Anchor

Minute 8 – 15-minute breath activation: a practice in neither fearing nor avoiding any sensations that arise, while running a current of fresh energy through the body.
Minute 25 – 20-minute meditation on finding stillness in the heart - enough to let an anchor emerge.

Years ago, I was running a training overseas, midway through, everything got messy. Emotions were high, interpersonal dynamics were getting tricky, and I was already exhausted and losing sight of how to get the group to where we needed to go.

Mid-meltdown, I called one of my most trusted sources, Patrick Creelman. It was late at night. He paused, then commanded the energy and said, “When the winds start to blow, drop your anchor, babe.”

I can’t remember what my anchor was at the time, it changes as we change, but I remember how it required me to find somewhere the storm couldn’t touch; a clear ground of belief and behavior I could source from and rely upon.

Your anchor is your own trusted source when you sit.
A reminder, a phrase, a belief - something that holds you and leads to more settledness.
A constant that offers relief.
Not to fix anything, but to get steady with the truth.
To be with life - with less resistance.

The anchor helps us release the grip.
It returns us to choice, to sensation, to a sacred pause.
It builds the space between reactivity and response.
It is the cultivated awareness that brings us closer to what is, with less flinching, less forcing.

The winds of change are picking up.
And once you’ve discerned and chosen your anchor, it becomes not just a refuge, but a necessity.
A reliable force of steadiness.
A compass directing you to a deep sense of alright-ness, inclusive of your circumstances, not regardless of them.

We all need a place to land.
A personal ground that steadies our emotions, stabilizes the mind, and allows the spirit and body to rest.
Something you can count on internally when there isn’t much externally to lean into.

To find and drop one’s anchor is not about resisting change or pretending stillness means everything is okay.
It’s about locating what, to you, is trustworthy inside the movement.
A place you can direct your attention that leads to more ease, more clarity…more earth.

Your anchor might be the breath; constant, ever-changing, always present in sensation.
It might be anchoring in facts; simple, undeniable truths that cut through story and imaginary futures.
It might be a phrase, Memento Mori, or anything to remind you of impermanence, and to release what is not yours to hold.
Source energy, nothing-ness, love’s unconditionality, or the flexibility of perception - take your pick.

It’s not the same for everyone, and, as mentioned, it changes with time.
The invitation is not to find the anchor, but your anchor.
One that returns you to the reality of what is already and always here:
The constant reliability of your true nature, regardless of life’s fluctuations.

This is not about bypassing hardship.
It’s about strengthening something inside you.
About standing in the storm with bare feet on firm ground.
About remembering that even in pain, in change, in confrontation with the unknown,
you still have choice.