The world's gone mad.

3 Mar

I took the puppies out earlier.

Sunshine. Actual, proper sunshine. The kind that makes you squint and forgive the British weather for at least twenty minutes.

They were completely unbothered by the state of the world.

No awareness of politics.

No scrolling.

No existential dread.

Just grass. Smells. A stick that absolutely had to be carried at full speed for no clear reason.

And I stood there watching them, thinking about how many conversations I’ve had recently that begin with:

“Everything feels mad.”

“It’s all too much.”

“I don’t know what’s going to happen.”

“I can’t switch off.”

Yes. It is crazy out there.

War. Cost of living. Climate anxiety. Political division. Social media shouting matches. Constant access to distressing news 24/7. Our nervous systems were not designed to process global catastrophe before breakfast.

Your brain evolved to track threats in your immediate environment, rustling bushes, tribal conflict, food scarcity. Now it’s trying to metabolise global instability from a glowing rectangle in your hand while you’re also replying to emails and remembering to defrost chicken.

Of course people feel on edge.

This doesn’t mean you’re weak.

It means you’re wired.

But here’s where the sunshine and the puppies come in.

There’s a concept in psychology called the “circle of control.” It’s simple, but powerful.

Inside the circle:

Your actions.

Your boundaries.

Your responses.

Your routines.

Your care for your own nervous system.

Outside the circle:

Global politics.

Stock markets.

Other people’s behaviour.

The weather.

The internet’s latest outrage.

When we spend too much time mentally wrestling with what’s outside our circle, our anxiety ramps up. Because the brain hates unsolved problems, and these are unsolvable at an individual level.

Standing in that sunshine, I realised something again.

The puppies were firmly inside their circle.

Warmth.

Movement.

Connection.

Curiosity.

That doesn’t mean we ignore reality. It means we balance awareness with regulation.

A few gentle strategies I share with clients when the world feels overwhelming:

Limit your intake. You are allowed to be informed without being saturated. Choose when and how you consume news. Not first thing. Not last thing. Your nervous system deserves bookends of safety.

Name what is yours. Literally say, “This is outside my control.” It sounds simple. It works because it helps your brain categorise the threat.

Ground physically. Sunshine. Fresh air. Cold water on your wrists. Walking the dog. Moving your body. The nervous system resets through the body, not through overthinking.

Create micro-stability. Small daily anchors: morning coffee ritual, evening walk, a playlist, lighting a candle. Predictability calms the brain when the world feels unpredictable.

Look up. I mean that quite literally. When we’re anxious, our posture folds in and our gaze drops to screens. Lift your eyes. Take in the sky. Your brain reads open space as safety.

And maybe most importantly, connect. Anxiety thrives in isolation. Talk about what’s coming up for you. You don’t have to carry global fear alone.

It is wild out there.

But you are allowed to experience warmth.

You are allowed to laugh at your dog being ridiculous.

You are allowed to rest.

You are allowed to focus on your circle.

Standing there in the sunshine today, I thought: this is resistance too.

Regulating your nervous system in chaotic times isn’t avoidance.

It’s strength.

It’s sustainability.

It’s how we stay steady enough to show up well in the parts of the world we can influence.

The world may be spinning.