A note before we begin: This is a personal exploration, not an academic comparison. I write as a modern witch influenced by the Chinese and Taoist-informed practices I grew up alongside. If you practice TCM or Eastern spirituality deeply, I welcome your perspective – this is just one person’s map of the crossroads.
I grew up in south-west Sydney, surrounded by families who brought their traditions with them. It wasn’t unusual to see a neighbour burning incense, another wearing red thread for protection, or someone’s mum sending them to school with herbal soup in a thermos. I didn’t think much of it back then, but those quiet, everyday rituals stuck with me.
The other day, I was sipping a chrysanthemum tea, and it made me pause. I’d brewed it to settle my energy and calm my mind, but the way I stirred it slowly, the warmth in my hands, the way I whispered a little intention into the cup without even thinking about it – it felt just like spellwork. That moment sent me down a bit of a rabbit hole, thinking about how Traditional Chinese Medicine (TCM), Eastern philosophies, and spiritual practices have quietly influenced my path as a modern witch.
This post is a personal reflection. I’m not a practitioner of TCM or an expert on Eastern spiritualism, but I’ve been shaped by proximity. This is about noticing the overlaps, the echoes, and the ways magic shows up across cultures – especially when you’re raised in a place where all those cultures live side by side. Let’s explore the quiet ways these traditions intertwine, and maybe recognise how much of it we already carry.
The Foundations of Energy Work
Qi and Life Force
In both modern witchcraft and Eastern systems like TCM and Taoist philosophy, energy is at the heart of everything. TCM refers to it as Qi (pronounced “chee”), the vital life force that flows through the body, animating us, nourishing us, and keeping us in balance. In witchcraft, we speak of energy in terms of intention, vibration, and frequency. When we raise energy in a spell or cleanse our space, we are working with something remarkably similar to Qi.
When I cast circle, I visualise energy swirling around me, rising from the earth and connecting to the sky. It’s not that different from the way TCM speaks of energy flowing through the meridians. The goal in both is harmony. Balance. Flow. Whether it’s through acupuncture needles or spell candles, we’re working with the same idea: restore the current.
My introduction to energy work actually came through the concept of Qi itself. As a teenager, I was exploring the I Ching and it was through that ancient text that I first encountered the idea of a vital life force that moved through all things. It wasn’t presented as something abstract, but something living and responsive. That early exposure stayed with me, and later became the foundation for how I understood energy in witchcraft.
Yin, Yang, and Elemental Balance
The Taoist concept of Yin and Yang reflects the constant balancing act of opposing forces. Darkness and light, stillness and action, moon and sun. In my craft, I lean heavily into the lunar cycles, the ebb and flow of my own moods, and the need for both rest and movement in my spiritual life. Recognising when I need to sit in the quiet of Yin or rise into the flame of Yang has become an intuitive dance.
This balance also mirrors the elemental framework in witchcraft. Earth, Air, Fire, Water, and Spirit. Each with their own energy, personality, and rhythm. Much like the Five Elements in TCM: Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal, and Water. They interact, nourish, and restrain each other. It’s an ecosystem of harmony, just like our spellwork seeks to be.
This concept of balance also shows up in the way we explore the divine masculine and feminine within modern witchcraft. Yin is often associated with the receptive, intuitive, and nurturing aspects of the divine feminine, while Yang connects with the expressive, protective, and energising qualities of the divine masculine. Neither is better or more powerful than the other. In fact, the real magic happens when they are in dynamic harmony – not competition. I’ve found that working with both energies consciously has helped me move through shadow work, ritual planning, and everyday life with more fluidity and grace.
Herbs, Healing, and Potions
Herbal Medicine and Magical Correspondences
In south-west Sydney, Chinese herbalists were everywhere, with walls lined with dried roots, berries, barks, and leaves. As a child, I didn’t understand what they were for, only that they were important. Now, as a witch who uses herbs in teas, oils, and spell jars, I look at those apothecaries with a new kind of reverence.
TCM sees herbs as more than just ingredients. Each one has a temperature, an element, a flavour, and a direction. Witchcraft does too, just in slightly different language. Cinnamon for warmth and prosperity. Ginger for energy and activation. Mugwort for dreams and the liminal. Our herbal uses often overlap, even when we’ve arrived through different doors.
Ritual and Remedy
What stands out most is how herbal medicine is ritualised in both systems. Brewing a tea, infusing a tincture, or steaming herbs over a pot all require intention, mindfulness, and presence. These are not rushed processes. They’re acts of devotion. A spell in motion.
