Most mornings, I start my day with a practice that keeps me grounded and sane. It’s part meditation, part gratitude, part nervous system reboot. It’s based loosely on Dr. Joe Dispenza’s energy centers, which line up with what most people know as the chakras. I’m not a big “woo” guy, but I’ve found that what’s ancient is often just what science hasn’t caught up to yet. And this one works wonders.

Here’s how I do it. No music, no crystals, no incense—just me, a zafu (or sitting position of your choice), and a few slow breaths. If you like music, add it. But silence lets me hear what’s actually going on inside. I walk my energy centers one by one, and by walk, what I mean is that I focus on each center enough that I can create a sensation where one normally does not exist. This isn't a hard practice; it just takes a bit of trying. Then I spend 3-5 breaths at each center, sometimes more if that's what I feel like in the moment. Begin by spending a few minutes just grounding yourself, feeling into your heart, when you mind feels a little more steady I hit the next step.

I start at the base of my spine, the root. Center One. I take a breath there and say to myself, I feel grateful to be grounded. I think about my home, my body, my routines—the stuff that holds me steady when life feels like a game of dodgeball. Gratitude here reminds my body it’s not under threat. Midlife can make even capable people feel like the ground’s been pulled out from under them, but this step helps me remember I still have roots.

Next is Center Two, the sacral. Right below the navel. I feel grateful that I’m safe. Safety is one of those things you don’t notice until it’s gone. At this stage of life, your nervous system can get jumpy—too much coffee, too little sleep, too many responsibilities. Gratitude here tells my body, “You can chill. You’re not being chased.” That one phrase lowers my shoulders faster than any guided meditation ever has.

At the solar plexus, Center Three, I focus on willpower. I feel grateful I have the will to move through this life. This is the place where drive lives. When I give thanks here, I’m not trying to hype myself up. I’m remembering that I’ve made it through every challenge so far—and that’s proof enough. Gratitude here reminds me I still have agency. Midlife isn’t a fade-out; it’s a recalibration of how you move through the world.

Then comes the heart, Center Four. I’m grateful for my big heart. That might sound sentimental, but it’s not. It’s a reminder that I still care. I’ve spent decades building walls that looked like logic and independence, but they were just old armor. Gratitude in the heart space lets me take that armor off for a while. It reminds me that strength and softness can actually coexist.

At the throat—Center Five—I take a breath and say, I’m grateful I’m authentic with myself and others. That’s been a hard-earned skill. There were years I said what I thought people wanted to hear. Gratitude here is me honoring every time I spoke the truth even when it cost me comfort. It’s a practice that steadies my voice. Truth builds a backbone faster than any supplement ever could.

Then comes the third eye, Center Six, between the eyebrows. I’m grateful I see things outside the ordinary. This is about intuition, that sudden clarity that seems to show up from nowhere. Midlife has a way of clearing out the noise—you stop pretending you don’t know what you already know. Gratitude here is my way of saying, “I trust that inner signal.”

Finally, the crown, Center Seven. I’m grateful that I am a King. Not in an ego sense. More in a self-leadership sense. For the feminine, swap King for Queen. This is where I acknowledge that I’m in charge of my own energy. I’ve earned my crown through every mistake and every lesson. Gratitude here is sovereignty, plain and simple.

The whole thing takes about ten minutes. It’s not about pretending everything’s fine. It’s about training my body to remember what stability feels like. Gratitude isn’t a concept—it’s a chemical. It drops cortisol, raises serotonin, regulates heart rate. Every breath through each center resets the way my system organizes identity.

That’s especially important in midlife, when the old frameworks start to fall apart. Your hormones change. Your tolerance for nonsense drops. The roles you used to play stop fitting. The practice of gratitude at each center becomes a way to rebuild your foundation from the inside out. You stop chasing peace and start generating it.

You could do this silently, or to music, or even outside under a tree. What matters is attention—the act of noticing what’s already working. Gratitude doesn’t make you passive; it makes you powerful. It takes you out of survival mode and back into presence. And presence is where everything good happens.

So yeah, that’s my ritual. Seven centers, seven sets of breaths of gratitude, from root to crown. It’s a simple way of saying to yourself: I’m still here. I’m still becoming. And I’m grateful for every inch of ground I’ve earned.