I definitely know this feeling, and through the work with my coaching clients and students at Integral Coaching Canada, I know I am not alone struggling with this overwhelming sense of uncertainty. And staying blind and deaf to what's going on in the world doesn't seem to be a way out, right?

The question that keeps surfacing in my own practice, in coaching sessions, and in conversations with students and colleagues is this: How do we stay sane when the world feels like it's constantly pulling the rug out from under us?

This is where I start my gratitude rant for having come across Integral Coaching Canada about a decade ago. Taking a break from my executive job, I wanted to acquire some coaching skills that I thought would be useful for someone in a leadership position. And little did I know what started as coach training has become a full-fledged life transformation. It turns out that this transformation has also been preparation for this new world dis-order. Through my coaching training and work, as well as through my Buddhist meditation practice, the following are not just words, but a lived experience and daily practice: You can't control world politics; you can't predict the next crisis; but the way you relate to uncertainty—both  catastrophic and mundane—profoundly impacts your well-being, your health, and your capacity to show up for what actually matters.

This isn't about toxic positivity or pretending everything is fine. That’s not necessary or helpful. This is about learning to be present with what is, even when what is feels unbearable.

What Happens When We Encounter Overwhelming News?

What I’ve noticed in myself and in the people I work with is when the news hits hard, something automatic kicks in. Maybe it's the doom-scrolling? One more article, one more update… as if gathering more information will somehow give us back that sense of control. Or the anxiety spiral that starts in the mind can end up in the body as shallow breathing, tight shoulders, or a knot in the stomach. Sometimes it's numbness, a kind of shutting down. Sometimes it's rage that has nowhere productive to go.

These aren't character flaws, they're survival responses.

Underneath most of these reactions, there's usually a version of the same conditional belief: "As long as I can predict and control, then I am safe." It's a belief that probably served us well at some point; maybe in childhood, maybe in our careers. But when that sense of prediction and control gets threatened (really threatened, like it is now) the whole system goes into fight or flight.

I see this pattern everywhere: the executive who can't sleep because they're running scenarios about the economy; the parent paralyzed by worries about their children's future; the activist burning out from trying to single-handedly fix what feels irreparably broken. We're all, in our own ways, grasping for solid ground that keeps shifting.

A Different Kind of Ground

What my Buddhist practice has taught me, and what I see reinforced through Integral Coaching^® work, is that there's a different kind of ground available. Not the ground of certainty and control, but the ground of presence itself.

This might sound abstract, so let me be specific. Presence doesn't mean everything is okay. It means you're here, with what is, without needing it to be different in this exact moment. It's the capacity to feel your feet on the floor even while the world spins. To take a full breath even when the news is devastating. To notice, "I'm having the thought that everything is falling apart," rather than being completely consumed by that thought.

In our Integral Coaching^® training, we learn to be non-judgmentally present with our clients. We learn to hold space with them through open-hearted curiosity rather than trying to fix or change them. This same quality of presence is what allows me to be with myself when my own patterns get triggered. To step back and watch the anxiety spiral starting, to notice the urge to check the news for the fifteenth time, to feel the tightness in my chest without immediately needing to make it go away.

And here's the thing: this capacity for presence isn't something you either have or you don't. It's something you practice. It's a skill that gets stronger with use.

What Actually Helps: Three Practices for Building Presence

So what do I actually do when I wake up with that tightness in my chest? What do I suggest to clients who are caught in their own overwhelming spirals? Here are three practices that have become essential for me.

Being in The Now: All Senses on Deck

When my mind is spinning with catastrophic futures or replaying disturbing news, I bring myself back to right now through my senses. What do I actually see in this moment? Not what I'm thinking about, what's literally in front of my eyes. What do I hear? What do I smell? What sensations do I feel in my body—the texture of my clothes, the temperature of the air, the weight of my body in the chair?

This isn't escapism, it's the opposite. It's coming back to what's actually real in this present moment, rather than being lost in the stories my mind is spinning. And almost always, right now is more manageable than the catastrophic future my mind has been rehearsing.

