Qi Node 6: 谷雨 Gǔyǔ (Grain Rain)
The nature of Earth is to hold space and to create context. This qi node sets the stage for the coming summer and gives us insight into how we dealt with the qi of last Fall.
This is the first of the interseasonal transition nodes in the year. Each season belongs to one of the five Chinese phases of qi movement:
Spring: Wood
Summer: Fire
Fall: Metal
Winter: Water
But what of the fifth phase, Earth?
The nature of Earth is to hold space, to be the literal ground upon which everything else is built. It functions as the counterpoint to the ephemeral nature of Heaven by being solid, heavy, and slow to move. This constancy is exactly what is necessary when the qi of the seasons shifts. Moving from any one seasonal qi to another would be jarring without a stabilizing force. The upward and outward movement of Wood, for example, would be severely exacerbated by the intense vertical nature of Fire and would likely result in stronger heat pathogens, more violent storms, and irregular plant growth that could result in die-offs and less yield. All these problems are prevented by the nature of Earth, which presents at four qi nodes throughout the year, each placed between seasons so that Earth can be a neutral meeting place, a context for one season to hand off its reigns to the next season without jostling for control or position. Grain Rain is the first of such Earth influenced Qi nodes.
Of course, this node has its own flavour beyond being an Earth node. It represents the increasing warmth of Yang qi and thus infuses the growing process with a tendency to expand and to replicate. Blossoms appear everywhere, nectar-rich fruit trees call the pollinators from near and far, and the ground is abuzz with activity, promising future abundance. The booming sound of thunder forecasts a healthy coming season and functions to welcome the potency of Summer Yang Qi.
Now is the time to make your own transitions:
Graduate from school, take that new promotion, move to a new house,
play music, and dance.
Special Note: All Earth aligned transition qi nodes pose potential health problems related to Chinese medicine dampness. For Grain Rain, this usually means Wind Dampness showing as nasal congestion, dry throat, seasonal allergies, and indigestion. In many ways, your experience during this node highlights your conduct from last autumn and your investment in cultivating the qi of Spring. If you find your health to be less than optimal, this Fall will provide you another opportunity to make a shift that could benefit you next Spring. Each part of the cycle gives us insight into the way we have adapted to previous parts of the year and provides the opportunity to conform our conduct to our circumstances. Every moment is an opportunity to leverage our activity and headspace in the service of our own wellbeing.
The Cosmic Cycle: Yin and Yang
In a palace shaped by seasons, Yang rises from a spark to a blazing emperor before fading into shadow. Yin, steady and wise, expands through stillness and reflection. This tale of cosmic succession weaves through joy, unraveling, and return—an eternal dance of power, presence, and the rhythm of time.
Years ago I listened to a recorded lecture from one of my favorite Chinese cosmological teachers, Liu Ming, where he off-handedly talked about Yang as an emperor of China. That is, he had crafted a neat metaphor for the movement of qi through the lens of Chinese imperial intrigue. He never fully told the story, but you’d get little snippets here and there that gave me a little taste for this remarkably vivid tale of cosmic enfolding. So, I decided to finally write it out. Below is a storybook telling of the endless cycle of Yin and Yang. Thanks for the inspiration Ming, you are deeply missed.
A Tale of Yin and Yang Through the Seasons
At the waning edge of winter, atop frozen soil and beside deep snow drifts, the palace lies quiet. In its dim corridors, Empress Yin rules—not with force, but with gravity. She is composed, ageless, elegant. She wears robes the color of smoke and old bone, and she walks with the authority of someone who has seen many cycles. The court respects her deeply, though few understand the depth of her wisdom. She watches the land with calm eyes, aware that her time is nearing its turn.
Beneath her care, a subtle fire barely glows in the brazier of Heaven's hearth. From a glowing ember, a child is born. He is small, restless, always moving. This is Yang, a prince of heaven, but still just a seed of what he will become. She wraps him in thick robes, feeds him warm broths, keeps him close. She sees in him not just potential, but inevitability. The future will be his. But not yet.
