Tending the Nervous System as the World Melts Down
How I'm Managing My Anxiety in the Midst of Political Turmoil

This is the second in a series of posts about the practices that are sustaining me during our political and social upheaval. Last week, I wrote about the lessons I learned about joy and survival in the midst of cancer.
I have a confession: I have spent much of my life feeling unsafe in the world. It’s not something that people expect of me. I don’t exude an aura of fear. In fact, I routinely do things that seem to be the opposite of it. I’m an introvert who feels awkward in one-on-one conversations but who’s perfectly at ease speaking before a crowd of thousands. I am a swimmer who is afraid of water, a frequent traveler who is uncomfortable in unfamiliar places, a wannabe gardener who is afraid of all manner of outdoor creatures. I slept with nightlights until the age of 36, when becoming a parent forced me to learn to operate in darkness (because waking up a newborn/toddler is far scarier). I don’t like being in crowds and I don’t like being in places that are too isolated.
I can think of any number of reasons why I’m like this: being born into southern African American families who had to learn to quickly discern whether unfamiliar environments were safe for us or not; living in Atlanta during the Atlanta Child Murders, when one of the murdered children was found not too far from my grandparents’ neighborhood; staying home alone overnight with my younger brother from the age of ten because my mother worked nights. My mother drilled fear of the outside world into me in order to make sure that I came home safe from school, that I stayed inside while she was away. The lesson settled deep into my cells: the world is not safe.
Most of the time, I am able to keep my anxiety in the subclinical range. With the right trigger, though, it flares up, requiring therapy and occasionally medication. Since the November election, I have been working overtime to keep it under control, even as the-world-is-not-safe screams at me from each day’s headlines. In the first few months, I frequently found myself rapidly oscillating between fight and flight, meeting with activist groups, attending town halls, and researching expatriation options. Some days my nervous system is better equipped to stand our collective ground and resist. Other days, I am obsessed with escape. Regulating my nervous system has become as important as staying informed. I cannot do one without the other.
Self-Care Is More Important than Ever
The main way that I regulate my nervous system is self-care. If you’ve followed me for a while or you’ve read Sacred Self-Care, you know that I’m not talking about shopping sprees or vacations or spa days (although there’s some of that, too). For me, self-care means starting my days with meditation or yoga, exercising, staying hydrated, eating well, getting good sleep, and spending time outside (when Georgia pollen isn’t trying to take me out).
Self-care also means making wise decisions about my media intake. I’ve removed most social media apps from my phone to limit doomscrolling. I check the news once or twice daily. I especially appreciate The Vox’s newsletter, The Logoff, which summarizes the major happenings in the GOP administration each weekday. I also follow a few journalists and political analysts who are good at balancing clear-eyed objectivity with strategic hope, such as Robert Reich, Scott Dworkin, and Keith Boykin. I also listen to Native Land Pod with Angela Rye, Tiffany Cross, and Andrew Gillum.
Self-care is more important now than ever. When we neglect our own care, it adds even more wear and tear upon already fragile nervous systems. It decreases our cognitive flexibility and compassion for ourselves and other people. It makes us prone to frustration, anxiety, and hopelessness. It makes it hard to believe in the possibility of better, which leads us to despair.
Do Something
The activation of our sympathetic nervous system gives us a lot of “do something” energy. That energy can drive us into fight-or-flight, but we can also channel it in other ways. One way is to engage in acts of resistance against the fascism and authoritarianism of this administration. Resistance can come through participating in marches and demonstrations, as it did for millions of Americans on April 5. It could involve boycotting companies that are complicit, patronizing small and minority-owned businesses, or giving mutual aid to people in Gaza or to activists in financial need.
One thing that we all need to be doing is contacting our government representatives on a regular basis. I love the 5 Calls app for this. In it, you can find an explanation of pressing issues and legislation, along with the contact information of your congressional representative and state senators. It even provides a script that you can use when making your calls. Generally, these calls take only 2 or 3 minutes each, but they add up. And they are important regardless of whether your reps are Democrats or Republicans, whether you voted for them or not. A few weeks ago, I saw a video where Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez explained that conservatives call their reps far more often than liberals, giving politicians a skewed view of the beliefs of their constituents. They need to know how you feel, even if what you plan to say is, “Keep up the good work.”
Doing something could also be nonpolitical. Sometimes the mundane acts of doing the laundry, cooking meals, cleaning the house, and doing carpool can keep us grounded. I’m also leaning into doing more in the form of play and creativity. I’m reorganizing my home workspace so that it’s more conducive to both writing and crafting. I’m working on a few craft projects and I’m about to start my next Lego kit (it’s the typewriter!).
Nurture Connection
Our nervous systems were designed to operate in tandem with one another. We have long known this about babies and children. They depend upon caring adults to help soothe them when they are upset. Now researchers are learning that we need co-regulation throughout our entire lives. We benefit from the presence, touch, and attention of people who are grounded when we are feeling anchorless.
As a psychologist, pastoral caregiver, professor, mother, wife, eldest daughter, and firstborn grandchild, I often fulfill other people’s needs for co-regulation. I provide the calm, reassurance, and hope that they need. But even co-regulators need co-regulation, especially in times of turmoil. Since January, I have been making it a priority to spend time with people whose company I enjoy every week, sharing meals, going on walks, and meditating together. I’ve participated in activist communities and attended social events. Every occasion is a reminder that I am not alone; that we are in this together.
That, above all, is how we get through this – together.
Does this post resonate with you? Be sure to like, share, and leave a comment.
Come Meditate with Me
Speaking of together, this spring I’m offering the Mindfulness-Based Stress Reduction (MBSR) program. Meditation has been the cornerstone of my self-care for over 20 years. Since I took my first MBSR course in 2017, I’ve had the chance to meditate with people all over the world, from a wide range of national, ethnic, educational, and religious backgrounds. Great for meditation novices and experienced practitioners, this program helps people manage stress, anxiety, and chronic health issues. The course will meet virtually on Wednesday evenings from 6-8:30pm eastern, beginning on April 30. For more information and to register, click below.
I've noticed how increasingly hard it has become to regulate my nervous system. Self-isolation is my usual go-to, but it is self-defeating in the end. Thank you for the insights and practices!
Self care has not been one of my strengths. It has been a fascinating personal process to curtail social media and news feeds. On one hand, social media gave me a sense belonging as I watched how other people lived. And the other hand threw a curve ball right at my face and said "you are watching other peoples lives and what are you doing with your own?" I am sitting here reading the real fear of people in these unstable times and acknowledging how this instability evolved. I am writing to protest, to comfort, to inspire, to nurture, to connect with real people.