Walking Grounded

Hello!

Happy earth day! I thought it very appropriate that this post be about earthing, seeing how today is earth day!

Spring is here, or shall I say, spring is here today---but tomorrow it may be winter. You never know what season it may be outside tomorrow, especially if you live where I do.

This morning I woke up I felt as springy as the weather. The birds were also singing their springtime sonnet, chirping back and forth to one another, glad to be alive.   It was warm outside, the crab apple tree outside my window, though sparse in pink blossoms, smelled delicious!

            I promptly went outside to greet the new day, with a purpose in mind, to sink my bare toes into the warm earth.

            But before I did, I visited my two baby goats that were born yesterday, to my momma goat, (The black pearl) Named appropriately for so many reasons.

Pearl

Her naughtiness is never ending. She broke her leg a couple years ago because she likes to leap over everything, and into everything. 

Lucky for her the vet reset her leg, and she healed up nicely. But oh, she has never ceased to get into all sorts of scrapes. The day before she gave birth, she got into a five gallon bucket of grain, and I thought she was going to bloat up and explode from her greedy guts. But instead of popping, she popped out two beautiful healthy babies.

            She also is very difficult to catch to be milked. The only way I can catch her is to hold a rope out, (she likes the rope) and hold out my hand and dangle some goody for her be tempted into the rope.

            Sometimes all I have to do get snag her is to bring out the rope, and she associates it with goodies.

            And then I've caught her!

            Despite her follies, she is a fantastic milk goat, and she gives the creamiest milk---hence she has a few redeeming qualities.  Plus her babies are really cute.

            Goats.

            How did I get from springtime to goats? 

            Barefoot.

            That was my goal.

            After I checked on my goats, I took off through the alfalfa field, and made my way to sanctuary---my special place where I think, write poems in my head, plot my next stories, and connect with myself, and the earth. And have long, wonderful conversations with my sister, when we walk barefoot together.

            This sanctuary is actually not that secret, actually out in the open under the blue sky, at end of my dad's hay field.

            That is where I ground. I take off my shoes, and socks, and walk in the dirt. It's the only place I've found that actually feels good on my bare toes. Everywhere else is either too prickly, too cement-y, too poisoned with pesticides, or too roady. Which is sad, because you'd think that out here in the country there would be more real dirt roads you could sink your bare toes into.

            Once I get to the end of the field, I walk back and forth from end to end, alongside a smooth, clay, dirt road that used to be an old irrigation ditch.

            Soon that road will be turned into a cement ditch too.

            But for now, this patch of dirt is my happy place.

            Before, it was just an old, dusty, ugly dirt road.

            But now it's something much more special.

            It became special only after my sister and I learned how good grounding is for you, and we began looking for places on which our tender toes could walk without getting prickled.

            I was a bit skeptical upon learning that walking barefoot was good for you. I mean stepping on nails, and sticks aren't good for your feet! Who walks barefoot anyway? Poor shoeless people, and children!

            But as what usually happens, I began reading, and I changed my mind. I learned that grounding can reduce inflammation, promote healing, help with biological rhythms, reduce arthritis, give you energy, and help your health in so many positive ways that I decided that though my toes were tender, and I hardly ever walked barefoot, I would give it a try, and see how I felt.

            After all, as kids we all went barefoot. Who knew it was actually the best thing for our immune systems!

            I didn't. 

            Plus if you live in the cities, where can you logically walk barefoot? Where can you ground?

          I do not know.                 

            It sounds silly to say it, but once I started walking barefoot it was addicting. Walking barefoot is consoling, soothing even. At first you dislike it, because your feet are soft, and used to feeling the safety of your shoe. Every slightly pointy object becomes an enemy. But then the more you push through the pain of the prickles, you begin to notice the textures of everything you walk on. It's a sensory experience. Your feet send you loads of information as you walk. You begin to notice the dusty, salty texture of the earth, the cool mud between your toes. You walk slowly, even reverently. You are more careful of where, and how you step. You become more conscious of where you are going, and the ground you walk on.

           

You feel the lumps, and the bumps, the cool mud, the velvety texture of the powdered salty earth, the hard rock-like soil, the pricks of the salt grass, the sticks, and the sharp stuff you wish you didn't step on.

            The more you push through the uncomfortable bits, the more you begin to like it, the more you crave to walk barefoot, and the tougher your feet become, and the more clear your mind feels.

            When I'm out in public, and begin to feel the stress rise, both me and my sister have the same wish---to walk barefoot, to be and the end of our field, walking the in the dirt, the grass, and dandelions.

