Qi Node 8: 小满 Xiǎomǎn (Grain Sprouts)
We are mid-way through the first moon of Summer and the Yang qi is driving the creation summer fruits and vegetables. It is inspiring movement and activity in people and helping all of us to feel progressive and productive.
Yang qi’s transformation from dormancy in Winter through the rebirth of Spring has now finally manifested as a fully mature Yang. At this point in the calendar, much of Yang’s early impulsiveness, and even recklessness, it showed in late Spring has settled down. Yang has a discipline and dedication to doing and growing that shows in the seedlings taking hold in the fields.
For us, the 8th qi node marks a distinct shift toward consistent activity. Get up and move around. Working in groups to accomplish larger tasks is auspicious this time of year, with a greater likelihood of smooth interactions and successful completion. Socialize with friends, enjoy the growing warmth, and involve yourself in things beyond your personal comfort and your routines.
The Season of Small Fullness
As Summer deepens, we arrive at Xiǎomǎn 小满, literally translated as “Small Fullness” and more often metaphorically as “Grain Sprouts.” This Qi Node marks a time of gradual ripening—the moment when the promise of growth begins to materialize, but the harvest is still to come. If Lìxià was the strong ignition of Fire, Xiǎomǎn is its steady, building glow—less of a blaze, more of a controlled burn.
In the language of nature, Xiǎomǎn describes grains filling with moisture—not yet mature, but no longer in their infancy. It is a period of transition, where Yang energy continues to rise, but the presence of Yin begins to linger at the edges. The heat is increasing, yet the rains come more frequently, tempering the intensity. The cycle reminds us that even in seasons of expansion, patience is required. Things are growing, but they are not yet ready to be gathered.
In the body, this is a time to nourish and protect what is developing. Chinese Medicine often speaks of digestion as a kind of internal ripening process, transforming food into usable energy. The Spleen and Stomach—the center of digestion—must remain strong, ensuring that the nutrients we take in are properly integrated. Xiǎomǎn reminds us that supporting growth is just as important as initiating it. There is no need to rush. Strength is built in small, steady increments, just like grains filling with moisture in the fields.
Emotionally, this Qi Node also speaks to the practice of satisfaction without completion. In modern life, we are often fixated on results—on finishing things, achieving goals, arriving at destinations. But Xiǎomǎn teaches us the value of the in-between space, the moment when something is still forming, still taking shape. Can we be content with the process rather than the product? Can we recognize small signs of progress rather than demanding immediate results? This is the essence of Xiǎomǎn: fullness, but not yet fulfillment.
Aligning Your Life with Xiǎomǎn
To move in harmony with the energy of “Grain Ripens”, consider these practical ways to integrate its lessons into your daily life:
Nourish Growth with Gentle Support
Eat warm, easy-to-digest foods to support digestion (rice, millet, lightly cooked vegetables).
Avoid excess raw, cold, or greasy foods, which can weaken the Spleen.
Drink light broths and teas to maintain hydration and aid digestion.
Balance Expansion with Rest
Don’t overextend yourself—progress happens gradually.
Schedule short breaks between tasks instead of pushing through exhaustion.
Get enough sleep to allow the body’s internal processes to unfold naturally.
Move with Intention
Engage in gentle, steady exercise like walking, tai chi, or yoga.
Avoid excessive sweating, which can lead to depletion in hot weather.
Stretch and breathe deeply to encourage circulation without strain.
Practice Contentment in the Present Moment
Acknowledge small wins and trust the process rather than rushing for results.
Engage in creative activities that emphasize process over outcome (painting, gardening, journaling).
Spend time outdoors and observe nature’s gradual transformations—growth doesn’t happen overnight.
Prepare for the Coming Heat
Begin adjusting to rising temperatures with lighter clothing and cooling foods.
Keep your living and sleeping spaces well-ventilated.
Stay mindful of emotional irritability or impatience, as excess heat can stir frustration.
Xiǎomǎn reminds us that everything ripens in its own time. The work of growth is ongoing, and each moment of small fullness is a necessary step toward completion. By nourishing, balancing, and trusting the process, we align ourselves with the rhythm of the season—moving forward with patience, steadiness, and an appreciation for the unfolding journey.
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.
Yin Water Rabbit Peers At the Moon
The Yin Water Rabbit year invites quiet discernment and careful pacing. It’s a time to tend what’s unresolved, listen deeply, and recognize that subtle shifts may carry more power than grand gestures.
A stylized white rabbit beneath the moon
The Chinese calendar’s system of reckoning is not simply a way to mark time—it is a way to understand time. Each year, composed from the 10 Heavenly Stems and 12 Earthly Branches, offers a layered cosmological snapshot of the qi dynamics at play. And like any good map, it helps us navigate not just what is happening, but how it feels, and where it may be headed. The year we are emerging from—the Yáng Water Tiger (壬寅, rén yín)—was one of sudden shifts, bold actions, and pent-up energy finally finding a release. Tiger years are known for their intensity and passion, and this one lived up to its reputation, marked by both widespread agitation and bursts of hopeful forward motion. But as with any explosive phase, there is a cost: exhaustion, overextension, and, for many, a sense of being emotionally and physically stretched beyond their limits.
