Qi Node 21: Greater Snow Dàxuě 大雪

Yin Has Matured

Throughout the course of Fall and early Winter Yin qi has been growing and expanding, taking over the seasonal tasks and encouraging an editing and reflection on the work of Yang and the Summer.

The Peak of Yin

Yin is one side of the Yin Yang movement that is represented by various related qualities: Darkness, moisture, cool and cold temperatures, substance, form, heaviness, history, blood, ancestry, rumination, nostalgia. Yin is the definition of substance and it transcends the boundaries of what we think of us the world around us and connects all the substantive material of the universe. Yin qi is profoundly complex and because of that depth, it is intrinsically mysterious. Even if you could stare at it endlessly, analyze it and take it apart, Yin qi would always seem entirely familiar and simultaneously out-of-reach. Yin and Yang both ebb and flow at various times in the year and Winter Solstice is the time when the Yin qi has gathered and matured to fullest self. It is now a powerful feminine force that is both nurturing and demanding.

Winter Solstice marks the longest night and shortest day of the year. In many parts of the world the temperatures are cold and the ground is covered in snow. Even if the weather does not make it as easy to see the strength of Yin where you live, rest assured that the forces at work in our environment are much more potent than the temperature of the air or soil. Even in warm or tropical climates, the qi of the Winter is more retrospective and reserved, demanding that we eat differently, think differently and conduct ourselves differently than we do in the Summer.

Your Food Should Be Warm and Slow-Cooked

Because there is less Yang Qi available in the Winter generally, but especially around Solstice, your meals should be prepared in a way that deeply extracts their stored flavors and natures. Soups, braises, slow-roasts, and simmering are all great ways to use cooking to dig into what is hidden deep, making it available to nourish your body. Season your meats and vegetables with mild, warm spices like cumin, cinnamon, and nutmeg. Add some ginger and garlic to your sautee bases or in with your roasted vegetables. Take advantage of the squashes still stored from the end of the summer like Delicata, Kabocha, and Acorn. Drink a slightly salty broth with your meals or make a whole soup several times per week. This moisture helps to keep your digestion running smoothly. Avoid overeating as much as you can. No raw foods, smoothies, or salads this time of year.

Your Conduct Is Restrained

The enormity of Yin at the time of Solstice permeates our environs. People feel nostalgic or homesick, we yearn for connections with our friends and families, we are more oriented to naps and lazy days. These feels and inclinations are right and appropriate at this time of year. Yin gives us the opportunity to nourish ourselves from its depths — the same place that our lineage and memory come from. Even emotions that our Western culture categorizes as negative ones like sadness and regret are appropriate this time of year. Yin in its fullness makes it easier for us to reflect on the past and to glean wisdom from our actions both good and bad.

Significantly, the time around Winter Solstice is not the time of the year to start new projects, nor the time of the year to increase your marathon training regimen. It is a time for soft and mild activity that does not cause a person to sweat, for stretching and breathing. It is a time to imagine the possibilities for the coming year and to slowly organize your thoughts and goals. It is not time to plan exactly, just the time to wonder and hope and imagine. Let your mind be carried into the myriad variations of your life, your family, and your work.

Treating every month of the year as if it were July is like driving your car with your foot pressed hard on the gas. You can do it, but your fuel will not last and in many contexts, your driving will be dangerous. You can keep doing everything you do in the summer all through the winter but it costs more. You will require your diminished yang qi to rouse itself from its hibernation and to flare bright and strong for you to get things done the way you want. It will respond to your call but for how long and to what degree? Are you always fighting fatigue, drinking cups of coffee or cans of redbull? Is your hair thinner than you’d like? Your metabolism slower? your bowels less reliable? These and many more can all be signs of your yang qi being overextended and your body’s lack of yin nourishment. If we do what we’ve always done, we will get what we’ve always got. Can you begin to reorganize your life to allow for more replenishment? For more introspection? How can you take steps to ease the demands you place on your body? It can start with something as small as drinking tea while starting out your front window, thinking about the last time you spent with nothing on your mind.

Qi Node 20: 小雪 Xiǎoxuě (Lesser Snow)

The name of this node carries restraint: Xiǎoxuě 小雪, “Lesser Snow.” That first character Xiǎo 小 is the same character we use for “little” or for “small” in English. So it’s not no snow and not heavy snow. It’s just a hint of snow or in some climates the suggestion of snow, basically just enough to tell you Winter is deepening, but not yet in full expression. This node marks a subtle uptick in the potency of Winter—a refinement in the season’s character rather than a dramatic turn.

