When the World Shakes: Practicing Presence in Uncertain Times

Last night, I went to bed with the weight of troubling news—

a bombing in Iran ordered by Trump. Not the United States. Trump. The distinction matters.

The news stirred something long seated in my nervous system. I’ve carried a deep fear of conflict with Iran for years, aware of the volatility of its leadership. When I heard the news, a familiar flood arrived: tightness in my neck and shoulders, a chest that felt like it was shrinking in on itself, and a deep sadness for humanity. It's the familiar flight/fight response.

This is the human response to trauma. This is the wisdom of the body alerting me to the truth: we are not separate from the world.

This morning, I took a walk. I lay on the ground. I stretched and breathed and tried to let the fear move through my fascia and bones. When I talked to my sister this morning, she asked how I was, and I said worried and was met with “Why?” I thought to myself, how could she not know? Why isn’t she worried too? I felt even more alone with the news, my feelings, and my body trying to hold it all.

So, I turned inward, toward what I know. I went to the park and walked barefoot on the ground and sat on the earth again. I watched my dog, who is so much more attuned to the natural rhythms than I am. I listened for planes overhead. I tapped on my body. I let myself be guided. I could feel something moving through me—an energy not quite my own—reminding me that my sensitivity isn’t a burden, it’s a tool. My husband and I feel things deeply. That’s part of what makes us healers. And it means we have to care for ourselves with tenderness and intention, especially in times of crisis. We have to metabolize not only what’s happening in the world, but what our bodies are doing in response.

And our son feels it too—even when we don’t tell him. Children absorb the unspoken. I’ve spent years trying to shield him from the intensity of world events, but maybe part of growing up—part of this age where childhood is brushing up against adolescence—is learning to name what we feel and to hold it together.

We have a choice in moments like these. Not a choice about what’s happening in the world—but a choice about how we respond.

If you’re feeling dysregulated right now, you’re not alone.

Here are some practical tools that may help you soften your nervous system, stay grounded, and reconnect with your center:

✨ 1. Heart-Back Breathing

• Sit or lie down and place one hand on your sternum and one on the space between your shoulder blades (or imagine someone holding you there).
• Breathe into the back of your heart—inhale into the ribs behind you, exhale slowly
• Repeat for 2–3 minutes to help soften heart armor and ease anxiety.
  
  

🌿 2. Butterfly Tapping (Bilateral Tapping)

• Cross your arms so your hands land on the front of your shoulders or upper chest.
• Gently tap one side, then the other, in a slow and steady rhythm.
• This simple movement supports emotional processing and helps calm the amygdala, your brain’s fear center.
  
  

🧘 3. Legs Up the Wall with an Ice Cap

• Lie down with your legs up the wall or over a couch, place an ice pack on your forehead or top of your head.
• Let gravity and cooling support your parasympathetic nervous system.
• Stay 5–10 minutes, breathe, let your body be held.
  
  

🌀 4. Unwind the Neck & Shoulders

• Sit or stand. Inhale and roll your shoulders up, exhale and roll them down and back.
• Try “yes” and “no” nods with your head slowly, then let the head dangle forward and sway side to side.
• This helps discharge sympathetic tension stored in the upper body.
  
  

🌍 5. Ground Your Energy

• Lie on the floor or sit outside. Feel the connection between your body and the earth.
• Say silently or aloud: “I am here. I belong. I am supported.”
• You can add gentle rocking or press your feet into the floor to reinforce the contact.
  
  

Here’s what I turned to this morning in the hours after reading the news. I notice that going towards the feelings rather avoid them helps me integrate my difficult feelings and sensations.

• Breathwork and grounding on the earth
• Stretching and myofascial release with therapy balls
• Tapping (EFT)
• Drinking water, getting minerals, using arnica and my ice cap
• Walking with my dog and listening to nature
• Writing to metabolize my experience

Later today I am going to make sure the cars have gas, the pantry has food, and our home is stocked with 5-gallon water jugs. My husband handles the outside; I tend to the inner landscape. Together, we keep our little family steady.

And that’s what I want to offer today:

Taking care of ourselves is taking care of the world.
From this corner of Santa Fe, I cannot stop the bombs. But I can stop the war inside myself. I can calm my breath. I can listen. I can move the fear through my body and alchemize it into love. Into action. Into presence. May we remember that being in our bodies—fully, honestly, gently—is not a luxury.

It’s how we hold the world with love.

— In Your Body