[ Issue #2 ]

Grounding Meditation

[ by Julene Tripp Weaver ]

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“The closer we examine and the more forcefully we interrogate and attempt to classify the world, the more complex and unclassifiable it becomes.” —James Bridle

 

The trees, the mycelium, the soil

with its plethora of living creatures.

Earthworms turn over dirt—churning bodies—

that rich playground we stand and orient 

ourselves upon—experience energy coursing

through our body—earth-force rising

into sky. The meditation I lead to ground,

to bring us into ourself, bound and formed 

by gravity. The atmosphere to thrive—

us humans and every species—held—

to have this felt-sense and appreciation

to widen into the field—360 degrees,

the space within and without—each movement

we make, our energy moving through space 

and time, each bounce, each step we give, 

we take receiving back, our body

a beat of action like a tree we steady

against earth rise into sky, our emblem: stability.

Passing ions each planetary being takes 

and gives. Ground into earth, back against a tree, 

the rhythm of sap flowing—faster in spring—

this too within us, a seasonal flux to feel.

 

Close your eyes into the dark, let go

the forward thrust—settle and let sound

reverberate through the bell chamber 

of your body, unwind your skin, let it sink 

a puddle, jaw unclenched, tongue connected 

to brain stem, a flow through your spine

into your ancient tail, the clear channel inside 

allows energy to circulate. Breath slowed 

fill your lungs, four sides: front, back, right, left, 

the ribs floating, the belly soft, the organs 

with room to work unnoticed yet necessary. 

Next your gut, four sides: front, back,

right, left. This routine, checking-in—

a way we hold ourselves relaxed

and aware with our whole

360 degree selves.

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Julene Tripp Weaver, a psychotherapist and writer in Seattle, worked in AIDS services for twenty-one years. Her third poetry collection, truth be bold—Serenading Life & Death in the Age of AIDS, was a finalist for the Lambda Literary Awards, and won the Bisexual Book Award. Her next book, Slow Now With Clear Skies, will be published by MoonPath Press. She was a Jack Straw Writing Fellow (2022-2023). Recent anthologies including a poem of hers: I Sing the Salmon Home, and Rumors Secrets & Lies: Poems about Pregnancy, Abortion & Choice. Find her onlineat www.julenetrippweaver.com