Yesterday, as I do a few times a year, I opened every window and door in my house and burned sage like a woman trying to evict the paranormal. My mantra is simple: Please remove any energy in this house that isn’t serving me (and everywhere else in the world – that was a new addition bc what the fuck is happening).

By afternoon I was lying on the floor crying while Kris watched with the cautious concern of someone observing a car crash.

I spent years working in the humanitarian sector as a storyteller. I led a team that documented the photos and interviews about people surviving the worst moments of their lives. Disasters, conflict zones, famine, displacement. My job was to help the world look directly at it.

I have professional experience in the category of “How Do You Stay Human When Humanity Is Being Questionable?”

Normally I’m pretty good at it.

This week, however, the darkness has been a little louder than usual.

So, for anyone else currently coping with the feeling that the world is a big group project where half the class didn’t do the reading, here are a few survival tips from someone who has seen some things.

1. Study History. It Lowers Your Expectations.

One of the most comforting realizations you can have is that people have always been like this.

We just didn’t have smartphones broadcasting it into our nervous systems every 60 seconds.

Humans have always fought, hoarded, ignored warnings, and repeated catastrophic mistakes with impressive confidence.

So when the news feels unbearable, I find it oddly soothing to remember: This is not new.

And yet somehow we are still here.

I understand how crazy it is that my coping mechanism to a current genocide is reading about a previous one, but here I am.

2. Borrow the Brain of Kid

After having a kid, I’ve discovered the best antidote to existential dread is doing whatever they’re doing.

Coloring. Painting. Crafting.

These activities require total presence. Your brain doesn’t have the bandwidth to spiral about geopolitics when you’re trying to color in a troll’s skin.

Admittedly, sometimes this brings another wave of grief because you remember that other parents in other places have been robbed of these moments.

That thought is gutting.

But the answer isn’t to abandon the joy you still have. The answer is to hold it tighter. Joy is not disrespectful to suffering.

3. Dance Like the World Is Ending

Another tactic: spontaneous dance parties.

Loud music. Kitchen dancing. Zero choreography.

There is something profoundly healing about reminding your nervous system that your body is not currently in danger—even if your brain believes civilization may collapse.

Movement helps move the dread out.

Also, if the apocalypse does arrive, I would prefer to greet it during Donna Summer song.

4. Accept That Fairness Was Never Promised

This one is the hardest.

Last year our government gutted peacebuilding, prevention, and diplomacy, work that is cheaper, smarter, and saves lives before catastrophe begins.

And now here we are.

It’s hard not to scream, WE TOLD YOU SO.

But the universe has never been particularly interested in fairness. The sooner we accept that, the less surprised we are when things are unjust.

We still fight for better outcomes.

5. If You’ve Seen the Darkness, You Also Know the Light

One of my darker moments in this work happened while working on content coming out of Gaza.

When you’ve worked in this space long enough, you’ve seen a lot of malnourished children. But some of the images and stories we heard bypassed all the coping strategies. They land somewhere deeper. You can’t meditate your way out of that.

You carry it.

And yet — here is the strange thing about witnessing the worst of humanity: You also witness the best.

The mothers who move ANY obstacle out of the way for their kid to have a better life.
The communities who rebuild.
The aid workers who keep showing up while the bombs drop.
The kids who still laugh and dance in refugee camps.

The light is there.

6. Do Something Useful

The one advantage of having worked in humanitarian storytelling is that I know the feeling of doing something helps, even if it’s small.

Action is one of the few reliable antidotes to despair. Despair is passive. Purpose moves.

Final Survival Tip

If you feel overwhelmed by the world right now, congratulations: you are a functioning human with empathy.

That feeling is not weakness. It is evidence that your heart is working properly. And the world needs more of those.

So open the windows.Burn the sage. Cry on the floor if you must.

Then get up. Dance in your kitchen. Do one useful thing.

Because the world has always been a little on fire.

An Unhinged Guide to Finding Joy While the World Is on Fire

Millennial Midriff