On this grey day in early September, I'm thinking about the concept of being "grounded." Actually, looking it up, I found that the meaning I was mulling over was one of many, which helped a bit in re-framing it.
It's a word that has been a bit loaded for me, since it often seems to be said in such a positive, complimentary way about someone who has their feet on the ground, a solid, permanent home, work or career they love, and, of course, practicality about money/saving/budgets. Even the merest mention of the word triggers a well of shame, because of course, my life has had none of those factors and I have frequently been criticized and ridiculed for it. At this very moment, I know there may be dozens of people silently praying that Liz finally gets "grounded," and practical, and "realistic." Which, of course, is unlikely to happen, per se, in the current paradigm. Yet even I have spoken about wanting my feet to become rooted in beloved physical ground, and wanting, finally, to thrive.
Some other meanings helped round the word out: knowing the basics or fundamentals of a field of endeavor. Becoming stuck (like a boat in the sand). Or even, a teenager being "grounded" for an infraction, which implies a kind of imprisonment.
It helped me this weekend to consider whether there is any way at all in which I am grounded, and of course the only one that sprang to mind is this: I believe I am grounded (to the extent to which I can intuit them) in the priorities of the divine feminine: love, freedom, creative expression, doing no harm to others or the earth, and fearlessness. I am grounded in values and trends I believe will become more and more widespread as we become post-money, post-duality, and post-hierarchy. I am not yet completely grounded in a place, although I think that's not far off, but I had to get inwardly grounded first. If it is to a set of values that many others cannot fully conceive of, I think I am finally beginning to be strong enough to withstand the pushback. I saw a funky (possibly homemade) two-masted sailboat with three triangular red sails crisscrossing the harbor this weekend, and it reminded me of me. Different. Not quite seaworthy, grounded in itself and yet not aground (important distinction). Still sailing. Even, occasionally, displaying what appeared to be a colorful, joyful, homemade spinnaker!