Body Regulation: Breathing and the Body

Our bodies hold so much of our reactivity. That chest tightness I mentioned, that’s my nervous system responding to a perceived threat. So, I've learned to work directly with my body.

When I notice that tightness, that shallow breathing, those tight shoulders, I pause and breathe. I really breathe, not the shallow stress-breathing I do unconsciously. I let my breath deepen, drop my awareness into my belly, soften my knees. Sometimes I'll do something more active like a few deliberate movements, a brief walk, or even just standing up and stretching.

It sounds simple, and it is. But simple doesn't mean easy, and it doesn't mean ineffective.

When I work with my body this way—when I consciously shift from that contracted, braced state into something more open and grounded—something shifts. My nervous system gets the message: right now, in this moment, I am safe enough to take a full breath. The fight-or-flight response starts to settle. I can think more clearly and respond rather than react.

This is part of what we develop through practices in Integral Coaching^®. We build capabilities not just in how we think, but in how we inhabit our bodies, how we regulate our nervous systems, and how we move through the world. Because sustainable change isn't just cognitive, it's embodied.

Interrupting the Pattern: Asking the Right Question

Here's the pattern interrupt that has become most valuable for me. When I notice anxiety rising, I ask myself: "What is actually unsafe right here, right now?"

Not in the world. Not in the future. Right here, in this room, in this moment.

Usually, the honest answer is: nothing. I'm sitting at my desk. I have a roof over my head. I can take a breath. The crisis I'm anxious about is real, but it's not happening to me in this exact moment.

This question doesn't make the larger concerns disappear, but it helps me distinguish between actual present danger and the story of danger my mind is creating. From that calmer place, I can actually think about what, if anything, I can do that's meaningful and effective.

The Larger Pattern Work

These practices help in the moment. But what I've learned through coaching—both receiving it and offering it—is that these moments of overwhelm are also pointing to something deeper.

They're revealing our conditional beliefs, those unconscious "as long as... then..." equations we carry. Remember that belief I mentioned earlier? "As long as I can predict and control, then I am safe." This isn't a character flaw. At some point in our lives, this belief actually worked. Maybe it helped us navigate a chaotic childhood, or succeed in a demanding career, or protect ourselves from disappointment.

The thing is, these beliefs were formed in the past when they genuinely served us. And they're still running the show, even when they're no longer helpful. Even when they're actually causing us suffering.

In Integral Coaching®, we work explicitly with these conditional beliefs. We help clients see them clearly. We make them "object" as we say, meaning you can look at them rather than always looking through them. When you can see the belief operating ("oh, there's that part of me trying to control everything again"), you have a choice. When you can't see it, or when you're identified with it, it runs you automatically.

And here's what's important: we're not trying to get rid of these beliefs or fix them. The impulse to predict and control actually has value. Sometimes you do need to plan, to be prepared, and to think ahead. The work is about developing a different relationship with uncertainty itself, a new way of being that includes your capacity for planning but isn't imprisoned by the need for constant control.

This is where the real transformation happens. Not in white-knuckling yourself into being less anxious, but in actually shifting the underlying belief that's generating the anxiety in the first place. And that shift happens through practice and experiencing it in your body, in real situations, in low-risk settings where you can try on new ways of being and discover that you're actually okay. Understanding the underlying belief intellectually is not enough for transformation.

The beautiful thing about doing this work, as a coaching client or as a coaching student, is that it's deeply practical and profoundly transformative at the same time. You learn to see your own conditional beliefs with clarity and compassion. You develop the capacity to be present with discomfort rather than being run by it. You build new capabilities that actually stick because they're grounded in your lived experience, not just good intentions.

And honestly? Training as a coach at Integral Coaching Canada has been one of the most transformative things I've done precisely because of this. When I coach, I practice suspending my own patterns as much as possible. I suspend my need to fix, my impulse to have the answer, and my discomfort with someone else's struggle so I can be fully present with the client.

Each coaching conversation becomes a practice in interrupting my own automatic reactions. And that's a muscle I can use everywhere, including how I meet the world’s dis-order. The capacity to notice, "Oh, there's my pattern arising," and choose not to follow it, to stay present instead gets stronger every time I practice it.

