Finding Joy in Uncertain Times: A Guide to Sustainable Self-Care
I recently led a workshop that asked a question many of us are quietly wrestling with: How do we take care of ourselves without becoming numb to everything happening around us?
It's a question born from exhaustion. From the constant barrage of political turmoil, social violence, and uncertainty that seems to define our current moment. From the feeling that we have to choose between staying informed and staying sane.
If you've found yourself swinging between doomscrolling at 2am and completely avoiding the news, between hypervigilance and emotional shutdown, between trying to do everything and doing nothing at all—you're not alone. And more importantly, you're not broken.
Your nervous system is doing exactly what it's designed to do when faced with ongoing stress and uncertainty.
The Impossible Paradox We're All Navigating
Here's the tension: How do we stay informed and engaged without drowning? How do we protect our peace while not abandoning our values? How do we care for ourselves without becoming numb to everything happening in this country, and how do we care for our neighbors while also protecting ourselves mentally and emotionally?
These questions feel impossible because they seem like contradictions. Like we have to choose one or the other.
And on top of that, there's often this pressure—sometimes from others, sometimes from ourselves—that says: If you're not paying attention to everything, if you're taking time for yourself, if you're finding moments of joy, then you don't really care.
So we try to do it all. Stay on top of every news story. Show up for every cause. Be available for everyone who needs us. Never rest. Never turn away.
And then we crash. Or we numb out completely.
But what if I told you there's a third option? What if it's not either/or, but both/and?
Understanding the Window of Tolerance
Before we can talk about solutions, we need to understand what's happening in our nervous systems.
The concept of the window of tolerance comes from trauma therapy. Think of it as your optimal zone of functioning—the Goldilocks zone where you're not too activated, not too shut down, but just right.
Here's what it looks like:
Above the Window: Hyperarousal (Overwhelm)
Racing thoughts and doomscrolling
Anxiety and panic
Inability to focus or sleep
Emotional reactivity
Physical signs: rapid heartbeat, shallow breathing, tension
Below the Window: Hypoarousal (Numbness)
Emotional shutdown and disconnection
Apathy and avoidance
"I just can't deal with this right now"
Withdrawal from people and activities
Physical signs: low energy, heaviness, brain fog
In the Window: Regulated and Present
Able to feel your feelings without being consumed
Can take action without burning out
Connected to yourself and others
Thinking clearly and making good decisions
Present and responsive
When we're constantly exposed to distressing information—political violence, social injustice, threats to our communities—our nervous system swings between these extremes as a protective response.
You might spend days in overwhelm, refreshing the news constantly, your heart racing, unable to think about anything else. Then you crash into complete shutdown, avoiding everything, feeling nothing.
Neither extreme serves us or our communities.
In overwhelm, we can't think clearly or take effective action. In shutdown, we disconnect from our values and can't show up for what matters.
The goal isn't to never feel overwhelmed or to never need to step back. The goal is to notice when we're leaving our window and have tools to come back to center.
Joy is Not Toxic Positivity—It's Resistance
Now let's talk about something that might feel controversial when things are hard: joy.
I want to be crystal clear about what I mean by joy, because it's not what you might think.
Joy is not:
Pretending everything is fine
Bypassing pain or ignoring injustice
Toxic positivity or "good vibes only"
Forcing yourself to be happy when you're grieving
Dismissing real anger and pain
Joy is:
Refusing to let systems break you down
Reclaiming your humanity in the face of dehumanization
Sustaining your life force so you can keep going
An act of defiance and resistance
Our ancestors knew this. Black communities have always known this. LGBTQ+ communities know this. Indigenous communities know this. In the face of violence and oppression, joy has been survival. Joy is how we've endured.
As Audre Lorde said, "Caring for myself is not self-indulgence, it is self-preservation, and that is an act of political warfare."
Joy is part of that care.
The Science Behind Joy
Here's the practical piece: you cannot sustain engagement—whether that's activism, caregiving, community work, or just showing up for your life—running on empty.
Joy literally changes our brain chemistry. It releases dopamine and serotonin, which help us:
Think more clearly
Solve problems creatively
Connect with others more deeply
Build resilience in the face of adversity
When we're depleted, our brain goes into survival mode. And survival mode is not where innovation, collaboration, or sustained action happen.
So when we intentionally cultivate joy, we're not being selfish or frivolous. We're building the resilience we need to stay present and engaged for the long haul.
