How could they see that and not get outraged?
How could they see that and not feel so sad?
I used to think that if I didn’t react — if I didn’t get upset, didn’t worry myself sick — it would mean I didn’t care (enough)… that I was cold… indifferent… unmoved by the suffering of others.
But I’ve always known: I do care!
So I showed my compassion the way I was conditioned: getting worked up, staying (over) informed, letting it get under my skin and into my bowels — until I was bloody and leaky inside.
It cost me. Nearly cost me my life.
This belief was killing my own sense of well-being — physically, emotionally, even spiritually. I was watching so much suffering. I believed I had to. The despair, rage, and worry I lived were Proof of Compassion. The never-ending headaches and bowel disease were just my burden to bear.
My willingness to suffer made me a good human, right? Right?!?
But something in me began to crack open.
I started seeing the pattern. This loop of: Awareness → Outrage → Awareness → Worry → Awareness → Grief… and none of it was actually helping me live better, or love better, or help anyone. It just drained me out.
And I realized: I was caught in a machine.
There are people — companies, whole systems — whose profits depend on keeping us emotionally activated.
They don’t care if we’re thriving. They care if we’re hooked.
And I was. I was feeding it my attention, my energy… my digestion even. I’d sit down to eat and flip on the news, and my nervous system would go into full alert — fight, flight, freeze — all while trying to chew. You can’t digest when you’re bracing for the world to fall apart.
But here’s the turning point.
I started remembering the tribe. Not the abstract “global village” we throw around now — I mean the real, ancient kind. The one where, if someone got hurt, others reacted. They didn’t sit there detached. They got your water. They brought you meat. That kind of care was functional, relational, and vital. It helped us all survive.
But today? That same empathy response gets weaponized.
Because now we’re not in a small tribe. We’re in an internet-connected globe of trauma stories, each one begging for attention. And my brain — my sweet, primitive brain — didn’t evolve to handle all that. It still asserts: If I’m aware of it, I have to adapt to it. I have to act.
But I don’t.
Love you, primitive brain. But no. That’s not true anymore.
So I started practicing something that felt almost rebellious: Awareness without Adaptation.
I see the reality. I accept that it’s real for someone. And then I ask: Is this mine to adapt to… to act on?
And most of the time, it isn’t.
That was the skill I needed. A real skill. A hard skill. Acceptance.
And don’t get it twisted — acceptance isn’t approval. It’s just being honest: this is happening. Somewhere. It’s part of the human condition today. And I accept that. I don’t resist it, and I don’t bleed out trying to fix it all.
What do I do instead?
One practice is being a bit more welcoming to those actively near me.
When someone I care about comes home, I greet them. When I pass a stranger on the trail, I nod a little more fully. I smile. When my daughter wants to blow dandelion seeds and make wishes, I stop and do that with her. We scatter wishes like pollen. I wish for more play. More ease. More spark. More safety, respect, and freedom.
That’s where my energy goes now.
Because I know this: I’m not isolated — and isolating doesn’t actually work for super empaths like me.
The things I care about — they have echoes across the globe. But I no longer mistake those echoes for obligation. Instead, they activate me in useful ways. Gently. From the inside.
I’ve moved from bleeding out… to stewarding my energy. From reacting in ways that cost me… to responding in ways that feed the ecosystem.
And yes, some people are shocked. Even appalled!
They see my calm and think I don’t care.
That’s okay. I used to think that, too.
But now I know myself. I care so much that I’ve chosen to be prayerful, not panicked. Responsive, not reactive. Connected — absolutely! — but at the right distance, right depth.
This is sacred work.
Thriving Anyway is not a luxury. It’s how we stay alive and useful in a world still learning how to care without drowning. It’s a lifestyle design. And I get to choose it. Every day.
And you know what?
When I stop trying to carry the burdens of All…
I can finally feel my kin.
All over the world.
Doing their part.
Planting seeds.
Scattering wishes.
Welcoming life.
Me, too.
Useful Concepts for Thriving in This Story
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Acceptance
Acceptance grounds us in what is, freeing energy for healing and presence. -
Real Skills
Real skills are what help us live with heart and discernment in a messy world. -
Primitive Brain
Our primitive brain scans for threats — but we don’t have to let it run the show. -
Right Distance Right Depth
We can choose how close we come to what hurts — with compassion and sovereignty. -
Stewardship
Stewardship is how we tend to what’s ours to care for — with intention and love. -
Awareness
Awareness becomes powerful when it’s no longer hijacked by obligation or overload. -
Inspired Action
Inspired action flows from presence, not panic — and ripples through what’s close and real.