Here's what happens when I'm not in the grasp of those patterns: I become receptive. I can actually hear what the client is saying, what the moment is asking for, and what's actually needed, rather than just hearing my own anxiety or agenda. There's a clarity that becomes available, moment to moment, when I'm not running my automatic programs. I can see more clearly, respond more skillfully, and discern what matters.

Whether I'm sitting with a client's uncertainty or sitting with my own anxiety about the state of the world, it's the same skill: the ability to be with what is without needing to immediately fix, control, or make it different. The presence I practice with others becomes available for my own inner work. That receptivity and clarity, moment to moment, is exactly what's needed when the ground keeps shifting beneath our feet.

Why This Matters Now

You might be wondering: "That's all well and good, but how does my personal practice matter when democracy is at stake, when climate change is accelerating, when [insert your particular concern here]?"

That’s a fair question. What I've come to understand is our internal state and our capacity for effective action are not separate things.

When we're caught in reactivity—in anxiety spirals, in doom-scrolling, in the fight-or-flight response--we're not actually more effective in the world. We're less effective. We make poorer decisions, we burn out, we lash out at the people we love, and we disconnect from the very things that give life meaning. When we're trapped in what needs to be true according to our conditional beliefs, we can't see what's actually possible.

When we can be present enough to interrupt those patterns and find receptivity and clarity, moment to moment, something shifts. We can think more clearly and see possibilities we couldn't see before because we're no longer constrained by our old beliefs about how things need to be. We can respond with wisdom rather than react from fear. We can sustain our engagement with what matters without destroying ourselves in the process.

Something even more subtle happens as well. When you shift how you relate to uncertainty in yourself, it ripples outward. The people around you feel it. Your capacity for presence becomes something others can lean into. Your groundedness in the midst of chaos becomes a kind of gift.

This doesn't mean the world's problems magically solve themselves, but it does mean you're contributing something real—a quality of being that's desperately needed right now. And you might just be able to see and act on possibilities that weren't visible when you were in the grasp of your patterns.

An Invitation

If you're reading this and recognizing yourself (feeling overwhelmed by world events, caught in patterns of reactivity, exhausted from trying to control the uncontrollable) I want you to know: you're not broken. You're human. And there are practices and pathways that can help.

Maybe it starts with one of the practices I've shared here. Maybe it's simply noticing the next time you reach for your phone before opening your eyes fully and asking yourself: "What do I actually need right now?" Maybe it's pausing to feel your feet on the floor, to take one full breath, to ask "what is actually unsafe right here, right now?"

These small practices can open up space. And in that space, you might find something you didn't expect: not certainty, but the capacity to be with uncertainty. Not control, but presence. Not all the answers, but a clarity about what's actually possible in this moment.

If you're sensing that you'd benefit from support in shifting these patterns more deeply, coaching might be one pathway worth exploring. As Integral Coaches™, we work with people on exactly these kinds of transformations. We focus on actually shifting the underlying conditional beliefs that create suffering instead of just managing symptoms. We help people see their patterns clearly enough to have choice, to build new capabilities through practice, and to discover what becomes possible when they're no longer trapped by what "needs to be true."

If you're someone who's drawn not just to your own transformation but to supporting others in theirs, our Integral Coaching® Certification Program might speak to you. Because here's what I know from experience: training as a coach is profoundly self-transformative. You can't learn to hold space for others' patterns without becoming more aware of your own. You can't practice suspending your own reactions to be fully present with clients without developing that same capacity for yourself. The work you do to develop receptivity and clarity in service of others becomes the work that transforms your own life.

Either way, whether you work with a coach, become a coach, or simply commit to your own practice, you don't have to be at the mercy of uncertainty. You can learn to be present even when the world pulls the rug out from under you. You can develop the capacity to see what's actually possible, moment to moment, rather than being trapped in what your old beliefs say needs to be true.

That's not a small thing. It might be one of the most important things we can do right now—for ourselves, for each other, and for whatever possibilities are waiting to emerge when we're present enough to see them.