The Lungs and Grief: What Our Breath Can’t Always Say

I’ve never struggled with my lungs. My breath has always been there when I’ve needed it. But I’ve watched someone close to me—my mother—live a very different experience.

She lost both of her parents at a young age. No support system, no fallback. Just grief and survival. And for most of her adult life, her lungs have carried that weight.

She’s had pneumonia several times. She’s constantly fighting off infections. She’s on oxygen, uses a nebuliser daily, and lives with limited capacity to breathe deeply or freely.

The connection between grief and the lungs isn’t just poetic—it’s something I’ve seen play out in real life, in real bodies.

What Traditional Chinese Medicine Teaches

In Traditional Chinese Medicine (TCM), each organ is linked to an emotion. The lungs are connected to grief and sadness—the kind that’s quiet, long-held, and difficult to express.

They believed that unprocessed grief can literally weaken the lungs, just as grief often takes our breath away. People who experience great loss and don’t have a way to express it—through crying, talking, or breath—often develop symptoms of tightness, shallow breathing, or a constant weight on the chest.

In my mother’s case, her grief never had space to move. Life didn’t allow it. She had to carry on. And over the years, her lungs have carried the pressure of everything left unsaid.

What Modern Medicine Is Discovering

We now understand the lungs aren’t just about breathing—they’re part of a complex emotional and nervous system network.

Here’s how it connects:

• Grief triggers shallow breathing. When we’re sad or overwhelmed, the breath naturally tightens. We breathe from the chest, not the belly. Over time, this limits oxygen, stiffens the diaphragm, and changes our posture.

• Chronic stress affects immunity. The lungs are vulnerable to infections when the immune system is low—and long-term emotional stress weakens immunity.

• The lungs are part of the gut-lung-brain axis. Inflammation, poor sleep, poor digestion, and mood—all these influence lung health, and vice versa.

There’s also growing research into how ACE2 receptors (which viruses like COVID target) are linked to emotional and neurological health. It’s all connected. Grief isn’t just a feeling—it changes how the body functions.

How Sound Can Support the Lungs and Let Grief Move

Sound is breath made visible. And in my work with gongs, bowls, and voice, I’ve seen how sound helps people soften into their own breath—and their own grief.

Here’s how sound supports the lungs and emotional release:

1. Breath and Vibration Work Together

When you tone, sigh, hum, or chant, you're lengthening the breath. This stimulates the vagus nerve, expands the diaphragm, and massages the lungs from the inside. Over time, this helps people move from tight, upper-chest breathing to slower, fuller breaths.

Even a single long exhale can begin to tell the body: “It’s safe to let go.”

2. Vibrations Travel Through the Chest

Low-frequency instruments like gongs, bowls, and drums produce vibrations that pass through the chest wall, resonating in the ribcage and lungs. This can help loosen tension in the fascia, relax intercostal muscles, and improve breath flow.

I've watched people breathe more deeply after a session—not because I told them to, but because their body finally felt able to.

3. Sound Creates Space for Unspoken Emotion

Grief isn’t always loud. It’s often quiet, buried under decades of “I’m fine.” Sound provides a non-verbal outlet. It bypasses the thinking mind and touches the body directly. Tears often come—not forced, just free.

I’ve seen it in sessions: someone lying still, sound washing over them, and suddenly a single tear rolls down. No words. Just release.

Grief Isn’t Meant to Be Carried Alone

Watching my mum’s journey has shown me how deep, unexpressed grief can sit in the body—not just emotionally but physically. Her lungs have held a lifetime of heartbreak.

She’s taught me that grief isn’t something we "get over." It’s something we learn to breathe through—if we’re lucky enough to have tools that help.

Let’s Leave You with This

Grief isn’t always loud. It can settle in the lungs, tighten the breath, and go unseen for years.

Sound doesn’t fix grief—but it gives it movement.It gives the breath a reason to return.It helps the body remember how to soften, sigh, and let go.

So next time your chest feels heavy, or your breath is short, pause and ask:Is this just a breath… or is it grief asking to be felt?

Sometimes, a sigh, a sound, or a single long exhale is enough to begin.