The nerve you’ve never heard of is running your stress response, your digestion, your mood, and your capacity to heal. Here’s what it is and how to work with it intentionally.

I’ve mentioned the vagus nerve twice in recent posts without fully unpacking it, and I’ve gotten enough “wait, what’s that?” to know it’s time to talk about it a little more.

So. Let’s talk about it!

Here’s the short version: You have a nerve running from your brainstem all the way down through your heart, lungs, and gut (it’s the longest nerve in your autonomic nervous system) and it is, quite literally, a direct line between your body and your brain’s sense of safety.

Learn to work with it, and you may just have yourself a biological lever for anxiety, blood pressure, digestion, immune function, emotional regulation, and more.

I know that sounds like a lot. Bear with me.

First, a Story You Already Know

Some of you have probably heard me use eating a lemon as an example of how your mind and body has the ability to interact.

So, imagine going into your kitchen and cutting a lemon…the waxy skin giving under the knife, the little mist of citrus oil from the peel, the sharp smell…and then imagine putting a piece in your mouth and sucking on it.

Your mouth waters.

But there was No. Actual. Lemon.

It all happened in your imagination. Just a vivid internal experience. And your body responded as if the lemon were real.

Try it and see how it works yourself. (Go ahead, I’ll wait.)

When you look at it in this light, your nervous system likely doesn’t make a clean distinction between what’s actually happening and what you’re vividly imagining.

That gap…between the “real” external world and your body’s internal experience of it…is where so much of healing lives.

And the vagus nerve is a major reason why.

What the Vagus Nerve Is and Why It Matters

So, vagus is Latin for “wandering.”

The nerve earned the name. It originates in your brainstem, wanders down both sides of your neck, threads through your chest past your heart and lungs, and reaches all the way into your abdomen. It touches your gut, your liver, your kidneys, your spleen.

It’s the primary channel of the parasympathetic nervous system, the branch that governs rest, repair, digestion, and connection.

It’s also a two-way street.

About 80% of vagal nerve fibers are afferent, which is just a fancy way of saying that they carry information up from body to brain, not down.

Your gut is talking to your brain almost constantly. So is your heart. So is your diaphragm. That’s why “gut feelings” aren’t just metaphors. They’re also rooted in physiology.

When your vagus nerve is functioning well (when you have what practitioners call good vagal tone) your body can shift fluidly between activation and calm.

You can get fired up for something and come back down. You can handle stress without getting stuck in it.

Your heart rate variability (the natural variation in time between heartbeats, which is a reliable marker of nervous system health) is higher.

Your immune system, digestion, and mood all benefit. You are, in the most literal sense, more resilient.

When vagal tone is poor (often from chronic stress, trauma, prolonged illness, or a nervous system that’s been running hot for years) you can get stuck.

That means anxiety that won’t quit. Digestion that’s a mess. Inflammation that won’t resolve. A hair-trigger stress response. The sense of being perpetually not-okay.

Sound familiar? For a lot of people, that’s just Tuesday.

The Three States (a Polyvagal Primer)

Polyvagal theory, developed by Dr. Stephen Porges in the 1990s, can be a useful map for understanding how the nervous system navigates between safety and threat.

I’ll give you the practical version. I’m oversimplifying, but the theory describes three primary states:

Safe and Social (Parasympathetic/Ventral Vagal)
This is regulated territory. You feel calm, connected, present. You can think clearly, relate to people, take in information. Your face is expressive, your voice has warmth and range.

This is where healing actually happens…where digestion, immunity, and repair get the green light.

Fight or Flight (Sympathetic)
You’re activated. Heart rate up, muscles primed, attention narrowed.

This state isn’t bad per se. It exists to protect you. The problem is when you’re living in it chronically. When your body treats the morning news, your inbox, and a difficult conversation as equivalent to a physical threat.

Freeze/Shutdown (Dorsal Vagal)
When overwhelm becomes too much, the nervous system doesn’t keep escalating. It collapses.

This can look like dissociation, numbness, profound fatigue, the inability to feel anything, etc.

It’s the system’s last-ditch protection. A lot of people who’ve been through trauma or prolonged illness know this state well.

The goal isn’t to eliminate fight-or-flight or freeze. Like I said, those states exist for good reason.

The goal is flexibility. I’m talking about the capacity to move between states and return to regulation. A well-toned vagus nerve is what makes that possible.

(A quick note: polyvagal theory is widely applied in clinical and therapeutic practice, and I find it genuinely useful as a map. Folks are still actively debating some of its specific neuroanatomical claims. I’ll say what I always say: Take what helps you navigate. Leave the rest. And always do your own research.)

Why I Take This Personally

I’ve shared bits and pieces of my health story on my blog before.

In January, I came very close to croaking from severe anemia. Hemoglobin of 4. Four blood transfusions. The whole thing.

I surrendered to Western medicine in the way you surrender when your body has made the decision for you, and I’m genuinely grateful it was there. (Can’t believe I’d ever say that.)

What I noticed in the months of recovery afterward…as I slowly came back into my body, as I started working seriously with breathwork and plant medicine…was how much my nervous system had been running in a depleted, dysregulated state.

Probably for a long time. Like, years.

The anemia was the emergency. But the nervous system dysregulation is a much longer story.

My blood pressure started to come down. I find that most days, I can lower it 20-30 points systolic (the top number in a reading) in just about under a minute with focused breathing.

I know this because I’ve tested it. Cuff on, breathe, check. Not once. Repeatedly.

Mind you, I’m not a doctor and I’m not sharing this as a medical recommendation. Your experience might be different. I’m sharing it as my personal data.

Because when your body gives you that kind of feedback that clearly and that fast, you tend to pay attention.

The vagus nerve is a significant part of why that’s happening.

