When All I Can Do Is Ground and Breathe

A quiet moment in the middle of a very loud world.

I think a lot of people quietly believe they’re bad at spirituality.

It isn't because they don't care, or because they aren't trying. I think it's the opposite, honestly. There seems to be so much spiritual advice built for people with endless focus, endless energy, and nervous systems that cooperate on demand. And because of that, a lot of people who don't fit those descriptions aren't comfortable admitting it.

This bothers me, though. Spirituality isn't just for "some" people. And in a world full of social media presenting perfection in everything from bodies to parenting to professions to motivation, it can be easy to lose sight of what is an optimized example and what the average experience for a normal person actually is.

Just as we don't all earn six figures, have perfect skin, or a flawless dimple-free backside, perfection in spiritual practice isn't what the average practitioner experiences either. Our practices can be just as unique to an individual as the freckles across their nose.

I know many people who feel that meditation isn't for them. They may have trouble quieting their mind, or sitting with their legs folded and crossed just so. I'm one of those people whose knees do not appreciate the "criss-cross applesauce" sitting position. (One of the many reminders of the mileage on my odometer!) I usually opt to meditate while seated in a comfortable chair.

Sometimes I try meditating while laying down, and that can lead to me simply falling asleep. That used to feel like a fail - I'd think "I can't even meditate without falling asleep!". I've grown to understand my body's reaction to that quiet time. That's not a fail in the "Meditation" column - that's a win in the "Body Got Some Much Needed Rest" column. And honestly, maybe rest is spiritual, too. After all, our bodies need rest to recuperate from life’s wear and tear before we can focus beyond the physical. So I forgave myself for that imperfection.

Sometimes, the most I can do is simply ground and center myself. Maybe just do deep breathing exercises to bring me back into the moment, and back into mindfulness. Maybe sitting and petting the dog to calm the nervous system. There are also techniques often used during moments of high anxiety - like identifying items in your surroundings, or noticing how your toes feel in your shoes - that can bring you back into the moment and into the space of your body.

Tiny tea breaks count too.

These things may not seem as significant as the big flashy rituals of spiritual influencers on social media. But they're the little bricks that build the foundation of a spiritual practice personalized for an individual's mind, emotions, stress levels, and body limitations. They help our intuition become more attuned, our discernment to blossom, and remind us that we are part of something bigger than ourselves. And these are the things that count when it comes to truly finding your own personal path to walk toward spiritual growth. Because spirituality should support your humanity, not demand perfection from it.

Maybe spirituality was never meant to look perfect. Instead, maybe it was always meant to help us come home to ourselves. And maybe some days, grounding and breathing are more than enough.