Saturday, May 18, 2019

Fung Your Way Into Spring, Part 3

Finishing up with Fung.

So far, we've covered the first five of the ten things you really want to know about before you dare set up camp. Knowledge of Fung Shway and chi-wrangling are important. They will keep your brain occupied and out of the way whenever you go camping.

So read on then, 'K?

6. Extend heavenward. This is also known as pitching a tent, or accomplishing erection. If you are not actually camping on top of those energy-releasing waters (preferred) but only near them (a distant second) at least face your tent toward water. If there is no water, advance two paces and urinate, but in buffalo country be prepared for thundering herds drawn to your salt. (Though after the first few tramplings you'll hardly even notice any more.)

7. Decorate. Wind chimes are great. Everybody loves wind chimes, and some of us need them, especially those with personality disorders. If your campground neighbors came in on Harleys, wind chimes will do them good, and eventually they will thank you. If not immediately, then certainly at some point during the subsequent murder trial. Be patient. Cooling your heels waiting for your next rebirth will give you lots of time to appreciate the clever wisdom of your deeds.

8. Illuminate. "We'll leave the light on for you" is more than an advertising slogan for a cheap-ass chain of dumpy motels — it's a recipe for remaining alive, assuming that you made it past the wind-chime phase. Not only leave the lights on, but set up a decent defense perimeter before retiring. At least. When things get dark, you can count on something creepy going on out there. You don't want that, and at times the High Chi needs a little help. A good 1.5 kw generator and a few flood lights are a good bet. And if you're going that far, why not throw up an electric fence too? The gentle clanging of your wind chimes will completely mask any putty-putt engine sounds and will put your neighbors at ease, as noted earlier. If not, you've got your sidearm. May the chi be with you.

9. Be a Mr/Ms TidyBowl. If there is one thing that chi hates, it's dust bunnies. Keep your campsite clean and uncluttered at all times. Bring a tape measure and lightweight carpenter's square (Now available in ultralight titanium!) for precision placement of all particulars. This will please the chi, which tends toward the anal at times. But hey. Also, shuffle all clutter to the inside of your tent. This includes excess shrubberies if your camp site is especially bushy, but do not uproot anything. Simply seduce your leafy friends in with treats and a gentle tone of voice. If you prove adept, you yourself may have to sleep outside, but the chi will probably look out for you. (Midnight nose pokes to the ear or anything biting into your face during the dark hours will of course indicate otherwise.)

10. Spiff up your chi before leaving. Sure, you can always leave a mess behind for someone else to deal with but it is much better to pick up after yourself. This creates positive chi for the next wave of campers. Pretend they deserve it.

The pros go for a ChiHome 2-in-1 Steam Vac with Microfiber Pads, but generally a simple trash bag and a number six goat-grooming comb will do. For especially tough situations you might need a portable, battery-powered chi straightener, but probably not. Take a practical approach. Simply replace any relocated shrubberies, sweep up errant shredded clothing and tattered food bags that evil spirits may have gotten into, collect loose detritus and used bandages, and then give the rest a quick once-over with your goat comb or chi straightener.

In case your campsite does need a more extensive cleaning, try this...

  • First up, Discharge & Drain. This procedure removes residual static chi voltage buildup. (If you see sparks shooting out anywhere, then be sure not to skip this step.) D&D, as it's called, uses the pull of ectoplasmic gravity flommulation to fluff up and relax all that chi stuff — kind of like a cat shampoo, but tends to result in less residual scarring if you are lucky.
  • Second, reconnect your yin to your yang, but mind your polarities and keep an eye open for short circuits. If you have trouble telling your yin from your yang, spring for one of Ed "Big Daddy" Ng's Pocket YinYang guides. They're worth it. When done correctly, this reconnection process points earth-energy upward, transforming it to sky-energy, or something like that. If you get it right. Otherwise you get knocked on your keister. Don't worry though — it's a stage we all have to go through, and gives you a good story to tell while you wait for the bandages to come off.
  • Third then, pull any residual energy up and over your crown-point. (You might have to feel around for it, but you'll know it when you find it.) Then tug gently to move the energy down along the meridians in your chest. (If you can find any. Good luck with that. Meridians can be downright vague little buggers.) Anyway, the result is to remove internal blockages and free negative energy to move down to your Dan Tian (Euphemism or what?) for elimination and recycling. Dig a cat hole first or you'll be sorry. And again, watch out for sparks or sudden explosive events.

If all this sounds too complicated, it is, but it does give you a feeling that life, after all, does have a purpose, no matter how misguided that feeling is, and otherwise you'd have nothing to do but sit in the dirt and bang rocks together. So Fung away then.


Fung Your Way Into Spring, Part 1
Fung Your Way Into Spring, Part 2


Me? Planning to investigate those mysterious slime trails you find all over. Pretty soon now.
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