Lesser Snow does not mean lesser importance. It means the cold has arrived in earnest, but its most severe manifestations are still to come. The weather bites, but does not yet bruise. The frost lingers, but the earth has not sealed. It is Winter’s quiet overture, the first real layering of stillness over the surface of the world.

The descent of yīn qì 陰氣 has settled into structure. The days are brief and the light is pale. The cold is not momentary anymore—it is defining. And with it comes the seasonal instruction: simplify further, quiet more deeply, trust the small and consistent patterns.

Snow in Potential, Not in Force

Like all seasonal changes, Xiǎoxuě 小雪 doesn’t bring Winter in one dramatic stroke. Instead the season arrives in stages, like breath against a window—barely visible, but unmistakably present. In most climates, snow doesn’t yet accumulate in this phase, and in some, it doesn’t fall at all. But its possibility is in the air. The world smells different. The wind has lost all softness.

The presence of snow in this node is more symbolic than literal. It represents the crystallization of qi. The contraction of moisture, the compression of movement, the beginning of form born from stillness. Even when there is no snow on the ground, we can feel its intent settling in. The grasses stiffen. The trees stop speaking. Water loses its eagerness to flow.

There’s a tension in this potential—a coiled stillness that hints at what’s to come. It’s a teaching moment, cosmologically speaking. We’re asked to understand the value of potential energy, not just the kinetic kind. This qi node encourages us to learn how to sit inside a moment that isn’t fully formed, and to draw nourishment from what hasn’t quite arrived.

This is an ideal time for observing without interpreting and for sensing patterns before they become explicit. Just as snow rests in the clouds before falling, this moment asks you to rest in awareness before action. It’s a kind of pause pregnant with meaning.

Embracing the Subtle Descent

By Xiǎoxuě 小雪, the descent of the season is no longer theory—it is embodied. But unlike the dramatic drop-offs of equinoxes or solstices, this descent moves like sediment through water—slow, consistent, undeniable. You may not even notice how much has changed until you pause and look around.

The most vital aspect of this qi node is learning how to meet the descent without resistance. There’s a cultural reflex, especially in Western life, to brace against slowing down. We try to sustain brightness long past the natural point of dimming. But Xiǎoxuě 小雪 offers a different kind of intelligence—the kind that teaches us to lean into the weight of the season instead of fighting it.

You may notice yourself longing for more time alone, or becoming less interested in social plans, noise, or fast-moving schedules. These are not signs of burnout. These are signs of alignment. Your system is responding to the deeper pull of yīn 陰.

The descent also brings a subtle reorganization of the emotional landscape. What once felt urgent no longer commands attention. Certain worries lose their teeth. Your internal focus narrows. This is not retreat in the negative sense—it is return. Return to what matters. Return to the inner hearth.

To embrace the descent is to stop asking for permission to slow down. It is to inhabit the season as it is, and to trust that what is pared down is not lost, but clarified.

This is the node that teaches you how to be with what remains—and how to let that be enough.

Aligning Conduct with Xiǎoxuě 小雪

Let your actions now become smaller but more rooted. This is the time to keep your systems warm, your days simple, and your inner fire steady—not stoked, but tended.

1. Honor the Dry Cold

As temperatures drop, so does ambient moisture. This is taxing for the Lungs, skin, and sinuses. Nourish your system with foods that moisten and warm—pear with honey, roasted squash, barley with lily bulb and dates. Add sesame, walnuts, and small amounts of warming herbs like ginger and cardamom.

A humidifier in the home, especially where you sleep, can ease the transition.

2. Practice Short Outdoor Contact

Let your body feel the cold, but briefly. A ten-minute walk wrapped in layers. A few breaths on the back porch before tea. Contact with the elements now reminds your system what season it’s in—so it can adjust more intelligently. But don’t linger. Cold is to be acknowledged, not absorbed.

3. Protect the Periphery

Cover your neck and lower back. Keep the feet warm at all times. Avoid direct wind exposure. At this stage, drafts are not neutral—they’re depleting. Keep yourself sealed, as the trees now are, as the seeds underground have always been.

Warmth now is your shield, not your indulgence.

4. Refine, Don’t Rearrange

No more life overhauls. No productivity sprints. Let go of reinvention. Instead, hone what already exists. Refine your rhythms, reinforce your rituals. Let your habits become the bones of your day. This is not the time to start something new. It is the time to stay with what is working.

5. Nourish from the Bones Out

Continue cooking with depth: broths, stews, porridges, braises. Use bone-in meats and root vegetables. Think rich but digestible. The Kidney system, which governs Winter, thrives on long, slow nourishment. Avoid raw food. Avoid icy drinks. Cook with time, and eat with attention.

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Xiǎoxuě 小雪 is the most understated of the Winter nodes. But its wisdom is profound. It teaches that preparation is not always loud. That rest does not mean absence. That stillness is not stagnation.

