Know Your Ground
If holding your ground is what you are called to most days it helps to know your ground.
— Kathleen Norris
Our ground is rich with the diversity of lives that came before—their triumphs and tribulations, creations and incantations—an inheritance of resilience, wildness, and a fierce grace. This legacy is not only of our human kin but of place—the rivers, mountains, wingeds, four-leggeds, and tenacious trees that teach us the way of roots, of knowing intimately the ground beneath our feet.
To hold our ground is to draw from this lineage of Earth, tethered to landscapes that remember us, that carry the shape of all beings who have ever called this place home. Our roots descend through time and terrain, binding us to something larger, something sacred and steady—a ground that lives not only beneath us but within us.
As we root into our heritage, we are invited to root into our own aliveness and loveliness, into the rugged beauty woven into our flesh and our very hearts. This kind of grounding calls forth a gentle courage, a softer way of being. Our steps grow steadier, our choices truer. Anchored in the vastness of our ancestry and the loveliness of our own spirit, we learn to walk with tenderness and resilience, becoming ourselves part of a timeless landscape, entwined in its holy rhythms and rooted in its wild wisdom.
How are you holding your ground today? What are your roots, and where do they go? Do they call you deeper into the wisdom of place and spirit?