            It sounds odd, and a little strange. But it's one of my newfound pleasures. It's delicious to my soul. And I don't get tired of it. This morning, as the sun was beginning to rise I could feel the heat of it on my back, and the cool morning air on my face.  Cars were passing by,  probably hurrying to get to church. As the cars passed by, I wondered how I must look, walking back and forth, barefoot through the field.

            Strange, crazy even.

            But walking on the dirt feels anything but.

            Walking barefoot with my feet caressing the soil, beneath the sky, and connected to my own thoughts, has brought me more peace of mind than walking under man-made sanctuary.

            It sounds silly.

            But that is how I feel. When I walk through the dirt, my feet connected to the ground, it makes me feel more wild, more free, and more quiet in my mind, and more mindful of each step.

            Anxiety fades, and I feel less alone.

It's almost like I can sense the size of God, and the size of my problems in comparison, and all the things get put into proper perspective.

            Things that were important, now seem silly.

            Grounded.

            Like a tree.

            Solid.

            Peaceful.

            Not in such a hurry.

            Mindful.

            After I get my fill of walking in the softer dirt, I usually walk back to the house, through the alfalfa field, and brave the sharp sticks, and tread on the dandelions. But when walking through the field you have to be more careful.

            There are more things that can poke your skin. But this too, is like meditation for me. It empties my mind, and I plant one foot in front of the other, and concentrate on my next step. I have to concentrate. Nothing matters except the next step. If I don't pay attention, my feet will feel it. I follow the path of dandelions that spread out in front of me like a road of sunshine, soft, cool, warm, tender, the perfect carpet. Their feathery blossoms are ever so soft, and cool, yet their yellow buds are warm from the heat of the sun. It's like stepping on a carpet of sunshine.

            Though I do wonder if I'll end up stepping on a bee one day.

            It could happen.

            I've stepped on sticks that brought blood.

            Thus far I've been lucky. And each day my feet are getting tougher.

            After I walked on the carpet of dandelion blossoms this morning, my feet were covered in yellow pollen.

            Fairy dust.

            Sometimes mud.

            Sometimes snow even.

            Sometimes in the wind.

            I've grounded in some pretty interesting weather.

            I worry that I'll be sleeping with my grounding wire, when a thunderstorm comes up, and Zap!

            Crazy as it sounds, I've taken my van to the end of the road, loaded up my mom, with her walker, and taken my mom walking barefoot as the sun set, at the end of the road. My mom is a good sport.

           

           

            I've walked barefoot through the mud, and snow with my sister last week just after the snow fell. I walked until my feet became numb, and I had to stick them back into their boots to get warm.

            I've walked in the mud right after it rained, and got my feet so caked with mud, I was scraping mud out of my shoe for a week afterwards. 

Today my sister, my mom and I went to the sand dunes and enjoyed walking through the sand, and watching the sun set over the beautiful hills. The sand felt cool, and vibrant from the rain we had a couple days ago. It's been a while since I've been to the dunes, and as a kid I enjoyed visiting there as often as I could. It's funny how you forget simple pleasures you had as a kid, and how wonderful they still are, if you let yourself enjoy them. 

       

 
 As I was writing this post I didn't even realize it was earth day, until I went to the sand dunes, and my sister told me of this fact. 

I told her I was blogging about earthing, and thought it was an appropriate subject for the day, especially since the day had been so beautiful, and we had spent so much time out in it.
     

     It's funny, but earlier, as I was walking through the field today, I surmised, that perhaps wars might not exist if everyone's shoes were confiscated, and we had to get everywhere we had to go with our own two naked feet.

            Maybe we'd be more connected to the earth, and to each other.

      

      If we were mindful of each step, maybe we wouldn't worry so much about how our neighbor stepped.

            Maybe if we were more grounded we wouldn't plant thorns because we would know that not only our neighbor would be walking that same path, but we would end up treading on the thorns we ourselves had planted.

            Maybe we wouldn't leave our garbage on the path.

            Maybe we wouldn't put poison on the soil.

            Maybe we wouldn't cover the real things in life, with hard cement of indifference.

            Maybe we would walk differently, not so fast, and the point of our getting anywhere would be the journey, not just the destination, because we could actually feel the road we were walking on.

           

Maybe we wouldn't judge the roads our neighbor walked on so much, because we were so engrossed in walking with intention on our own path.

            Maybe we wouldn't be so quick to walk away from those we cared about, because we were deeply grounded, and connected to what mattered.

            Maybe we would find meaning in the simple things.

            And maybe that might be kind of nice.

To be grounded.

            

  

This is the book I'd recommend on grounding for those crazy enough consider the idea.

https://www.amazon.com/Earthing-Most-Important-Health-Discovery/dp/1591202833