Both/And, Not Either/Or
Here's what's beautiful and difficult: joy and grief can coexist.
You can be heartbroken about injustice AND find delight in a sunset. You can be angry about what's happening AND laugh with your friends. You can grieve AND dance. You can care deeply AND protect your peace.
These are not contradictions—they're how we stay whole.
Making space for joy doesn't make us less able to hold grief and anger. In fact, it makes us MORE able to keep feeling, keep caring, keep acting. Because when we're only in pain, we collapse. But when we have moments of lightness and connection and pleasure, we have the capacity to continue showing up.
Caring for Your Community Without Depleting Yourself
One question I hear often is: "But what about caring for others? How do I show up for my community when I'm also trying to protect myself?"
Here's the truth: the oxygen mask principle applies to community care.
When you're running on empty, when you're dysregulated, when you're depleted—you can't offer quality care to anyone. You might be physically present, but you're not really there. And often, you end up resenting the people you're trying to help.
Identifying Your Capacity
Before you say yes to helping someone or taking on a responsibility, pause and ask yourself: What can I actually offer today, given my current capacity?
There's a difference between:
What I wish I could offer: Drop everything and help for hours, solve the problem, be available 24/7
What I can actually offer right now: Help for one hour, listen for 20 minutes, send resources, check in once this week
Both are real. But only one is honest and sustainable.
And here's the thing: people would rather have you show up in a limited way that's genuine than have you overextend and then disappear or show up resentful.
Your capacity changes day to day. Some days you have more to give. Some days you need to receive. All of that is okay and normal.
Setting Loving Limits
Loving limits are boundaries that honor both your needs and the other person's dignity. They're not harsh or cold—they're clear and kind.
Examples:
"I care about you AND I need to take care of myself right now. Can we talk tomorrow?"
"I want to support you. I have 20 minutes to talk—is that helpful, or would you rather wait until I have more time?"
"I can't help with that, but here's what I can do..."
When you're honest about your limits, you build trust. People know they can count on what you say yes to.
Receiving Care is Part of the Ecosystem
Here's something many caregivers resist: you also need to receive care. Not just give it.
When you let someone care for you, you're giving them an opportunity to contribute, to feel useful, to express their love. You're building interdependence, not dependence. You're creating community, not just serving it.
If someone offers to bring you food, help with a task, or listen to you vent—let them. Practice saying yes. It might feel uncomfortable at first, but it gets easier.
A Practice for Right Now
Here's a question for you to sit with: What's one way you can care for a neighbor or community member this week that actually energizes you rather than depletes you?
Maybe it's:
Texting someone who makes you laugh
Bringing your neighbor's trash bins in because you're already outside
Sharing a resource that helped you
Inviting someone to do something you were already planning to do
Asking for help and letting someone show up for you
Care doesn't have to be heavy to be meaningful.
The Both/And of Being Human
Finding joy in uncertain times isn't about ignoring reality—it's about building the resilience we need to stay in reality for the long haul.
You can be heartbroken about what's happening AND find moments of delight. You can be angry AND laugh with your friends. You can grieve AND dance. You can care deeply AND protect your peace.
These are not contradictions—they're how we stay whole.
The sustainability plan you create is yours to revise, adapt, and return to. It's not meant to be perfect. It's meant to be a living tool that evolves with you.
And remember: you're not alone in this. We're all figuring it out together. On the days when you can't hold it, someone else will. On the days when they can't, you will. That's what community means.
Moving Forward
I'm passionate about making care work accessible, especially to communities of color. I believe that joy is resistance—especially in times where we're constantly triggered by acts of political and social violence.
As someone who loves working with my hands through creative outlets, I know firsthand how grounding it can be to create, to connect with our bodies, to make space for beauty even in the midst of struggle.
If this resonates with you and you want to go deeper, I invite you to join me for upcoming workshops where we explore these practices together, create personalized sustainability plans, and build community with others who are navigating the same challenges.
Because here's what I know for sure: The world needs people who can do both—who can feel deeply and still show up. That's you.
Take good care of yourself. You deserve it. And we need you whole.
-Cole
Resources
If you're in crisis:
National Suicide Prevention Lifeline: 988
Crisis Text Line: Text HOME to 741741
SAMHSA National Helpline: 1-800-662-4357
For ongoing support:
Therapy for Black Girls: therapyforblackgirls.com
Inclusive Therapists: inclusivetherapists.com
Open Path Collective (affordable therapy): openpathcollective.org
