Grief, Pain, and the Healing Wisdom of Chinese Herbal Medicine

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Close-up of a woman with a tear, representing emotional grief and loss

A personal note: when grief takes your breath away

Recently, I experienced a profound loss that touched me so deeply it felt as though the world stood still: my breath, my rhythm, even time itself. Grief doesn’t just reside in the heart; it settles in the body. For me, it was like being caught in emotional apnea, holding my breath without realising it, struggling to remain upright while everything inside me crumbled. That’s why I’m sharing this. Because in the depth of that pain, something ancient and gentle embraced me: the Chinese herbs I’ve worked with for years, along with the wisdom of Chinese Medicine. They didn’t take away my sorrow, but they allowed me to breathe again and helped me feel a soft movement within when everything else felt stagnant. Herbs created a comforting space for me. They softened the edges of my grief. And little by little, they guided me to stay connected to life, even amidst my loss. I want to share this in case you, or someone you love, is walking through grief too. We can all be vulnerable.

 

Bai He (Lily Bulb): A flower that rises from the mud

Before I go any further, let me share something beautiful.
One of the herbs that supported me most was Bai He, known as the Lily bulb or Bulbus Lilii. In Chinese culture, it shares its symbolic roots with the lotus, a flower that rises from the still, muddy waters into something pure, open, and luminous. It’s not merely poetic; it’s meaningful. Because this is what healing looks like.
Not perfection. Not bypassing pain. But slowly transforming what feels heavy and stagnant into something clear and alive again. This is what Bai He does in the body.
And this is what Chinese herbs can offer us: not a way around our grief, but a way through it, with grace.

 

What grief means in Chinese Medicine

In Chinese Medicine, emotions are deeply intertwined with the body. Grief, in particular, is understood to impact the Lungs, which play a vital role in our breath, rhythm, and ability to let go. At the heart of this tradition lies Qi, our essential life energy. Imagine Qi flowing through our bodies like water gently cascading through a river. When it flows smoothly, we feel connected, grounded, and alive. However, during times of pain, Qi can become stuck, contracted, or even reversed. You might notice sensations like a tight chest, a lump in your throat, shortness of breath, or an urge to sigh repeatedly. Perhaps you find yourself crying more often, or on the flip side, you might feel completely numb, as if your emotions have faded away. Both experiences signal that grief is residing in the body, and the Qi is having difficulty moving freely. Often, this pain can journey even deeper, into the Heart.

 

The Heart: the Emperor within

In Chinese Medicine, the Heart is regarded as the Emperor. It holds the Shen, which you might think of as our spirit, our consciousness, the spark that makes us feel truly ourselves. When the Emperor is calm, the body experiences harmony. However, when the Emperor is distressed, such as during times of deep sorrow, the whole system can feel out of balance. We may find ourselves losing sleep, losing our appetite, and feeling unmoored. Even moments of joy can seem just out of reach. Clinically, this might look like Lung Qi constraint, Shen disturbance, Heart Yin deficiency, or Qi stagnation. But in essence, it’s the body’s way of expressing what heartbreak feels like. This is why we nurture and protect the Heart with such care; when the Emperor cannot find rest, nothing else can truly settle down.

 

The quiet strength of Chinese medicinal herbs

What I love most about Chinese herbs is their gentle nature. They don’t force. They don’t push anything away.
They make room for feeling, for breath, for presence. They helped me soften. They helped me stay open. They were like a hand on my back when I didn’t have the strength to stand.

These are the herbs that supported me, and that I use to support others walking through loss:

  • Bai He (Lily Bulb)
    Supports the Heart and Lungs, calms the Shen, and moistens the dryness left by sadness.
    It helps when grief feels quiet but endless, like a longing you can’t put into words.
  • Suan Zao Ren (Zizyphus Seed)
    Nourishes the Heart and Liver, calms the mind, and brings rest to an overactive spirit.
    Especially helpful for restless nights when emotions won’t let you sleep.
  • Mei Gui Hua (Rosebud)
    Moves stagnant Qi, softens emotional tightness, and gently uplifts the spirit.
    Perfect when grief is tangled with frustration or inner closure.
  • Mu Li (Oyster Shell)
    Deeply grounding and anchoring, it calms emotional agitation and brings a sense of quiet strength.
    Like sitting by the sea when the world inside is stormy.

Each herb brought something unique.
And together, they helped me hold myself through the storm, not by removing the pain, but by helping me breathe through it.

 

If you’d like to explore a bit more…

If you want to know more about how to treat grief, you can check here: https://shenmingacupuncture.com/stress-anxiety-headache/ and read the frequently asked questions about Chinese medicine following the link https://shenmingacupuncture.com/chinese-medicine/

Here are a few other resources I trust, in case you’d like to learn more about grief, emotional healing, and the place of Chinese Medicine in all of this.

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