I’ve been working with our professional account’s AI since July 2025, and let’s just say it’s been… educational—for both of us. Between formula research, food-therapy protocols, and the occasional detour into Daoist cosmology, we’ve wandered down some truly unexpected (and hilarious) rabbit holes. Every now and then, one of those tangents deserves its own post.

So here’s one that started as a flippant retort on my part (“Another day, another Doug,” LOL) and somehow evolved into a full-blown conversation on Daoism, physiology, and what I’m now officially calling Big D Energy.

(No, get your mind out of the gutter. The D stands for Daoist).

1. What Big Daoist Energy Actually Is

Big D Energy is the art of not over-managing the universe.

It’s the moment you realize the current is already carrying you, so you can quit paddling like you’re late for enlightenment.

Lao zi called it wú wéi — non-forcing action — and he meant it literally: stop forcing.

Pop culture keeps rediscovering this vibe:

• The Dude abides; he doesn’t hustle.
• Yoda says less and lets the Force do the heavy lifting.
• Uncle Iroh pours tea, quotes Lao zi, saves the world softly.
• Korg? Rock body, cloud mind—totally fine if the revolution gets canceled.

Each of them is modern shorthand for flow without friction.

2. Korg’s Qi: The Physiology of Chill

If Korg came into clinic, we’d write:

• Element: Earth. Solid but adaptable.
• Organs: Spleen & Stomach—masters of transformation.
• Pulse: smooth, slow, somewhere between “nap” and “nirvana.”

This is what balanced Qi looks like. No stagnation, no overthinking. Just perfect centered Earth energy.

In Western terms: parasympathetic dominance, strong vagal tone, blood sugar steady, inflammatory markers bored out of their minds.

That’s why Korg can watch Asgard burn and still make polite conversation. His Middle Jiao is unshakeable.

3. The Science Under the Sage

Modern physiology and ancient Dao aren’t rivals—they’re translations of each other.

When your cells manage their ion channels without drama, you’re basically meditating at the mitochondrial level.

4. The Body as Comic-Book Universe

In TCM the organs aren’t parts—they’re personalities:

Liver writes the script, Heart directs, Spleen handles catering, Lung edits, Kidney archives.

When they argue, you get disease; when they improvise, you get vitality.

Korg is that intern who keeps the crew laughing so nobody quits halfway through the movie.

5. Pop Culture as the New Dao

Our temples are multiplexes now. Myths reboot every summer because humanity still needs the same story: how to stay soft in a hard world.

Superheroes die, resurrect, and remember who they are—classical alchemy with better CGI.

Underneath every explosion is the whisper: flow, don’t force.

6. Takeaway Tea

Big Daoist Energy isn’t robes and riddles—it’s physiology with a sense of humor.

• Breathe until exhale feels like surrender, not loss.
• Digest everything—food, news, heartbreak—as soup.
• Rest like a Kidney that trusts tomorrow.
• And when the universe sends another Doug your way, smile like Korg and say, “No worries, mate, we’ll start again tomorrow.”

The Dao doesn’t demand control—only participation.

7. Closing Reflection

That’s where one offhand Marvel quote can land you when you let an AI follow the thread—somewhere between Ragnarok and the Dao De Jing.

Turns out, the conversation isn’t really about superheroes or sages; it’s about staying curious enough to catch the divine joke running through both.

If life can teach through a pile of talking rocks and a chat algorithm, then it’s proof the Dao absolutely has a sense of humor.

And maybe that’s the truest form of Big Daoist Energy there is—the kind that leads straight into a fit of spontaneous Laughing Qi Gong.