To be grounded

I remember when I was in my thirties and a boyfriend told me I was not grounded. It was more a projection than a truth, however the question made me consider what it is to be grounded.

To have your feet on the Earth, barefoot, is a metaphor. Tethered to Earth. Not too much air. Not too little either, for air is useful to life.

The solidity of the ground is present. It comes with reliability. Consistency. Again, not too much of either because life happens at the edges of emergence, and emergence needs change. 

Too much groundness and nothing changes. 

The tree is a perfect metaphor. Rooted. Able to dance with the wind. The leaves reaching for light and air. The roots stabilising in darkness. If the root system is shallow, the wind can topple the tree. 

My grounding practices.

I spend most of my days barefoot. I like the feel of Earth, even pavement, beneath my feet. I spend most of my mornings in nature. Embraced completely. It helps that I live in a warm climate and a beachside culture where going barefoot is normal.

I have a morning and evening routine that bookends my day, providing stability in chaos. This enables the rest of my day to be always different. 

I place myself into circumstances that challenge me physically and mentally. 

I write my thoughts out, every day. 

I surround myself with people who care for me enough not to hold back if my actions and behaviours are incoherent with my being.

I keep an open heart and mind.

I get good sleep, enough sleep, and wake without an alarm. I eat nourishing food, move my body and get regular health check-ups. 

I do all of these things because I want to feel great and be able to act as needed, unencumbered by physical, mental or psychological barriers. 

When we care about actively creating a better future, our way of being in our bodies, in our mind and in our world matters as much as the work we do.

We model the future we desire.

Photo June 9th 2025, Article written June 9th 2025