Feeling the Weight: Finding Hope in a Heavy World

I’ve struggled to write this week. A deep sense of sadness, even hopelessness, has been hanging over me.

Are you feeling this way, too?

The world feels heavy. The depression and anxiety I’ve worked so hard to manage are creeping back in. It’s been difficult to focus, and I catch myself slipping into old patterns — beating myself up for not being enough, not doing enough. Everywhere I turn, I see proof of my shortcomings.

I fell short of a business goal I had set for myself. (Even typing that makes me feel like crying.) At my 9-to-5 job, I feel like I’m drowning. Yesterday, during a team meeting, I took something said way too personally. It struck a nerve, amplifying the self-doubt that was already festering beneath the surface. It wasn’t that my colleague meant to criticize me — I just heard it that way because I was already hyper-focused on the negative.

I know I’m not alone.

This morning, my therapist told me many of her clients are expressing similar feelings. I meet weekly with a group of incredible women from around the world for business accountability, and they too expressed feeling a heavy weight.

The world’s uncertainty, the political climate, and the overwhelming sense of division are affecting many of us. Fear and distrust seem to be at an all-time high. Instead of coming together in this hyper-connected world, people are retreating into echo chambers — only trusting those who think like them. Respect and kindness often feel like they’re in short supply, replaced by judgment, anger, and defensiveness.

For those of us who grew up in a different time (I won’t say how long ago — some things should remain a mystery, lol), the world can feel much more dangerous than it once was. Many people are struggling financially, watching resources being distributed unevenly, and feeling powerless to change it. And the more these struggles are reinforced, the deeper mistrust grows, and the more we lose something of ourselves.

After years in public safety, I’ve seen people at both their best and their worst. I can tell you — there are very few truly bad people in this world. Most of us don’t want to live in fear, anger, or hopelessness. But when mistrust takes hold, it’s hard to break free.

So, what can we do?

How can any of us make a difference in a world that feels so out of our control?

By shifting it.

One person, one interaction, one moment at a time.

You don’t have the power to control what others believe, but you can influence the world around you. Through kindness. Through respect. Through seeing people — not looking past them. You can shift your mindset from fear and frustration to confidence and hope. You can choose to acknowledge and value people, even if they don’t look, think, or act like you.

You can respect those who disagree with you. Listen to their stories. Understand their perspectives. You don’t have to adopt their beliefs, but seeing them as human — as someone simply doing the best they can, just like you — makes it easier to find common ground. Instead of living in an exclusive bubble, you can create a community that is inclusive and strong.

Today, I baked chocolate chip cookies. I plan to share some with a neighbor. Maybe they’ll pass on a small act of kindness to someone else. And just like that, the ripple begins.

Don’t underestimate the power of small acts of kindness. They matter more than you think. Each one of us holds the power to make the world a better place.

What’s Been Helping You Lately?

I’d love to hear how you’ve been managing the weight of the world lately. Feel free to share your thoughts or small acts of kindness that are making a difference in your day.

PS – An Update on My Dusting Saga

In case you were wondering after last week’s blog … yes, I finally dusted the piano. But now the floor is covered in fluff from the latest victim of my dog’s toy destruction spree. Normally, my trusty robot vacuum would take care of it, but he suffered a tragic malfunction somewhere between the piano and the couch. He sent distress signals to my phone, which I promptly ignored.

My kids, in their usual fashion, are either oblivious or uninterested in rescuing him. And at this point, I’m just waiting to see how long it takes for someone else to care.

I’m not holding my breath.