There are seasons when the world feels heavier than usual. When the news is relentless, when tragedies feel close, when something in the collective air makes it hard to breathe easily. I wrote this post during one of those seasons — a week when the weight of the world felt especially real, and when the anniversary of September 11th had me thinking about grief, resilience, and how we hold each other up.
Whatever is weighing on you right now — a personal loss, fear about the future, sadness about things beyond your control — I want to start by saying this: you are not overreacting. You are human, and your nervous system is designed to protect you.
Understanding What's Happening in Your Body
When we encounter threat or tragedy — whether firsthand or through the news cycle — our nervous system activates. The sympathetic branch (fight or flight) takes over, flooding the body with cortisol and adrenaline. Heart rate increases. Breathing becomes shallow. The mind races. The body tenses.
This is not weakness. This is biology doing exactly what it was built to do.
The opposite state — rest and digest — is governed by the parasympathetic nervous system. And the good news is that we can actively, intentionally invite that state in, even in the middle of hard seasons. It takes practice, but the tools are simple and available to anyone.
You are not broken because you feel afraid or sad. You are a human being with a nervous system that loves you enough to sound the alarm. The work is learning how to tell it: I hear you. We're safe right now.
Five Tools for Regulation
1. Breathe Slowly and Deeply
This is the fastest, most accessible regulation tool we have. Place one hand on your heart and one hand on your belly. Inhale slowly for a count of 4. Hold gently for a count of 4. Exhale slowly for a count of 6 to 8 — longer than the inhale. Repeat for 2 to 5 minutes.
The extended exhale is the key. It activates the vagus nerve, which signals the parasympathetic system and begins to slow the stress response. You will feel a physiological shift — often within just a few breath cycles.
2. Ground Through Your Senses
When the mind is spinning or the heart is heavy, grounding brings you back into the present moment. Try the 5-4-3-2-1 method: name 5 things you can see, 4 things you can touch, 3 things you can hear, 2 things you can smell, and 1 thing you can taste.
This simple practice interrupts the anxiety loop and gives your nervous system something concrete to anchor to. It takes about two minutes and it works.
3. Move Gently
Emotion is energy in motion — and sometimes the body needs to move that energy through rather than hold it still. Go for a slow walk. Stretch gently on the floor. Sway to calming music. You don't need intensity; you need circulation and breath and a body that feels free to move.
Even five minutes of gentle movement can shift the emotional and physiological state meaningfully. Don't underestimate small.
4. Limit the Noise
This one is important and sometimes hard to hear: step away from social media and the news cycle for at least an hour — ideally more. Consuming continuous coverage of tragedy keeps your nervous system in a state of low-level alarm, even when you're not consciously feeling distressed.
Staying informed is not the same as staying saturated. You can care deeply about the world and still protect your nervous system's capacity to rest.
5. Pray or Meditate
For me, prayer is where I go when nothing else feels sufficient. Not recited words — honest conversation. I talk to God about what I'm feeling. I name the fear, the sadness, the confusion. I ask for peace. And then I sit in silence long enough to actually receive it.
If prayer isn't your language, meditation works in the same spirit — sitting quietly, breathing, releasing the need to fix or solve or understand, and allowing something larger than your own mind to hold the weight for a moment.
"The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit." — Psalms 34:18
You Are Not Alone in This
Grief has a way of feeling isolating even when it's shared. When something hard happens — in the world or in your personal life — it can feel like you're carrying it alone, even when millions of people are feeling the same thing.
You're not. We are connected in our humanity, in our love, in our fear, and in our resilience. The fact that you feel deeply is not a burden — it's a sign of how fully you are alive and engaged in this world.
A note for parents and coaches: the children and young athletes in your life are watching how you handle hard things. They're learning from your steadiness. Your willingness to name emotions, regulate openly, and return to peace — that's some of the most important modeling you can offer.
A Prayer for Peace
If it would serve you, I offer this prayer:
Lord, we bring you the fear and sadness that feel too heavy to hold alone. We ask for your presence in these moments — not to remove the hardness, but to remind us that we are never in it alone. Comfort those who are grieving. Steady those who are afraid. Give wisdom to those who need to act. Give rest to those who are exhausted. And in the quiet moments between the noise, let us feel your peace — the kind that surpasses understanding. Amen.
If you're looking for more support in regulating your nervous system, I have free breathwork and mind-body connection videos available on this site. They're simple, accessible, and designed for exactly these kinds of moments. Find them here.
