The previous post introduced the meridian system – the network of pathways within the body through which Traditional Chinese Medicine (TCM) understands energy to circulate. What exactly is this energy?
Different traditions have given it different names: chi (气) in Chinese medicine, prana in the yogic traditions, lung in Tibetan Buddhist practice. The terminology varies, and the philosophical frameworks behind each term are not identical. Yet the underlying recognition is similar – that there is a vital force that animates the living body, and its quality, strength and circulation have a direct bearing on our physical health, emotional balance, and clarity of mind.
For a yin yoga practitioner, understanding the quality of this primordial energy or life force deepens both the practice and the perspective we bring to it.
Chi in TCM
In TCM, chi is both the substance that flows through the meridian pathways and the broader animating force of life itself. It is present in the air we breathe, the food we eat, the movement of the seasons, and the functioning of every organ system. Chi is not static – it is constantly being generated, circulated, consumed, and replenished. The quality of this cycle – whether chi is flowing freely, stagnating, or becoming depleted – determines much of what we experience as health or disease, vitality or exhaustion, emotional resilience or fragility.
TCM organises vital energy into a framework known as the Three Treasures: jing (精), chi (气), and shen (神). Jing is our constitutional essence, the deep reserve of vitality we inherit at birth. It is stored in the Kidneys and is understood to deplete gradually over the course of a lifetime. It can be conserved and supported but not easily replenished once lost. Chi, in its more specific sense within this framework, is the energy circulating daily that we attempt to cultivate and influence through breath, nourishment, rest, and practice. It is more renewable than jing and more immediately responsive to changes in our lifestyle. Shen is the radiance of the mind and spirit – the quality of presence, awareness, and inner light that is visible when jing and chi are abundant and flowing well. When the Three Treasures are in harmony, there is a felt sense of wholeness – the body is vital, the mind is clear, and the spirit is at ease.
Prana in the yogic tradition
The yogic traditions offer a parallel understanding. Prana is the Sanskrit term for the vital energy that sustains all living things, circulating through the body along subtle channels known as nadis. Pranayama – the yogic science of breath regulation – is the primary method for working with prana, directing and refining its flow through controlled inhalation, exhalation, and retention. The breath is understood not merely as a respiratory function but as a way to connect the physical body and the energetic body.
The point here is not that chi is the same as prana, because there are differences between the Chinese and Indian philosophical systems from which they emerge. The idea is to recognise that both traditions, developed independently over thousands of years, arrived at a remarkably similar insight – that there is a dimension of human vitality that cannot be fully explained by the physical body as can be seen in an X-ray or MRI (e.g. the skeletal structure, muscles, etc).
Yin yoga, with its roots in both Taoist and yogic lineages, sits at the intersection of these traditions and draws from both.
What this means on the mat
For the practitioner, chi and prana can manifest as felt experiences, rather than merely being an abstract or theoretical concept. In a yin yoga class, energy manifests in subtle yet tangible ways – the warmth or tingling that spreads through the target area during a sustained hold, the sense of flow and redistribution during the rebound after a posture is released, or the quality of vitality that follows a thoughtfully-sequenced practice. These sensations are not incidental to the practice; they are evidence that the practice is working at a level beyond just the muscular or the skeletal.
The breath plays a particular role here. In more active yoga styles, the breath is often deliberately controlled – lengthened, directed, or synchronised with movement. In yin yoga, we observe the breath rather than manipulate it, allowing the breath to settle into its own natural rhythm as the body stills. In my experience, allowing the breath to be is itself a way of supporting the flow of chi. When the breath is not consciously being directed or manipulated, the energetic body is free to respond to the sustained stimulus of the posture without interference. Many practitioners notice that their breath changes over the course of a long-held pose – becoming slower, deeper, or more spacious – often without any conscious effort on their part. This is the breath finding its own way toward balance, and it is one of the simplest and clearest signs that the energetic dimension of the practice is engaged.
A deeper practice
Understanding chi or prana is not a prerequisite for practising yin yoga. A practitioner with no knowledge of the theory of the meridian pathways or chi flow will still benefit from the physical work of the postures, the nervous system regulation that stillness provides, and the mental clarity that comes from sustained attention.
However, an awareness of the energetic dimension would enrich the practice considerably. It gives us a reason to pay attention not only to the physical sensation of a posture but to the subtler currents that the posture is designed to support – and it begins to explain why a thoughtfully sequenced yin class can leave us feeling not merely stretched but genuinely nourished.
With this foundation in place, we are ready to look more closely at the specific meridian pathways that yin yoga engages.