Grounded

I was 18 years old the first time I heard the word “grounded” used in an instructive instead of a punitive way. A professor said, “Don’t ever touch the computer unless your grounded…” It wasn’t my first electronics class but it was the first time I had ever worked on the insides of a desktop PC. The reasoning behind the instruction was sound: ignore the mandate and risk frying the components. Not the best practice if you’re trying to fix the computer for someone else! In addition, you yourself could get hurt if you weren’t grounded. I wore my grounding strap faithfully and I never got injured.

I notice that this idea of being grounded is getting a lot of traction lately. In fact, I notice in the circles I regularly frequent people are speaking of grounding mats you can purchase. Items that you lay on or place your feet on, with wires that make their way outside your home and into the soil of your backyard. I frequent different circles than most. But isn’t that exactly what I and the rest of those students were doing in that lab at Thomas Nelson 30 years ago? “Grounding” ourselves to the earth outside?

As kids, the last thing in the world we wanted to hear was that we were grounded but as adults it’s a badge of honor. We strive to be grounded in who we are. It seems to me that what we are hoping for is a sense of health, stability, and well-being in all areas of our lives – physically, emotionally, financially, vocationally, and (for some) spiritually.

It’s an admirable goal. For a time it felt like I had achieved this. Life was good and I was content. But I’ve come to realize that that sense of groundedness can be lost really easily. If just one of those areas of your life gets to a state of slight unhealth, you can probably stand firm but if 2 or even 3 shift more than a little, you quickly find your groundedness slipping away. And truthfully, the shifting of 1 more than a little may lead to an unsettling of others.

Remember when circus performers used to spin plates atop thin rods? They would move back and forth between them, trying to keep all the plates spinning…spinning…spinning. And they could keep that pattern going for a while. But if they focused their attention for too long on any one dish that was in trouble, another would start to slow down and totter. Eventually they wouldn’t be able to reach the wobbling plates in time. And plate by plate, things would begin to fall apart.

Totter. Totter. Totter. Crash.

Anne Lamott, in her infinite wisdom, asserts that “almost everything will work again if you unplug it, including you.” That is probably the safest way to work on a computer, too. Just unplug it and minimize the risk of damage, for it and for yourself. It’s also safer that way to work on those delicate, internal systems.

I’ve spent this past year largely unplugged, trying to reclaim my groundedness. Not to go back to who I was before but to figure out who I am meant to be now. I have been slowly checking those internal systems, one by one, for levels of deterioration but also for signs of life and potentiality. First up, physical health; a close second, emotional well-being; slowly but surely, spiritual vitality and soon vocational fortitude and future possibilities. Financial fitness has always been largely Robin’s, but I am trying to be a little more knowledgeable of this as well.

In the coming weeks, I’ll be sharing a little bit about what I’ve discovered during this time “off the grid.” In the meantime, remember –

“Almost everything will work again if you unplug it, even you.” Computers, unless you tinker with them, will be exactly the same after you plug them back in. People might be too, I suppose. Unless you tinker…