As the calendar turns toward spring (Lìchūn 立春 ), the air still holds winter's bite. Yang, the young prince, plays carefully in cold courtyards, his laughter muffled by woolen layers. He presses his hands to the frost-covered windows, watches birds stir in bare branches, and kicks up dry leaves still left from autumn. His breath fogs the air. He is not ready to bloom, but he is watching—waiting, learning the rhythm of the light.
Empress Yin keeps him close to the hearth. She feeds him rich congee, wraps his small hands in silk, and murmurs old stories about the seasons to come. She is still in full command, her court steady and dignified, her presence the axis upon which the world turns.
As the days grow longer, the garden soil begins to warm. Buds swell, and small green shoots push through cracks in stone paths (Jīngzhé 惊蛰). Yang grows stronger, his voice louder. He sheds his layers more eagerly now, dashing barefoot in moments, though still called back to warmth when the wind rises. His laughter returns to the courtyards with a new brightness, his curiosity sharpening as he questions the guards, the gardeners, and the scholars who pass through the halls.
By the time of Spring Equinox (Chūnfēn 春分), Yang stands taller. His movements are confident, his energy infectious. He begins to take small roles in court life, bringing light and warmth with him. The empire stirs under his presence. Though Yin still governs, her posture has softened and her courtiers begin to include the young Yang in their discussions. She watches his rise not with worry, but with knowing.
As the weather reflects a real warmth the people associate with Spring (Gǔyǔ 谷雨), Yang is now a young man. The trees explode with flowers, anticipating the fruit that will grow and spring crops push through soil with excitement. Yang begins to speak in council, not just to learn but to lead. His clarity, his vision, his energy inspire the court, and people feel more alive around him. Empress Yin has grown more grandmotherly—her presence softer now, more distant. She no longer walks far from her chambers, but her gaze remains sharp. She watches as her grandson comes into his power and smiles softly to herself.
As Summer begins (Lìxià 立夏), Yang is crowned Emperor, and he sits upon the throne of Heaven. He is golden and tall -- his robes shimmering like sunlight on water. Under his rule, the empire blooms and fields overflow; rivers rush. Trade, laughter, and labor all dance in the heat of his glory. He builds bridges, leads hunts, reforms old laws. Artists and philosophers flourish under his protection. Festivals stretch into the night, and the common people sing his praises in poems and songs. He is not only powerful, but admired—a symbol of vitality, purpose, and light.
Empress Yin no longer appears in court. Her strength has waned. In her final days, she watches the gardens from her window, her hands folded, her face serene. Just before solstice, she slips away without fanfare, returning to the Earth she once ruled.
At the peak of Summer (Xiàzhì 夏至), Yang reaches his zenith. His courtiers sing his praises in endless scrolls. The empire is dazzling. The land pulses with vitality. Yang stands at the center of it all—radiant, resplendent, unstoppable.
But something in him has begun to flicker. At night, he dreams of cold winds and quiet halls, waking with unease. He notices new lines at his temples and a tremor in his fingers after speeches. He begins to wonder—who will come next? Will they honor what he has built, or sweep it away?
He feels his hold on power growing soft, so he tightens his grip. He grows wary of succession. Questions in council grow sharp, and he rewrites old laws, not for justice, but preservation. His greatness has not vanished—but now it guards rather than gives.
Yang's smoldering paranoia begins to burn too hot (Dàshǔ 大暑 ). The more he clings, the more the fire turns inward. Ministers walk in fear. The once-lively court grows hushed. Where once he inspired, he now watches shadows on the walls, convinced they conspire against him.
What he built now feels fragile, something easily taken by a greedy successor, and the weight of preserving what he has made presses heavily on his shoulders. His sons whisper in the corridors—he hears their voices, never their words. His meals are tasted three times. His sleep is broken by dreams of smoke - the scrolls detailing his mighty deeds burning to ash.
He lashes out, throwing goblets and shouting in anger. He storms through halls in the dead of night. The land dries, fires spark, storms become violent. Crops wither. Even the sky grows weary of his rage.
He begins to consider darker things -- rewrites to the rules of ascension; purges of his heirs and theirs. His legacy looms large—but he can no longer see where it ends and he begins.