That is the soil into which the Yīn Water Rabbit (癸卯, guǐ mǎo) is about to arrive. If the Tiger year was a storm breaking open the sky, the Rabbit year is the mist that lingers after—the cooling, quieting, gathering back of attention and energy. It invites us to pull inward, to reflect, and to begin the slower work of integration. The tone shifts from the overt to the subtle, from decisive movement to careful discernment. Rather than continuing to push outward, we are now asked to tend the internal terrain stirred up by the chaos of the year before. The movement continues, but it does so softly, quietly, beneath the surface.
Hexagrams; Yì Jīng, and Other Esoterica
The Rabbit year is often associated with Hexagram 2 (坤, Kūn) and Hexagram 31 (咸, Xián). Kūn, known as "The Receptive," is composed entirely of yin lines. It represents yielding, softness, and the capacity to hold and nourish. It teaches us that responsiveness can be a form of strength, and that deep power often appears in gentle forms. Within the yin water context of the year, Kūn mirrors the quiet, encompassing fluidity of emotional insight and the work of internal transformation.
Hexagram 31, Xián, sometimes translated as "Influence" or "Wooing," speaks to the magnetism of gentle persuasion, the movement of one thing toward another through attraction, not force. It is about relationship, resonance, and the way soft movements can create real change. In the Yīn Water Rabbit year, these images help us frame the year not in terms of bold declarations, but in subtle shifts—the slow reweaving of relationships, the quiet adjustments of internal orientation, the power of suggestion rather than command.
The Rabbit is associated with Yīn Wood and the Liver system in Chinese medicine, but this year’s heavenly stem, guǐ (癸), overlays a water influence (the mother of wood) that can generate depth, mystery, and even a kind of ancestral echo. It is a year of flowing downward and inward. The water-rabbit pairing encourages us to engage with the unseen, the emotional, the buried and the liminal. It is also a Peach Blossom year in many Chinese astrological systems—a symbol associated with romance, allure, social dynamics, and at times, illusion. Attraction increases. But clarity can become harder to maintain.
Yin Water Rabbit Vibes
If we were to name the year in terms of feeling, it might be called "The Threshold." Not because something dramatic is erupting, but because it marks a space in between: a moment of careful transition. After the resource-gathering intensity of the Tiger and the structural endurance of the Ox, the Rabbit year asks us to step back and take stock. It's the quiet hallway between two rooms, the part of a conversation where you're not yet sure what to say next. The momentum hasn't stopped, but it has shifted tone, inviting us to pay closer attention to the small signs that tell us what’s ready to grow and what needs more time.
Rabbits are prey animals. They are sensitive, perceptive, and responsive. Their safety depends on their ability to detect subtle changes in environment and adjust course quickly. That is the tone of the year. The energy is sensitive and alert, but also easily overwhelmed. It is a year that rewards subtlety and caution. Bold moves may not be well-received. Softness and timing will matter.
The Yīn Water Rabbit brings a mood of nostalgia, emotionality, and complexity. It will be a year of undercurrents. Many people may find themselves revisiting past stories, old relationships, or unresolved emotions. There may be an unusual level of internal processing happening across communities. And like water wearing away stone, many of the year’s changes may be slow and persistent rather than sudden and obvious.
Planning, Decisions, and Health
Peach Blossoms in a Chinese-style painting
In practical terms, 2023 may not be a year for rapid expansion. Plans that require wide-scale infrastructure or quick adoption could falter. By contrast, small, flexible, iterative approaches are more likely to succeed. This is a year for tending, editing, and preparing. And also for rest. Yin Water is not about performance. It is about replenishment.
Decision-making in a Rabbit year benefits from intuition, but the emotional water influence can also make it harder to feel confident. Some may experience hesitation, second-guessing, or foggy thinking. These are not flaws in cognition; they reflect the qi environment. When the water is deep and the bottom isn’t visible, you take careful steps. That kind of discernment is the year’s real strength.
From a health perspective, the liver system may be particularly taxed. The liver governs the smooth flow of qi, and the yin water can dampen and constrain that movement. We might see more symptoms related to emotional stagnation, irritability, digestive distress, and fatigue. Gentle movement, warmth, and emotional processing will be important tools. The medicine of 2023 will not be about fixing things, but about holding space for recovery and reorientation.
People, Politics, and Passions
On the social and political stage, the Rabbit year is unlikely to bring the bombast of a Dragon or Tiger year, but it may expose tensions in quieter, more personal ways. Scandals, conflicts, and disagreements may revolve around feelings—who feels heard, who feels betrayed, who feels invisible. The qi is interpersonal, not institutional. The fault lines will be subtle, but they may run deep.
This may be a year where "soft power" shows its teeth. Influence could be wielded through framing, narrative, and emotional leverage. The Peach Blossom nature of the year may make public discourse more reactive and more performative. The desire to be liked, followed, or affirmed could shape decisions. And under it all, there may be a gnawing sense of unease—as if something vital is shifting out of sight, below the surface of ordinary conversation.
Culturally, it may be a year of beauty and anxiety. A year of resurgence in aesthetic values and a yearning for connection, but also of tension, grief, and psychic fatigue. The Rabbit year holds us in a kind of limbo—not quite here, not quite there. And while that space can be uncomfortable, it is also rich with possibility. In holding the tension between what has passed and what has not yet arrived, we build the capacity to step through when the door finally opens.
Looking ahead, the Yin Water Rabbit year may not stand out for its obvious events, but it will likely be defined by how it feels: submerged, tender, tangled, and deeply human. A year that prepares the soil more than it plants the seed. A year for remembering that care is a form of action. That listening is its own kind of strength.