Tension headache

Many people recognise the shape of this headache without needing it named: a dull band of pressure that settles across the forehead, squeezes the temples, or gathers at the base of the skull, usually towards the end of a long day. Rather than throbbing, it tends to feel like tightening — a strap drawn evenly around the head. Long stretches of reading, screens, driving, or concentrated work seem to invite it, and it commonly keeps company with tense shoulders and a stiff, heavy neck.

The everyday triggers repeat themselves in ordinary conversation: deadlines that run long, nights when sleep arrives late, meals skipped or eaten at the desk, squinting at a bright display, a jaw quietly clenched since morning. Listing these is not diagnosing anything — headache has many faces, and sorting one kind from another belongs to a clinician. The picture simply explains why so many cultures developed small rituals for the head and neck: wherever people bend over their work, someone has tried to ease the load by hand.

One framing note before anything else. Descriptions like these speak of patterns, not of people, and nothing on this page tells you which kind of headache you have. Treat the whole piece as background for a conversation — with yourself about your own habits, or, better, with a professional if the pattern worries you.

Classical East Asian medicine grouped many head complaints under the image of wind — a wandering, restless influence said to rise and gather where the head sits exposed at the top of the body. However the old writers pictured the mechanism, their practical response followed a habit the tradition is known for: reach both near and far. Points close to where the discomfort sat were combined with points far away along the mapped channels, on the thinking that the whole line, not just the painful spot, deserved attention.

For band-like head tension, four names recur across traditional teaching. Hegu (LI4) sits on the back of the hand; fengchi (GB20) nests in the hollows at the base of the skull; baihui (GV20) crowns the top of the head; taiyang (EX-HN5) rests at the temple. In the vocabulary this site prefers: each was traditionally used for headache and related discomfort — a report of what historical practice reached for, not a claim about proven results.

The set balances local and distant in a way tradition found satisfying. Fengchi and taiyang lie right where a band of pressure tends to sit; baihui anchors the crown; hegu works from the far end of the large intestine channel, whose pathway old charts traced up across the face. Reading the combination is a small lesson in how the classical system thought: the head was never treated as an island.

Hegu (LI4) — the name reads “joining valley” — occupies the fleshy mound between thumb and index finger. Close the thumb against the side of the finger and the mound rises; the point rests at its crest, on the back of the hand about halfway along the second metacarpal bone, matching the standard description “on the dorsum of the hand, radial to the midpoint of the second metacarpal bone”. Tradition ranked it the source point of its channel and reached for it around head and facial complaints. One caution travels with it everywhere: it is traditionally avoided during pregnancy.

Fengchi (GB20) — “wind pool” — lives in the two hollows where the skull meets the neck, just outside the thick strap muscles that run down beside the spine. Tilt the head slightly forward, slide the thumbs up the back of the neck, and let them sink into the soft depressions either side of the midline. Classical practice kept this point busy whenever the head, neck, or eyes felt strained; even the name pictures a pool where wind was thought to collect.

Baihui (GV20) — “hundred meetings” — marks the very top of the head, where a line drawn between the tops of the ears crosses the midline. It belongs to the du vessel, the channel classical charts ran up the spine and over the crown, and tradition gave it a lifting, settling character: a point associated with clearing the mind and gathering scattered attention.

Taiyang (EX-HN5) — the name reads “great sun” — sits in the soft hollow of the temple, about one finger-width behind the midpoint between the outer end of the eyebrow and the outer corner of the eye. It is an extra point, standing outside the twelve regular channels, yet few places are easier to find or more traditional for a tired head and strained eyes.

Choose a quiet moment and a supported seat. Let the shoulders drop, unclench the jaw, and take a few slower breaths before touching anything — the ritual works best as a pause, not a repair job. Warm hands help; cold fingertips make everything feel sharper than it is.

Work in an unhurried order. Begin away from the head: settle the pad of a thumb or finger on hegu (LI4) — unless you are pregnant, in which case leave this point out entirely — press only as firmly as feels pleasant, hold half a minute to a minute while the breath stays slow, then release gradually. Move next to fengchi (GB20): thumbs into the hollows, pressure steady and inward-upward rather than digging, always short of sharpness. Then taiyang (EX-HN5), with the lightest circles or simply a resting fingertip, and finish with a soft pause at baihui (GV20) if it appeals. Once or twice a day is plenty.

The stop rules matter more than the sequence. Stop at once on sharp, electric, or radiating sensation; skip any patch of broken, inflamed, or numbed skin; keep everything near the eyes feather-light. If pressing leaves the head feeling worse rather than easier, stop and let it be. Pregnancy, a live health condition, or medication that affects bleeding are all reasons to ask a qualified practitioner before adding self-pressure routines at all.

