The Seasons of Life and the Breath of Energy
Life moves in seasons, just like nature. If we imagine a full cycle reaching 108 years, we can divide it into five phases: wood, fire, earth, metal, and water. The early years from birth to eight are like spring, a time of sprouting and growth, where everything is fresh and full of possibility. Then comes fire, from eight to thirty-three, when energy is strong, and the drive to build and become takes hold. After that, from thirty-three to fifty-eight, the earth phase settles in. The energy is no longer free, and effort is needed to maintain strength. The body no longer easily bounces back from late nights and indulgence.
At fifty-eight, the metal phase begins, marking the time of harvesting what has been sown. The weight of life becomes apparent. Energy, like everything else, must be maintained with care. Things fall—leaves, skin, even people. This is the time to begin cutting away what no longer serves, making space for what matters. From eighty-three onward, the water phase arrives, a time to prepare for eternity. Everything is given away, not just externally, but internally. Letting go becomes the lesson.
The breath carries us through these seasons, connecting each phase. The inhale fills the body, expanding in all six directions. The exhale releases, clearing space. Water rises, cooling the head, and fire falls, warming the stomach. This cycle of cooling and heating brings balance. The tongue touches the roof of the mouth, guiding moisture to keep the body fluid. When the brain dries up, thoughts become rigid. When moisture is present, clarity flows.
Breath can be regulated to strengthen energy. Box breathing follows a pattern: inhale, hold, exhale, hold. With each breath, cool energy rises up, and warmth is pressed downward. This exchange fuels the internal system, just as nature follows its course. The story of the first emperor reveals the nature of elements. The lungs, representing metal, and the liver, representing wood, behave differently when alive and when dead. At first, the liver sinks and the lungs float, but given time, metal falls and wood rises. The struggle exists only in life.
Breathing fills and expands. At the peak of inhalation, when no more air can be drawn in, the real work begins. Relaxation is found in effort. The body fills like a balloon, pushing beyond oxygen into something deeper. Energy builds when tension and ease exist together.
Thoughts pass like clouds. Observing them rather than clinging to them brings clarity. The mind may be filled with movement, but in the spaces between, stillness appears. Setting an intention anchors energy for the day ahead. Whatever word resonates—grace, emptiness, space—let it settle. The external world will keep moving, but within the movement, there are moments of quiet. Let them surface like light breaking through the cracks.