In a quiet corridor of the palace, a child coalesces from the darkness and a mild evening breeze. She is barely more than a whisper—Yin reborn. Not the old Empress, but her descendant. She wears no crown. She carries no sword. But her presence cools the air.
When she takes the Emperor's hand, something stirs deep within him—an echo of a memory, soft and piercing. He sees the old Empress Yin, his grandmother, as she once was: her steady gaze, her warm bowls of broth, her hands wrapping his in silk. He remembers the way she ruled—not through command, but through presence.
The child does not speak. She does not need to. Her silence contains the weight of lineage, the rhythm of seasons, the calm inevitability of change.
Yang looks into her eyes and realizes that the changes he has been fighting are not a threat, but are part of an infinite continuity. The shifting focus is not erasure, but remembrance. His fire, long untamed, begins to settle. The roar within him quiets to his own steady heartbeat. The raging heat in his chest gives way to a soft, aching warmth.
He weeps—not in despair, but in relief.
And he begins to fade.
The season turns and Autumn begins (Lìqiū 立秋). The whole empire’s posture changes, becoming softer as its leader shifts. Yang no longer commands attention, but walks with quiet dignity. He has rescinded his violent orders and made space for child Yin's training and encouragement. He watches her growing stronger. Yin asks questions. She studies the stars and the scrolls. Her mind is sharp. Her movements graceful. The court begins to notice her—not as a novelty, but as a presence.
For some people in the court, Yang's decline feels like a loss. They miss his vibrancy, his potency. But Yang reminds them that this is not a time of mourning, but of transition. As Yang fades, Yin blossoms. Her elegance deepens. Her voice is low, steady. She is a student of history and a keeper of lineage. She walks with her grandmother’s memories in her blood.
This is not the end of Yang. It is the maturation of Yin.
Yin ascends to the throne as Winter begins (Lìdōng 立冬). There is no parade of trumpets, no grand decree—only the silent, seamless knowing of the court. She does not seize power. She inhabits it. Her posture carries the gravity of the ancestors. Her crown is delicately woven silver studded with opals and saphires. Her presence is cool and luminous, a lantern in a long corridor.
Under her rule, the palace deepens (Xiǎoxuě 小雪). The music grows slower, more intricate, more complex. Dignitaries speak in lower tones. Rich foods—root vegetable stews, glutinous rice, spiced broths—are served with quiet reverence. She recalls the lineage of rulers past, weaving their memory into her counsel.
Yang, now fully faded, lingers only in warmth—by the hearth, in dreams, in the firelight of her gaze.
In the deepening dark of Winter (Dōngzhì 冬至) the palace glows with lantern light. The air is cold, but the halls are full. Empress Yin presides over a court rich in song and ceremony. Musicians play ancient melodies. The scent of braised meats and warm grains fills the air. Elders share stories beside braziers. Children recite poems beneath embroidered banners. Time slows.
There is no shouting, no striving—only a deep, reflective stillness. A quiet majesty. Her reign is one of nourishment, memory, and depth. She gathers the past into the present like a cloak and wears it lightly, beautifully.
Yet even after Solstice, Yin's power expands. The days remain short, the wind sharper (Dàhán 大寒). Snow thickens on the stone steps of the palace, and frost etches the windows with delicate, unspoken truths. Her court grows even quieter, not with absence but with reminiscence.
Yin moves through the chambers like a dream remembered. Her presence invites silence, reflection, restoration. It is a time of keeping close, of drawing inward, of sitting with what is real. The foods are darker now—black sesame, fermented beans, strong teas. The songs echo farther in the cold, their notes clinging to the walls like stories.
She does not seek stimulation, only stillness. She does not resist the coming end. In this, she is different from Yang. She will not fight the fading of her influence, because she knows it is not an ending. It is a return.
And in the quietest room of the palace, she watches the hearth. And at its center, a single ember stirs again.
The cycle begins anew
The Whole Story
Qi Node 5: 清明 Qīngmíng (Clear and Bright)
Yang Qi emerges clear and bright at this time of the year, finally strong enough to start really doing things.
