Energy Grounding and Spiritual Expansion in Trying Times
The wound is the place where the Light enters — attributed to RumiI love the evocative power of simplicity. The wisest teachings are taught almost in silence. Our guides beyond the Veil know this: a good message needs to pay its weight in wisdom, the information conveyed in a swift manner, one that adapts to the selected audience.
Some guides communicate seamlessly, with light, breezy ease, infusing our mind with a bubble of information, layered, yet delivered swiftly at once. Others will do so in full, clear sentences whispered in the ear, creating a closeness and complicity akin to that of children sharing innocent secrets. Others are candid and naturally loving, their prime aim being to let us feel pure love. Simply. I have one who is a brilliant storyteller, using animated crayon drawings, incredibly beautiful and dynamic, the coloured crayon traces visible. Some are wise and dignified in their messages, with subtle emotion, their intention set on pushing us in our ascension path.
Such is the case of a longtime client and friend, let’s call him D. He has a strong-willed guide, Shambhunath, prone to practical, innocent pranks, and keen to teach him, gently pushing, like an Australian shepherd lightly brushing the herd, observant, dutiful and protective. For a long time, he would make his presence known at every healing session. Shambhunath watched his guidee with tenderness and laughter. He would playfully throw a handful of sand at me if my attention diverted from him — nothing has physical, damaging presence on the other side. He would remind D, as insistent as he was patient, that he needed to ground.
D is a man deeply committed to his spiritual path and, back then, resistant to the one thing I kept returning him to: grounding. Not out of the ordinary. Far from it: many serious practitioners unconsciously carry a secret but subtle contempt for the Earth beneath them, as though descending into the body were a concession, a lowering of the frequency, a step away from the light they seek with devoted commitment. He had his reasons. And I respect that.
In one session, I was shown that his nervous system was irked, spiky. Like so many, he works a high-stress job, in a large glass, metal and concrete building, diving around a Wi-Fi soup all day, walking on carpets, inside the asphyxiating closed shoe-sock combo that men who work those jobs are expected to wear; no time to breathe, drinking coffee after coffee to handle the day in his overworked, overstimulated body. Then his guide stepped in. He explained, as didactically as he could, what I needed to convey to his guidee, to finally drive the point home: grounding was paramount.
He showed me a tree: beautiful, happy, green. It pushed upward with everything it had, straining toward the divine with visible effort, pouring its energy into the ascent. It took off, its shallow roots uncovered, floating in the air, aimless, untethered from anything that could give it direction. It kept floating, blown around by the wind, until it disappeared. It became a faraway thought. He then showed me the same tree, pouring its energy into growing deep, strong roots, only then reaching up to the sky, longing for contact with the divine: in the process, by virtue of reaching up, it grew; a slow and gentle rise in self-assurance. The slower pace rendered it the best apprentice. It learnt of the winds, the temperatures at different altitudes, the pressure changes, the storms and the sun. It met other beings. It understood how to navigate securely, while still being nourished, its glowing light expanding, anchored and stable.
Today, feeling the unsettled energies around me, I have been thinking about this guide and the beautiful short he produced for me.
We, human beings, are going through a rite of passage, blindfolded, being pushed around by winds and currents unknown. It is difficult to see the light in the middle of the storm. The swirling, rumbling energies are cracking our reality wide open, letting it be known that it wasn’t real after all. Some are removing the blindfolds. Others are tying them tightly.
Much like those trees, we thrive on steadiness and security, yet that is precisely what we apparently can’t fall back on right now. When fear strikes, the human’s energy contracts, like snails our subtle bodies withdraw into our fleshy shell, systematically ungrounding, leaving us untethered from what we most need: divine connection.
Divine light carries codes. They enter our light stream and move through it deliberately, reaching every corner, every cell: no one is exempt, no one is skipped. They call for waking time, rowdy and loud and without hesitation, fully knowing that the time has come to let go of the old costume. A good tan glows brighter when we sunbathe naked.
Some are not allowing it in. Not willingly, their blocking efforts fruitless. This new Light is kind, yet unwavering in the clearing process: the doors and windows will open, no resistance can change their intelligent fate. And, if uninvited, they are cracking open entries and exits wherever resistance meets vulnerability. They are excavating relentlessly, surfacing whatever stagnant energy has been left unseen, untouched. The unconfessed grief, the unspoken guilt, the secret, inherited fears guarded away from the world. All out. The anger, the rage. The losses we learned to step around so efficiently that we forgot they were underfoot. All regurgitated to the surface, to be dealt with. The purpose of this shakeup is none other than healing. Becoming yourself. As a single speck of Light. As a nation. As a collective. Out in the open. The uncomfortable unveiling forcing a collective reach, a solidarity, a compassion and a love that is long overdue.
The body knows what to do with this energy. We release something that has been held so long it has calcified into the very architecture of our nature, woven into our behaviour, shaping our bodies, dictating how we move, breathe and hold ourselves in a room. A volcanic amount of dead energy is getting ready to leave. It is not elegant. Nor is it quick. And it cannot be scheduled into forty-five minutes on a Tuesday.
But, when the sobbing and the wailing dries out, when the hiccupy whimper subsides, silence sets in. The spaciousness that follows genuine release akin to peace. Not true lightness, but close enough that the body feels weightless, our soul in stillness, and, minus deep relief, our emotions absent. Like a vacant house, when the tenants have left after a deep clean. The inner space is clearer, more open, kinder, ready for a new beginning, for a happier tenant, a more caring one, one that will open the windows to let sunshine and fresh air in, who will open doors to opportunities and friendship. That inner space, clean and airy, can only attract light. In that silence, a vacuum opens and new energy is naturally drawn in.
This is when healing enters. Not into a defended system, not into a body still braced against the storm, but into the space that follows real surrender. The wound, as the poet understood, is precisely where the Light enters: not despite its rawness but because of it.
The gift of healing lives in turmoil and crisis: where the cracks in our being start opening, we find the precious opportunity to grow. Descent and ascent in the same strokes of light: we dip our feet into the mud, explore further down the unknown mass of Earthy material, to ensure a steady stand against high winds, still growing, still pushing our leaves and branches into higher and less dense ground.
Much like old appliances, we need to be aground to not burn when the energy jolts cascade into our body without notice or preamble.
Grounding is not a retreat from the spiritual. It is its precondition. The roots do not diminish the tree: they are what allow it to grow beyond what it could ever reach through effort alone. We do not rise by leaving the Earth. We rise because we finally learnt to trust her.
The times we are in are not asking us to transcend. They are asking us to go down, through the body, through the accumulated weight, through the unwanted tears for the endlessly unfulfilled lack felt by every single being on the planet, until we reach bedrock. From there, strain free, without even trying, growth happens.
How could we not take advantage of the opportunity? Dig and grow. Ground deep, rise high.
LoveLight. Always.
Tania Ciesler is the founder of Heaven on Call, a Spiritual Healing and Light transformation and expansion practice. She works with clients navigating psychic development, energy clearing, and the deeper architecture of the inner life, as a messenger of Spirit, higher beings, and the divine. Guidance from beyond. Healing from within.