Let this node guide you into the quieter center of Winter. Wrap yourself in rhythm. Choose warmth. Choose quiet. Choose the small, deliberate action over the dramatic shift.

Lesser Snow can remind you that subtle is not the opposite of powerful but is often its truest expression.

Qi Node 19: 立冬 Lìdōng (Winter Begins)

It happens quietly, but definitively. One morning you step outside, and the light has changed. The dampness in the air is no longer soft or fragrant—it bites. The earth, once pliable and generous, begins to firm beneath your feet. You can feel it in your bones. Lìdōng 立冬 has arrived.

This is the beginning of Winter—not just by calendar, but by qi. The character lì 立 means “to stand” or “to establish,” and dōng 冬 means “winter.” So Lìdōng 立冬 literally means "Winter stands." It is no longer forming. It is here.

In this phase, the world doesn’t just get cold—it begins to embody Cold as a force. This is not a temporary chill. This is a new energetic dominance. Yīn qì 陰氣 is no longer growing or gathering. It now governs. This is the start of dà yīn 大陰—Big Yin—and the world is leaning into its long descent.

From Damp to Cold, From Metal to Water

The previous node, Shuāngjiàng 霜降, lingered in Earth’s holding pattern—dense air, early frost, soft ground soaked with Autumn’s letting go. But here, with Lìdōng 立冬, the qi shifts definitively from damp to cold, from yielding to firm, from Earth to Water.

What was heavy with moisture is now sharp with chill. The moisture doesn’t cling anymore—it recedes, stiffens, crystallizes. The fog no longer wraps gently around your ankles. Now it bites at the skin, whispering of ice. The world is paring down, not just shedding, but locking in. The wet decay of fallen leaves gives way to hardening soil. You may find yourself surprised at how suddenly it happens—how quickly the earth begins to resist your steps, how suddenly the plants go from golden to gray.

The Water phase begins here, not as element but as worldview. Water doesn’t push. It carves. It seeps. It endures. In the cosmological sequence, Water follows Metal. The clarity and refinement of Autumn now give way to depth, to stillness, to duration. There is nothing hasty about Water. And there is nothing quick about Winter. We are being called into the long game now.

Enjoy the Cold While It Is Young

Before the deep freeze settles in, there is a brief and often overlooked pleasure in early Winter’s clarity. The cold is not yet brutal. It doesn’t yet weigh down the spirit or stiffen the joints. It enlivens. You may find that the first truly cold morning of the season wakes you up in a way nothing else can. The air feels honest. The sky, newly scrubbed of humidity, offers sharp edges and long, clean light.

This early phase of Winter holds a kind of promise—a reminder that stillness can also be invigorating. There’s something deeply satisfying about bundling up for a brisk walk and returning to a warm room, a pot on the stove, the contrast between cold skin and inner warmth. It’s a moment of sensual awareness that doesn’t come in the seasons of abundance or even in the cozy depths of January. This is clarity with gentleness. A sharpness that doesn’t yet cut.

So walk in it. Feel it. Let it speak to your skin and your breath. Just don’t stay long. Lìdōng 立冬 is not about challenging the cold, but greeting it. You’re not meant to brave the elements. You’re meant to acknowledge them. Nod at the gate before going back inside.

Aligning Conduct with Lìdōng 立冬

This is the season to start acting like Winter is here, even if it doesn’t quite look that way yet. Begin reinforcing your internal systems. Your practices now should preserve, protect, and fortify—not push, extend, or challenge.

1. Keep Warm and Contained

Layer your clothing. Wrap your neck. Cover your lower back. These are not just comfort choices—they are energetic boundaries. Wind and cold are among the most invasive of the six evils in Chinese medicine, and this is the time of year they slip in when we’re not paying attention.

Even brief exposure to cold wind can throw off the system now. Avoid bare feet on cold floors. Wear socks indoors. Bundle early.

2. Reinforce the Evening Ritual

The quiet of Winter begins with early nights. Darkness falls sooner and should be welcomed, not fought. Begin your winding down process before the sun disappears if you can. Avoid screen time at night—particularly in the hour before bed. Let your eyes and nervous system recalibrate.

Now is the time to get excited about sleep. Not just as rest, but as restoration. Dreaming becomes part of your medicine now.

3. Eat Richer, Deeper

This is when the slow-cooker takes center stage. Cook with bones, roots, and warming spices. Focus on dishes that take time—soups, stews, porridges. Let the kitchen be a place of low, consistent heat. No raw foods now. No cold drinks. And minimize sugar, which can deplete the Kidneys, the core organ system associated with Winter.

