When the World Feels Heavy: Taking Action that Nourishes Us and Others

Lately, it can feel like the weight of the world is pressing down on us. Every time we open our phones, we’re reminded of another crisis, another heartbreak, another thing too big to solve alone. It’s no wonder so many of us find ourselves overwhelmed—doom-scrolling, numbing, or distracting ourselves because it all just feels like too much.

But here’s the thing: when we disconnect, we also disconnect from one of our most basic human needs.

As parents, we instinctively understand this with our children. We pay attention to their core needs: safety, belonging, rest, play, autonomy, love. We try to notice when they’re hungry, when they’re overwhelmed, when they need to be held. And we step in to meet those needs—not perfectly, but with intention.

What we often forget is that those same needs live in us too. One of those needs is contribution. We are wired to matter to each other. To be part of something larger than ourselves. When we take action—no matter how small—we meet our need for meaning, community, and connection.

Our culture often tells us, “fill your own cup first.” But in many other traditions, that idea is flipped. In filling someone else’s cup, our own cup is filled too. Contribution and care are not one-way transactions; they are deeply reciprocal.

So what does this look like in a world that feels so heavy?
It doesn’t mean single-handedly fixing the climate crisis or ending systemic oppression tomorrow. It means remembering that your actions—your voice, your presence, your care—matter. It could be making a meal for a neighbor, calling your representatives, donating to an organization, showing up at a local event, or simply being a steady presence for your kids when the world feels shaky.

I just wrapped up a short course by Simone Seol, and she shared a truth that stopped me in my tracks:

“When we abandon hope, we also abandon the people who need us to keep believing that change is possible. We leave our descendants a world where fewer people are working toward transformation because we decided it was too hard.”

Our children, our neighbors, our families need us to keep hoping. And to be clear, hope is not about pretending everything is fine. It’s not a passive stance, but active motion toward a vision we hold for the future. Hope is about choosing to keep going. It’s about doing the small, imperfect things that ripple outward. It’s about contributing in ways that remind us we are not powerless, and that our presence matters.

When the world feels overwhelming, ask yourself: What small act of contribution can I offer today? Not because it fixes everything, but because it fills both your cup and someone else’s. Because it reminds you that you are part of a web of care. Because your kids are watching, learning what it looks like to respond to heaviness with action, with community, with love.

In the end, taking action—even tiny action—becomes a practice of self-care and community care at once. It’s how we hold onto hope.

And if you are looking for community around taking small imperfect action, I just started the Commerce City chapter of the organization Indivisible. If you are in or around Commerce City and would like to join me in building community, send me an email! Either at chrissy@courageousparents.com, or at indivisiblecommercecity.com. You can also look online to find your local Indivisible chapter.