Grounding for Health

Grounding is a practice that involves direct contact between the feet and the ground, such as walking barefoot on grass, soil, or sand. In the West, it is associated with reducing inflammation, improving sleep, and maintaining the body's electrical balance. In Traditional Chinese Medicine (TCM), this connection with the Earth is linked to the flow of Qi (vital energy), the balance of Yin and Yang, and the strengthening of the meridians.

In TCM, Earth is one of the Five Elements and governs the Spleen and Stomach, the organs responsible for digestion, nutrient absorption, and emotional stability. Walking barefoot strengthens this energy, supporting digestive function and mental well-being.

In modern society, excess Yang — caused by stress and a hectic routine — is common. Contact with the ground calms the mind, reduces anxiety, and balances energies by introducing more Yin, which is associated with stillness and coolness.

Another benefit is the reinforcement of Kidney Qi, which is essential for vitality and longevity. The feet contain key points in TCM, such as Yongquan, located on the sole and belonging to the Kidney meridian. Known as the "Bubbling Spring," stimulating this point enhances energy circulation and promotes a sense of grounding.

Grounding also improves blood circulation and Qi flow, benefiting those who experience energetic stagnation — often linked to muscle tension, headaches, and irritability. Additionally, it helps eliminate internal dampness, a pathogenic factor in TCM associated with symptoms such as fatigue, bloating, and mental fog.

Incorporating grounding into daily life is simple: walking barefoot in nature for a few minutes each day, massaging the soles of the feet, practising Qi Gong or Tai Chi outdoors, or using grounding mats to simulate contact with the earth. This ancient habit complements practices like acupuncture, enhancing balance and vitality in alignment with TCM principles.

Comments

The Fallacy of Self‑Sufficiency

Some people will tell you — quite loudly, usually — that they are enough. They need no one, thank you very much. Entirely self‑made. A closed circuit. I, too, fancied myself an island at one time. A small, sturdy principality of one. I paid my own bills. Made my own tea. I even spoke aloud to myself in the supermarket queue, which was meant to prove something. But late at night, when all the heroic independence had been done for the day, there it was — a sort of homesickness without a forwarding address. You know the feeling. You’re supposedly sovereign, but you still wish someone would knock. Self‑sufficiency is a word that weighs a bit too much. It sounds like an insurance policy or a piece of camping equipment. It promises freedom, but only the kind you can fit in a box. Like eating an entire birthday cake alone — which, I confess, I’ve done. Because the truth (and it arrives, as truths tend to, when you’ve just burned your toast) is that we are made of others. We are es...

A Pause Between Heartbeats

Time doesn’t tick. It breathes — unevenly, almost nervously. Sometimes it opens itself like a window you didn’t know was there. And inside that window, someone waits. Not with urgency, not with despair. Just a subtle weight: Will you come? Will you listen? You don’t need to prepare. You don’t need a speech. You only need to stop — to let the world stumble for a moment while you say, Yes, I’m here. That small pause, almost nothing, can be everything. Not everything in the dramatic sense. Everything in the sense of air when it was almost not enough. It’s not about how many minutes. Time has never obeyed clocks. What matters is the shift — leaving the room, the page, the self — to enter someone else’s trembling. Someone asks, not out loud but between words: Can you see me? And if you do — even for a beat — something sacred happens. Not salvation, no. Just a flicker of light that says, You are not alone. And that flicker, believe me, can change a day, a night, sometimes a life....

Research shows that parental warmth shapes our worldview — how might acupuncture offer a reparative experience in adulthood?

It is becoming increasingly clear that our worldview — whether we perceive life as welcoming or hostile — is shaped far more by the emotional bonds of early childhood than by material hardship or environmental risk. A recent study, published in Child Development , revealed that an adult’s sense of safety, beauty, and benevolence in the world is deeply rooted in the warmth received from parental figures — more so than in their exposure to poverty or danger. This finding resonated with me on a personal level. Time and again, I encounter patients in clinical practice who, despite being outwardly successful and high-functioning, carry an abiding sense that the world is cold, fragmented, even threatening. In acupuncture sessions, it is not uncommon to witness how such emotional imprints — stored not only in the mind, but also in the body — manifest as chronic anxiety, diffuse pain, insomnia, or emotional detachment. Through the lens of Chinese medicine, these states reflect imbalances...

The Hyggelig Journey

Search This Blog