Touching Ground: A Wild Woman's Tale
Copyright(c), Loba, all rights reserved. Originally published on EarthenSpirituality.
There's a reason they call it "grounding." It's right there, in the soil we walk on, the dirt, the ground. It's something we do with our physical and energetic bodies, not with our minds. It's founded in the visceral experience of our connection to the sacred ground at our feet, beneath our floors, under our bouncy bottoms! It's deeply realizing that no matter where we go, we are attached through an energetic and emotional umbilical to the Mother Earth. When we're truly grounded, the feeling of certainty and faith in our truths comes from knowing we're a part of an all-knowing whole, and trusting that our instincts and intuition reflect the voice of Gaia and the will of Spirit.
People often say "ground yourself," when what they really mean is "calm down." But while a grounded person is calm in their purpose and center, they can be as fiery and active as a volcano. We're grounded anytime we're fully being our authentic selves, in touch with sacred purpose through feelings rather than thoughts. This is usually easier for us women than for men, partly because by embodying and valuing our emotions we keep an "empathic channel" open.
The most grounding activities involve a hushing of the mind, and a heightening of sensation. Going for walks in nature. Gardening. Gathering and preparing wild foods. Exchanging back rubs. Soaking in hot tubs. Feeling the wind and sun on your skin, and listening to the sound of quaking aspen leaves or a gurgling river. We can trust our work, trust that we'll do the right thing no matter how hard or how many distractions, when we've just returned from a outdoor vacation. We're a little clearer headed for decisions whenever we've first grounded by stepping out under a pine in front of the school or office.
I've spent the last ten years falling ever more deeply in love with my canyon home, and with a self I never knew existed! From beneath the masks I once wore was revealed a woman, as needy and vulnerable as giving and strong. A nurturing woman, feminine woman, a woman who loves her body and all its "imperfections." A woman who knows her home inside and out, running barefoot through river bottoms full of stickers and sharp rocks, knows where the plants grow, and which she can eat and which she can make tea with. A woman who knows her way, and has led other women barefoot up steep hills in the dark with no moon, no flashlights, bending close to the ground to feel which way the trail goes.... is it over there? (No, feel the ground with your toes, it's here!) Yes, a grounded woman, rooted to canyon soil, fed by its river, singing where I am heard by no judgmental ears. Singing to only my sister elk and graceful heron, bats and bobcats, mountain lion and coatamundi. To the raccoons and ringtail cats, skunks and swallows, hummingbirds and scorpions, rattlesnakes and bumblebees. I sing to you my song of grounded celebration, my voice echoing off the canyon walls, the canyon singing back to me.
I spent most of my life as distracted and deluded as anybody. If I can "come down to earth," so can anyone. The connection that feeds me can feed you in a neighborhood backyard, or through a special rock you pick up off your altar. It isn't something you "get," because you already have it. You just need to feel it, pay attention to it, and then act out of that sacred center. We can find it in even the busiest moments, a refuge of quiet vision and knowingness from which we can reach out, touching others most intensely and meaningfully, cuddling with the power and promises of the Earth, creating art and community, standing up to threats and defending what deserves defending. Grounded in being, in presence and place-- we're sacred, flawless, and never alone.
Hallelujah, we're home!!