By Stephanie Linehan
Act as if you’re a writer. Sit down and begin. - Dan Shapiro
To stall a crowd of people accusing a woman and to buy himself some time in responding to them, Jesus bent down and slowly began writing something in the sand, leaving the crowd puzzled and curious ... and quiet. The purposely drawn-out result was, “Let him who is without sin among you be the first to throw a stone at her.” #ground
Growing up, my bedroom was in the basement of a split-level home. My window, at ground level. And we lived on a cul-de-sac. In the winter, as the city snowplow swung around the neighborhood, its lights would shine through my bedroom window. Just enough for me to wake, notice, and think ‘Ahh, they’re out there plowing while I’m safe and warm in my bed.’ No joke. I remember that so vividly. Twenty-some years later I marry a man who snow plows for a living. #ground-level
That same bedroom with that ground-level window of that same split-level home was also the place I would go when in trouble as a child. It strongly stands out in the summertime. I’d have to go to bed early with the sun still pouring through my shades. (Side note, in Carry On, Warrior, Glennon Doyle writes about being at her lowest and being mad at the sun. For being so persistent and rising each morning as she’d try to sleep off a horrible hangover.) I would be so mad, too. I could hear the neighborhood kids continue to play out there into the night. And it took me forever to fall asleep. #grounded
One of my lowest points was my sophomore year of college. Living in the dorms. Bulimia in full force. I had just binged and purged dining center food. Friends tucked back into their dorm rooms. Me, on the floor of the dorm bathroom. Crying out to God - mouth moving, no sound. Yelling as loud as I could yet no one could hear me. Or know my secret. Sobbing. What felt like helplessness and heartache. Sat for a while. The only thing holding me, the concrete wall and cold floor. Wiped my tears. Picked myself up. Acted as if nothing happened. Carried on. #ontheground
In my classroom, I loved cozying up with my students on the rug. To read books, have Morning Meeting, or their favorite, a-penny-for-your-thoughts. Oftentimes that spot was a refuge. A place of safety, calm, and reconnecting. If a lesson was starting to go awry - gathering at the rug seemed to solve everything. We used the proximity, the closeness, and the coziness to better understand, and frankly, feel a little more peaceful. #sittingontheground
Flat as a pancake. That’s how I felt when Covid struck our home. It was like I was trying so hard not to get it that it finally snuck in and said, “You’re getting it anyway.” “Fine! You win!” was my thought. And it knocked me down. Let me tell you. Humbled me. Taught me to surrender to the things out of my control. Flat as a pancake was also how I felt after any day teaching second grade. You’re exhausted. You look around at your classroom - chaos from the end of the day. Your only thought - to collapse. Sprawl out like a starfish. Let the weight of the day sink into the floor. #knockedtotheground
I’m a nature lover. Have always been but there’s a renewed appreciation in my middle age. I love to walk barefoot in the grass and stop at the river to wade. It’s been suggested in recent years to read the book, Earthing by Clinton Ober. But also, Dr. Mercola writes, “When you walk barefoot on the earth, free electrons are transferred from the earth into your body, and this grounding effect is one of the most potent antioxidants we know of.” That gives me a lot of comfort. And the reason I do just that. #grounding
Shima Starr writes, I know you’re afraid of being rejected for your authentic self. It’s a risk. A real risk. Others just won’t see things the way you do. They won’t feel the way you do. But. Can you imagine spending the rest of your life as a seed rotting inside a husk? That’s really your only choice. You can rot or you can burst out of the ground.
Think about where you are when you open presents on Christmas morning, play with your babies and toddlers, sort Halloween candy, practice yoga, or kneel for prayer. To this day I fold laundry and sort my to-do piles on my living room floor. All these aforementioned lessons, too, have taught me to succumb or surrender and find a way to manage the overwhelm. It taught me to welcome the low and that it’s okay to be in it for a bit. Give yourself that time. Just don’t stay in it forever. Don’t dwell. And try as your darndest to climb out. Even if it’s a slow climb. Rely on others or even just yourself. Just no matter what, find a way. Seek what will pull you through and then sprout, grow … and someday hopefully, burst out. #groundup
We all need time to step away, reflect, allow things to settle and to make decisions from a grounded place … - Jonathan Beal
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