I remember once being given a TCM blend to help with excess heat in my body. It came in a crinkled brown paper bag filled with curious-looking plants. I boiled it down into a thick, dark liquid that smelt like the forest floor. Drinking it was both medicinal and magical. It later turned out I had inflammation, but it wasn’t just the herbs that helped my body – it was the ritual itself. The quiet act of brewing a cup of tea, the scent rising with the steam, and the mindfulness that came with every sip. It felt like a potion. And in many ways, it was.
Sacred Movement and Breath
Qi Gong and Energy Raising
Qi Gong is a practice of gentle movement, breathwork, and focused intention designed to cultivate and circulate Qi. It reminds me so much of the energy raising we do before a spell. The way we breathe into our bodies, ground ourselves, and move our hands in sacred patterns.
In witchcraft, we often use our bodies as conduits for spell work. Whether it’s through dance, rhythmic movement, or gesture, our bodies become vessels for raising and directing energy. Learning Qi Gong felt familiar because it mirrored this idea so closely. It wasn’t about the technique, but the intention behind it – the mindful way movement can guide energy through the body, anchor us into the present, and connect us to something greater. It reminded me that magic isn’t always cast with tools or words. Sometimes, it’s cast through breath, stance, and movement.
Breath as Spellwork
In both traditions, breath is sacred. Inhale to draw in energy, exhale to release it. Whether you’re using pranayama in yogic practice, mindful breathing in Qi Gong, or deep breaths to centre before a spell, you’re activating the same current. Our breath is a bridge between the physical and the spiritual.
Sometimes when I’m feeling overwhelmed, I come back to the breath. One hand on my heart, the other on my belly. Inhale. Hold. Exhale. A spell of calming. A charm for nervous systems. No tools needed. Just presence. This kind of breathwork isn’t just important in witchcraft – it also plays a central role in the Western understanding of mindfulness, nervous system restoration, and trauma recovery. Whether it’s taught in therapy rooms, yoga classes, or spiritual circles, the breath is a universal anchor. A return to self.
Intuition, Cycles, and Inner Knowing
The Wisdom of the Body
TCM teaches us to listen to our body’s rhythms. To notice our digestion, our sleep, our skin, our cycles. Everything tells a story. Witchcraft encourages the same. We learn to trust the subtle signals, the pull of the moon, the messages in dreams.
Growing up as a dancer in a heavily multicultural city, acupuncture was just as common as tiger balm – which, let’s be real, is an Eastern remedy in itself. From day one, I understood the importance of trusting the body and tuning in to what it needed, rather than immediately reaching for Panadol or Nurofen to deal with aches and pains. That mindset stuck with me. It wasn’t just about dulling symptoms, but about listening. Understanding the root cause. And that belief in the body’s wisdom naturally found its way into my witchcraft. If I’m struggling to manifest or feel off-kilter, I don’t just light a candle and hope for the best. I stop and check in. What’s stuck? What feels out of balance? Where does the healing need to begin?
Seasonal and Elemental Living
Both witchcraft and TCM invite us to live in harmony with the seasons. To eat warming foods in winter, cooling herbs in summer, and to honour the shift in energy as the wheel of the year turns. In TCM, the Five Elements are associated with seasons, emotions, organs, and senses. In witchcraft, we align our spells, altars, and intentions with the sabbats and moons.
It all comes back to listening. Observing. Moving with, not against, the natural world. When you look at Eastern traditions, there’s a deep cultural emphasis on living seasonally. Foods, rituals, and even rest patterns shift to align with the natural environment. Their calendars – especially lunar ones – reflect a profound respect for moon cycles and energetic transitions. The timing of the Lunar New Year, for example, isn’t arbitrary. It’s astrologically and energetically intentional. In many ways, it mirrors how we as witches attune to sabbats and full moons, working with what’s already moving around and within us.
Final Thoughts
If you’ve ever made a cup of ginger tea when your stomach felt off, or rubbed peppermint oil into your temples to clear your mind, you’ve already felt the magic of these intersections. You’ve already danced with the wisdom that lies at the edge of Eastern healing and Western spellcraft. You don’t need to be trained in TCM or initiated into a magical tradition to recognise the resonance. It’s in your breath. Your rituals. Your care.
This blending of worlds is not about stealing or claiming. It’s about honouring the way knowledge passes through culture, time, and practice. It’s about acknowledging the spaces we’ve lived in and the people we’ve learned from, often without even realising it. It’s about making room for complexity. For multiple truths to exist at once.
So next time you light a candle, steep a tea, or move through your breathwork, pause and notice. Feel into the roots of what you’re doing. Not just the intention, but the lineage. The memory. The subtle knowing. Magic, like healing, isn’t always loud. Sometimes it’s a whisper. Sometimes it’s a warm cup in your hands. Sometimes it’s a practice you didn’t even know was sacred until you looked again.
And in that moment, you’ll find yourself exactly where I did. At the intersection.
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