Grounding: Get Dirty and Find Your Peace

As children, we are often told not to get dirty. “Stay out of the dirt.” “Put your shoes on.” “Don’t touch that plant—you might get a rash.” “Be careful. There could be bugs.” And yes, playing outside means we may come home with filthy feet, grass stains on our clothes, and dirt under our fingernails. And if you’ve ever had poison ivy, you know that’s certainly no picnic.

But maybe getting dirty isn’t something we should be quite so afraid of. Maybe getting dirty is exactly what we need.

There is something wonderfully healing about putting our hands into the soil, walking barefoot through the grass, sitting beneath a tree, or simply allowing ourselves to be surrounded by Gaia—our Mother Earth—and all her children. Especially now.

We have just moved through the powerful energy of a Pisces Moon and eclipse—a time that, for many of us, can feel like endings, beginnings, and enormous change all happening at once. Old things will fall away. New hopes emerge. And somewhere underneath all of it, a new version of us is waiting to bloom. Whew! It’s a lot.

When everything seems to be ending at once, it can feel as though your world is crumbling. But sometimes what feels like destruction is actually the clearing of space for something that has been waiting a very long time to enter your life.

During those times, I believe one of the greatest gifts we can give our bodies, minds, and spirits is to return to the Earth. We need that energy. We need that steadiness. We need that Mother love.

The elements surround us—Earth, Water, Air, Fire, and Spirit—and each reminds us that we are part of something much greater than whatever difficulty is happening in this particular moment.

So go outside. Take off your shoes. Feel the grass beneath your feet. Put your hands in the dirt. Let the wind blow across your face, and the sunlight warm your skin. Let nature wrap her roots and leaves around you for a little while.

The Horses Already Know

I watch my horses ground themselves, and it is fascinating. They instinctively search for the places where the Earth feels good beneath them. They find their favorite spot, lower themselves to the ground, and roll. And roll. And roll some more.

My horse Blue is particularly good at this. Give Blue a good scrubby bath and get him perfectly clean, and watch as he finds the best patch of dirt he can find and gets filthy again. I love it. And really—what the hell? I can always rinse him off again.

Blue isn’t concerned about staying clean. He is responding to something instinctive. He wants to feel the Earth against his body. He is living in the Moment!! Perhaps animals remember something that we humans have forgotten?

When Playing Outside Was Just Playing

I remember being a single mother in my thirties, raising my young twins while working as an on-air radio personality in Miami, Florida.

We lived in a townhouse then, and my twins attended nursery school. My daughter had a little friend named Alexandra, whose family was from Spain. The children were five years old.

One afternoon, Alexandra came over to play. Her mother had dressed her beautifully. Of course, the children wanted to go outside. And outside meant dirt.

My daughter came to me and asked, “Can Alexandra borrow some shorts and a T-shirt?” Of course she could. Alexandra changed into play clothes, and off they went. They played. They explored. They got dirty.

By the time they came back inside, they were filthy—and absolutely beaming. I put the girls into the tub, washed my son, found everyone clean clothes, and put Alexandra back into the beautiful dress her mother had brought her in. Three hours after she arrived, her mother returned to find a squeaky-clean, happy little girl.

Did those children have fun? Hell yeah. Did they ground themselves? Of course they did. But they didn’t know that.

They weren’t outside because someone had told them grounding was good for their nervous systems or their spiritual development. They were outside because they were kids and wanted to play. Maybe that’s the part we’ve lost.

Let Them Get Dirty

I sometimes wonder whether we have taught today’s children to be afraid of getting dirty. We want to protect them—and understandably so. Bugs bite. Bees sting. Poison ivy exists. But dirt washes off. Isn’t that what washing machines and bathtubs are for?

And have you ever watched a child become fascinated by a bug?

Several years ago, I had a young coaching client who was about five years old. When I sat down with her for the first time so we could get to know each other, she proudly pulled out her box of worms.

I had to laugh. She was a complete tomboy. So was I. And suddenly, there it was—the connection I needed. Those worms became part of the rapport that helped this little girl feel safe enough to open up and talk to me.

Children don’t need us to teach them how to love nature. In many ways, they already know. Perhaps our job is simply to give them permission to remember. To take off their shoes. To chase a bug. To dig a hole. To climb. To explore. To come home with grass stains on their knees and dirt beneath their fingernails.

And perhaps, while we’re allowing our children to do it, we should allow ourselves to do it too. Because sometimes finding your peace doesn’t require another class, another book, or another complicated spiritual practice. Sometimes you simply need to walk outside, take off your shoes…and get dirty.

But Why Does Grounding Feel So Good?

So why does grounding feel so good? And why do animals seem to do it so naturally?

Have you ever watched your dog run outside, drop into the grass, and roll from side to side with what looks like a giant doggy smile? They know. But why have we forgotten?

Long ago, our ancestors relied upon nature for information. They watched the trees, birds, insects, and animals. Nature could signal an approaching storm, the presence of strangers or predators, the location of water, or simply that something nearby had changed. They paid attention because they were part of nature—not separate from it.

Across generations, many Native American and other Indigenous cultures have maintained traditions that recognize a deep relationship between human beings, animals, the land, and the natural world. While every Indigenous nation has its own distinct beliefs, customs, and traditions, there is much we can learn from teachings that emphasize respect for the Earth and gratitude for what she provides.

Water is not simply something that comes from a faucet. Food does not begin at the grocery store. Trees are more than landscaping. Animals are not simply here for our use. The land beneath our feet is not something to be taken for granted.