Begin to include more seaweeds, dark leafy greens, black sesame, walnuts, and mushrooms—foods that nourish jīng 精 and support depth.

4. Start Your Winter Reading

Let your mind follow the season. It’s time to get back into the long books, the slow podcasts, the hobbies that don’t reward speed. Knit something. Paint something. Write something no one will read. Sit with silence.

Winter favors introspection. Let your inner world expand now that the outer one is narrowing.

5. Reduce Sweating and Intensity

It’s time to retire intense cardio, hot yoga, and anything that produces heavy perspiration. Sweating now leads to fluid depletion and weakens your ability to retain heat. Movement should be internal and conserving—tai chi, qi gong, gentle strength training, restorative yoga, walking.

Keep your body active, but never to the point of exhaustion.

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There is a confidence to Lìdōng 立冬. It does not beg for attention. It simply arrives. There’s a stillness that isn’t sleepy but poised—like a mountain at dawn. That’s what this node offers: the chance to begin deepening, to prepare without panic, and to enjoy the clarity of a season that makes no apologies for what it is.

Let the cold awaken you. Let the dark slow you. Let the season shape your conduct with its quiet instructions.

Winter is not on the horizon. It is here. Stand with it.

Qi Node 13: 立秋 Lìqiū (Autumn Begins)

The Quiet Arrival of Something New

It is still hot outside. The sun still rises early and lingers late. The air still hums with the weight of summer. And yet, something is changing.

This is the qi node of Lìqiū, “Autumn Begins.” The name alone feels implausible. How could autumn already be here?

But Chinese cosmology doesn’t wait for the leaves to fall to announce the shift of season. It listens earlier, more carefully. It marks the moment Yin begins to rise.

It begins slowly, almost imperceptibly. The mornings are cooler—barely, but enough to make you notice. The breeze carries a different edge. The crickets sound thinner. The world doesn’t feel quite as outward as it did in July. Yang has begun its descent, and Yin is stirring from its long sleep.

The First Turning Inward

In the Daoist calendar, this is not just the start of a new season. It is a turning of the entire cosmological tide.

Where summer was a time of expression, expansion, and manifestation, autumn begins the return toward refinement, containment, and reflection. If summer is the fullness of fruit on the branch, autumn is the seed within that fruit—small, hidden, holding potential.

Lìqiū invites us to begin the long, slow process of turning inward. Not all at once. Not dramatically. Just a gentle shift—a lessening of outward striving, a softening of urgency, a reorientation toward what lies within.

In the natural world, trees begin to draw sap back toward their roots. Grains start to dry. Insects begin to burrow. Life contracts in preparation for rest. So should we.

Unresolved Summer and the Burden of Lingering Heat

The classics warn that if summer heat is not properly released before autumn begins, it can lead to disease. Heat that lingers in the system may combine with the dryness of fall and produce patterns that are difficult to resolve—dry coughs, skin eruptions, stubborn constipation, unprocessed emotional agitation.

In this sense, Lìqiū is not just a threshold—it’s an audit. It shows us what remains unprocessed. What hasn’t cleared. What must be addressed before the descent continues.

If Yang has not been allowed to recede, it may now stagnate. If we refuse to soften our activity, the transition can become jagged. And when we treat this time as an extension of summer, we miss the invitation to begin shedding what we no longer need.

The Philosophy of Restraint

Modern life rarely makes space for seasonal restraint. We are taught to push through, stay productive, plan ahead. But Lìqiū offers a different kind of wisdom: one that values clarity over volume, precision over pace.

This is the season of distillation—of editing your life down to what still matters. It is the beginning of discernment. The first whisper that says: not everything you gathered in summer will serve you in fall.

To align with Lìqiū is to begin listening for what is essential.

What to Do

This node calls for a quieting—not a full retreat, but a subtle downshift. Begin to treat your body like the season is changing, even if the temperature hasn’t caught up yet.

• Wake slightly earlier. Mornings now carry the clearest air of the day.

• Start to eat more simply. Warm grains and lightly cooked foods support digestion as the air dries.

• Ease out of raw fruits and salads. Cooked apples, pears, and steamed greens begin to replace summer’s melon and cucumber.

• Drink teas that clear lingering heat. Chrysanthemum, mint, or mulberry leaf can help.

• Protect your lungs. Avoid late-night outdoor exposure and breathing in too much dry air.

• Walk at dusk. Let the evening wind remind your body of its own rhythm.

• Let go of one thing. A habit, a task, a demand you’ve outgrown. Not in grief—just in rhythm.

Qi Node 8: 小满 Xiǎomǎn (Grain Sprouts)

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 3: 惊蛰 Jīngzhé (Insects Awaken)

“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

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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.