You can't deep breathe your way through *gestures wildly*
After a hard day, I opened Instagram in bed and saw a new horror that had come to light. Within minutes I felt my throat tighten up, a wave of nausea course through me, my stomach bottom out. I felt both antsy and bone-tired. I wanted to cry, to rage, to run away. I felt enraged yet helpless. This is the fight/flight response in action. Over a few words I read on a tiny screen in the safety of my bed.
Our animal bodies were designed to assess and respond to a time-limited physical threat: a predator, fellow human, natural disaster. And afterwards, they were designed to switch out of threat mode through crying, hugging, laughing. It’s the panic of visiting a loved one in the hospital then hugging and telling jokes when you see that they’re healing.
Except now we watch as the systems we’ve relied on — ones only built for a select few — crumble. We learn about threats to our identities and our communities from the relative safety of our homes, with nervous systems responding to these threats in kind. Our bodies haven’t evolved to witness this moment in history, and yet we have to find a way to live through it in a way that leaves us intact, connected, and whole.
If you’re inhabiting a body under direct attack, your body is responding as it should. This piece isn’t going to be enough for you and I want to name that. I’m writing to those of you who are not untouched by all this — you have skin in the game — but you have enough space to make choices, even if that’s doomscrolling at night.
Nervous system regulation is having a moment and for good reason. But it can’t be the whole answer. Constantly regulating a nervous system responding to a fire hose of threats is like Sisyphus pushing that boulder up that hill day after day. We can’t keep up. I can do all the deep breaths and ice dives and walks in the world and then get a notification of some new horror and I’m back to wanting to cry and rage.
So what do we do with a nervous system meant for small tribe living in a global world full of attacks and trauma? I think there’s a false binary of either numbing out or bearing witness over and over. Making nervous system regulation your full time job as you witness trauma over and over again is a recipe for burnout. And yet for a lot of us, tapping out isn’t an option morally.
As my own therapist reminds me, look for the middle path: be more grounded in your physical body and more connected to your community. Because the resistance needs humans who are nourished, focused, and connected, not overstimulated, frayed, perpetually-online bots.
Grounding then becomes richer than just managing fear as it arises. It invites you to create a more stable life. What is the version of you that is grounded and responsive? Do you turn down work or social obligations? Do you touch grass, cook your own food, make something with your hands even if no one sees it? Movement and creating are two of the greatest gifts you can give a burned out nervous system.
But please don’t stop there. This is not another white woman saying “joy is the resistance” without a follow up. Stay engaged, yes, but focus your attention. You are one person with one 24 hour day. Pick one, maybe two causes. Find the people in your community doing the work in those areas and show up. Not reposting, actually showing up with your labor.
Be in relationship, deeply. Of course that starts with family and close friends. But you’re braver than that. Meet your neighbors. Engage in community beyond the people you are comfortable with. Your body remembers the safety of the tribe. And right now your tribe needs you.
It’s easy to get overwhelmed with all the input and advice. But knowing your north star — what you stand for — cuts through the noise. Did I move closer to this or further away today? You can find your north star by asking yourself: Who do I want to be when the world burns?
Compassion as a north star will shift how you show up in each relationship you have. Justice or freedom as north stars will shift how you spend your precious energy. Aliveness (one of my north stars) will invite you to wake up. Any of these values asks you to be intentional and repeatedly recalibrate yourself; not in a white knuckling, self-critical, gotta-prove-myself way, but in a clear-headed, connected, this-is-what-I’m-about way.
I once told a client that we can’t deep breathe through fascism — the goal isn’t to feel good after you see something horrendous. The goal is to be fully human: awake to what you’re feeling and responding intentionally. It’s closing Instagram and showing up with integrity, especially if it’s in your own community.
So let the rage and grief point you to what’s important. Then come back to this heartbeat, this community, this moment: a body that needs nourishment, a community that needs support, a world that needs more humans who are alive and connected.
After it all comes crumbling down, our world won’t be rebuilt online. It will be rebuilt community by community, body by body.




