ADAPT & Joy: A Path from Hopelessness to Action — and to Laying Down the Burden

​Recently I came across an acronym shared by creator Shauhin Davari that is both inspiring and actionable, and has helped me rethink my relationship with anxiety and hopelessness. It’s called ADAPT, and it offers a pathway from paralysis to purposeful action.

I last wrote about the power of naming our emotions and recognizing my own feeling of hopelessness. Now we’re three weeks into a war that violates both U.S. constitutional law and international law. Like many, I’ve been wrestling with dread, disappointment, and a constant pull to consume more news. Limiting my media intake helps keep me grounded, but the uncertainty and the environmental and human toll surrounding this conflict remains deeply unsettling.

An environment of constant crisis and information overload can leave people feeling powerless, which diminishes engagement. ADAPT gives us a roadmap out of that trap.

 A — Act (because action metabolizes anxiety)
"We are, perhaps, uniquely among the earth's creatures, the worrying animal.” - Lewis Thomas, M.D.

Anxiety often drives doomscrolling. We try to reduce uncertainty by seeking more information, but instead we often absorb more fear, stress, and helplessness. The first A invites us to shift the cue: instead of letting anxiety trigger scrolling, let it trigger action.

One small action is enough:

• Send an email or make one phone call to your elected officials.
• Donate to independent journalism or a humanitarian project.
• Look for a small volunteer opportunity in your neighborhood.

And there are actions that can help stabilize our stress at home, too:

• Return to simple routines and rituals – preparing meals, gratitude and prayer, chores, a few pages of reading, sensory anchors, daily walks, sunlight, social connection.
• Use grounding techniques: slow breathing, stretching, physical stillness. Anything that reconnects you to your body and the present moment.

These small actions steady the nervous system and interrupt the spiral.

And perhaps another A that I can add to kick this off is Acceptance. This is a tough one for me. Perhaps I resist acceptance because it feels like giving up or agreeing with what’s happening. But acceptance is not endorsement. It simply means: “This is the reality of the world right now, and resisting that reality is draining me.” Acceptance softens the internal fight so we can respond with steadiness rather than panic.
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D — Disrupt the Doom
Doom drains us.  

I’ve spent more time than I’d like to admit lamenting global events. Awareness matters, but we do not need to suffer constantly to care deeply — and no movement benefits from our exhaustion.

 Disrupting doom might look like:

• Gently redirecting conversations that spiral into despair: “I hear you — want to take action with me?”
• Replacing one hour of doomscrolling with one real-world action.
• Taking a broader perspective that helps us hold suffering  without being trapped by it.

Anger, fear, and anxiety are valid emotions. Let’s continue to name them while refusing to live inside them all day.

 A — Align Your Focus
We cannot carry every issue equally. Trying guarantees burnout. Let's instead choose of one area to focus on. It could be community activism, supporting independent journalism, environmental efforts, supporting humanitarian aid, combating disinformation, or simply cultivating more peace at home.

As Shauhin notes, wallowing feels like engagement because we’re emotionally activated, but it’s not strategic action. Alignment is.

P — Participate Locally
What’s one step you can take close to home?

Participation doesn’t have to mean running for office (though it can). It can also be volunteering, attending community meetings, supporting local campaigns, or joining organizations that strengthen your neighborhood.

Local action is where change is most accessible — and most deeply felt. And participation builds trust, creates connection, and supports democracy.

T — Together (because hostility weakens us)
“I don’t like that man. I must get to know him.” — Abraham Lincoln.

Political hostility weakens our democracy and sadly its rampant. None of us is perfectly informed or perfectly aligned. Progress depends on extending patience and compassion outward. Instead of turning on each other, we can focus our energy on the broader forces shaping our lives and find common ground in our shared desire for safety, dignity, and stability.

May we choose tolerance.
May we choose respect.
May we remember we are stronger together.

Finally, Shauhin reminds us to to protect our joy.
Joy is not weakness. Joy buffers stress, benefits our health, reconnects us to purpose, and gives us the energy needed to continue fighting for change,

As Viktor Frankl wrote, “Everything can be taken from a man but one thing: the last of the human freedoms — to choose one’s attitude.” Choosing to feel joy, gratitude, and wonder become a means of keeping our spirit intact—an act of resistance against the forces that aim to erode our humanity.

So let’s dance, laugh, create art, visit with friends, go outside and touch the real world — so we can navigate these difficult times  with strength and perspective. 

And let’s continue naming our emotions while using this ADAPT acronym to shift our cues from anxiety to action — toward peace, connection, and joy.

What's one real-world action you can take today to disrupt the doom? For me, maintaining community, staying active, increasing my monthly KQED donation, and getting ready to plant a recession garden are giving me hope.

Finally, I’ve been sitting with an insight from a wonderfully trippy and wholesome podcast I’ve been exploring — one that invites us to lay that burden down. Why do we, as individuals, feel responsible for solving the world’s problems? These are impossibly heavy loads to carry alone .The hosts suggest that sometimes we hold on to the burden because it keeps us from feeling what truly needs to be felt.

As poet David Whyte writes: “Come here now, into the arms of the waiting world. Put down that heavy burden you have carried for so long, and rest from the hard, everyday labor of not hurting, or not feeling, or not hearing, or not saying, or not seeing. Stop keeping the tears at bay. Give it all up. Just come home.” 
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It’s a gentle reminder that we don’t have to hold everything — and we were never meant to.