Last Tuesday, I sat in my backyard for an hour doomscrolling. Images of people being forcibly ripped from their families, screaming children, and peaceful protesters met by seemingly unfeeling members of the National Guard filled my screen over and over. I couldn't tear my eyes away. Sometimes I realized I had stopped breathing. I kept asking myself how this could be happening and I could feel the hopelessness and hate bubbling up in my heart.
I put my phone down and closed my eyes. I could hear birds and the kids next door jumping on their trampoline. I could hear the traffic in the distance, people going about their lives. It was peaceful, and yet, there is not peace in this country, and this world, for everyone.
Right now I am launching a holistic wellness coaching business and my book, Radical Wellness, will be out in July. It is all very exciting and feels like what I should be doing with my life. But as I am posting on social media and writing blogs about wellness, I have been wrestling with: How do I talk about wellness, mindfulness, and holistic health when the world feels like it is burning? How do I shop for food in a store full of fresh produce and make healthy meals while people starve in war zones? How do I sleep soundly for 8 hours while immigrants lay awake on cement floors in detention centers? How do I share practices to cultivate inner peace when there is so much outer chaos? Is it tone-deaf to post about my morning smoothie and my gratitude journal when people are fighting for their basic rights?
I am not sure I know all the answers, but I have to believe that wellness isn't separate from justice.
But, how do I process all this hopelessness and anger? It makes me want to divide people into two groups. One group is loving and compassionate. The other is hateful and ignorant. And that actually really pisses me off. I work hard to see the good in everyone and it is hard to be loving towards someone who is hateful, much less an entire group of people who I view as hateful.
When we feel grief over injustice, that's our hearts breaking open with love. When we feel anger at oppression, that's our souls recognizing what's sacred and worth defending. These emotions aren't problems to solve or feelings to transcend. They're intelligent responses to a world that needs our fierce compassion.
The depth of your grief reflects the depth of your caring. The intensity of your anger reveals the strength of your values. Both are forms of love in their rawest, most unfiltered state. Grief and anger aren't obstacles to empowered action. They are the raw fuel for it. The goal is to remain present with despair and let it empower you, not overpower you. As activist Joanna Macy said, "It's okay for a heart to be broken over the world. What else is a heart for?"
When you stay present with despair without letting it consume you, you're not just building emotional resilience—you are developing the ability to feel deeply while still choosing hope and action. Our difficult emotions can teach us what matters most. This is how we grow our capacity not just to empathize, but to act.
This brings me to think about the complexity of the issues we face. All of these people who are here doing jobs that other Americans don't want to do—grow and pick our food, slaughter and pack our meat, clean our hotel rooms—while they try to live good lives. How long do you think they have to wait for their asylum court date? My daughter, Lily, is a paralegal in an immigration law practice and I have learned so much from her and admire the work they do. She told me that people who have court dates now have been waiting 4-5 years and these are the people who have managed to get dates and that is just to start the process that could take many more years. They are trying, but the system is anything but fast and it costs them a lot of money in legal fees.
As humans, we have faced complex and heartbreaking issues throughout history. Recently, my husband and I watched a documentary about Winston Churchill during WWII. I was struck by what one of the commentators said—basically that many British people and politicians were ready to negotiate with Hitler for "peace" after seeing France fall after the rest of Europe. They were afraid and rightfully so. If it was not for Churchill's steadfast stance to fight until the end against fascism, Europe would be a very different place today full of intolerance.
As bombs dropped on London, Churchill's rally cry was framed in a very interesting way: "These are not dark days; these are great days – the greatest days our country has ever lived; and we must all thank God that we have been allowed, each of us according to our stations, to play a part in making these days memorable in the history of our race." Thank God for Churchill.
Churchill saw opportunity for courage and solidarity even in Britain's darkest hour. He knew that challenging times reveal what we're capable of as individuals and communities. There is always going to be important work to be done in the world and taking care of ourselves mentally, emotionally, physically, and spiritually ensures that we can keep showing up to do it.
When we take care of ourselves, we're not being selfish. We're being strategic. Every time you ground yourself through breathwork, you're building the nervous system resilience needed to show up for others. Every time you move your body to process stress, you're maintaining the physical and emotional capacity to sustain your advocacy. Every meditation session is preparation for staying present in difficult conversations instead of shutting down or lashing out.
The communities that have survived the most oppression throughout history have always understood this. They've created rituals, songs, foods, and practices that nourish the spirit while the body and mind face unimaginable challenges. Wellness practices aren't luxuries. They are tools that help us survive and thrive. Your wellness is a personal journey and it also helps you show up in the world with love and compassion.
Active Hope in Practice
It is not easy to stay hopeful. It is difficult to walk a tightrope over a pit of despair. But taking care of ourselves is essential to create the balance, stamina, and mindset needed to walk that line. This kind of hope is active! Active hope does not ignore reality. Active hope invites wellness to be a key ingredient in being human. It allows wellness and happiness not only to exist along with heartache but to be essential to building a new future. We must remember, as George Seaton Bowes said, "Anxiety does not empty tomorrow of its troubles, but it empties it of its strength."
