Grounding Techniques That Actually Work
- Celia Bray

- Jul 16
- 4 min read
I used to think grounding meant calming down.
If someone had suggested a grounding exercise to me ten years ago, I would probably have smiled politely and then carried on doing whatever felt more productive. There was always something more important than stopping to notice my breathing or the feeling of my feet on the floor. Besides, I was functioning. Working. Travelling. Looking after other people. From the outside, everything appeared perfectly manageable.
My body was telling a different story.
There was a constant tightness across my chest that had become so familiar I barely noticed it anymore. I rushed through meals without tasting them. Walking became another opportunity to think rather than something I was actually experiencing. Looking back, I realise I spent years treating my body as little more than a vehicle for carrying my mind from one task to the next.
I see this often in the people I work with as well. Someone will tell me they feel anxious all the time, or disconnected, or exhausted despite sleeping reasonably well. They have often tried meditation apps, breathing exercises and every wellbeing recommendation the internet has to offer. When none of it seems to stick, they understandably assume they are doing something wrong.
Usually they are trying too hard.
Grounding is not another performance to master. It is simply the process of helping your nervous system recognise where you are. Trauma, prolonged stress and burnout all have a way of pulling us out of the present. Part of us remains busy scanning yesterday, anticipating tomorrow or rehearsing conversations that have not happened yet. Meanwhile, the body is standing in the kitchen making a cup of tea, completely unnoticed.
I remember discovering this for myself while living in India. Life there invited a slower rhythm than I was used to, although I resisted it at first. Standing on a street corner in Himachal Pradesh, there was little point trying to hurry anything. Traffic moved according to its own mysterious logic, people stopped to talk without constantly checking the time, and somewhere in the background there was always the sound of dogs barking or someone making chai. The first few days I felt restless, as though I should be somewhere else. Then, quite unexpectedly, my shoulders began to soften. Nothing in my circumstances had changed dramatically. My body had simply found enough space to stop bracing.
That experience taught me something I still come back to. The nervous system settles through experience, not instruction.
One of the simplest grounding practices I know is also the least impressive. Before moving from one task to the next, I stop for thirty seconds and notice where my body is being supported. The chair beneath me. My feet making contact with the floor. The weight of my arms resting by my sides. There is no visualisation, no attempt to empty my mind. I am simply giving my attention back to something that is already happening.
It surprises people how effective this can be. The body responds to concrete sensations because they belong to the present moment. Thoughts can move backwards and forwards through time within seconds. Physical sensation cannot. It is always happening now.
Another practice I return to regularly is slowing down something I would normally rush. Making coffee, washing dishes or hanging washing on the line all work surprisingly well. The task itself is not important. What matters is allowing yourself to feel it. The warmth of the mug, the texture of the towel, the cool air on your hands as you reach for the next peg. These ordinary moments become small opportunities for the nervous system to remember that it is here rather than somewhere it once needed to survive.
Research supports this more than many people realise. Studies exploring somatic approaches to trauma have found that awareness of physical sensations can improve emotional regulation and reduce physiological stress over time. The change is rarely immediate or dramatic. Instead, the nervous system gradually learns that it no longer has to remain in a constant state of readiness because it has repeated experiences of safety in the present (Payne, Levine & Crane-Godreau, 2015).
One thing I have stopped expecting is for grounding to feel peaceful every time. Sometimes the first thing I notice is how tense I actually am. My jaw is clenched. My breathing is shallow. There is a knot in my stomach that has probably been there since breakfast. That can feel discouraging until you realise the practice has not created the tension. It has simply allowed you to notice what was already there.
That shift in perspective changes everything. We often judge ourselves for feeling dysregulated when, in reality, our bodies are finally becoming honest enough to tell us how they are doing. Awareness comes before regulation. You cannot soften muscles you do not realise you are holding tight.
Perhaps the most helpful thing I have learned is that grounding does not require adding another hour to an already busy day. Most of us already have enough moments. Waiting for the kettle to boil. Sitting in the car before walking into work. Standing under the shower. Walking the dog without immediately reaching for a podcast. These pauses seem insignificant, but they accumulate. They remind the body that life is not only deadlines, notifications and the next thing that needs doing.
I still catch myself drifting away sometimes. Halfway through a walk, I realise I have missed the sound of birds or the feeling of the wind because I have been planning tomorrow. The difference now is that I notice sooner. I come back to my feet, my breathing, the world immediately around me, and my body usually follows.
It turns out grounding is not about becoming a calmer person.
It is about becoming easier to find.
References
Levine, P. A. (2010). In an Unspoken Voice: How the Body Releases Trauma and Restores Goodness. North Atlantic Books.
Payne, P., Levine, P. A., & Crane-Godreau, M. A. (2015). Somatic experiencing: Using interoception and proprioception as core elements of trauma therapy. Frontiers in Psychology, 6, 93.
van der Kolk, B. (2014). The Body Keeps the Score: Brain, Mind, and Body in the Healing of Trauma. Viking.
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