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My apartment in Chicago was built in the early 1900s and as a result didn’t have any 3 prong outlets. This was a problem when it came to things like my computer and other more intense power cords (based on my wording here, you can tell I am not an electrician). I ended up converting a fair number of the outlets to fix this problem. My friend Matt walked me through the process. He would tell me about the wires and what I needed to do, of course with the electricity off, and soon enough we were able to use whatever plug-ins we needed. I’m not sure they were ever truly grounded, but they were adapted.
This concept of being grounded filled my prayer time this morning. I often pray laying on my back with my whole body on the ground. I like to feel the floor beneath me. On nice days in the summer I will sometimes lie on the earth outside. This helps me feel connected to something bigger than myself and something much more stable.
It probably isn’t a big surprise to those of you who know me that I often feel a little bit like a live wire. I feel my own internal energy deeply and often times it’s A LOT, so grounding myself is good. It helps me feel anchored to something beyond myself. It helps me stabilize and feel less untethered. It also probably explains my need to be around people who are quieter, calmer. My husband is one of these people; he helps me to feel calmer and more at peace.
But as I was thinking of this idea of being grounded to the earth, to God, to others, a second meaning of the word surfaced. When I was 15 years old, I spent a fair amount of time grounded. This was the summer that I was trying to figure out who I was, and I pushed the boundaries of my parents. I spent weeks at a time being “grounded” by mom and dad. Grounded at home: not able to call or see friends, not able to leave the house. I never thought about the root of this idea. That perhaps this punishment was really about being anchored in identity, my parents’ way of calling me back to myself. That on the whole it’s not a bad thing (even though it definitely feels that way when you are a teenager) but instead a reconnection to your roots. An invitation to remember who you are.
I now know I need to be grounded some days. My live wire energy needs to be rooted to something more than me. I need minutes on the floor in quiet. I need time alone and times with people who bring that sense of calm and also help me see beyond myself.
Here’s what I didn’t tell you about those outlets: I couldn’t have done it on my own. Matt had to walk me through it, wire by wire. I think that’s true of us, too. We don’t ground ourselves. We are grounded by God, whether we feel it or not, and we’re connected to one another through that same grace. So when your energy runs hot, when the world feels full of sparks, I invite you to take a few minutes on the floor, shoes off, and remember: you are not just an individual, you are a beloved child of God, anchored by something far steadier than you.
Blessings,
Pastor Joanna Mitchell
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