How Global Trauma Embeds in Our Nervous Systems
How to Stay Balanced in an Unsteady World
I don’t know about you, but I can’t keep up with the breaking news alerts at the moment. Every time I think I’ve absorbed one story, another arrives. A mass shooting, another report from a war zone, images of starvation or political decisions that feel unsettling or outright unfair. Legal battles that quietly expose how uneven the ground really is, such as the recent multi-billion dollar lawsuit involving Trump and the BBC and questions about who holds power and who carries the cost.
All of this is landing, whilst people across the world are also lighting candles and gathering with family and marking moments of meaning. Christmas, Hanukkah, Bodhi Day which honours the Buddha’s awakening, all in early December. In addition, Yule and the Winter Solstice which many earth-based traditions mark as a turning point from darkness toward light. Also Kwanzaa at the end of December which centres African heritage community and shared values. For others Eid has recently passed or is remembered and preparations for future festivals are already quietly underway. It is a time that celebrates generosity, shared meals, prayer and care for those who are less resourced, with an emphasis on community, gratitude, and renewal after a period of reflection and restraint.
There is something profoundly human about this overlap. Suffering and celebration happening side by side. Grief and gratitude sharing the same season. That tension is uncomfortable but it is how life often meets us.
The Hidden Cost of Empathy in a Connected World
Most people I speak to, are not detached from what is happening. They care deeply. They feel sorrow, anger, disbelief and helplessness. What often catches us out is not the feeling itself but the volume and the constancy; a heavy backdrop to everything else that is happening in our inner and outer worlds.
Empathy was never designed to operate without pause. Our nervous systems evolved to track threat and safety in small groups in familiar landscapes. Now, we are exposed to global trauma daily, often before we’ve even had a cup of tea.
When empathy is stretched too far without space to process or act, it doesn’t expand endlessly. It floods or it shuts down. Over time, this can look like numbness, irritability, cynicism or a quiet pulling away from things that once mattered. It is not a lack of care, but a nervous system trying to protect itself from overload, when feeling deeply is no longer matched by the ability to make meaning, respond, or rest.
This is what empathy overload looks like. Exhaustion that sleep doesn’t quite touch. Irritability that surprises us. A sense of numbness that feels worrying. Guilt when joy appears. Shame when we need to look away.
None of this means we have stopped caring. It means the system is saturated.
When the World Moves Into the Body
Even when events are far away, the nervous system doesn’t experience them as abstract. Repeated exposure to distressing images and stories, activates the same physiological responses as direct threat.
Breathing becomes shallower. Muscles hold tension. The heart rate shifts. Sleep becomes lighter. Thoughts circle. The body prepares for action but there is nowhere to go and nothing concrete to do.
Over time, this creates a background state of alertness that is deeply tiring. People describe feeling constantly on edge unable to fully relax even when things are calm at home. Small stresses feel bigger. Patience thins. Joy feels fragile or fleeting.
This is not a personal failing. It is a biological response to sustained uncertainty and exposure.
Celebration Is Not Denial
This is where the festive season can feel particularly complex. How do we celebrate when we know what is happening elsewhere? How do we sit at a table when the world feels unfair, violent and divided?
Some people respond by dampening celebration altogether. I must say that I tend to do this. Feeling the weight of others’ despair whilst organising Christmas, I find tough. I often want to avoid celebration or indulgence altogether. Others may push themselves into cheerfulness that doesn’t feel real to them or others around them. It can feel crunchy or wrong somehow. Conversations at gatherings can also quickly slide into despair conflict or silence.
I have come to think that, what is sometimes missed is this: Celebration is not denial. It is regulation. My son put it perfectly the other day in response to me saying that Christmas is all over done. He said “that’s right, get rid of the mid-winter celebrations that help people have fun and let go”. In his teenage wisdom, I think he is right.
Across cultures, ritual has always helped humans survive difficult times. Light in the darkness. Shared food. Music. Storytelling. Rest. These are not luxuries. They tell the nervous system that safety still exists somewhere. a tribal nourishment and a place to belong. Perhaps, this is why it feels hard to do, when communities have been ripped apart and affected by pain, suffering and loss.
