Staying Balanced When the World Feels Unsteady

It’s no secret that things have been heavy lately. Everywhere you look — newsfeeds, conversations at the grocery store, even casual chats with neighbors — there’s an undercurrent of worry, frustration, or just plain overwhelm.

Big events in our country (and the world) have a way of trickling down into our bodies and nervous systems, whether we’re consciously tuned into them or not. Maybe you’ve noticed your shoulders creeping up toward your ears, your sleep getting choppy, or that ever-present swirl of anxious energy in your chest.

First, let’s just say it: It’s completely human to feel off-balance right now. These aren’t ordinary times, so if you’re feeling unusually tender or on edge, you’re not alone — and you’re not broken.

Tiny anchors that help

While we can’t single-handedly fix the world overnight, we can come back to simple practices that keep us steady and resourced, so we’re better able to face whatever comes. Here are a few of my favorite small anchors when everything feels wobbly:

• Breathe low and slow.
  Try placing a hand on your belly and feeling it rise as you inhale, then gently soften as you exhale. Even two or three slow breaths can flip the switch from fight-or-flight to rest-and-digest.

• Limit your scroll time.
  It’s okay to be informed — but endless doomscrolling rarely helps. Try setting a small window to catch up on news, then close the tabs and come back to your own present life.
  If you need a hand with this, apps like Freedom, Forest, or your phone’s built-in tools like Apple Screen Time or Android Digital Wellbeing can help you set gentle limits. They’re not about shame — just about giving your mind a little room to breathe.

• Lean on warmth.
  In Chinese medicine, warmth helps move stagnation and soothe the body. A heating pad on your lower back, a cup of ginger tea, or a hot shower can do wonders to settle frazzled nerves.

• Move your body, gently.
  Whether it’s a few neck rolls, stretching like a cat in the morning, or a slow walk outside — motion helps energy flow so it doesn’t bottle up.

• Try a sound bath (or make your own).
  Even just lying down with a playlist of gentle singing bowls, chimes, or nature sounds can shift your whole body out of stress mode. In Chinese medicine, sound and vibration are also ways to move qi. Bonus tip: humming softly or chanting “OM” sends vibrations through the vagus nerve, helping your system relax from the inside out.

• Reach out.
  Stress loves isolation. Call a friend, share how you’re feeling, or come in for acupuncture. There’s something powerful about being witnessed and supported.

How acupuncture can help

When the world is tense, our bodies often respond by holding tension — in the jaw, shoulders, chest, or gut. Acupuncture (along with cupping, gentle bodywork, herbs, and breath coaching) helps unwind that tightness so your system can rest, repair, and build resilience.

It doesn’t make life’s problems disappear. But it can give you a steadier foundation, so you’re less reactive and more able to show up for yourself and the people you care about.

So wherever you find yourself — weary, worried, or just trying to stay steady — may you keep tending to your own small rituals, your breath, your body, your precious heart. And may these words be a quiet reminder to hold space for hope, no matter what the world brings.

I also wanted to leave you with this poem by Mary Oliver. It’s one of my favorites because it meets us exactly where we are — in our sorrow, confusion, or quiet despair — and gently reminds us that while we live through our tender struggles, the world keeps on going. The sun rises, the rain falls, and the wild geese keep calling us back to our place in the vast, living family of things. May you carry these words with you like a small lantern — to light the way when the world feels dim, to remind you that hope still breathes alongside your sorrow and fear.

Wild Geese
by Mary Oliver

You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees
for a hundred miles through the desert repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves.

Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.
Meanwhile the world goes on.
Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain
are moving across the landscapes,
over the prairies and the deep trees,
the mountains and the rivers.

Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,
are heading home again.

Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting —
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things.