When the World Feels Like Too Much: Why We Have to Create Joy on Purpose
There is so much happening in the world right now. War. Politics. Economic stress. Racism. Violence. Climate disasters. Grief layered on top of grief. And then on top of that? Our own personal heartbreak, family strain, health issues, work stress, financial pressure.
It is a lot.
And when it’s a lot for long enough, something inside of us shifts.
We go numb.
Not because we don’t care.
Not because we’re cold.
But because our nervous systems get tired of bracing.
When suffering feels constant, our minds stop looking for happiness and start looking for relief. When you’re deep in pain, you’re not chasing joy, you’re just hoping for a break in the suffering.
That makes sense.
But here’s the truth I’ve been sitting with lately:
Life will always contain suffering. That part is unavoidable.
What we can influence is whether we intentionally create moments that interrupt it.
Not erase it.
Not deny it.
Interrupt it.
Why We Go Numb (A Little Brain Science Moment 🧠)
Your brain is wired for survival. About every 4 seconds, it scans your environment asking:
Am I safe?
That’s the average brain.
Now layer trauma on top of that. Personal trauma, systemic oppression, or chronic stress. The world starts to look different. The scanning intensifies. Neutral situations feel threatening. The baseline becomes hypervigilance.
Your brain’s job is to look for danger so it can protect you.
It is not naturally wired to look for joy.
So in the middle of constant threat-scanning, positive moments can literally go unnoticed. If we don’t name them, savor them, and store them, our brains don’t consolidate those memories in the same way.
We miss them.
And over time, it can feel like they don’t exist at all.
Which is why we have to highlight them. On purpose.
The Breaks I Create in My Own Chaos
If I listed every community and activity I’m part of, we would be here all day. But structure and joy are not accidental in my life, they are intentional.
Here are some of the ways I interrupt my own internal and external chaos:
🚣🏾♀️ Rowing group I just joined — something about being on the water, moving in rhythm with other people, feeling strong in my body.
🎲 Bunco game night with women in my area. We met in random places (gyms, mutual friends, networking events) and just started inviting each other. Now we gather, roll dice, laugh loudly, and expand the circle by bringing more women into it.
🧠 Therapist networking events where colleagues have become real friends. Community with people who understand the weight of this work matters.
🏃🏾♀️ Run club + training for a marathon — long miles, shared struggle, collective grit.
🔥 Group fitness classes (a staple in my day-to-day life). Moving my body in a room full of people trying their best does something grounding for me.
🧗🏾♀️ Tried rock climbing (surprisingly fun).
🧘🏾♀️ Tried Pilates (humbling but powerful).
🌄 Tried hiking… and listen… if there’s an amazing view, I don’t want to be huffin and puffin through it. I want to sit in it. So hiking might never really be my thing. And that’s okay.
The point isn’t that you need to do all of this.
The point is that I refuse to let suffering be the only thing I experience.
These activities don’t erase systemic issues. They don’t fix grief. They don’t eliminate stress.
But they give me breaks.
And breaks matter.
If Community Feels Overwhelming Right Now
Sometimes being around people feels like too much. If your nervous system is already overloaded, adding more stimulation can feel exhausting.
Sitting alone in the sun at a garden
Walking along the beach
A slow walk around the block
Lying in the grass
Watching the sky change colors
Drinking your coffee outside instead of inside
Sometimes joy is quiet.
Sometimes it’s just your body feeling warm in sunlight.
Sometimes it’s being alone and not performing for anyone.
That counts.
Communities You Might Consider Joining
If you’re looking for structured joy, here are some ideas:
Local run clubs
Rowing or paddling teams
Recreational sports leagues
Book clubs
Game nights (Bunco, trivia, board games)
Group fitness classes
Dance classes
Art collectives or pottery studios
Volunteer groups
Faith or spiritual communities
Professional networking groups
Community gardens
Writing groups
Hiking clubs (if you’re into that 😉)
Rock climbing gyms
Language exchange meetups
You don’t have to find your forever group immediately. Try things. Be awkward. Decide what fits.
Joy is sometimes experimental.
Friends I met at my gym 🫶
Coping Skills That Actually Feel Good
We often think coping skills have to be serious or clinical. They don’t.
Coping can look like:
Accumulating positive experiences (intentionally planning things to look forward to)
Deep belly laughter
Long hugs (there is actual nervous system regulation in warm physical contact)
Music that makes your body move
Cold water on your face
Warm showers
Journaling your “3 good things” daily
Naming one moment of safety before bed
Movement that makes your muscles burn in a satisfying way
Creating something with your hands
Structured routine
Rest without guilt
In this moment, I am safe. And that matters.
Why Naming the Good Matters
If the brain is constantly scanning for danger, and we never intentionally highlight positive moments, the danger narrative wins.
The brain strengthens what it rehearses.
If we rehearse fear, it gets louder.
If we rehearse joy, it becomes more accessible.
That doesn’t mean bypassing pain. It means balancing it.
We need things that provide breaks in the suffering.
Happiness Is Sometimes Something We Create
Sometimes happiness falls into our lap.
But we have to build it.
We accumulate positive experiences.
We schedule connection.
We show up to the run club even when we don’t feel like it.
We host the Bunco night.
We try rock climbing once.
We sit in the sun.
We let ourselves rest in the view instead of racing through it.
If this resonates, you might also appreciate my previous post on behavioral activation, which is an evidence-based practice rooted in intentionally increasing meaningful activity to improve mood. It’s deeply connected to what I’m talking about here. Taking action even when motivation is low and allowing behavior to help shift emotion.
The world is heavy right now.
Your life might be heavy right now.
If you’re in a deep space of suffering, I see you. But I also want you to have breaks. Even small ones. Even quiet ones. Especially intentional ones.
What is one thing (one tiny thing) you could add this week that might interrupt the suffering, even for a moment?
Comments
Post a Comment