Lately, I’ve been sitting with something that’s been showing up more and more—on social media, in conversations, and even in my own inner dialogue. It’s a feeling of overwhelm, of tension, of things unraveling. People I care about are expressing fear, frustration, and deep concern about the state of the world. There’s political division, economic uncertainty, environmental anxiety, and a general sense that something’s going terribly wrong.
And I get it. It’s a lot.
When you scroll through your feed or turn on the news, it seems like the world is teetering on the edge of disaster. Prices are high. Trust is low. People are angry, afraid, and sure that the “other side” is ruining everything.
But underneath all of that noise, I started to see something that stopped me in my tracks. And I want to offer it to you—not as a solution or a “take,” but simply as a thought experiment. A gentle nudge in a different direction.
What if you paused for just a moment—right now—and looked at your actual life? Not the stories in your head, not the headlines, not the predictions or projections, but the reality of your experience in this moment.
Are you okay?
Do you have a roof over your head?
Food in the fridge?
Running water?
Clothes to wear?
People to call if you need support?
Are you safe in your body, in this exact moment?
Are you breathing?
Is there a quiet hum of aliveness underneath the noise?
For most of us, the answer to those questions is yes. And not just “yes”—but yes with abundance.
We are living in an era of extraordinary comfort. We have access to instant communication, indoor plumbing, climate control, entertainment, transportation, education, and medical care that kings and queens of the past could not have dreamed of. Most of us are living lives that are safer, healthier, and more resourced than 99.9999% of the human beings who have ever walked this planet.
And yet, we don’t feel that way. Why?
Because we’ve forgotten where our feelings come from.
We think we’re feeling the economy, the government, the state of society. But we’re actually feeling our thinking about those things. Thought creates the movie, and then we sit in the theater and react to it as if it’s real. We feel fear and call it “the future.” We feel anger and call it “the other side.” We feel lack and call it “inflation.”
The human mind has an extraordinary ability to make hell for itself and others—all through this outside-in misunderstanding.
But here’s the thing: the moment we wake up to the fact that the storm is in our minds, not in the world, something profound happens. We fall back into the present moment. Into reality. And reality, more often than not, is shockingly okay.
We stop arguing with what is.
We stop needing the world to change in order for us to feel peace.
We start to feel grateful.
And that changes everything.
This isn’t about ignoring problems or pretending the world is perfect. It’s about reclaiming your own clarity. It’s about seeing through the illusion that your wellbeing depends on the news cycle. It’s about remembering that peace is an inside job—and that you already have everything you need to feel it, right now.
So here’s my invitation:
Before you scroll again… pause.
Look around.
Notice what’s actually here.
See how good you really have it.
Let that truth land.
Just for a moment, come home to the space underneath the noise.
And from that space, if you do choose to engage with the world, you’ll do it from wisdom, not reactivity. From love, not fear. From groundedness, not panic.
You don’t have to fix everything.
You don’t have to save the world.
You just have to remember where your experience is coming from.
You’re already okay.
And maybe… just maybe… the world is too.
With love,
Eric