Be Still My Soul: A Restorative Practice to Circumvent Anxiety, Part I

Most people I talk to these days are struggling with notable anxiety. We often describe to one another that feeling of nervousness coursing through our bodies as we watch our democracy and government pillaged. Last week, it was the image of the east wing being demolished—a veritable middle finger to the American people. What will it be tomorrow, let alone next week? 

Given this backdrop to life, it’s not surprising that when I read Psalm 131 recently, my soul felt pricked by desire, awakened by an ache for the comfort it imagined. Within this three-verse Psalm are poignant, transfixing images; a vision of how to circumvent anxiety. So consider this Part I of a new series, Be Still My Soul: A Restorative Practice. What follows are three posts elaborating specific instructions gleaned from Psalm 131 to help us circumvent anxiety.

This particular Psalm, by the way, is part of a collection of 15 Psalms called Songs of Ascent, or Pilgrim Songs. Some songs were written by David, one by Solomon, and others anonymously. The proposed history behind them is that they were sung or recited as the Jewish people made their way on pilgrimage to Jerusalem, an uphill climb. They are Psalms rich in imagery and admonishment to keep going, even when life’s trajectory is steep. 

Written by David, Psalm 131 begins: 

O Lord, my heart is not lifted up, my eyes are not raised too high;

David must have made this journey to Jerusalem many times. He had personal experience in knowing how to journey to this city with such a daunting elevation. It would be natural to keep looking up toward the city, the ultimate destination. Yet if you’ve ever hiked up a steep hill, you know that you’re better off to keep your eyes focused on the next step, rather than the precipitous climb or how much further you have to go. 

1. Stay Grounded in Your Body 

   
   

Is that what David meant when he wrote the first line of this song: “My heart is not lifted up, my eyes are not raised too high;”? Was he coaching himself on how to make the arduous journey toward Jerusalem, or, for that matter, how to approach the very nature of life’s journey? “Keep your heart and eyes grounded in your body; in the reality that is your life, rather than what exists beyond you.” David wisely counsels.  

There’s also another element to this first line in our pilgrim’s song that is equally important and more explicit in other translations. It’s the idea of remaining humble as I locate myself and my center of gravity right where I am, in my body. The NIV translates the first line, “My heart is not proud, Lord,   my eyes are not haughty;” It conveys the idea of being humble, of living low to the ground, close to the earth; of not lifting oneself above others or looking down on them from a higher elevation.  

To stay grounded in my body is to remember who I am and where I am. To remember my shadow. To remain aware of the less noble, unflattering, dishonest dimensions of my heart and motivations. This produces humility because it grounds me in the truth that I am no better, no more important, no more righteous than fellow pilgrims trying to make their way in this life. A good dose of humility would be healing and helpful for us all! 

Humility, after all, keeps me in touch with my own complicity and our commonality. This makes the ground we are on level ground! When I see you, I must look you in the eyes. And when you see me, you must also look me in the eyes. None of us—no matter the depth of spirituality, biblical knowledge, moral acumen, or political sophistication—is perfect. We are human, embodied people who possess both dark and light, selfishness and goodness, twisted and untarnished inclinations.

So, beloved, step #1 in our pilgrimage during these anxious times is to stay grounded in our bodies, living close to the earth. We must root ourselves in the reality that is our lives: who we are and where we are. That’s how we avoid becoming so “heavenly minded” that we are of “no earthly good.” (Some clichés are just so tempting!)

Walking this Out with My Breath:

As a connoisseur of the contemplative tradition, I’ve noticed there’s a lot of emphasis on being embodied. Perhaps one of the big reasons is that when we ground ourselves in our body, we are immediately—rather stealthily—ushered into the present moment. Being “in” our bodies, we become present to God’s Presence, not to mention our own authentic selves. 

One practice that helps me stay grounded in my body is to attend to my breath through practicing “breath prayer.” Just a couple of days ago, David and I were hiking and talked about his own breath prayer: “I am my Beloved’s. My Beloved is mine.” (It’s a line from Song of Solomon, fyi.) I immediately began to practice inhaling “I am my Beloved’s” and exhaling “My Beloved is mine.” For much of our hike, I stayed with this pattern of breathing as it guided me to ground in my body and be present to the Creator who is both within and all around me. It was striking how healthy it felt, how grounding, to abide in Love! 

If you, like me, are looking for a way to circumvent the anxiety you carry in your body, may I gently encourage you to take this first step, heralded by King David and many contemplative connoisseurs ever since. Stay grounded in your body! Breathe! 

Warmly, Beth Booram

October 29, 2025

The Lily Pad