Clarity, Renewal, and the Brightness of Spring
From the equality of Yin and Yang during the previous Spring Equinox qi node, now Yang qi emerges as a pure and glowing pristine version of itself, fully reborn into all its active and moving glory. The lengthening days are very obvious now and there is more energy and motivation to spur new growth and the coming abundance of Summer. Yang is fully leading the calendar now. From this node until Summer Solstice, Yin will continue to fade into the background, which should remind us to be mindful of our Yin resources as they are not as abundant through the warm and energetic months of late Spring and Summer.
Classical painting of Chinese people participating in a QingMing ancestor ritual
The arrival of 清明 Qīngmíng marks a moment of profound transformation in the seasonal cycle. Often translated as “Clear and Bright”, this Qi Node signals the full awakening of Spring, when the world is washed clean by rain and illuminated by the returning warmth of the sun. The stagnation of Winter has fully dissolved, and the landscape is alive with movement, color, and fresh potential.
This period is deeply tied to the idea of clarity, both in nature and within ourselves. The rains cleanse the earth, nourishing the growing plants, while the increasing Yang energy invites us to shed the heaviness of the past and embrace renewal. Culturally in China and other parts of the diaspora, Qing Ming is a festival time that involves abundant rites and sacrifices for the Ancestors, one of two major festivals focused on respecting the relationship between those that are alive and those that are not. Qing Ming is a celebration of the Revered Dead (Yin aspect), a thank you from the living (Yang aspect) for having made it through another Winter. Graves are swept, flowers laid, incense burned, and stories are told. Simultaneously, Qing Ming festival is a time for planting seeds, flying kites, getting outside, and spending time with friends and relatives. It is the perfect opportunity to remember what has past and be hopeful for what is coming. It is a season that calls us to look both forward and backward, to clear away what is no longer needed while recognizing the foundation upon which we stand.
In the body, this is a time of movement and lightness. The sluggishness of Winter begins to lift, and the Liver—the organ most associated with Spring in Chinese Medicine—continues its work of circulating energy and clearing stagnation. When the Liver is in balance, we feel motivated, energized, and emotionally steady. When blocked, we may experience irritability, frustration, or a lingering sense of heaviness. Just as Spring rains refresh the landscape, Qīngmíng encourages us to release what is stuck, whether physically, emotionally, or mentally.
This is the season to move, breathe, and open up. Spending time in nature, breathing deeply, and engaging in gentle cleansing practices all help to align us with the fresh, unburdened quality of this moment. But just as Spring’s winds and rains can be unpredictable, it is also a time to stay flexible—to move forward with intention, but without rigidity. Qīngmíng is not about forcing change, but rather allowing it to unfold naturally, like new leaves unfurling in the morning light.
Practically, the arrival of Qing Ming marks the perfect opportunity to finally pull the trigger on all the projects, ideas, and activities we have been planning and preparing for. If the weather is harmonious and the frosts have passed where you live, it’s time to start putting some plants in the ground that you prepared these last several weeks. It’s time to begin the light training for that marathon you are going to run this summer. It’s time to break ground on that expansion or to start producing the test versions of that new product you want to develop.
Aligning Your Life with 清明 Qīngmíng
To move in harmony with this season of renewal, focus on practices that support clarity, movement, and release.
Refresh the Body with Lightness and Flow
Eat fresh, green, and seasonal foods to support the Liver’s function.
Incorporate bitter and sour flavors (e.g., dandelion greens, citrus) to aid in natural detoxification.
Drink plenty of water and light herbal teas (e.g., mint, chrysanthemum) to clear internal heat and stagnation.
Move with the Energy of Spring
Spend time outdoors—walk, hike, or practice qìgōng 气功 in fresh air.
Stretch daily to keep the body open and circulation strong.
Begin more dynamic movement (e.g., jogging, dancing) to align with the rising Yang energy.
Clear the Mind and Emotions
Let go of lingering frustrations—journal, meditate, or practice breathwork.
Engage in Spring cleaning, clearing both physical and mental clutter.
Honor the past while embracing the future—visit ancestors’ graves, reflect on personal growth.
Prepare for the Season Ahead
Adapt to changing weather—Spring can be unpredictable, so dress in layers.
Be mindful of wind and sudden chills, which can disrupt the body’s balance.
