The Art of Emotional Regulation: Balancing Your Internal Climate
By Mae — Herbalist. Healer. Your grandmother's remedies, backed by a nurse's knowledge. ·
The Internal Weather Report
It’s November here in Portland. The rain has settled in for the long haul, turning the world outside my window into a soft, grey watercolor. In the clinic, this is the time of year when people come to me feeling frayed. When the light wanes, our internal rhythms often follow suit. I see it in the tension in their shoulders and the way their breath hitches when they talk about their to-do lists. They call it stress, but what they’re really struggling with is emotional regulation—the ability to navigate the internal climate without getting swept away by the gale.
After twenty-five years on the floor at OHSU, I learned to read a patient’s vitals like a map. I knew how to look at a monitor and see the physiological cascade of a panic attack. But it wasn’t until I returned to my roots, studying the traditional Chinese perspective on Qi and the emotions, that I understood the full picture. We aren't just machines with faulty wiring; we are ecosystems. And like any ecosystem, we need a balance of moisture, heat, and movement to thrive.
The Physiology of the Pause
In nursing school, we were taught the sympathetic nervous system—the 'fight or flight' response. It’s brilliant for survival, but it’s a terrible way to live your Tuesday afternoon. When you feel that surge of irritation or anxiety, your amygdala has hijacked your prefrontal cortex. You aren't thinking; you’re reacting.
From a traditional Chinese medicine lens, we might say your Liver Qi is stagnating or rising too sharply. When emotions aren't allowed to circulate, they become heat. And heat, if left unchecked, burns through your resources. The clinical fix is to downregulate the nervous system; the ancestral fix is to ground the energy back into the earth. You need both.
Three Anchors for Regulation
When you feel the storm front moving in, don't try to stop the wind. Just build a shelter. Here is how I practice regulation in my own life, using techniques that honor both my stethoscope and my herbalist’s mortar and pestle.
1. The Vagus Nerve Reset (The Clinical Anchor)
If you are feeling overwhelmed, your body is likely locked in a high-alert state. To manually override this, we use the vagus nerve. I often teach my workshop students the 'Physiological Sigh.' It’s simple: Inhale deeply through your nose, then—before you exhale—take a second, shorter sip of air to fully inflate the lungs. Then, let out a long, slow sigh through your mouth. Do this three times. The second inhale stretches the tiny air sacs in your lungs, which signals the brain to release acetylcholine, effectively putting the brakes on your stress response.
2. The Hawthorn and Rose Tea Ritual (The Herbal Anchor)
In my grandmother’s kitchen, we didn’t just drink tea for flavor; we drank it for intention. When I feel emotionally brittle, I turn to Hawthorn berries (Shan Zha) and dried rosebuds. Hawthorn is known in herbalism for its affinity with the heart, both physically and metaphorically. It helps move blood and ease that tight, 'stuck' feeling in the chest. Rose moves Qi and lifts the spirit. The act of boiling the water, watching the herbs unfurl, and holding the warm mug is a sensory anchor. It forces you to slow down to the temperature of the tea.
3. Tai Chi Foundations (The Ancestral Anchor)
I practice Tai Chi every morning, rain or shine. You don’t need to be a master to use these principles. When your emotions feel chaotic, find your 'Root.' Stand with your feet hip-width apart, knees soft—never locked. Imagine a thread pulling the crown of your head toward the sky while your tailbone sinks toward the earth. This physical alignment creates space in your torso. When the body is aligned, the Qi can flow, and the mind finds it much easier to settle. Spend three minutes just standing this way. Notice where you’re holding tension and consciously drop it, like leaves falling from a tree.
Moving Through, Not Pushing Away
We have a tendency in this culture to treat emotions like an infection—something to be cured or eradicated as quickly as possible. But emotions are just information. They are the body’s way of communicating that a boundary has been crossed, a need isn't being met, or a memory is being stirred.
Regulation isn't about being perfectly calm all the time. That’s not human. It’s about increasing your 'window of tolerance.' It’s about knowing that when the rain comes, you have a sturdy umbrella and a warm place to sit. It’s about trusting that you have the tools to return to center, no matter how much the world outside is shaking.
As we head deeper into these shorter days, be gentle with yourself. You are doing the work of a lifetime, and that is a slow, steady, and noble process.
How are you holding space for your own weather this week? I’d love to hear what rituals help you stay grounded when the world feels loud. Drop a note in the comments—I’m always here to listen.