Active hope allows us to say:
Yes, things are hard right now, and I'm going to practice gratitude for what is beautiful.
Yes, the news is overwhelming, and I can take a break to laugh with friends for my mental health.
Yes, the future feels scary and uncertain and I have agency to plant seeds of compassion.
It is so important to start with yourself so you can keep showing up. Lily works hard all day fielding emotionally charged calls from clients in detention. And I am also very proud of the way she shows up for herself—eating healthy meals, exercising, and making time to laugh and socialize with her friends.
Having a reason to stay well is the best way to stay accountable, and one of the best reasons is so that you can keep showing up in the world for yourself, your family, your community, and for others who need your support.
Wellness Practices for Turbulent Times
Stay informed without getting overwhelmed: When the news and social media feels relentless, turn it off and come back to your body. Focus on your breathing and what you can hear. Building a regular mindfulness practice into your life will help you navigate overwhelm with more ease.
Release with movement: Your body holds the stress and anxiety of injustice. Movement can help you breathe deeper and release. Dance, walk, or stretch to help you transform that heavy energy into something lighter that can flow through you with hope. Regular exercise keeps you strong, flexible, and capable.
Build community: This can be as simple as scheduling a weekly walk with a friend to share what you are doing. Maybe there is a healing meditation you can attend. Being with others reminds us that we are not alone.
Sometimes the most powerful community building happens around the simplest acts—like sharing a meal. There's something transformative about breaking bread together, about the vulnerability that comes with tasting someone else's cooking, about the stories that emerge when we gather around food made with love.
My friend Michelle understands this power deeply. In 2018, Michelle started hosting refugee dinners at a vacation rental house she owns in Portland, OR. As an avid traveler, she knows what it is like to be in a new country where you feel disoriented and overwhelmed trying to understand the language and culture. On top of that, refugees are dealing with the trauma of fleeing horrible situations. She wanted to help soften their transition to their new home. With all of the confusion, separation, and pain in the world, especially in the lives of refugees, Michelle saw an opportunity to bring people together to create community and understanding through the sharing of food and conversation.
The idea is simple....The refugee family cooks a meal from their country of origin for 20-30 people. Michelle always begins the evening with an ice breaker question which brings the room together. Then everyone enjoys the amazing meal which is followed by stories about what the refugees' lives were like and how they are now. People listen with open hearts and ask questions.
These evenings give the refugee family a few things:
All of the money raised goes directly to them. On average each dinner raises $1,600 which is equivalent to 2 weeks of work for a minimum wage job.
They are the teachers for the evening. They get to share and be the star, allowing them to feel pride.
They honor and remember their birth place.
They meet locals in their new home who welcome them - and locals meet refugees who inspire them.
After several years of hosting these meals Michelle has witnessed the magic of community transcend those evenings changing the lives of the refugees and the lives of the guests who attend. She told me, "We have had multiple families sign up to mentor refugees. Often it is the teenage children who attend the meals who are the leaders in making sure their families become mentors, and encourage their family to sign up. A local business has donated percentages of their end of year profits to families they have met. Guests have invited families for play dates with their kids. Guests have hired the families to cater parties & work events because their food is so delicious and because they now have a personal relationship with the families and they want them to thrive."
I have been to three refugee dinners hosted by Michelle and each experience leaves me feeling more connected—not just to the families who have shared their stories and food, but to the possibility of what happens when we choose to see each other's humanity. These evenings remind me that wellness isn't just individual practice; it's about creating spaces where people can feel seen, valued, and nourished in every sense of the word.
This brings me back to my original struggle: Is it tone-deaf to share wellness when the world is not well? The more I think about it, the more I realize that it is my job. We can all share our gifts with the world in different ways. We can protest to stand up for those whose voices are not being heard. We can donate our money to causes doing important work. I can share my wellness strategies to help people stay well so that they can keep showing up as their best and healthiest selves. When I share a recipe that nourishes, a practice that grounds, or a perspective that heals, my hope is that I am offering something the world needs. I'm saying, "despite everything, I still believe in tending to life, growth, and wellness."
So here's my invitation to you (and to myself): Let's weave wellness and justice together. Let's share practices that help people stay strong for the long haul. Let's acknowledge the heaviness while offering tools for carrying it.
People are looking for ways to stay grounded while staying engaged, to heal themselves while helping others, to find hope while facing hard truths.
Your voice matters. Your practices matter. Your commitment to both inner work and outer change matters. This is how we build something beautiful in the midst of systems that are broken. One breath, one practice, one moment of active hope at a time.
If you are in Portland, OR, and want to be included at one of Michelle’s refugee dinners here is the information: Michelle Ruber, business website Shift Vacation Rentals (link to the dinner page) as well as instagram and facebook.
What practices are helping you stay grounded and engaged right now? I'd love to hear what's working for you in the comments below.