The Chinese Roots of Hara Breathing

My last two posts, which focused on what Shakyamuni Buddha said about hara breathing, generated some interesting comments from readers. My main point in those posts was that the Buddha didn’t mention hara breathing at all. Further, he didn’t say anything about the abdomen. Instead, his instructions involved observing, but not manipulating or training, the breath. 

Some readers speculated whether hara breathing was introduced to Buddhism in India through Yogic traditions.  While I think that seems plausible, I’m researching that possibility and won’t comment on it now.  However, from what I have learned, I think it is more likely that the roots of hara breathing are found in the Chinese Taoist tradition.  Several other readers made that point in their comments.

One reader called my attention to a book that touches on the connections between Ch’an (Zen) and Taoism in China, particularly in the early days of the former.  For those unfamiliar with the timeline of these two movements, it’s thought that Taoism predated Buddhism in China by at least 500 years.   So, Taoist thought was well established when Buddhism arrived.  The Ch’an school of Buddhism was established at least 500 years after that.

The book is “The Golden Age of Zen: Zen Masters of the  T’ang Dynasty” by John C.H. Wu. He emphasizes a co-mingling of Taoist and Buddhist thought and practices in the early days of Zen in China.  For example, he wrote: “Zen may, therefore, be regarded as the fullest development of Taoism by wedding it to the congenial Buddhist insights and the powerful Buddhist impulse of apostolic zeal. If Buddhism is the father [of Zen], Taoism is the mother of this prodigious child. But there can be no denying that the child looks more like the mother than the father.”

The close relationship between Taoism and Ch’an is also the theme of a book that I discovered this year: “China Root: Taoism, Ch’an, and Original Zen” by David Hinton.  It was an eye-opening book for me, changing my thoughts about Zen. Like Wu, he also maintains that Taoism influenced Ch’an to the point that the latter is closer to the former than traditional Buddhism. It’s unsurprising that there would be a commonality of breathing practices in both Taoism and Ch’an.

Neidan (內丹術), “inner alchemy,” is a central practice in Taoism.  Among other practices, it involves breathing exercises emphasizing the lower dantien (tanden in Japanese), the “one point” below the navel.  I discussed the dantien in one of my first blog posts. Qigong, which has recently gained popularity in the West, can be seen as involving elements of neidan.  Tai chi and other martial arts are also related to neidan; both involve breathing from the dantien.

Despite the emphasis on using the dantien in Taoist breathing practices, in my observations, they differ from hara breathing.  In the Chinese tradition, the predominant way of breathing is for the lower abdomen to expand on inhalation and contract on exhalation, in and out, like a bellows.  I described this in the same earlier post as “abdominal” or “diaphragmatic” breathing. As should be clear to our readers, in hara breathing, the lower abdomen remains expanded whether inhaling or exhaling.

One caveat: The Taoist literature on neidan and related breathing practices is immense.  And I don’t read or speak Chinese.  There may be a diversity of practices I am not aware of.  However, I have spoken to numerous Taoist practitioners–including qigong and tai chi instructors–and they have, to a person, confirmed that what we call hara breathing–abdomen expanded whether inhaling or exhaling–either doesn’t exist or is not emphasized in their practices. One of our readers consulted a noted Taoist scholar about this issue.  She confirmed that hara breathing is not a Taoist practice. So, while the roots of hara breathing may be Chinese, I think its blossoming took place in Japan.  I’ll be writing more about this in the future.

Ellen and I will be intermixing different types of content as we go forward.  Some posts, such as this one,  will focus on the theoretical and contextual issues relevant to hara development.  As interesting as these issues are, they’re no substitute for the experiential and physical aspects of hara development.  So, we’ll continue to post personal accounts and exercises to help you bring hara into your lives.

Ellen and I again invite you to send in your questions and comments. We’d also appreciate suggestions for topics for future posts.