Dr Jean-Marc Kespi

After finishing my medical studies with enthusiasm, I established myself as a General Practitioner in 1962. By chance, or by significant coincidence, I discovered acupuncture that same year and began to learn a second medicine, Chinese this time. Chinese medicine was then considered at best poetic and outdated. After reading Soulié de Morand and Choain, I had the privilege of being in close contact with Chamfrault and Nguyen van Nghi. I was struck by the fact that they kept questioning the texts of Acupuncture, punctuating their readings by numerous « whys », signifying that this particular approach could teach us a different grasp of medicine, the human being and life in general : in fact, the acupuncturist treats each person as a global unity.

This is possible because a complex system of connections and interactions permits us, for instance, to make a link between the Lungs –« roof of intestines » - with the Kidneys and the Big Intestines towards which the Lungs send their energies. There also is a link between the Lungs and the skin, the Lungs and a sense of justice or injustice, the Lungs and the suffering due to irreversible separation and bereavement. In fact, the vision of traditional Chinese medicine is not anatomical, but functional and symbolic. This approach proposes an original vision of the body, which represents the scenery of all physical and psychological memory: the bodily symptoms being its language. Furthermore, this medicine permits us, by puncturing one or more specific acupuncture points, to address ourselves to that part of the body, which memorized various sufferings. Puncturing these points sets the blocked energy in motion again and thereby permits its liberation.

This point of view was fascinating for me: I was in the process of studying a medicine where one observed, listened, felt and touched the patients. This permitted me to remain faithful to the clinical approach that had been transmitted to me by my old masters of occidental medicine, during my years of studies.

I was inspired by the traditional Chinese approach; little by little I was able to discover its depth and validity. I also realized quite soon that I would never be a traditional Chinese doctor. I had not “drunk the Chinese language, the rituals, and the mythology through my mother’s milk”: I was not familiar with Chinese life, the writings, practices and customs. Being a « barbaric » was a disadvantage, but also allowed me to ask questions that only a foreigner would ask. I understood that my reflections, coming from outside the Chinese boundaries, could potentially enrich the understanding of this medicine – on the condition that my reflections would ceaselessly deepen the understanding of the tradition, the civilization and the symbolic language of Chinese medicine.