I’ve always had a complicated relationship with grounding. I wasn’t really into it. I liked the feeling of running on excitement and high charge.
When I was little and there was a big event-my birthday or a holiday-I would work myself into such a frenzy that I would vomit or get sick. My mom reminded me recently that I was diagnosed as “failure to thrive” when I was a little girl because all I would eat was apple juice and cucumbers. She said I always kind of seemed half in/half out, like I hadn’t really committed to being on Earth.
I was a little skinny bookworm that spent most of her time in a fantasy world. My need for escape started early with books and then progressed to drugs and alcohol as soon as I discovered how they could buffer my sensitivity to the world around me. I craved ecstatic experiences that helped me feel outside of myself and outside of my mind because it was such an uncomfortable place to be. I had constant anxiety, insecurity and a very overactive brain that kept all of my energy up in my mind for a big part of my life.
And yet, I didn’t really get what was supposed to be so great about being grounded. It felt overrated and kind of boring. As part of my Breathwork teacher training, I was given a word to focus on, write about and integrate. My word (of course!) was Grounding.
As I started feeling into my relationship with grounding, I began noticing how little my feet were actually on the ground as I moved through my day. I walk on the outsides of my feet and even when I’m sitting, I usually have my feet on the rung of a stool or up on a coffee table or tucked under me on the couch.
As I dug in more, I realized that one of the reasons that I didn’t like being all the way in my body is that I already feel things so intensely, that it felt like it would be completely overwhelming if I were to feel anything more.Read More