The last post in this series broadened the notion of spirit as conscious awareness by detailing the five shen of traditional Chinese medicine (TCM)—the different facets of consciousness that make up the human experience. TCM teaches that we are amalgamations of earth and spirit, standing “between Heaven and Earth” and serving as stewards of both realms. This Eastern wisdom isn’t far removed from the Serbian proverb—now a pop culture aphorism: “Be humble, for you are made of earth. Be noble, for you are made of stars.”

If the Eastern idea of distinct spiritual energies residing within us feels archaic, Western science also acknowledges that we embody a spectrum of conscious experience that correlates with different brain wave frequencies. More on that in a future post, but for now, the following basic model can help us better understand the workings of spiritual medicine.

Illness is often assumed to flow in one direction: physical maladies, biochemical imbalances, and genetic predispositions give rise to mental and emotional distress. But the door swings both ways. As previously discussed, mental and emotional states powerfully influence biochemistry, as revealed in the field of psychoneuroendocrinology. Even gene expression can be modified through thoughts and emotions via the mechanisms of epigenetics. With that refresher in place, we are ready to integrate the spiritual dimension into the equation.

We think thoughts and feel emotions. This combination of cognition and feeling—what we might call the bodymind—gives rise to experiential awareness. But what if the bodymind is not the source of conscious awareness, but rather its instrument? Look deeper, and you will find other layers of consciousness contributing to our lived experience. In TCM, it is clear: the spiritual forces of the organs—the five shen—are the primary drivers from which thoughts and emotions arise. Little emphasis is placed on the brain; the nervous system is understood as being governed by the Heart-mind, or Shen, rooted in the energetic center of the Heart.

Image by Sora, OpenAI

This leads us to a foundational axiom of TCM central to spiritual medicine: all disease originates from an imbalance—whether through repression or suppression—of emotions stemming from stress and trauma. Deep-seated worry and anger are as toxic to the bodymind as chronic exposure to mercury or radon. Environmental toxins, toxicants, and infections are significant contributors to illness, but emotional toxins are the cause—they alter the internal terrain of the body, making it more vulnerable to these external influences.

Let’s consider a concrete example. Living one’s life purpose is perhaps the deepest imperative of the Heart-mind. Work, play, and creative expression are all manifestations of spirit, impulses that arise from our spiritual core. (We are human beings first and human doings second.) That which blocks our spiritual expression—our purpose—harms the bodymind in a stepwise fashion.

Repeatedly telling a child that their love of drawing is worthless, or that they will never amount to anything, plants a seed of imbalance. That seed germinates into self-doubt, insecurity, and fear of the future. As the child matures into adolescence, they may become vulnerable to addictive behaviors in an effort to numb emotional pain. Persistent feelings of unworthiness may manifest as anxiety or depression. These mental states can spiral into destructive behaviors and, eventually, chronic illness. Our inability to sustain healthy routines—eating a nutrient-dense diet, getting restorative sleep, exercising regularly—is often (if not always) rooted in a disconnection from our spiritual nature.

Here’s the good news: just as there is post-traumatic stress, there is also post-traumatic growth. This is far more than a positive reframe; it speaks to the very purpose of our existence. When I tuck my daughter into bed at night, I wish for her to live, learn, and grow in a world free from pain and suffering. But not only is this wish unrealistic, it would also deny her the opportunity to reach her highest spiritual potential. You can’t climb Maslow’s pyramid to the capstone of self-actualization without encountering friction.

That said, I also acknowledge that some people are absolutely given more than they can bear. Here, too, spiritual medicine offers a balm—in the strength drawn from community, and in a quiet, often unexpected moment of grace that meets us in our darkest hours.

That’s where we’re headed next.