What Is Qigong?

And why more people are turning to this ancient practice for connection, calm, and wellbeing

Many people have heard of tai chi, but fewer know about qigong (pronounced “chee-gong”) — even though tai chi is actually a form of qigong.

Qigong is an ancient Chinese practice that combines breath, movement, and intention to help you connect more deeply to your body. Rooted in Chinese Medicine, it works with the understanding that our health is influenced not only by the physical body, but also by the flow of energy throughout it.

Through gentle movement and awareness, qigong helps to clear stagnation and support a more natural state of flow within the body, mind, and spirit.

While many people initially come to qigong for stress relief or physical wellbeing, the practice often becomes something much deeper.

Personally, I think one of the biggest misunderstandings about qigong and tai chi is that they are simply forms of exercise.

Of course, regular practice can improve flexibility, strength, balance, coordination, and overall health — but these tend to become by-products of the practice rather than the sole focus.

At its heart, qigong is about relationship.

Relationship with breath.

Relationship with your body.

Relationship with your emotions.

Relationship with the natural rhythms within and around you.

For many years we’ve been taught that the experts on our body exist outside of us. That our role is simply to override, manage, push, fix, or ignore what our body is trying to communicate.

Qigong offers another way.

It begins from the understanding that the body is inherently intelligent.

That when we slow down enough to listen, the body often tells us what it needs.

This doesn’t replace health practitioners or medical support. In fact, I believe practices like qigong can help us work more collaboratively with our health because we become more connected, aware, and responsive within ourselves.

One of the things I notice most often in students who practice consistently is a gradual reconnection to their own body and its needs.

Initially, people may not have words for it. They simply know they want to keep coming back because they feel different afterwards — calmer, more grounded, more themselves.

Over time, many notice a marked reduction in anxiety and tension.

I see students begin to soften.

Their movements become less rigid and more fluid. Areas of the body that once felt tight, held, or disconnected begin to open and communicate more freely. Breath deepens naturally. Sometimes you hear sighs as the body releases what it has been quietly holding onto.

One of my favourite moments is when we have extra time in class and I ask if there’s a part of the body people would like to focus on.

Long-term students know.

They’ve developed a relationship with their body where they can feel what needs support.

That awareness is powerful.

In my own classes, qigong is woven together with aspects of Chinese Medicine philosophy, seasonal wisdom, meditation, and reflections from the Tao Te Ching. We explore not only the physical body, but also the emotional and spiritual aspects connected to the organ systems — such as the Shen, Hun, and Po.

But ultimately, the practice itself is simple.

We breathe.

We move.

We listen.

And perhaps most importantly, we stop relating to ourselves from a place of lack.

So much of modern exercise is built upon the idea that we are not enough:

not fit enough,

not flexible enough,

not strong enough,

not productive enough.

Qigong feels very different to that.

It comes from the perspective of supporting the body rather than fighting against it.

Over time, strength, flexibility, stability, balance, and resilience often emerge naturally — but not through force.

They arise through connection.

And I think this is why qigong feels so relevant right now.

In a world that constantly pulls us outward, qigong gently guides us back inward.

Back to the body.

Back to breath.

Back to presence.

Back to relationship with ourselves.

You don’t leave feeling like you failed or weren’t enough.

You leave feeling more connected to yourself, to your body, and perhaps even to life itself.