breathing". Techniques and skill came further down the line of importance in comparison with the discipline of "proper breathing". Remember too, that we can survive much longer without food or water than we can without air - only 3 or 4 minutes!

A more tangible way to appreciate the quality of Chi in our surroundings is to observe the nature of water - providing the "Shui" in Feng Shui. Rather like air, for water to be fresh, alive and stimulating, it needs to have plenty of oxygen within. Microscopically and chemically water is water (H20), however we all know there is a vast difference between the quality of water drawn from a mountain stream and that which may be found in a dark pond at the bottom of your garden! The one vital difference is the lack of Chi that sits in a stagnant pond or an old tin can at the bottom of your garden. Taking the example of the spring in the mountains and following the course of the stream on its way down to the plain, through lakes and eventually to the sea is one way of beginning to appreciate qualities of Chi that we can also observe in our lives and in our environment. Beginning with the spring, there is an imagery of brightness, lightness, newness, freshness, vigour and youth. As the water tumbles down the side of the hill in small tributaries, the Chi could be described as exploratory, fast, spontaneous and unharnessed. If the same water plunged down a waterfall, its Chi would be described as unstoppable, defiant, exhilarating and courageous. In pools and shallow areas, in eddies and on the small bays found beside the stream as it meanders toward the plains, these quieter, more still areas would reflect Chi that is primarily reflective, indecisive or slow. As the stream forms part of a major river on the plain, the Chi has now become much slower and the real spirit of the river at this stage is supportive of its local environment. It nurtures and replenishes the thirst of neighbouring fields, communities and livestock. In our landscape we also find ponds, whether they are isolated or form part of the meandering route of a small stream. The kind of Chi present can be anything from stagnant, dull and uninviting to reflective and almost broody.

We all have the capacity to sense and feed Chi. I am convinced that we do it all the time. If you haven't seen a friend for a long time, the minute you see them, you sense from their Chi whether they are happy, tired, anxious, fraught or distracted. How do we do this? We have this same capacity when we enter a new space for the first time. It is nothing tangible that you can see but simply a feeling. What you are picking up on is the Chi within the space. Basically, does it feel heavy and dark on one end of the spectrum or does it feel uplifting and energising? If you live in a 4 seasons climate and have ever flown to a warmer part of the world during the midwinter, you have been attracted to that bright Chi and you certainly feel it the minute the aircraft doors open. Conversely as you return to the cold and damp of winter, this heavier Chi hits you the minute you return home or worse, to face your first Monday back at work.

Japanese travelling monk
Several years ago, a visiting Japanese travelling monk who stayed with me asked if I could take him to visit the major "shrines" in London. I gave it a little thought and some planning and whisked him off to Westminster Abbey. After several minutes inside this ancient "shrine", he declared that he did not feel comfortable as there were too many "spirits" present. He felt uninspired within the space and as we left he pointed out that many of our ancestors and leaders were buried under the floor and that this, in his opinion, had also caused a darker atmosphere. I then took him to St Paul's Cathedral, which I had always found an inspiring space to sit quietly in the middle of the day on occasions. He did not wish to exit as quickly as he did at Westminster Abbey, however he did not find the uplifting Chi that he was looking for. Although there were no signs of ancestors buried under the floor, I did tell him later that there were several ancestors in the crypt! Finally, on my way home with him, we passed Wesleys Chapel in the City Road which is the most important shrine in the world regarding the methodist religion. I suggested we popped in. He absolutely loved the space and sat there beaming from ear to ear completely content! Later he said this was a happy shrine. He declared there were no ancestors buried here. He also sensed that the ceremonies that had taken place were of a more joyful nature and that he felt that the "worshippers" did plenty of chanting or singing. Certainly from my knowledge, the methodists are famous for their hymn singing.