How to ground yourself

It is important to learn to ground yourself. I find that my best way to gain perspective is to question my own behaviour when listening to my friends.

“Good day,” I answer my phone in a great mood. “Marriage date is set.”

“Wonderful,” the Mentalist enthusiasms back. “Have you set a living together date yet?”

“Noooo,” I rebuff his attempt to get under my skin.

“Oh well at least when you are a widow you can claim half his pension,” the Mentalist continues to rile me.

“Let’s first sell this house in Baal, move into the house in Keerbergen, become a successful MILF, get married… and then we’ll see about living together,” I go about setting him straight. “I don’t think I can claim anything.”

“Ok,” the Mentalist replies in guise of giving up.

“And I would rather think of Wim alive than the possibility of losing him,” I tell him off.

“Don’t sign a prenuptial,” the Mentalist warns me with his same teasing tone. “What’s a MILF?”

“We have already created a prenuptial,” I retort.

“Is it in your favour?” the Mentalist is obviously in one of those moods.

“Soon I will be a successful entrepreneurial millionaire and I want my millions to go to my kids,” I defend the positives of a prenuptial agreement. “MILF = Mother I would Like to Flirt with.”

“Yes true,” the Mentalist finally gives in.

“The prenuptial just says that what is yours is yours,” I reassure him of the fairness of the deal.

“Ok that’s good,” the Mentalist acquisces. “Can I use you for my blog?”

“What will it say?” I want to know as the idea alone worries me. “Am I personally identifiable?”

“I will change your identity so you stay incognito,” the Mentalist attempts to reassure me, but not successfully so.

“Am I a good character?” I ask, my mind racing with all the possibilities of what could go wrong if the Mentalist decided to write about me.

“Yes,” the Mentalist confirms my good character. “It’s about self discovery.”

“Can I read it?” I ask again, the hesitation still very tangible.

“Yes of course,” the Mentalist replies as if this is really nothing out of the ordinary.

“Do you think I will like it?” I try yet another approach to the same question. “What’s the URL?”

“I guess so,” the Mentalist answers not very sure of himself this time. “It’s not about your past. It’s a blog about relationships. Trials and tribulations. Successes and tools.”

“Okay,” I decide to agree.

“I haven’t started yet,” the Mentalist admits it’s still but an idea.

“Bet you will be successful,” I cheer him on relieved that this might be an idea to be soon forgotten.

“But as you ask good questions I will use that,” the Mentalist tells me where my part of inspiration comes into play. “Nothing about the private things we talk about.”

“Is that where I go wrong on my blog?” I want to know as doubt creeps up on me again. Is there a hidden message here?

“Yes,” the Mentalist confirms my suspicions. “Your blogs just need a lesson attached.

“Which I don’t always grasp,” I sigh with reluctance. “Or can’t explain.”

“Yes,” the Mentalist agrees. “You can slim from my blogs if you like but don’t copy. If you do give credit.

“Okay,” I agree to agree.

“Wonderful I will send you the first one to critique before I publish,” the Mentalist seems happy for now.

“Super,” I am happy when he is happy.

“Ok be good,” the Mentalist blows me a kiss, letting me know he is short for time today. “Let me know your progress with your partners to be.”

“Meeting next Friday with Steven,” I answer. I already know that nothing will come from the collaboration with Michael, but not sure if I told him this or not, and I don’t really want to start discussing more dead ends right now. I want to focus on the positives.

“Great,” the Mentalist is on to me. “Keep me in the loop. And Michael.”

“Who do you mean?” I exclaim.

“The guy you used to work with together with Peter,” the Mentalist realizes the confusion.

“Haha,” I realize where the misconstruction came from. “Pronounced the French way, it’s an entire different name.”

I know that grounding myself is the thing to do when I am confused, or worse when I am having a panic attack. I used to be unsure what that meant and how to do it. Grounding yourself is literally a way of bringing yourself back to earth. So take away all the woo-hoo and voo-doo you have heard around it, kick off your shoes and pull off your socks, plant your feet firmly on the floor and breathe deep in and out. Bonus points if you do the same exercise outside with your feet in direct contact with mother earth.

Namasté,

Fiona

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