The World Is on Fire. Make the Thing.
Quick check-in: is anyone else walking around like, “Uh, this feels bad, right??”
Cool. Same.
So let’s name the thing:
The news is overwhelming. Violence feels constant. Systems we were told to trust feel broken, dysfunctional, and honestly - downright cruel. The future feels uncertain in a way most us haven’t felt before. As the youths would say: the vibes are giving end-timesy.
Lately, a lot of people I work with have been quietly (or not so quietly) wondering:
“Does what I’m doing even matter right now?”
“Should I really be painting / writing / baking / doing fill-in-the-blank while the world implodes?”
The short answer is yes.
The long answer is yes, because what we make, how we care, and the way we show up for each other is the world we’re actually fighting for. A world with art. A world with kindness. A world where people care for each other.
In my coaching practice, I talk a lot about doing work that feels like you—not work that shrinks you into what you think you “should” be. And when things feel dark, scary, or unstable, there’s a real temptation to abandon that. To diminish our work. To tell ourselves, “What I’m doing isn’t important enough.”
But art, care, laughter, beauty, connection—those are not silly little things. They’re not extras. They’re the things that make life worth living.
If we stop creating, stop caring, stop helping people feel good in their bodies or brave in their voices or less alone in their lives—that’s not being practical. That’s giving up the very thing we’re trying to protect. That’s surrender.
Here’s another thing I want to say (inspired by a TikTok I saw recently):
There is no single “right” way to show up during a moment of massive change or upheaval.
Revolutions don’t only need people in the streets with signs—though they absolutely need those people (and I do love a good sign (hello puns!). They also need:
Artists who help us imagine something different
Coaches, teachers, and facilitators helping people find their voice
Caretakers, nurses, medics, therapists, and healers
People who make food, who host, who check in
People who write songs, poems, jokes, movies
People who make it possible for others to keep going
Not everyone’s role is to be on the front line.
Not everyone is built for the same kind of fight.
We have different nervous systems. Different finances. Different health realities. Different circumstances and skill sets. And every contribution matters.
So if you’ve been quietly wondering whether you should tone it down, scale it back, or put it on hold until things “settle down,” I want to gently offer this:
Things don’t get better because we stop making.
They get better because we refuse to stop.
So keep doing what you do.
If your way of resisting is making art—make it louder.
If your way of resisting is care—give it generously.
If your way of resisting is humor—keep people laughing.
If your way of resisting is teaching, or holding space, or building community—don’t stop.
What you do matters, so you do you, boo.