Earlier this week, in one of my Facebook groups, someone shared that they were struggling to keep up with manifesting practices when life feels so fragile. They mentioned natural disasters – whole communities swept away in minutes – and the terrible things humans are doing to each other daily. Their question was raw and honest: how can we focus on creating a better life when life itself can change, or vanish, in an instant?
That question stuck with me. Because when the world feels so heavy, it’s natural to wonder: is it worth it to try for happiness at all? Who am I to feel joy when so many are suffering? Does it even make a difference?
This post is part reflection, part processing, and part gentle reminder of what I know to be true right now.
Disclaimer: I’m not a scientist or psychologist. What follows is not peer-reviewed proof, but simply thoughts filtered through the trees, here in the woods, and distilled in my heart.
The Impossible Weight of Knowing Everything
The first thing that struck me in that conversation was how quickly life can change. Yet the truth is, there’s no way to know what will ultimately be a blessing or a curse. What looks like tragedy for one person might spark a ripple of resilience, kindness, or even beauty in ways we can’t predict. And what looks like a blessing might turn out to be harder than it seemed at first glance.
In the age of constant newsfeeds, we’re not only living through our own uncertainties – we’re carrying the tragedies of the entire world. In a single scroll we’re asked to process wars, fires, hurricanes, political chaos, and the heartbreak of strangers continents away.
Only a few generations ago, a village might learn about events elsewhere months after they happened – if at all. Now we’re watching live streams of devastation in real time, in multiple places at once. Our human brains, ancient as they are, were never designed for this kind of constant exposure. It’s no wonder we’re overwhelmed, fearful, anxious and exhausted.
And here’s the paradox: in being so globally “connected,” many of us feel more disconnected than ever – from each other, from nature, and from our own sense of peace.
So the real question isn’t why can’t I stay happy? The real question might be: how could anyone stay happy when they’re trying to carry the whole world’s grief?
Making the World Small Again
When everything feels too much, one of the most powerful things we can do is make our world small again. That doesn’t mean shrinking into ignorance or pretending suffering doesn’t exist. It means consciously narrowing the lens, coming back to what we can hold and influence right here, right now.
For some, that looks like a news fast – trading the endless scroll for a rhythm that’s more human. Remember when the news was something you sat down to once a day, usually in the evening? Try returning to that. Or, if that feels too far, choose to consume written news instead of video. Reading gives us a layer of distance; we can absorb information without the shock of endless images replaying in our minds.
Making the world small also means choosing local. Notice what’s happening in your own town, your own neighbourhood, your own home. While it’s important to stay aware of global issues, our greatest influence begins where our feet are planted.
And the strange gift of this narrowing? We begin to notice sweetness again.
The Radical Act of Joy
It might sound trivial to suggest eating a piece of fruit when the world is on fire. But really pause and think about it. To taste sweetness, to savour texture, to let your senses remind you that life, in this very moment, is still offering beauty – that’s not frivolous. That’s radical.
Happiness in troubled times is not denial. It’s defiance.
Joy is the refusal to let destruction and despair write the only story. When we laugh, or colour a page, or dance in the kitchen, we’re not turning away from suffering; we’re refusing to surrender to it completely.
And this matters. Because despair is contagious – but so is joy.
Practices That Bring Us Back
I’ve been experimenting with small, grounding practices that remind me joy is still possible:
- Colouring. I bought myself a grown-up colouring book and pencil crayons from the dollar store, and I’ll admit: it’s soothing. Watching colour fill a page is strangely calming.
- Kindness. When I assume everyone is carrying more than I can see, it changes how I move through the world. A smile, a kind word, a small act – it ripples farther than we know.
- Breath. Years ago in a Reiki session, the practitioner asked me to take a deep breath. To my shock, I couldn’t. Not until the end of the session, when I finally filled my lungs in a way I hadn’t for years. That moment taught me that breathing is not automatic when we’re bracing against the world. Sometimes happiness starts with the simple act of inhaling fully.
None of these are grand gestures. They don’t end wars or stop hurricanes. But they restore me enough to stay human in a world that often feels inhumane.
Why Happiness Matters
It’s tempting to think that in dark times, happiness is selfish. But I believe the opposite is true.
Happiness equips us to show up stronger for others. When we are resourced – calm, joyful, nourished – we can comfort, help, and create change far more effectively than when we’re depleted and anxious.
And on another level, happiness itself changes the story. When we choose joy in the midst of chaos, we’re planting a flag that says: despair does not get the final word. Love, beauty, and laughter still belong here.
That is not frivolous. That is essential.
A Different Kind of Manifesting
Maybe manifesting isn’t about vision boards and scripting the perfect future. Maybe in troubled times, manifesting is the daily act of choosing joy, kindness, and presence in spite of everything. Perhaps that allows the bigger manifestations space to infiltrate the chaos?
When we choose to breathe deeply, to notice the sweetness of fruit, to offer kindness instead of suspicion, we manifest a better reality in miniature – and those miniatures ripple outward.
Will tragedy still happen? Yes. But despair is not the only possible response.
The Invitation
So here’s what I’m asking of you – and of myself:
This week, make your world a little smaller. Turn off the feed, pick up a pencil, eat something sweet and fresh, call a friend, breathe more deeply than you thought possible. Do one small thing that reminds you joy is still possible.
Not because you’re ignoring suffering. But because you’re refusing to let it consume you.
In troubled times, happiness is not naive. It’s revolutionary.
And the world needs more of it.
I’d love to read your stories of finding joy in troubled times and I’m sure my readers could use some real life examples, leave it in the comments below or on Facebook.
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