Tools for Grounding During Anxiety

How Does Anxiety Feel in Your Body?

To me, anxiety feels like disconnection. Like suddenly losing the ground beneath my feet, or being in the middle of a conversation or a daily task and drifting out of my body. The sky might suddenly feel too high, I get a horrible sense of vertigo, like I might float away or dissolve. Have you ever felt something like that?

Anxiety can show up loud or quiet, fast or slow. It might feel like fear, like something is wrong, even if everything looks fine on the outside. It can come especially strong during big transitions, new places, unknown futures, emotional endings.

Recently, while moving between countries, I went through one of the most intense waves of anxiety I’ve ever experienced. It was during Scorpio season, just as winter was arriving in Belgium, when I made the decision to return to India. I had spent the last three months in Brussels, but inside, something started to shake. I felt emotionally scattered. My heart was pulled in different directions, between people, cities, and versions of myself. I was grateful for everything Brussels had given me, but I couldn’t stay. The anxiety started the day before I left Brussels. It followed me through the airport, onto the plane, and stayed with me until the day after I arrived in Delhi. 

I’m not sure if it was horror or beauty that I experienced when I landed in Delhi. But looking back, I realize that anxiety made everything more vivid. Every sound, every smell, every sensation etched itself into my body like a tattoo. The first two days in India are burned into my memory. Everything felt raw, present, unfiltered.

Anxiety is often just excitement misunderstood. Energy looking for direction. But how do you move through something so big, so intense, without losing yourself?

That’s what I’d like to share with you.

Here’s what helped me ground myself and find safety again, step by step:

8 Grounding Practices for When Anxiety Hits

1. Make avoiding a panic attack the top priority.
In that state, it’s not about solving everything. It’s about not spiraling. I reminded myself: the idea of fear is often scarier than the actual feeling. I focused on the physical world: my breath, my feet, the textures around me, instead of analyzing my fear.

2. Breathe into your belly.
Slow, even breaths. Equal length inhales and exhales. Feel your breath land deep in your stomach and expand into your lower ribs. Let your focus drop down to the soles of your feet.

3. Let your body slow down.
If your nervous system wants stillness, give it that. I allowed myself to lie down, close my eyes, and listen to calming music. Don’t judge the need to shut the world out. it’s a form of protection. If medication is part of your care, that’s valid too (always with professional support).

6. Make grounding choices, even if they disappoint others.
Sometimes, the kindest thing you can do for yourself is cancel a plan or back out of a commitment. I had to cancel a trip with a friend. It hurt, but I knew my mental health had to come first.
Safety is everything. Feeling safe in your own body and mind. Without that, no external beauty or adventure can be fully felt. In moments like this, we might need to be a little “selfish,” and that’s okay.

7. Create structure that soothes your nervous system.
I asked myself: What helps me feel grounded long-term? For me, it was yoga, dance, sleep, and painting. I cleared my schedule to prioritize those.
Sometimes the brain just needs a sense of certainty. So I told myself:

“We’re going to practice yoga every day this week.”
That small, solid plan gave me something to hold on to—and it worked.

8. Nourish gently.
Those first few days, I could barely eat. So I didn’t force it. Instead, I drank a lot of water, and when I could, I ate something very simple; plain bread or rice. No pressure. Just tiny acts of care.

Coming Back to Ground

Once I canceled my travel plans and chose dance and yoga instead, something shifted. The anxiety softened. I could breathe again. I could write. I could talk to a therapist. I didn’t push myself to “do” or “achieve.”
I asked instead: Is this making me feel good?
If the answer was yes, I followed that. Slowly, gently, step by step.

When we’re grounded—when our feet are firmly on the earth—we can move with the world instead of resisting it. We can spin without getting lost. We can fall and land again. And maybe, in those moments, something beautiful and poetic can emerge.