How much should we self-care in broken times?

Or, does any of my work still matter?

A few months ago I wrote something, one of my more popular pieces here on Substack:

Turning away from the news

The title was deliberately provocative because the piece wasn’t about disengaging from the news completely, but instead about developing healthy boundaries around news consumption in order not to seize up in despair and terror at the state of the world.

I have realised that so much in my life is about trying to find balance, a middle place between two extremes where the truth often appears to lie. It’s expressed in the way I increasingly shy away from evangelists of all stripes, extreme exercise regimes or major benders. Moderation tends to work for me, and also I’m afraid that sometimes I am so comfortable sitting on the fence, attempting equal understanding of all viewpoints and asking so many questions that I end up saying nothing of any meaning at all.

When I had a month entirely off news sites and (mostly) off social media recently, I have to say I felt very content. Very peaceful, undisturbed. Life felt lovely and simple again, like it did in the 90s. I picked up my meditation habit again, and rediscovered the sense of expansiveness and aliveness the practice offers. As I meditated more, my anxiety receded - surprise! - this is what happens when we really sit with our feelings.

I can see why people want to stay in pristine places. I also realised that disengaging entirely with the multiple crises here on earth was not going to work for me, not in terms of the path that feels true for me. I want to find that middle place, one that isn’t being swallowed up and rendered useless by bad news or dire outlooks but one that can face and reference the times we’re in with wisdom and courage.

Something unexpected happened as I began to feel less anxious about things in my own life - I found an urge to engage with real-talk about the state of the world, namely by starting to read

Sarah Wilson

’s book on collapse, serialised here on Substack. I think I’d also reached a point in motherhood - my youngest aged four, a feeling of being out of the trenches - where I felt ready to engage with a lot of things I’d been putting off.

But then when you begin to face difficult truths about the wider world, it can feel tricky to also have to keep attending to the everyday, to keep living in your own life. The experience of reading about climate breakdown or the extermination of a whole population is interrupted by something that feels superficial or jarring in comparison. We see an image of someone by a pool on holiday, eating a lovely meal or creating a beautiful interior in their home; we get asked on a local what’s app group if anyone knows a fancy restaurant or spa or shop where they can buy their child a costume for World Book Day. It all feels … ridiculous, and yet we must all live in this world too, are often active participants in it.

Rosie Spinks

wrote about the “here” and “there” in her article How I Became Collapse Aware and how it can feel increasingly discombobulating to navigate between what Joanna Macy calls the business-as-usual world and one in which we have reached more acceptance and understanding of the multiple crises the world is facing.

Starting to engage with the way multiple systems - ecological, financial, political, societal - are beginning to topple around us initially made me wonder if I needed to stop doing everything I was doing and pursue some other radical path. My work (as a doula, yoga teacher and group facilitator) undoubtedly helps people who can afford to pay, but is it “enough”? I was trying to work all this out in my head when I saw this post on Instagram from brilliant coach Keri Jarvis, shared here with her permission:

My work is necessary, it’s useful, and it’s insufficient. Because there is no reaction we could have, as individuals, that could match the horror of particular current moments, or the enormity of the task ahead of building a better world.

And right now, I feel overwhelmed by the question of where I should be putting my energy, not just in my work but with my time, with the things I choose to read and the conversations I have. I feel like I’ve recognised the insufficiency of any response but I’m feeling deeply uncomfortable in the reality of it. I find myself triggered by others who seem to be oblivious or avoidant, and I know when I feel triggered that something is underneath the sense of frustration and blame.

Usually fear (of what the future might look like for my children and for all of us). Uncertainty. Grief for what has been lost (species, certainty, the assumption of a safe and sustainable future) and what is still to be lost.

On the Celtic wheel, the crisis point is winter. Chaos and fear and deaths of old realities and not knowing, yet, which direction we must move towards to get out of the woods.

When I remembered this, I felt better. I am not supposed to know (yet). The collective we, we don’t know (yet). The etymology of crisis: from the Greek verb "krinein" (κρίνω), which means "to distinguish, choose, decide, or judge”. In a crisis, a decision must eventually be made. In Latin, the meaning is a critical stage or turning point.

Perhaps we’re at this transition point without the knowledge of what’s on the other side of it. I have many doubts and questions about both my individual capacity and willingness to “meet the moment” and our collective one. What am I/are we capable of? Am I/are we all talk and no walk? What if I/we tire and can’t do it any more? What if I/we get bored and don’t want to do it anymore? What about my/our hypocrisy (we are all, to greater and lesser extents, hypocrites)? Would I/we be willing to give up some of my own comfort to readdress the balance; how much? Do I/we really want to be different; can I commit to it or do I just like the idea of being a better person?

Despite the fear and uncertainty ahead, I notice that more people are talking about difficult things, working to accept them, that there’s a shift away from a more individualist self-help agenda to community care and what it would look like to grow together. I sense a re-alignment going on, whispers of Joanna Macy’s Great Turning.

There are many more questions than answers, but one thing is clear - excessive masculine strivings and greed have broken the earth. We need more gentle warriors. We can’t do any worse than them, right?

I would love to hear where you’re at with all of this and what this has brought up for you. I thought it might be useful to put some questions here to guide any journalling or discussion in the comments, but also please feel free just to comment freely - I would love to hear your thoughts. I’ve also put a few resources I’ve found hugely useful at the bottom of the post, but I’d love to hear yours’.

• Do you engage in content about current global realities or our uncertain future, or does it feel too much? How do you balance it with also needing to live your daily life?

• Do you feel that your work is necessary but insufficient? Are you feeling called to redistribute your energy and brilliance a little? What might that look like?

• What about stepping up - how would that look? Can we inspire each other? Might we be more ready than we suspect?

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I can’t wait to read your responses to these thoughts and chat about it here. Thank you so much for reading,

Chloe x

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Useful resources

Joanna Macy’s Active Hope

Adrienne Maree Brown’s Emergent Strategy

Keri Jarvis

Sarah Wilson’s Substack