However, lighting a candle at Hanukkah. Marking the return of light at the Solstice. Sharing food during Christmas or Kwanzaa. Sitting quietly on Bodhi Day. These moments help the body remember balance and understand how important it is to keep family, community and love central to our every day.
When We Start to Disagree
Another layer of strain appears, when people around us don’t see things the way we do. Perhaps we have begun to reflect more deeply. We have changed how we engage with news. We have softened or sharpened our views. We have reached a fragile sense of balance.
Then we sit down with someone who feels angry or dismissive or adamant that we are wrong.
This can be unsettling. When our nervous systems are already stretched, disagreement can feel like threat. The body reacts before the mind has time to catch up. After all, we were doing our bit for consiousness in the way we knew how.
What often happens next is escalation or shutdown. We argue harder. We retreat. We try to convince. We feel misunderstood. All adding to the negativity.
It can help to remember that disagreement is not the same as danger. Another person’s certainty does not undo the care you are taking with your own understanding. You do not have to rush to resolve, explain or defend. You are allowed to move at the pace your nervous system can manage. You are allowed to choose connection over correction, especially in spaces that are meant for rest, safety and relationship rather than debate.
Different Histories, Different Nervous Systems
Let’s also remember that Global trauma does not land equally. Culture, history, identity and lived experience shape how events are felt in the body. What feels distant to one person may feel deeply personal to another.
Making space for this difference matters. Listening without persuading. Allowing disagreement without disconnection. Holding multiple realities in the same room. These are quietly regulating acts.
We don’t have to agree to stay human with one another.
Balance Lives Between Extremes
Balance is not about choosing light over dark or optimism over grief. It emerges when opposites are allowed to exist in relationship.
Too much exposure to suffering pulls us toward despair. Too much forced positivity pushes pain underground. When things lean too far in either direction, something in us naturally searches for its counterweight. If we are pushed to stay upbeat, grateful or hopeful at all costs, the rebound can look like over-indulgence, impulsive choices, emotional numbing or a sudden collapse into “f*ck it.” It might show up as eating, drinking, scrolling, spending or withdrawing in ways that feel out of character. These are not failures of discipline or attitude, but a system pressing the reset button when balance has been lost.
On the flip side, when we stay too close to suffering for too long, especially through constant exposure to news, images, and commentary, the pull can go in the opposite direction. Instead of switching off, we tighten up. We scan, brace ourselves and carry a sense of responsibility that was never meant to sit on one nervous system alone. The body stays alert, joy feels fragile or undeserved and rest can start to feel irresponsible. This is not resilience. It is empathy without boundaries, where care slowly turns into exhaustion.
This is why beauty, humour, ritual and warmth, feel especially important during times of crisis. Not because they erase suffering but because they restore equilibrium.
Light and shadow define each other.
Staying With the World Gently
When we allow light alongside darkness and when celebration and sorrow are permitted to share the same season, balance can begin to return. Not because the world has suddenly become safe or fair, but because we have stopped asking ourselves to live at one extreme.
Staying balanced in an unsteady world is not about being untouched. It is about knowing how to come back to centre again and again.
Not avoidance, but wisdom.
Practical Ways to Support Your Nervous System
Some realistic ways to stay grounded right now:
Turn off breaking news alerts - at least for a while
Choose specific times to check the news rather than absorbing it all day
Notice when your body is bracing and offer movement warmth or slower breathing
Let celebrations be sensory rather than performative - experience versus show
Name grief briefly then return attention to what is present
Set gentle boundaries around heavy topics at gatherings
Remember that joy does not need justification
Focus on what you can influence even in small ways
Allow children and younger people to experience safety, play and celebration
Think of this as tending a garden. Some things need attention. Some things need composting. Nothing thrives when it is exposed all the time.
stepping-out.life
steppingout.life@gmail.com