Everything that sustains us ultimately comes from this Earth. Perhaps we could practice a little more gratitude for that. Before asking, What can the Earth give me? we might begin asking, What can I give back? How can I walk upon this Earth with greater respect?

I believe we still can feel that connection. We have simply become too busy—and surrounded by too much noise—that many of us have forgotten how to listen.

I am personally very connected to Gaia, and I look for signs in nature. I pay attention to the animals, and especially to the birds. Since my horse Dodger passed, I have noticed a red cardinal and his mate visiting the tree in front of the place where I sit each morning with my coffee.

Some mornings I have walked outside earlier than usual and thought, Hmm…where is my cardinal? And BOOM. There he is, landing on a branch in the tree in front of me.

Does everyone have to interpret that experience the same way I do? No. But for me, it creates a moment of connection. It makes me stop. It makes me notice. And it reminds me of love as a message, possibly from Dodger and definitely from the earth.

Within shamanic and other spiritual traditions, animals, birds, and even insects can carry symbolic meanings. Learning those traditions can give us another way of asking ourselves: What am I being invited to notice? What needs my attention? What might I need to change?

Whether you see those moments as spiritual messages or simply as invitations to become more observant, the result can be beautifully similar: You become present. And presence is at the heart of grounding.

Coming Back Into Our Bodies

I once watched a documentary called The Earthing Movie, which explores the practice sometimes called “earthing”—direct physical contact with the ground—and stories from people who believe it has helped their well-being.

There has also been scientific interest in grounding or earthing, including preliminary research into areas such as inflammation, sleep, and stress. The evidence is still developing, however, and grounding should never replace appropriate medical care.

But there is something else we know much more clearly: spending time in nature, moving our bodies, slowing our breathing, and stepping away from constant stimulation can be enormously restorative.

Think about your own experience. After a difficult day at work—or simply a difficult day—go outside. Put the phone away. Take off your shoes where it is safe to do so. Feel the ground beneath you. Listen to the birds. Notice the wind. Breathe.

You may notice your shoulders beginning to drop. Your breathing may become slower. Your mind may become quieter. For a few moments, you are no longer trying to solve everything. You are simply here.

Gaia Knows How to Begin Again

The planet has rhythms too. Rain washes the Earth. Storms reshape her. Autumn arrives, and the leaves die and fall. Winter creates a period of dormancy and stillness.

Then comes spring. The time of Rebirth. Flowers emerge. Bees return. Tiny green leaves appear on branches that looked completely lifeless only weeks before.

Gaia reminds us over and over again that an ending is not always an ending. Sometimes it is preparation. Sometimes we need our own winter before we can experience our spring.

Our beautiful Earth also needs us to become better custodians of her. We have become incredibly busy, and sometimes I fear we are moving so quickly that we no longer notice what we are doing to the very home that sustains us.

Gaia is our Eden. Perhaps reconnecting with her is also how we begin protecting her. Because when you love something, you take care of it.

Your Grounding Practice

So, I’m giving you a little homework.

1. Get outside.

Put your phone away for a few minutes. Be completely present with the Earth. If it is safe, take off your shoes and feel the ground beneath your feet. Close your eyes.

Imagine roots extending from the bottoms of your feet deep into the Earth. See them moving farther and farther down until you feel anchored and supported. Breathe. Feel your connection. Feel the love of Gaia. And be grateful.

2. Start noticing nature again.

Watch the birds. Notice the insects. Observe the animals. You don’t have to believe that every cardinal, butterfly, or dragonfly carries a mystical message. Just become curious.

What appeared today? What were you thinking about when you noticed it? What did the experience make you feel? Let nature become part of your conversation with yourself again.

3. Become a better custodian of this beautiful Eden.

Ask yourself one simple question: What can I do differently to care for the Earth that cares for me?

It doesn’t have to be enormous. Plant something. Pick up litter. Protect pollinators. Use less. Waste less. Teach a child to respect an animal instead of fear it. Small acts of love still count.

4. And if you feel called to experience grounding with animals, find me.

My work with horses and other animals has shown me again and again how powerfully they can bring us into the present moment.

Here in North Georgia, I work with a beautiful farm environment surrounded by acres of pasture and rescue animals. Through my coaching work, I have supported veterans, women, and children who have experienced trauma, as well as people who simply feel called to reconnect with themselves through animals and nature.

Sometimes you don’t need to talk your way back to yourself. Sometimes you need to stand beside a horse. Breathe. Feel your feet on the Earth. And remember who you are.

But even if you never come to see me, do the first three things. That’s enough to begin your own relationship with Gaia.

We spend so much of our lives trying to stay clean, stay controlled, stay connected to our phones, and stay one step ahead of whatever comes next. Maybe peace is waiting in the opposite direction.

Take off your shoes. Put your hands in the soil. Listen to the birds. Watch your children play. Let the dog roll in the grass. Let the horse ruin his beautiful bath. And every once in a while, give yourself permission to do the same.

Go ahead. Get dirty.

(And BTW…I love Tom Boys! I think we become super sexy and confident women, NOT afraid of LIFE.)

TAKE ACTION: Give yourself a few minutes outside today without your phone. Notice the ground beneath you, watch what the birds or animals are doing, and let yourself be curious. Then choose one small way to care for the place you’ve spent time in. If you feel drawn to reconnect with nature alongside horses, explore Gina Deleo Martell’s work at Fire Horse Spirit and Healing.