I was still, and I Felt.

The other day, I stood barefoot in the grass.

I’ve been curious about the phenomenon of “grounding.” I don’t know much about it. Correction: I don’t know anything about it—I just know the term. I wasn’t sure what I expected to happen, but one day I walked into my front yard, took off my shoes, and did it.

The grass felt hard beneath my feet—dry and brittle between my toes. Still, I kept walking. Eventually, I stopped and simply stood there.

I didn’t clear my mind. I didn’t have some great revelation. But I became keenly aware of every physical sensation. I could literally feel the difference between the dead grass and the living grass—the brown patches and the green ones.

Maybe that was the point. Not to experience something dramatic, but to notice what was already there.

I don’t know if I’ll do it again. I’m not really a barefoot girl. But for that moment, I was present. I was still, and I felt.

Sometimes, that is enough.