What is Qi 氣
Written by Saher Hussaini L.Ac.
When studying Traditional Chinese Medicine (TCM), qi (氣) is one of the very first concepts we encounter. The Chinese character can be translated as “air,” “breath,” “vital energy,” or “life force,” and it quite literally captures the essence of what keeps us alive. Qi is the animating force that underlies all physiological and energetic functions within the body.
To begin this journal entry, I want to offer a straightforward discussion of qi before moving into a more personal reflection.
There’s a quote that nearly every TCM student in the West comes across at the beginning of their Chinese medicine study and it is one I find myself returning to often: “Qi is matter on the verge of becoming energy, or energy at the point of materializing."-Ted Kaptchuk, The Web That Has No Weaver
Qi is the invisible, foundational current that animates the body, sustains its functioning and orchestrates the balance between our physical, emotional, and spiritual selves. It is often likened to breath, electricity, or the flow of water. It is not a tangible substance in the sense of Western biomedicine, but rather a dynamic force.
According to Chinese medical theory, qi travels through the meridians, which are channels mapped through the body like rivers, corresponding to organ systems and their related functions. Acupuncture points are thus selected along these meridians to guide and replenish the qi when it is deficient, stagnant or obstructed.
One way to begin to grasp qi is to compare it to atoms, the unseen particles that form the structure of all matter. Although invisible to the human eye, atoms make up our tissues, initiate movement, create our thoughts and create sensation. Qi functions similarly: It is what gathers, flows, transforms and gives rise to the very essence of our being and the greater universe.
Although I’ve now had acupuncture countless times, I felt the force of qi most profoundly not in the clinic, but during my wedding last year.
In the weeks leading up to the big weekend, my energy, my qi, was undeniably strained: I was holding onto emotional and familial weight, trying to stay calm in what felt like a drowning sense of overwhelm. But when the day arrived, standing across from my husband beneath the Tennessee sun, surrounded by the chirping of birds and flutters of butterflies, I sensed a palpable shift. It was no longer the adrenaline or nerves, it was the sensation of qi flowing through me: An electrical form of stillness, the tears that came before I even spoke, the way the air itself seemed to hold its breath as we exchanged our vows.
My breath relaxed and deepend, my heart softened. And in that moment, the force that animates life, what I and many other acupuncturists study and strive to regulate in others, was unmistakably present in me.
There was no needle and no herb. Just presence, an audience filled with overwhelming love and that feeling flowing through my chest.
That too, is qi.
