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When life gets crazy, I have to get off the grid. Lately, it’s been very much so. Stress is… Well… Stressful. It doesn’t help that I have a health condition that can be acerbated by stress. Sometimes it feels like I’m running marathon, get tripped up, and spend the rest of the time stumbling along, trying to keep up. The only problem is, I have no idea where the finish line is so exhaustion sets in and I start living more in my head than in the present.

For obvious reasons, this isn’t a good thing. Tasks get dropped, things are forgot, depression hovers. So a reset is desperately needed. A moment to step back and see what’s important. Make a plan and take a breath without the computers and cell phones and date books and people pulling at me; screaming at me that this is paramount and needs to be done first when in actuality it isn’t that important.

Thus begins my tale of an unexpected Grounding at Beavercreek Wetlands…..


Civilized in a modern world, but disconnected from a primal, powerful source of energy and healing. See, the Earth is basically a six sextillion (that’s a six followed by twenty-one zeroes) metric ton battery that is continually being replenished by solar radiation, lightning, and heat from its deep-down molten core. The natural rhythmic pulsations of energy flowing through and emanating from the surface of the Earth keep the biological machinery and global life running in rhythm and balance-and that includes you! Unfortunately, we live like cut flowers, detached from the nourishing Earth energy. Earthing, also known as grounding, is simply reconnecting to the Earth’s healing energy.

Admittedly, I didn’t head out with the intention to Ground. I just wanted to hike with my dog. Get some fresh air. However, the Universe knows what I need more than I do. I need only listen. With the occasional proverbial smack upside the head. And by smack, I mean a slip into a muddy bog. Up to my ankles. Completely covering my shoes.


Normally I hike in boots that would prevent this type of thing. Good, sturdy ones that keep my feet dry while tromping through a wetland. But this day, I was wearing ballet flats. My overwhelmed head was wrapped up in my never ending to-do list and not thinking of wearing my boots. So after my flats filled with mud and I cursed myself for not wearing sensible shoes, I figured why the hell not. I rinsed them off in a nearby stream and spent the rest of my walk barefoot.


Bonus moment: I ran into a Grandfather and his Granddaughter walking the same trail. They had got lost looking for another trail and needed directions. After pointing out the way, I warned them of the bog and small pond that had creeped across the path. Seeing my bare feet, they chose to do the same and the squeals of laughter from the little girl as the mud oozed up between her toes brought a smile to my face.

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