Altercations, for the most part, are born of disarray. And disarray, as the word itself suggests, is things out of place. On this point, all great physicians would agree, from Galen to Paracelsus to the ancient Bien Que. The problem of what's out of place and where it belongs, however, is open to debate. In the European medical tradition, there were four humors that circulate through the body. First is the yellow bile of anger, which flowing too freely results in rage. Next is the substance phlegm, which in overabundance dulls the nerves. Then there's black bile, the source of melancholy. Finally there's blood, which energizes the four limbs. Over time, with the advance of human knowledge, yellow bile, phlegm, and black bile have fallen out of favor, and now it's only blood, they tell us, that courses through the body. It follows then, that what's out of place must be blood. Each of us, it should also be noted, has a fixed volume of blood. We each have ten liters, give or take a bit depending on the individual. Accordingly, when these ten liters go rushing to some single part of the body, that single part is over-energized while other parts are left cold. It's like the Hibiya Incendiary Incident, where the police were forced back to headquarters and the streets left unpatrolled. From the medical perspective, the diagnosis would be a policing imbalance. To alleviate a rush, blood must be dispersed back out to through the body, restoring to each part its usual measure. There are various methods to bring this about. The master's forebears, back in their day, had sworn by a damp cloth to cool the head and kotatsu to warm the feet. According to the Shanghan Lun, a cooled head and warm feet are secrets to long life. Application of a damp cloth to the head is essential, not to be skipped for even a single day. As an alternative, one can follow the Buddhist priest's example. The wandering Zen monk, winding his way through myriad lands and never putting down roots, always sleeps out of doors. This sleeping out of doors is by no means hardship for hardship's sake.