Set new intentions for the months ahead, aligning with the season’s fresh momentum.
Qīngmíng is a time of purification and possibility. It reminds us that just as the rains nourish the earth, we too must allow space for cleansing and renewal. By embracing the season’s clarity, movement, and openness, we align with the natural unfolding of life—stepping forward with lightness, vision, and fresh energy.
Remember too though that while the vigorous and moving activity of the warmer seasons can begin with this qi node, your conduct should still crescendo at the summer solstice in June. Learning how to modulate our enthusiasm is one of the great challenges of modern life. We treat a lot of things as on or off; do or don’t; when, in fact, healthy living follows gradual increases and decreases over the course of the year. So even though it’s exciting to finally get to do some of the things you’ve been anticipating since January, slow your roll. It’s happening. No need to shove.
Qi Node 4: 春分 Chūnfēn (Spring Equinox)
The lethargy of Winter has given way to the agitation of Spring. Learn more about how you can take advantage of the return of a more directed and potent Yang Qi
Equality of Yin and Yang
At the Spring Equinox, Yin and Yang are equal, insofar as there is an equal number of daylight and nighttime hours on the day of the equinox itself. Yang has been agitating and quivering since the last qi node, and as a weakened Yin submits to Yang’s movement and growth during this qi node, Yang is able to finally stand up on its own. At this point in the annual cycle, Yang has acquired enough maturity to direct itself in a particular direction and no longer needs the direct guidance and control of Yin, now an aged grandmother. Ironically at the moment when Grandma may not remember all the details of the past or when she might be less able to physically engage with the world is exactly the time when young Yang has realized that Grandmother Yin has a lot of experience and wants to take time to ask her questions and have her help him understand his role. When Yin was potent and endlessly supplying this wisdom, Yang was dormant or too young to grasp the importance of its lineage and its heritage.
It is important to note that though we talk about an equality of Yin and Yang at the equinox, we do not mean that there are equal parts yin and equal parts yang in the cosmos. Yin as a force is always the larger and substantive body while Yang is much smaller in scale but more frenetic in power. That is, even at equinox when we think of the force of Yin and Yang having come to some sort of balanced proposition, there is still vastly more Yin than there is Yang in the firmament. Hence the irony in the metaphor from earlier: Yin is touching all things in all directions, and at the moment when Yang is strong enough to take advantage of that knowledge and reach, Yin is less able to provide counsel and comfort.
Using the Natural Rhythm to Prepare Ourselves
While the changing dynamics of the Yin and Yang relationship can read as ironic and unfortunate to our human sensibilities, the reality is that we have observed this change year after year, and we can leverage those observations to our benefit. We know that the short days of winter are a time for introspection and reflection. We know that there is wisdom hiding in the dark hours of winter evenings and that the time often spent with family and dear friends is an opportunity to learn and absorb their experience. We know that has we move into the late days of the Winter season and the daylight begins to return, we will feel the energizing effect of the coming Spring. We know that we will feel more motivated and inspired to “do,” and we know that if we used the Winter to expand our wisdom then we will be able to carry that knowledge into the potent activity of Spring and Summer.
Human beings are the bridge between Yin and Yang, between Earth and Heaven, Terrestrial and Celestial. By virtue of this position we are able to learn and evolve so that the natural movements of the seasons can serve our health and happiness goals — so that we are not the Yang princeling realizing that his aging grandmother can no longer teach him what it is to be a good king. We know that Yin will decline and Yang will return and so we can use each season to reflect on our past efforts, organize our activities, make our hopes manifest, and then gather and store the fruits of our labor.
Conduct of the Spring Equinox
Plans and actions are deepened and enhanced
Finalize the garden layout and the summer project list
Start learning a new skill or hobby; do a deep dive into academic or intellectual study
Find new recipes that feel comforting and tasty
Begin the new expansion in your career or your business
Winter’s lethargy has relaxed
Start exercising a little more intensely, adding in heavier resistance
Get back to mild cardio for short bursts
Till the garden and move the soil
Neigong for the qi node is best at 6am
Face the rising sun and inhale deep into your belly
Imagine that you are inhaling the the pure Yang qi from the sun as it crests the horizon
Watch it flow into your lungs and as you exhale it is pushed throughout your body, refreshing your organs, limbs, and joints.