Long exhales specifically activate the parasympathetic branch. They send a signal to the nervous system that you’re safe, that you can slow down, that the threat (real or perceived) has passed.

Your body is listening to every breath you take. Most of us have just never been taught to notice it…or speak back.

How to Actually Work With Your Vagus Nerve

Let’s get practical. Because the vagus nerve’s great gift is that it’s pretty accessible.

You don’t need a device, a prescription, or a special room. You just need to know where the levers are.

Breathwork (specifically the exhale)

This is the most direct, most studied, most immediately effective vagal tool we have.

The research is clear. Slow, diaphragmatic breathing with extended exhales (that are longer than your inhales) activates the parasympathetic nervous system and measurably increases heart rate variability.

The mechanism matters here.

When you inhale, your heart rate naturally speeds up slightly. When you exhale, it slows. A longer exhale = a longer slowdown signal = more vagal activation.

This is why 4-7-8 breathing (in for a count of 4, hold for a count of 7, exhale for a count of 8), box breathing, and coherent breathing (roughly 5-6 breaths per minute) all tend to work.

They’re all extending the exhale relative to the inhale, or building in pauses that lengthen the overall cycle.

Start simple: Inhale for 4 counts, exhale for 8. Do that for one minute and notice what shifts.

Humming, chanting, singing

The vagus nerve innervates the muscles of your larynx and throat.

Vocalization (especially sustained tones and humming) creates vibration that directly stimulates vagal pathways.

This is why singing has such a well-documented effect on mood and nervous system state.

It’s also why the “OM” at the end of a yoga class isn’t just tradition. (And why chanting in ceremony works on your body whether or not you intellectually buy into what the whole ceremony is for.)

Try humming on your exhale during your next breathwork session. Notice the quality of the vibration in your chest. That’s your vagus nerve getting a workout.

Cold water on your face

I’m not talking cold plunges. That’s a whole situation that deserves its own post (or several).

Brief cold water exposure, especially a splash of cold water on the face, activates something called the dive reflex. It’s a parasympathetic response that slows heart rate.

Lifeguards know about this one. So do free divers. It’s remarkably fast.

I’m not sending you to do ice baths (unless you want to). Splashing cold water on your face when you’re overwhelmed, or ending a shower with a cool rinse, is enough to feel the shift.

Gargling

This one surprises people. I mean, and either you can gargle or you can/t. (I know folks who love it, I know folks who are like NOPE.)

The thing to know here is that vigorous gargling activates the muscles at the back of the throat, which are directly innervated by the vagus nerve.

Some practitioners recommend it as a daily toning practice.

It’s weird, right. It also tends to work. Try adding it to your morning routine and see what you think over a few weeks.

Orienting and presence practices

This is the one people skip because it sounds too simple.

Orienting means slowly and deliberately taking in your physical environment. Looking around the room, noticing what you see, hear, and feel. This sends a “we are safe” signal to the nervous system. It basically interrupts the threat-scanning loop.

This is also why grounding practices tend to work. Why time in nature works. Why certain meditations work.

You’re not transcending the nervous system. You’re working with it, giving it information it can use.

Social connection and co-regulation

One of the most striking elements of polyvagal theory is its emphasis on neuroception. That means your nervous system’s unconscious scanning for safety cues in the environment, including in other people.

We regulate with each other, not just alone.

A warm voice, a calm presence, eye contact with someone who isn’t a threat…these things can actually shift your nervous system state.

This is part of why ceremony often works. Why group healing holds something that solo practice sometimes doesn’t. Why it matters who you spend your time with.

A Note on Spiritual Practice and the Vagus Nerve

I’m not going to pretend these are separate conversations.

In my world, ceremonial cacao shifts the nervous system.

Breathwork in ceremony creates physiological and energetic states that are genuinely different from what you’d get doing the same breath pattern alone.

Shamanic journeying (eyes closed, following a drumbeat, descending inward) may generate real physiological responses even though you’re sitting still.

My Spirit Walking practice works in part because the body doesn’t cleanly distinguish between a vivid internal experience and an external one.

The vagus nerve is the biology underneath a lot of what mystics have known for centuries. That slow breath before prayer is doing something measurable. That chant is vibrating a nerve. That stillness isn’t passive…it’s active signaling.

Don’t get me wrong…I’m not reducing the spiritual to the biological. I’m just suggesting they’re pointing at the same thing from different angles.

This is Great, But Where Do I Start?

If you’re new to working with your nervous system consciously, start with your breath. One minute of 4-count inhale, 8-count exhale, once a day. Do it for two weeks and pay attention to what you notice. Not just in the moment, but throughout the day.

Then add one more thing. Humming. Gargling. Cold water. A grounding practice. Orienting when you’re spiraling. Whatever feels right to you.

Build your toolkit slowly. Your nervous system adapts to regular practice the way a muscle adapts to training. You’re building capacity over time, not just putting out fires in the moment.

The goal is what researchers call autonomic flexibility: The ability to move between states of activation and calm with less effort and more awareness.

To feel the fight-or-flight response arise and not get swallowed by it. To visit the freeze without being buried there. To return to safety more easily, more often, more completely.

That’s resilience. Not toughness. Not suppression. The capacity to move.

Your body already knows how to do this. You’re just learning how to participate.

Want to go deeper? Spirit Walking sessions and ceremonial cacao work are two of the most direct ways I know to work with nervous system regulation at the intersection of the somatic and the spiritual.

Disclaimer
The information in this post is for educational and informational purposes only and does not constitute medical advice, diagnosis, or treatment. What I share here reflects my own personal experience, research, and practice — it is not a substitute for the guidance of a qualified healthcare provider. If you have a medical condition, are managing a health concern, or are considering changes to your care, please consult your physician or licensed healthcare professional before making any decisions. Your health is your own — honor it accordingly.