#easemyanxiety

[golittlebiggirl]

Week 3 of Lockdown #3 and I’ve started talking to the ground…

This morning I sat under a bough, planted my booted feet on the muddy ground and breathed. A big, long, full breath. I said, out loud: “Thank you, Ground, do you mind if I just leave some of my shit here with you?”

Yesterday I’d been nursing the post-op dog, pacifying the pre-home-school child and, alas, probably side-lining the long-suffering husband. Oh, and digesting the latest Covid lockdown news and managing about 100 simultaneous dialogues going on inside my weary head.

I’m not usually one for unleashing cusses and dumping emotional baggage in public (although admittedly during the first lockdown I did once scream at the dog to fuck OFF after the 4th time I’d offered her the open door to come in through and she just sat in front of it staring at me – I like to think of this as a ‘Camel’s Back’ outburst).

But I do find that the practice of “grounding” meditation, which I landed upon while recovering from illness several years back, is extremely therapeutic.

Today’s little chat with the actual ground was new territory though.

Sparing you a meditation lesson, the grounding I learned involves focusing on your breath to centre yourself and to feel the physical connection you have to the earth. No matter where your head has taken you, in my case myriad directions, grounding brings you back into feeling and being exactly where you stand, rooted in the right here and right now.

I have found it helps me if I am feeling overwhelmed or anxious. As I heard one meditation guru put it, it won’t help you avoid your feelings, but helps you “weather the storm by being tethered to something strong.”

So this morning, as I asked the ground for its permission to dump my baggage on it, I was relieved that it put forward no objection. With a few uninhibitedly loud out-breaths (for I was on the edge of a woodland at dawn so only the birds and badgers could hear me), I expelled everything I no longer wanted to think about or figure out and just let the ground absorb it all.

Did it heal the post-op dog any faster? No. Did it stop the child complaining about home school? What do you think? Was my husband suddenly the sole focus of my attention when I got back? Maybe momentarily.

But was I still managing 100 dialogues in my weary brain? Absolutely not. Ten, tops!

So my promise to myself in this most earnest and sometimes disappointing of months, is that the ground and me will enjoy more of these exchanges – although that’s not the right word as I’m not sure what my part of the bargain is but perhaps that will dawn on me; that I will head out alone again, maybe before sunrise, bough-bound and hopeful of coming back carrying less than I took. Check out Linda Hall Meditation on YouTube for some lovely, simply, non-religious, grounding meditations.