The Art of Emotional Regulation: Balancing the Qi Within
By Mae — Herbalist. Healer. Your grandmother's remedies, backed by a nurse's knowledge. ·
The Pendulum of Feeling
It’s August here in Portland, and the light is starting to tilt just a little bit, golden and long. In my garden, the peppermint is sprawling, and the medicinal herbs are at their peak. But as I sit here on my back porch, sipping a cup of chrysanthemum tea, I’ve been thinking about the emails landing in my inbox lately. So many of you are feeling frayed. You’re describing a kind of internal turbulence—the feeling that you’re constantly reacting to the world, rather than living in it.
In my twenty-five years at OHSU, I watched the monitors beep and the heart rates climb in patients who were physically healthy but emotionally dysregulated. They were stuck in a ‘fight or flight’ loop. Now, in my herbal practice, I see the same thing. We call it ‘Liver Fire’ in traditional Chinese medicine—that excess heat and irritability that clouds the spirit. Modern science calls it nervous system dysregulation. They’re both talking about the same thing: the loss of your center.
Emotional regulation isn’t about being calm all the time. That’s a myth sold to us by people who haven’t lived enough life. It’s about being able to return to your center after the storm. It’s about the pendulum swinging, but knowing exactly how to bring it back to the middle.
The Physiology of the ‘Pause’
When I was a nurse, I learned that the Vagus nerve is our greatest ally in cooling down the system. When you’re stressed, your body is bathed in cortisol and adrenaline. Your heart rate quickens, your breath becomes shallow, and your perspective narrows. You stop seeing the ‘whole’ and start seeing only the ‘threat.’
From a clinical standpoint, you need to physically signal to your brain that you are safe. From a traditional perspective, we want to harmonize the Qi, or life force, which has become stagnant or erratic.
I always tell my students: you cannot think your way out of a physiological response. If you’re panicked, telling yourself to ‘calm down’ is like trying to stop a runaway train by shouting at it. You have to use your body to talk to your brain.
A Simple Ritual for Regulation
If you find yourself spiraling—maybe you’ve just read a difficult email or had a tense moment with a loved one—I want you to try this. It’s a synthesis of what I learned in the hospital and what I learned from my mother’s kitchen.
1. The Physical Anchor: Place your feet flat on the ground. Feel the floor. This is ‘Grounding.’ In Tai Chi, we talk about rooting yourself like an old oak tree. If you are standing, bend your knees just a hair. Unclench your jaw. Your jaw is a direct line to your stress response; let it go slack.
2. The Herbal Sip: I keep a jar of dried lemon balm and rose petals on my desk. Lemon balm is a nervine—it gently calms the nervous system without sedating you. Rose is for the heart. Pour hot water over a teaspoon of each. Don’t rush the steeping. Watch the water turn color. This process of waiting is, in itself, a form of regulation. It forces you to slow down the frantic pace of your thoughts.
3. The Physiological Sigh: This is a technique I used to use in the ICU. Inhale deeply through your nose, then take a second, shorter sip of air to fully inflate the lungs. Then, exhale slowly through pursed lips, like you’re blowing through a straw. Do this three times. The double-inhale pops open the tiny air sacs in your lungs, and the long exhale dumps the carbon dioxide that builds up when we’re stressed.
Moving the Stagnation
In my practice, I always emphasize movement. If you’re feeling an emotion that you can’t digest—anger, grief, anxiety—it needs somewhere to go. If you hold it in, it becomes 'stagnant Qi.'
I practice Tai Chi every morning at 6:00 AM. It’s not about fitness; it’s about slow, intentional weight-shifting. It teaches you how to move through space without resistance. When you’re feeling dysregulated, try moving. Not a HIIT workout that spikes your heart rate further, but something fluid. Walk slowly. Stretch. Do some gentle hip circles. Help your body process that adrenaline so it doesn't get trapped in your shoulders or your gut.
Wisdom Takes Time
I’m 62 now, and I’ve learned that life is a series of arrivals and departures—of people, of seasons, of feelings. The goal isn't to stop the feelings from arriving; the goal is to be a gracious host. You welcome the joy, you acknowledge the grief, and you learn how to escort them out when the time is right.
Don’t try to be perfect at this. Start with the tea. Start with the breath. Start by noticing when the pendulum has swung too far. Your body is the wisest house you will ever live in—trust its signals, and give it the care it deserves.
How are you holding up this August? Are you finding your center, or does it feel like the current is pulling you a bit too hard? Let’s talk about it in the comments below—I’d love to hear what’s helping you stay grounded right now.