grounding and slowing down in response to overwhelming times
As nights grow longer and days grow colder, we have an instinct to hide under warm covers and take an afternoon or two off. The energy that, just a few weeks ago, pushed some of us to run marathons, travel to new countries, or tackle the lawn and garden with everything we had now seems to be fizzling out.
It is almost time to hibernate for the year (in our own modern, techy little ways).
We start bundling up as pumpkin spice season arrives, reaching for warmer clothes, heavier blankets, and comforting routines.
Yet, beyond these familiar seasonal habits, there is something worth paying attention to: our changing energy levels and the desire to slow down.
Rather than fighting this shift, perhaps we can learn to work with it.
In a world that encourages us to remain productive regardless of the season, slowing down can feel almost counterintuitive. We have become accustomed to filling our schedules, consuming information, and finding new ways to occupy our attention, even when our bodies are asking for a little less.
But as the natural world retreats into a quieter rhythm, we might consider allowing ourselves to do the same.
Perhaps this is an opportunity to reconnect with what grounding means in our everyday lives: noticing the changes around us, listening to our bodies, and making room for rest without feeling that we must earn it first.
Sometimes, we mistake distraction for rest. We spend an afternoon tucked beneath a warm blanket, scrolling through our phones, moving from one video to the next, or checking in on what everyone else is doing. Hours pass, yet we may get up feeling just as mentally cluttered as before. Our bodies have been still, but our attention has hardly had a moment to settle.
There is nothing inherently wrong with these small comforts. Sometimes, it is worth asking ourselves whether our habits are helping us feel restored or simply keeping us occupied.
Rest is not always about doing nothing. Sometimes, it is about allowing ourselves to experience something without immediately reaching for the next thing.
As the days grow shorter, perhaps we can use this seasonal shift as an invitation to become a little more intentional with our attention.
Instead of filling every quiet moment with noise, we might allow ourselves to notice the world around us: the changing light through the window, the sound of rain against the glass, the warmth of a cup between our hands, or the leaves on the trees.
These small experiences can become opportunities for grounding. Grounding is often described as a way of bringing our attention back to the present moment, particularly when we feel overwhelmed, anxious, or disconnected. Rather than getting caught up in everything that has happened or everything that still needs to be done, we begin by noticing what is happening here and now.
Our bodies are an important part of this process.
As Bessel van der Kolk explores in The Body Keeps the Score, overwhelming experiences can affect not only how we think and remember, but also how we experience ourselves physically. Stress can show up as tension, restlessness, shallow breathing, or a persistent feeling of being on edge. Although grounding is not a solution to every form of stress, gently reconnecting with our surroundings and bodily sensations can offer a starting point for noticing what we need.
Perhaps we do not need to disappear into hibernation entirely.
Perhaps we simply need to create a little more space between ourselves and the constant demands for our attention.
We can allow the colder months to become a time for quieter routines, slower mornings, longer walks, reflective writing, and moments of rest that do not need to be justified by how much we have accomplished beforehand.
And we can start small.
A simple grounding exercise: Five minutes to return to yourself
A small practice for a quiet morning, a busy afternoon, or any moment when life feels overwhelming.
Put your phone aside. Find a comfortable place to sit, whether that place is by a window, on your couch, or outdoors.
Notice what is around you. Without rushing, identify three things you can see and two sounds you can hear. Let your attention rest on each one for a moment.
Reconnect with physical sensations. Notice where your body makes contact with the chair or floor. Feel the texture of your clothing or the warmth of a blanket around you.
There is no need to change anything.
Take a gentle pause. If it feels comfortable, notice the natural rhythm of your breathing. You do not need to take deep breaths or force yourself to relax.
Ask yourself one question: “What do I need in this moment?”
Resist the urge to judge or fix the answer. Perhaps you need movement, food, quiet, connection, or simply a little more time.
You do not need to feel completely calm at the end. The purpose is not to achieve a particular state of mind, but to practise noticing where you are and what you are experiencing, without immediately distracting yourself from it.
As the season changes, consider making this a small daily ritual.
Five minutes without a screen, a walk without a destination, or a quiet cup of tea can become reminders that you are allowed to inhabit your life rather than constantly rush through it.
You can sit with your thoughts, reflect on them, and let them guide you through your day, rather than allowing them to pull you in every direction at once.
You have the freedom to sit with your thoughts, examine them, and let them guide you through your day instead of allowing them to pull you in multiple directions at once.
Sometimes, clarity comes not from doing more, but from allowing ourselves to slow down long enough to notice what is already there.
Maybe slowing down is not about doing less with our lives, but about being a little more present for the lives we are already living.
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