I consciously limit my time on social media, but over the past few months it feels almost impossible to log in without being hit with something heavy — violence, injustice, corruption, or simply more evidence of how broken things feel in the world.
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I last wrote about our need to seek out the good and curate our feeds for positivity, yet even with those intentions it’s been a struggle. And despite all my usual self‑care efforts I’ve still found myself in a funk. Less patient with my kids, more tired and unmotivated, and forgetting to savor the small things. And I’ve been hard on myself too. It’s humbling to feel stuck when you’re someone who understands the science behind “taking in the good.”

Last week, though, my husband shared a post that helped me finally name what I think's been simmering beneath the surface amid the heaviness of the world: hopelessness. And naming it has been surprisingly powerful — I’ve felt lighter, almost freed, ever since.

As Dr. Dan Siegel teaches, “name it to tame it.” Labeling our emotions reduces their intensity. And shifting from “I am” to “I feel” — “I am anxious” to “I feel anxious” — creates space, reminding us that emotions are experiences we have, not identities we are.

And there’s neuroscience behind it: verbalizing or writing down feelings (aka affect labeling) activates our rational prefrontal cortex and calms our emotional amygdala, the brain's fear center. Naming emotions allows our thinking brain to re-engage, gain perspective, and choose a healthier response.

Of course, this skill depends on a few things: emotional vocabulary, self‑awareness, and a healthy physiological state.

On emotional vocabulary: did you know on average, adults in the U.S. can only identify and accurately label three emotions - happiness, sadness, and anger? In her book Atlas of the Heart, Brené Brown maps 87 distinct emotions, which we need for better emotional granularity. The more specific we can be about what we’re feeling, the better we become at regulating those emotions. 

And around our physical state: we all know how easy it is to be overcome by emotions or lose control when we’re sleep‑deprived, hungry, stressed, or lonely.  The fundamentals always matter — nutrition, sleep, movement, and connection. Emotional regulation is deeply tied to our physical health.

And when it comes to hopelessness, self‑compassion is another cornerstone. As I’ve written before, self-compassion promotes emotional resilience and regulation by fostering kindness, common humanity, and mindfulness. Self-compassion combats negative thinking patterns that can lead to hopelessness and boosts motivation for change.

I’m still working to shift from self‑criticism to practicing Dr. Kristin Neff’s self‑compassion break, taking a moment to pause and acknowledge the difficulty by saying:

• This is a moment of suffering.
• Suffering is a part of life.
• May I be kind to myself.

So what do we do with this hopelessness? In a timely newsletter from leading workplace well-being expert Jen Fisher titled “Let's Talk About Hopelessness”, she reinforces the power of naming our hopelessness and the problems we create when pretending we feel otherwise. She also reminds us that hope is a skill, not an emotion. As she writes, “Hope is what you do, not what you feel. It’s the actions you take even when—especially when—optimism feels out of reach.” 

And perhaps the most important reminder she offers is that connection matters. We have to find our people - the ones who haven’t given up hope. And we need to open up and be willing to name the hard things. Strong social ties are a critical factor for our mental and physical health and are also associated with higher civic engagement, helping transforming hopeless in to collective action.

Regulating and naming our emotions is a practice. Hopelessness may still visit, but it can’t take over when we can name it. surround ourselves with people who help us carry it (thank you Albert), and take action. And as Maria Popova shared, we need to remember that there is much goodness in the world and that evil only prevails when we mistake it for the norm. So let’s keep showing up for our well-being, for one another, and with small actions that strengthen the fair, safe, and humane world most of us long for. 

In my next post, I'll share some small actions of hope that we can take. Until then, if you’re in a season of heaviness I hope you know you’re not alone. I’m right here with you, naming it, tending to it, and taking the next small, hopeful step. 

What is one small act of hope you can take today?

A few truths I've been holding onto:

1. Love is an act of courage and resistance.
2. The antidote to authoritarianism is connection.
3. Our acts of kindness and generosity, online or offline, have a ripple effect.

 
Here's why:
This year has already brought an overwhelming amount of violence and distressing global events - and it’s only February. This constant stream of troubling news can take a real toll on our emotional well‑being.
 
Chronic exposure to violence, whether direct or through media, activates our “fight, flight, or freeze” response. When the brain perceives the world as dangerous, it redirects energy toward survival — leaving less capacity for patience, empathy, and generosity. Chronic exposure to distressing events can also lead to compassion fatigue, where we feel numb or detached from the suffering of others.
 
And it’s by design. Staying informed matters, but we need to remember that because news outlets are designed to maximize our attention for profit, they often emphasize negative and sensational events. Without intentionally balancing what we consume, this constant exposure can distort our view of reality, heighten anxiety, and chip away at our sense of trust.
 
So how can we break the cycle?

Setting healthy boundaries around media consumption is one place to start. I’ve personally set timers for my social media apps and am trying to make it a habit to reach for a book — not my phone — in moments of boredom.

We've also got to intentionally seek out the good.  Curating our social media and entertainment can genuinely support emotional well‑being. Seeing stories of kindness has been shown to counteract the negative effects of consuming bad news. So let's seek out uplifting content, ask your friends or coworkers about their bright spots or what’s been bringing them joy, and practice random acts of kindness.​

Staying connected to supportive communities, family, and friends is next. It’s essential, but it also takes real effort – which may help explain why more than half of Americans identify as lonely and nearly three in five say no one truly knows them. Staying indoors won’t solve this. We have to push ourselves out of our comfort zones — so join that book club, take that fitness class, show up to your employer’s wellness events, and invite people over. Small acts of reaching out can create the connection we’re all craving — and remind us that the world is less frightening, and far more human, than it appears online.
 
And speaking of inviting people over...according to The Atlantic, America is in a party deficit. In a time when we’re so hungry for connection and community we have to be the ones who open the door and invite people in. And as Priya Parker reminds us, gatherings become meaningful when they have a clear purpose — when we’re intentional about why we’re bringing people together and what we hope the experience will create.
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For me, that purpose has been creativity.  Making something with your hands  — a card, a collage, a mobile, or my newest intrigue: neurographic art — is a powerful and accessible tool for managing anxiety, reducing stress, and connecting to the present moment. It provides a sense of agency in this chaotic world and is a great reason to gather. For the past two years, I’ve been hosting art parties — crafting DIY holiday gifts and, most recently, Valentines. Hosting these gatherings takes work (and requires childcare!), but for me, it’s been a way to honor my values and share light.
 
As Bad Bunny reminded us at the Super Bowl, “the only thing more powerful than hate is love.” Choosing love in a divided world takes courage — and none of us does it perfectly. I certainly don’t, especially as a parent, which is why I often return to Dr. Becky’s “good inside” philosophy and my practice of self-compassion. I also think that courage often begins inward — in treating ourselves with the same kindness we hope to offer the world. When we practice love, kindness, and connection — with ourselves and with others — we invite others to do the same. These are practices. They are choices. And they ripple — exactly what this moment needs.

What about you? What truths have you been holding onto as of late? What helps you stay positive and connected when the world feels overwhelming? What’s a gathering you’ve been craving — and what’s stopping you from initiating it? ​