Holding the World Gently, Without Breaking Your Own Heart

There’s a quiet ache many of us are carrying these days—one we barely notice until we catch ourselves holding our breath again, or realize we haven’t really exhaled all day.

It hums beneath the surface each time we open our phones. That subtle tension, that weight in our chest. It’s the ache of being asked to feel everything, all the time, without pause.

Every scroll urges us to grieve, to rage, to care—urgently, endlessly—about things we often cannot fix. It’s a steady stream of heartbreak and injustice that doesn’t stop. And while we’ve been taught this is what awareness looks like, at some point it stopped being empowering and started feeling like too much.

What we’re experiencing isn’t just information overload. It’s emotional overload.

We live in a world that constantly pulls at our empathy, turning our attention, our outrage, and even our heartbreak into currency. The more reactive we are, the more valuable we become—to algorithms, to advertisers, to systems that feed on our despair.

But here’s the truth: We’re not built for this.

Our nervous systems are ancient. They were designed for presence, for connection—not for processing global grief before our first sip of tea in the morning.

You might think you’re “just staying informed.” But behind the scenes, every post that makes your heart race is a data point: this keeps her scrolling. So the cycle continues. More grief. More urgency. More helplessness. And you stay caught, not because you don’t care—but because you care so deeply.

Of course you care.
You were never meant to look away from suffering.
But you were also never meant to carry it all.

Not without pause.
Not without grounding.
Not without space to ask yourself: Is this mine to hold?

This isn’t about detaching or turning away.
It’s about protecting your heart, so it can remain open and strong—without burning out.

Because the danger isn’t that you’ll stop caring.
It’s that your care will become so thin, so stretched across too many screens, that it loses its depth. And in that disorientation, we start to forget what really matters.

So if you’ve felt heavy lately, if your compassion feels more like a burden than a gift…
You’re not broken.
You’re simply exhausted from being extracted.

That feeling—that quiet depletion—is a signal.
To pause.
To ground.
To return to your center.

The world doesn’t need more exhausted hearts collapsing under the weight of everything.
It needs rooted ones.
Present ones.
Hearts with discernment. Hearts that can tell what truly matters and what can be gently released.

You are allowed to log off.
You are allowed to rest.
You are allowed to care more wisely, not more constantly.

This is not abandonment.
It’s conservation.
Of your energy, your spirit, and your humanity.

And that might just be the most radical act of care you have left.

How could this look in your everyday life?
Here are some gentle ways to return to yourself—with clarity, calm, and care:

1. Set conscious boundaries
Create intentional moments to check in with the world—and moments to step away. You’re not required to respond to every crisis the moment it arises. Places and People will affect your own energy field, choose carefully.

2. Respond with intention
Pause. Breathe. Ask yourself: Is this truly mine to carry? Is this calling me to meaningful action—or simply pulling me off center?

3. Protect your mornings
Let your day begin in your own rhythm. Step into sunlight. Light a candle. Sit in stillness. Give your nervous system a chance to settle before the outside world floods in.

4. Stay close to what matters
Deep presence with those nearby is its own kind of activism. Intimacy, attention, and love are powerful forms of care. Surround yourself with people who make you feel comfortable and nourished.

5. Let silence hold you
You don’t have to prove your compassion by posting it. Your care is valid, even when it’s quiet. Your heart is sacred—not a performance piece.

6. Click below to enjoy a calming meditation I just recorded for you.

If your heart is craving space to breathe…
If your body is asking for stillness…
If you’re ready to practice caring without collapsing—in community, in nature, in deep presence—
I’d love to welcome you to one of my upcoming retreats.

These gatherings are gentle, sacred spaces to return to yourself. To rest your nervous system. To reclaim your energy. To reconnect with what truly matters.

You don’t have to carry it all.
Let’s practice letting go—together.

✨  Explore my upcoming retreats  2025/26:

Mallorca, Spain

September 6-12 Release to Receive

September 28 – October 4th Yoga & Hang Music Retreat

Berglodge 37, Switzerland

September 23 – 26,   Cocoon Retreat 

Osa Peninsula, Costa Rica

Jan 31- Feb 6, Into The Wild