Grounding and Letting Go

I have been thinking a lot recently about the need to be grounded. Fall is slowly dawning here. And even though the mountains aren't bursting with the New England autumn colors, the early darkness leaves me craving coziness and home.

Home. Big sigh and big smile at the same time. I love San Francisco. Damn this city and all of its dreams. It has already completely captured my heart with crazy idealism, maddening passion, and true beauty. But I do miss the other coast. I miss the sameness, the comfort of knowing where you are, having your "places" and your "people." These past six months have been a lot about the spaces and places (and people) in between. I live here, but I spend so much time away. It is the Catch-22 of this transition for me. How do you ground yourself when you are always moving? What do you ground yourself to - besides an airplane seat?

In the midst of my musing about this whole idea of grounding this week, the earth shook.

No, literally. It shook. My first real earthquake. And for the record, when you are 2 miles from a feel it.

As my coworkers excitedly said: You are REAL California now.

I have to admit, there was a little pride in that. I am a little bit California after all. Not only do I get the pleasure of paying a ridiculous sales tax on everything I buy - I also get to be involved in the moving of tectonic plates! Score!

Well, this California girl's heart was pounding. I had waited expectantly for 6 months to feel the earth shake. And instead of feeling like it was no big deal (I do yoga...I'll BREATHE through it), I felt helpless and out of control.

Add it to the list of things I can't control: I can't even know for sure that the actual ground will keep me grounded.

The yellow box...that's my first earthquake. Well, really it's plural. There were two.

In yoga, we talk a lot about grounding and feeling your body connect to the earth. By Friday of this week, I was ready to ground to anything - a yoga mat was just a bonus.

And while a weekend won't cure every worry, it can remind you that is unproductive to cower and wait for the big one. And you can't just wait for the earth to ground you, either - you need to ground yourself.

Or even better, let go of the fact that grounding has to happen in a set way.

Just let go. 

And be okay with what that feels like. To lose expectations and gain perspective.

I need to do a better job of just being.

It is what I love about my new city. Hundreds of thousands of being just being - and drawing enough grounding in that to carry on.

Now I just need to find out what that looks like for me. One breath, one moment - at a time.

Grounding in the moment. Sutro Baths on a sunny Sunday. 10.23.11. Just being.