The Ancient Art of Finding Calm in an Age of Overwhelm

Anyone who has read any news in the last few years would agree that the world feels like it's spinning out of control. We are surrounded by crises, whether it is wars breaking out all over the world, a faltering economy, or loved ones falling ill. This unpredictable life can leave us feeling powerless, riddled with anxiety and a gnawing worry about the future.

I consider myself generally relaxed and adaptable. I tend to go with the flow of life, accepting reality and trying my best to navigate it with a smile on my face. Yet, there are times when I find myself feeling helpless, with worry about the future gnawing at me until I can barely think straight. At times like these, I need to remind myself to take a mental step back and ask a simple question: "is this something I can control?"

If you've read my reflections before you'll know I'm a big fan of the ancient concept of the dichotomy of control. At its core, it's about distinguishing between what we can influence and what we cannot. If we can influence it, then we do what we need to do. If we can't, then we don't worry about it. It's a simple concept, but real life application is anything but easy, especially when we're in the middle of some sort of crisis.

Letting go of what we can't control is a skill that requires practice and patience. We will not master it overnight. There are days when the weight of the world feels unbearable, when the barrage of negative news, the constant hum of complaints around us or our own personal struggles make it nearly impossible to stay grounded. I have learned to offer myself grace in these moments, acknowledging and accepting the feelings of anxiety and worry that flood us. Being human means navigating an inherently unstable world.

But here's the thing: while it's perfectly normal to feel these emotions, we can't let them consume us. We still have meaningful work to do, and withdrawing from the world when things are challenging helps no one. Mindfulness provides a pathway to regain clarity and purpose. I don't mean sitting cross-legged and thinking about nothing for a few hours (though, this is also an option). I'm referring to being fully present in the moment. Anchoring ourselves in the here and now, rather than losing ourselves in the past or future.

There are many ways to be mindful, such as meditation, yoga, tai chi, walks in nature. I have found that simple breathing is often easiest. It isn't complicated, and can be done anywhere and at any time. Whenever I feel myself spiralling into anxiety or frustration, I close my eyes (if it's safe) and focus on the sensation of the cool air entering my nostrils, and the warm air leaving it. I focus on the feeling of my shirt on my chest as it rises and falls. I touch something around me - a table, a pen, or the fabric of my clothes - and feel the texture under my fingers. I pay attention to the sounds and smells around me. These simple, tangible sensations help to ground me in the present.

Once grounded, I can then revisit my question: "is this something I can control?" I find that, after calming myself, it's an easier question to answer and act upon.

Reflecting on my journey with navigating anxiety and the dichotomy of control, I'm reminded of the importance of self-compassion. We're living in a time of immense uncertainty, and it's natural to feel overwhelmed. It's normal to have days when the weight of the world feels too heavy to bear. What is important is to remember that these days don't define us. How we pick ourselves and respond to the demands of life is what defines us.

As you navigate the challenges of your life, dear reader, I encourage you to reflect on what's within your control and what is not. What do you have the power to change? How can you focus your time and energy on the things that truly matter? If you’re feeling anxious, give yourself permission to be human. Focus on what you can control. And when you start spiralling, breathe deeply, ground yourself in the present, and remember you’re doing your best.

Until next week,

Ric.