Grounding Practices: Rooting into True Reality
Picture taken of Christina in Anza-Borrego Desert
Can you see it—an old man crouching down on a dusty Persian road. His lips, first with the curve of a smile, pucker together and press against raw earth in an act of love, delight, and devotion. “There are hundreds of ways to kneel and kiss the ground,” Sufi poet Rumi writes, drawing us into his world. His words remind us, playfully and tactilely, that the sacred is everywhere.
Similarly, Christian philosopher Paul Tillich says God is the ground of Being—the very ground we stand on, and soil in which we grow. If God brings all of creation into being, and is revealed through creation, then there are infinite ways to kiss and be kissed by Divinity.
The Need for Grounding:
But we lose touch with the sacred in our physical reality, including our own physical bodies, when we over-emphasize using our minds. There’s a reason we have the phrase “her head is lost in the clouds.” Notice how when you are thinking, problem solving, and daydreaming, you get pulled up, out, and away from your body. But when you focus on being in your body and environment, notice how you start to settle in and down. You are calm and rooted.
Being embodied in the natural world allows you to stay firmly planted in yourself, and in turn, God. Yet living embodied doesn’t come naturally to many of us, and current or past trauma can make it especially difficult. One way to resolve this dichotomy is through the practice of grounding. When done in a safe environment, grounding cultivates a sense of safety in your body and surroundings. It allows for a closer connection to Divinity, being made known to you in the present moment.
Getting Started:
Here are ten simple grounding practices that can help you physically be in your body and the natural world around you (some you may realize you are already doing).
All of these practices are somatic and sensory, they are not mental exercises. You could surely extract deeper meanings, but try not to! Only developing awareness—observing without critically thinking—teaches your mind to let go, allowing you to trust the ground both in and beneath you with greater confidence.
Grounding Practices:
Walk barefoot on the grass: feel the blades cushion and crinkle against the bottoms of your feet.
Dig your toes into the sand: feel the sand transition from dry and loose to compact and damp.
Touch a tree, firmly rooted: feel its strong, immovable trunk, observe its roots pushing into the earth, and admire the free movement of its leaves.
Drink a big glass of water: feel the liquid pool inside you, as you go from empty to full.
Hold a stone while meditating: feel its weight and texture, the temperature changing from cool to warm as it presses against the blood circulating under your skin.
Eat root vegetables like potatoes, carrots, and beets: feel them settle at the base of your belly, noticing the sensation of being well nourished.
Practice yoga: feel each body part making contact with the hard floor, noting how it feels to be supported; stand firmly, pushing up through your feet to make yourself taller; let your bones sink down into your mat during the final resting pose.
Sit quietly for five minutes: feel what is taking place in your body during this brief period of time—tight muscles, places you are holding tension, quality of your breathing, or perhaps tingling—and let yourself relax.
Name objects and colors in your environment: explore your field of vision and state exactly what you see: chair, tree, cat, flowers; search for a specific color: red book, red street sign, red leaves.
Going Forward:
Grounding into your physical reality and body is a way of grounding into God’s presence, which is in you and all around you. Let your grounding practices draw you into a greater awareness of how you experience God.
In his poem Spring Giddiness, Rumi begins with kissing the ground, but his final image is floating dust. His metaphor lifts our gaze from the ground beneath us to the space we are inhabiting. Even the air is saturated with Divine presence, like dust hanging in slants of light, minuscule specks we rarely acknowledge but are always breathing.
Going forward, hear Rumi’s giddy excitement as an invitation to join him in awareness. Plant your feet firmly on the ground, and then softly inhale. Let sweet oxygen inflate your lungs. Feel God’s presence both beneath you and in you. Notice if you can taste what you have been tasting all along—fresh and sacred life, God’s very Spirit, carried in your breath.