The 3-Step Grounding Technique I Teach in My Anxiety Course

Sometimes, when anxiety rises, it feels like being swept into a current you can’t see but can certainly feel. The mind rushes ahead, the breath shortens, and suddenly, the world around you turns into a blur of too-much and too-fast.

But grounding—coming back into the body, into this exact moment—is like reaching for the steady bark of a tree while a storm rages. You don’t stop the storm. You simply find something strong enough to hold onto.

Over the years, I’ve taught many versions of grounding, but there’s one three-step process I return to again and again because it’s simple, powerful, and kind. It meets you where you are—no performance, no perfection—just presence.

Step One: Notice What’s Here

Close your eyes, or don’t.
Let yourself land.

Notice what you can see. A streak of light across the wall. The way your mug leaves a small ring of condensation on the table. The soft tremble of your hands.

Notice what you can hear. A bird outside, the hum of the refrigerator, your own breath rising and falling.

And notice what you can feel. The ground beneath your feet. The air brushing against your skin. The solidness of the chair that holds you.

It’s not about making things better—it’s about making them real. Anxiety thrives in the imagined future, in the what-if and the maybe. Grounding begins in what’s certain, what’s right here.

Like the herons that stand motionless in the shallows, we come back to the present by being still enough to see it.

Step Two: Anchor Through the Body

Your body is not the enemy—it’s your oldest home.
And sometimes, it just needs your attention to remember that it’s safe.

Start with one deep breath, slow and deliberate. Feel it move through you.
In through your nose, expanding your ribs and belly.
Out through your mouth, as if exhaling through a straw.

Then, gently, press your feet into the ground. Feel the muscles in your legs engage. Let your shoulders drop a little. Roll your neck from side to side.

You might whisper to yourself:
I’m here. I’m safe enough right now.

This step isn’t about forcing calm—it’s about reminding your nervous system that it can rest for a moment.
Because even in the midst of panic, your body is capable of steadiness.

When we anchor through the body, we stop trying to think our way out of fear.
We feel our way through it.

Step Three: Name What You Need

Once you’ve come back to your body, the final step is asking yourself a question so simple, yet often overlooked:

What do I need right now?

Not the grand, life-altering needs—the gentle ones.
Maybe it’s a sip of water. A stretch. A slower pace.
Maybe it’s stepping outside to feel the wind on your face, or sending a quick text that says, “Hey, today feels heavy.”

When you ask your body what it needs, you begin to rebuild trust within yourself.
You stop abandoning yourself in the rush to be okay.

Because grounding isn’t just about surviving a moment of anxiety—it’s about re-learning that you can show up for yourself when things get hard.

Why This Works

These three steps—Notice, Anchor, Name—create a bridge between the body and the mind.

Anxiety often disconnects the two. It pulls you into the future, into endless loops of what-ifs. But grounding brings you back into your senses, your breath, your physical experience.

It’s not magic. It’s biology.
And yet, when practiced consistently, it can feel miraculous.

Each time you ground, you’re gently retraining your nervous system to recognize safety again. Over time, you begin to notice that moments that once felt impossible now pass more easily. You still feel the waves—but they don’t knock you down quite so hard.

This is how healing works—not as a single leap, but as hundreds of small, tender returns to yourself.

Practicing Grounding Daily

Here’s what I tell my students: you don’t have to wait until you’re spiraling to ground yourself. Practice it when you’re calm, when you’re doing the dishes, when you’re walking the dog, when you’re watching the sky fade to blue.

Let it become as natural as reaching for your morning coffee.

Because grounding isn’t just an emergency tool—it’s a language of self-compassion. A way of whispering to yourself, I’m here. I can handle this moment.

And the more fluent you become, the less afraid you’ll be of the moments that shake you.

A Gentle Next Step

If you’re craving more calm, more tools to meet anxiety with kindness instead of panic, my “30 Days to Calm: A Mindfulness Journey” was created with you in mind.

It’s a therapist-guided, self-paced path that helps you build calm through daily mindfulness practices—no big time commitment or perfect zen required.

You’ll get:
✔️ Daily guided mindfulness practices
✔️ A Return to Stillness Tracker
✔️ 2-Minute Grounding Toolkit

It’s a soft, supportive way to create space to breathe again—to remember that calm is not something you find, but something you grow.

[Explore 30 Days to Calm: A Mindfulness Journey →]

Final Thoughts

Grounding isn’t about fixing yourself.
It’s about remembering you were never broken.

Even when the world feels like too much, you can still come back to the quiet rhythm of your breath, the pulse beneath your skin, the steady earth beneath your feet.

One moment at a time.
One gentle breath at a time.

Until you find yourself—right here again.

With warmth,
— A gentle companion on your journey home to yourself