When I seriously stepped into the world of QiGong, I didn’t begin with the usual path of forms, stances, and breath patterns. Instead, I dove headfirst into the formless—the inner terrain of energy, intention, and subtle awareness.

In hindsight, it was a bold move, maybe even reckless. But it taught me lessons I wouldn’t trade for anything.

Formless First: The Pros and Cons

Starting with formless practice freed me from the constraints of 3D mechanics. No joint angles, no choreography, no mirrors to correct posture—just raw energy work, unbound by the mental juggling of movement.

That gave me some profound advantages:

• Direct training in energy itself. I learned quickly that mind leads Qi. Wherever focus went, energy organized itself.

• Faster gains in sensitivity. Without the “noise” of physical movement, I could feel the field with greater clarity.

• Power and acuity. My energy body strengthened in leaps and bounds. Each month of practice felt like decades of progress compared to many contemporary practitioners.

But it wasn’t all sunshine. There were real drawbacks too:

• Neglect of my 3D vessel. Without form, there’s no channel for cultivated energy to integrate into the body. I often sat 5–6 hours a day in high vibrational states, accumulating spiritual merit at the expense of physical health. My organs held toxins with no outlet, I developed fat deposits, and I saw signs of physical decay. Paradoxically, as inner cultivation deepens, worldly attachments—including the body—begin to dissolve. Yet I had to face the truth: without a strong vessel, I couldn’t continue to cultivate.

• The need for initiation and guidance. Without a living teacher, it’s easy to drift into fantasy, stagnation, or dangerous procedures. Real progress requires transmission from someone who has walked the higher realms. The tragedy is that in many lineages, genuine attainment has long faded, leaving only dogmatic steps that often mislead or slow students by orders of magnitude.

• Regulation risks. Charging the body with high potential energy without fascia conductivity or physical training is risky. The nervous system can’t always keep up. You may end up over-amped, spacey, feverish—what I call an “akashic hangover.” Symptoms can include extreme detox, fatigue, shadow triggers, and physical or emotional instability. The law of rhythm applies here: if you shoot sky-high without a foundation, you may find yourself plummeting into shadow.

Integration: Returning to Form

Eventually, my journey looped me back into structure—back into Wei Gong, the outer forms.

And I realized something humbling: the body needs to be fed. Forms aren’t just choreography; they’re how we weave cultivated energy into tendons, expand breath capacity, and train the nervous system to carry more light.

This is how you avoid becoming what I jokingly call the “fat magician”—all energy, no embodiment. Real alchemy asks us to honor the vessel as much as the transformation inside.

Takeaway: Engine + Expression

Here’s what I’ve learned:

• If you start with formless practice, loop back into form to ground it. This is the fastest way to progress safely.

• If you start with forms, weave in Nei Gong early so they’re not empty choreography. Avoid over-practicing forms to the point of hollow repetition. Learn the big structures of movement, then immediately double back into internal cultivation. Once the inner knowing is alive, refine the external details again.

Either way, the path is the same: build the engine, then let the outer expression blossom.

That’s exactly what we train step by step in Art of Chi & Medical Qi Gong Training. We start by awakening the inner engine, then expand outward into expression and strength, so the body and spirit grow together.

Whenever you’re ready, the door is open.