Grounding and Moving On

My eyes were sore and my brain needed a rest. I thought writing my book was intense, and it was, but getting my book published, to my surprise, is also intense. My publisher, Friesen Press, has an awesome system for getting its authors up to speed by coaxing information out of them in order to produce a professional book. Just because I've spent the last two years in the depths of that book writing, editing, rearranging, slashing, and rewriting, doesn't mean it's ready for the reader. That's what editors do, and I have wonderful editors.

There were a lot of great questions to answer like "Why did you want to write THIS book? What are your book's main themes?" The question that surprised me was "What needs does your book satisfy in the market?" I hadn't thought about my book's market. Doesn't everyone want to connect with their soul, love themselves, and know their self-worth? Well, maybe there are some who don't want that.

As I dove into the publishing process, all sorts of fears surfaced again about whether my book was good enough and whether the subject matter would be as useful and inspiring as I wanted it to be. I expect that's normal for first time authors. There's also the finality of publishing. I've edited and changed so much, agonized over countless synonyms. I've searched my past for just the right metaphors that would illuminate my story. All that will stop in a few short months when the final changes are made, and it's daunting.

Grounding is a practice I've developed over the years whether I was aware of it or not. As I child, I was fond of digging in the dirt pretending I'd discovered ancient bones because I wanted to be an archaeologist when I grew up. That was grounding. I walked bare foot on Saskatchewan's 'gumbo' soil in the Spring when it was just dry enough to walk on without sinking into sticky mud. I was 'earthing' then without knowing it. When I stepped on a nail, I sat on our back deck in the sunshine with my feet in a plastic bucket of Epsom salts. I felt glorious as I focussed on our garden and the huge prairie sky. That was meditating. Today as a rain storm approaches, I'll be walking in nature as I do every morning. Grounding brings me back to earth.

Mavis, the tree, helped me ground one day. As I placed my hands on her bark, she'd always send her healing love to me. On this particular day, as I received healing love, out of my feet came roots growing down into the earth. I had been grounded by Mavis, the tree, in a way she knew would help me become more grounded. Maybe she heard all of my questions and knew how unsettled I felt.

When I have a lot to do and start to feel panicky, relief starts as I close my eyes and purposefully relax my shoulders, arms and back, releasing their tightness. Sinking into my chair allows my legs to relax. I send my consciousness down to the center of the Earth through my feet, then bring Earth's energy up feeling it flow through each chakra. I pause and then move to my heart which sends love to all the parts of my physical body. I finish with 5-10 long slow breaths, in and out, stopping to hold my breath for 5 slow counts before releasing.

Grounding is also a form of meditation, so if I need to get centered, I ground by allowing my mind to go into a no-thought state and focus on anything that's beautiful or soothing like a flower, the sound of the rain, a particularly brilliant tree, the ocean's sounds and smells, or clouds. After that, I close my eyes taking a few minutes to focus on my body. I pay attention to how it feels, and send it much love for carrying my soul around for so many years. If you have trouble getting into that no-thought state, light a candle and burn some sage. Focus on the candle's flame, slow your breathing, enjoy the powerful scent of sage, and just be present.

In fact, using all your senses will help meditation and grounding because the point is to bring ourselves back to the moment, back to the present, and away from all the bustle, thinking, and planning. When I bring myself back to the present, it's easy to just feel the way I feel because the moment accepts what is in that moment. We are essentially allowing ourselves to pause and that kind of pause is key to living and feeling better. I call this kind of pause an Integral Pause.

'Integral' is an adjective that means 'vital, important to the point that its very identity is tied to whatever it’s describing', in this case, a pause. Integral is 'necessary to the completeness of the whole'. An integral pause, as I define it, then, is an intentional pause vital to completing the challenges, changes, and stressors caused by trauma. This pause is an allowing of all our emotions, for however long it takes, that signals the turning point and our way back to wholeness. (From Book #1 - Alice Carlssen Williams)

That excerpt from my first book, yes, the book I'll be publishing hopefully in April 2025, is talking about trauma. In a similar way, one can use this type of pause when facing a deadline, a frantic situation, or a fear. When one intentionally pauses to allow our emotions, it's a great way to return to a calm, centered self. At the same time, we are also practicing grounding and moving on in a healthy, respectful way for ourselves.

Moving on then, my eyes are still sore. I've probably had too much screen time and my brain is still tired. Physically moving away from the screen works well for sore eyes and a tired brain, but it's slower than grounding and meditating. Sometimes I need a power nap to move on.

Yes, it's time to leave this screen and I definitely need a nap.