From Austria to Your Feet: Grounding Lessons from Nature

In September, I spent a week immersed in the stunning Carinthia Mountains in Austria on a Horse and Human Connection Retreat.

How horses came back into my life after half a century is a story for another day, but if you’re curious about how this unfolded and what it may reveal about my own inner work, philosophy and teachings, drop me a line, and I’ll share in an upcoming newsletter.

For now, I’d love to offer you three grounding practices, two of which I enjoyed while in Austria.

I’ve chosen these because autumn carries a restless energy. It’s dynamic, disruptive, and unsettling. We feel it in the wind, the fog, and the dampness in the air. It’s a season of release, transition, and inevitable transformation.

This shift can leave us feeling ungrounded, emotional, and out of sorts (a quirky English expression!). Add to that a world marked by climate disruption and cultural tensions, this unease can feel all the more heightened.

The more we can ground, align, and regulate our nervous systems, the more space we create within ourselves to meet these challenges with calm and compassion.

Yet for many, the idea of finding stillness or sitting in quiet meditation when we’re stressed may feel overwhelming. In those moments, mindful movement, can be a supportive alternative.

Grounding Lessons from Nature

1. Walking Barefoot

In Austria, we gathered outside in the early morning and walked barefoot on the lush green grass. There was a little resistance at first, it was early, chilly and damp! But once we started moving, my feet felt hungry for more. It was invigorating, as if they were absorbing the nutrients and pulse of the earth itself. My nervous system felt alert, and my feet tingled with aliveness that lingered long after.

I’ve had similar experiences in Thailand, walking barefoot along the beach before morning practice. It’s less stimulating, more soothing. Walking on the earth, whether grass, sand, or soil, often called grounding or earthing, helps reconnect our body with the earth’s electrical charge. 

Research suggests health benefits include:

• The tactile pleasure of massaging and easing tension through gentle massage
• Improved circulation
• Reduced inflammation
• Strengthened foot muscles
• Enhanced sensory perception and grounding

2. Walking Meditation

Thich Nhat Hanh, known as the ‘Father of Mindfulness’, taught that walking meditation is not about the destination but about being fully present in the moment with each step. In this tradition, the act of walking itself becomes the goal. This is a practice I learned from my Restorative Yoga teacher, Jillian Pransky.

How to Begin:

• Pause and stand tall, feet hip-width apart. Notice how they touch the ground.
• Take three deep, gentle breaths, letting your shoulders relax.
• Tune in to your surroundings, sounds, sights, and smells. Rather than searching for them, allow them to come to you. 
• Begin walking at a comfortable pace, slow enough to feel your steps and your breath, but not so slow that you lose touch with your environment (or may look unnatural to a passer-by). 
• Stay open to everything around you without clinging to any single detail; let your surroundings pass naturally.
• If your thoughts drift or you become distracted, simply notice that and come back to feeling your feet on the ground. Each step is an opportunity to begin again. 

You can incorporate this into everyday movements: walking the dog, stepping out of the house, on your way to meeting a friend.

Standing Ankle-Deep

Towards the end of my Austrian stay, I walked barefoot into a stream, where the water flowed easily over pebbles and rocks beside the fast-flowing river. The ground shifted beneath me, from soft sand to smooth stone, and the depth changed slightly with each step. I moved slowly, feeling my way forward, until I found a spot that felt just right, and there I paused.

I closed my eyes and listened. The sound of the water surrounded me, and I remembered that more than half of my body is made of water. Standing there, with water flowing around my ankles I felt a quiet sense of connection, as if the water and I were one, part of the same continuous flow.

Try it yourself, you may be surprised!

Nature is a master of essentials. In autumn, trees instinctively draw energy down into their roots, shedding leaves not out of loss but of wisdom: conserving strength, preparing for what’s to come.

In this way, autumn invites us to do the same. To draw inward, to nourish what sustains us, and to trust that release is not an end, but part of an ongoing rhythm of renewal.

I’d love to hear how these practices work for you. Send me an email and please reach out with questions or requests.

With warmth,
Karen x