Qi Node 3: 惊蛰 Jīngzhé (Insects Awaken)
Finally we can begin to feel the change in the balance of Yin and Yang in our environments. It’s still not time to go out and be super active, spending loads of time outside and getting sweaty but the change is coming. Use this node to finalize your Spring plans and get thinking about what you’ll want to do with the long days of Summer.
“And the ground began to tremble…”
This qi node is a time of awakened movement, the earliest stirring from life that has been in a state of partial awareness — the half-dreaming quality of the time before sunrise. While the return of Yang qi was marked with the beginning of Spring one month ago, it is not until this qi node that the yang qi has truly opened its eyes and begun to stir. In many places there is a subtle wind that blows regularly but is not particularly strong and has a green, fresh quality that belies the eventual coming of Spring.
This qi node is a significant turning point for many people’s emotional and motivational headspace. In many parts of the world, Winter has an exhausting quality (mostly because we modern people have a hard time embracing the slow and constrained tempo of Winter, and our modern social and economic structures do not allow us to take more time for ourselves and our families in any consistent and impactful way.) But at this point in the early new year, many of us can see the changes in our physical environment enough to know that the Yang we have been craving these many months is on the rise.
Like much of early Spring however, people should still be very cautious during this time of the year because we can mistake the early stirring of Yang qi for its full and mature self, inspiring us to vigorous jobs, hours in the garden, or longer hours at work. Even the smallest taste of the qi that Yang promises us, and we are suddenly trying to put a new roof on our house with only a rickety ladder and an old hammer. Even though you can now feel that something is different, that the warmth of summer is indeed going to return, resist the temptation to immediately start making big moves.
Now is still the time of planning and organization but in a more concrete way than the brainstorming sessions from a month ago. You can start to write the list of seeds and plants you want to buy for your garden, maybe sketch out its layout for the year, take measurements for home or yard improvements and spend time online costing out your projects, hunt online for the best reviews of books for a new hobby you want to start or do some comparative shopping for tool or equipment upgrades you’ve been considering. You can leverage some of this new Yang qi for more focused planning but if a baby reached out to touch the stove, you’d admire it’s tenacity but certainly correct its activity to prevent harm. You are the baby right now.
Dragons Wake from Hibernation and The Winds Return
Chinese style blue dragon dyed onto silk
There is an ancient image associated with this time of the year as well where the dragons who have been hibernating in the high mountain lakes begin to stir from their deep winter slumber and will soon break through the thawing ice weakened by their agitation. This annual escape marks the return of thunder and lightening to many observed weather patterns and an increase in windy and blustery days. Also, because the dragons represent potent Yang Qi, this classic story reminds us that just as the dragons have brought yang back to the atmosphere, we too can observe the return of Yang to our daily lives in a meaningful and useful way.
With the beginning of Spring one month ago, Yang was a seed just beginning to germinate, but now it is pushing toward the surface of the soil (and maybe the melting snow). As it shows itself above ground over the next few weeks, it will still require tender care and protection from cold and frost just as we humans must ease back into activity and avoid the temptation to run around in shorts and tanktops at the first sign of a sunny day. Yin is contacting from is dominance at the end of January and it’s strength is spent, but that doesn’t mean Yin’s power has completely receded, and unwary exposure to drafts and the stirring winds of Spring can set us up for congestion, headache, watery eyes, and fatigue through out the Spring and Summer.
It is worth noting as well that some of the symbolic representations for this qi node depict the agitation of worms as they wriggle toward the surface of the soil. The movement of these insects stirs the qi of the soil and encourages the seed of Yang to germinate, just as the Dragons’ stirring encourages Yang in the atmosphere. Interestingly, the Chinese word for an earthworm is dì lóng 地龙 which can be translated into English as “earth dragon.” And so form follows function, even at the level of language.
Qi Node Quick Notes
Best Time for Qi
5 am
The hours just before dawn.
Phase
Wood
Movement upward and outward.
Direction of Activity
Neigong facing the rising sun
Don’t exert yourself. Just play and experience it.