A Warm Belly and a Gentle Breath: Notes on Spleen Qi

Dear body,

I’ve been thinking of you lately.

Of the heaviness you carry.

Of how meals feel like work sometimes.

Of how the fog doesn’t lift, even after rest.

And how you still try—every day—to make something from what I give you.

I know now: it’s not about doing more. It’s about doing softer.

The Spleen, in Chinese medicine, is the great weaver of nourishment. It takes what we eat, what we feel, and what we breathe—and spins it into life force. Into clarity. Into stamina. Into quiet joy. But the Spleen is shy. It doesn’t like cold. It doesn’t like rushing. It needs warmth, rhythm, and kindness. It needs soup. It needs rice and sweet potato. It needs silence between bites and soft footsteps on hardwood floors.

Food becomes love when it’s warm.

So here’s a whisper of a menu:

• Morning congee with a swirl of cinnamon

• Midday ginger tea in a mug that warms both palms

• Roasted squash and millet in the evening, with quiet music playing and no need to speak

Let the cold things go, for now. The icy smoothies. The salads. The skipped meals and the bites grabbed standing up. Your Spleen is asking for sanctuary, not stimulation.

Breath becomes medicine when it’s slow.

Breathe in through the nose. Down to the womb. Let it stir your digestion. Let it shake the tiredness loose from your limbs.

One hand on the belly. One hand on the heart. You don’t need a mat. You don’t need a schedule. Just… remember.

Your breath is the first digestive enzyme.

And movement? Let it be honey, not fire.

Walk. Slowly. Turn your head to see what’s blooming. Move your arms like they’re painting the sky. Do Qi Gong in the kitchen. Stretch while the kettle boils.

Let the joy come back to your body—not the discipline.

The JOY.

This is how we remember the Spleen.

Not with rules. Not with force.

But with ritual. With rhythm.

With a reverence for warm bowls, slow mornings, and the sacredness of arrival.

Come back to your belly.

Come back to your breath. Come back to your Self.

You are enough.

You are not late.

You are allowed to be soft.