Traditional teaching never left the points to carry the whole weight. Daily rhythm — sleep, food, movement, season, the state of the emotions — belonged to the same picture of health, and a point pressed into a life running hot was understood to be doing part-time work. Old advice for the head therefore looks past the acupoints: regular hours, gentler evenings, eyes given distance from their tasks.

Modern life writes the same list in its own hand. Screen breaks that actually move the body, water on the desk, meals at roughly regular times, a walk at lunch, lights turned down before bed — none of it dramatic, all of it friction removed from the day. For tension-type headache itself, reviews suggest needling can cut how often the headaches come, but those trials used needles rather than hand pressure. Habits earn their keep honestly; promises are another currency.

There is a quieter benefit worth naming. A few unhurried minutes with fingertips resting at the temples and breath slowed down is a pause in a loud day, and pauses have value even before any question of points arises. People who keep a small ritual like this often find the ritual matters as much as the map — which is, in its way, the most traditional verdict of all.

Some headaches announce something that needs assessment promptly, and self-care of any kind waits until that has happened. Seek medical attention without delay for a sudden, severe headache unlike anything before; a headache after a blow to the head; headache together with fever and a stiff neck; new weakness, numbness, slurred speech, confusion, or disturbed vision; a headache that wakes you from sleep or keeps changing its pattern; or a new headache during pregnancy. Urgency is information — let a professional read it.

Between emergencies and everyday tension lies the wider territory of headaches that come often — several days most weeks, or a pattern steadily deepening — and these belong with a licensed practitioner too, for proper assessment and a plan. Registered acupuncturists and traditional medicine clinicians can join that conversation alongside conventional care rather than instead of it. Persistent symptoms belong with a licensed practitioner — Western medicine or East Asian medicine, whichever suits the complaint.

This page can honestly serve a particular reader: a healthy adult curious about traditional self-care for ordinary, band-like head tension; someone who wants a calm ritual and a clear map of four well-documented points; a browser of heritage ideas who prefers them without hype. For that reader, the material offers orientation, technique boundaries, and a realistic sense of what the tradition claimed.

It cannot diagnose, cannot treat whatever underlies a symptom, and cannot promise relief to anyone. During pregnancy it needs editing before use — hegu (LI4) comes off the list, and the rest belong behind a conversation with a qualified practitioner. Deeper detail on each point, with precise locations and recorded cautions, lives on the catalogue pages for LI4, GB20, GV20, and EX-HN5, and they are the better reference once a point has earned your interest.

How often can I press these four points?

For most healthy adults, a short session once or twice a day is a sensible rhythm: half a minute to a minute per point, pressure kept comfortable, releases gradual. More frequent or firmer work is not somehow better — soreness is a signal to ease off, not to push through.

Is hegu (LI4) safe during pregnancy?

Tradition records hegu among the points to avoid during pregnancy, and this site follows that caution: leave it out entirely while pregnant. The other three points carry no such traditional bar, but pregnancy is still a reason to talk with a qualified practitioner before starting any self-pressure routine.

Do I need to use all four points in one sitting?

No. Traditional teaching paired and regrouped these points freely according to where the discomfort sat. One or two well-found points held patiently make a complete session; the full circuit of four is there when you want a longer pause, not because completeness adds power.

Why does a hand point appear in a headache routine?

Because the classical system connected them. Charts of the large intestine channel trace a path from the hand up the arm and across the face, and hegu (LI4) stands at that channel’s source. Working a distant point for a complaint far along the same line is one of the tradition’s signature moves — whether or not one accepts the old geography.

Can acupressure replace my usual headache medicine?

No. Self-applied pressure is a comfort practice, and this page makes no efficacy claims for it. Never swap prescribed treatment for self-care, and never adjust prescribed medication on your own; if you want traditional practice involved in headache management, raise it openly with your prescribing clinician so both sit on the same team.

What do the four names actually mean?

Hegu joins “joining” to “valley”, after the hollowed ground between thumb and finger. Fengchi pairs “wind” with “pool”, the hollow where old theory imagined wind settling. Baihui sets “hundred” over “meetings”, the crown where lines were said to converge. Taiyang reads as “great sun”, a fitting name for the open, light-facing temple.

1. 01WHO Standard Acupuncture Point Locations in the Western Pacific Region (2008) — landmark descriptions followed for hegu (LI4), fengchi (GB20), baihui (GV20), and taiyang (EX-HN5).
2. 02A Manual of Acupuncture (Deadman, Al-Khafaji & Baker) — point categories, name glosses, and general head-complaint framing consulted for context.
3. 03aijiu-mpvue (MIT License), licensed dataset — recorded indications and cautions underlying the four point identities.