With war, we have to be the ones to pause
Cycles of reactivity benefit the people wreaking havoc on our nervous systems.
I was in Slovenia for the global Hearth Summit on wellbeing when I learned that my country had dropped bombs on Iran.
Changemakers from 90 nations had gathered to nurture ecological and human flourishing on a planet aching for grace.
And then, the news.
My heart beat faster. My body tensed. My soul sank.
I incessantly checked my phone, toggling between sites to find out what had happened and what might come. The spacious optimism that had grown inside me amidst people committed to peace contracted. I began playing out the domino effects of the U.S. and Israel attacking Iran while waging war on Gaza and the innocents terrorized on every side of the conflicts. My vision, even my imagination, narrowed. Friends texted to ask if they should avoid or leave D.C. in case of retaliatory attacks.
Just typing this, I can feel my stress growing. As you read it, is yours?
Notice what’s happening with your body, mind and emotions. Are they becoming clenched, impatient or prickly? Are you numb or unfocused? Or do you feel curious, like a traveler attuned and flexible to the changing landscape?
Take a moment, if you would. Check in with what’s happening, and whether your stress is useful to you as it is right now. If it’s not, consider moving your body. Or take a slow inhale and exhale. Maybe look up and see the colors and shapes around you. If you can, perhaps feel your feet on the ground or your hand on your heart.
During periods of reactivity, often elicited by the systems that misuse us, we are prone to react. We can become an extension of the system if we are not already a part of it. Within seconds, we become the victim and the perpetrator of ignorance, intolerance and indignity whether in a war, a workplace or a family. In these moments, a tiny pause becomes an island in a flooded basin that may reveal itself to be a peninsula with a road to higher ground. Pausing and noticing what we feel is an act of resistance. The systems are fueled by our disembodied adrenaline and apathy. If only for a second, we don’t have to react.
In the space this creates, imagination can eventually return. And with it, hope for healing and the community to support it. This is what I felt in Slovenia, where I joined Georgetown University collaborators to present a framework we developed to disrupt cycles of trauma and cultivate cycles of wellbeing. In my next newsletter, I’ll write about the hope I gave and received and the ways we can rehumanize the systems separating us from ourselves and each other.
Before then, though, I wanted to offer this pause knowing that for many of us, it will be very hard not to look at the news. I also wanted to share two resources for those who are reading, watching or listening to both rigorous and sensationalist members of the media, most of whom will be breathless at this point.
The first is from
The second resource is a video essay I produced for The Washington Post in 2020, when President Trump in his first administration ordered the killing of Iranian Major Gen. Qasem Soleimani in an airstrike at the Baghdad International Airport. The news peg is old but the commentary about the media is evergreen. I advise the public to heed the lessons from the 2003 U.S. invasion of Iraq, when journalists swallowed and regurgitated unreliable intelligence and didn’t question the absence of proof when President George W. Bush justified the war on false pretenses.
Reactive, fear-driven patriotism in the United States prompted Americans to justify military actions that killed innocent civilians in Iraq and Afghanistan and left service members dead and disabled, while accepting domestic policies that stripped American Muslims of their rights here at home. We know better now. We need to do better now.
The added challenge is to balance the urgency to do better with compassion for why we struggle in the first place. Research shows that our nervous systems evolved to handle immediate threats in small social groups, not the constant stream of information, uncertainty and global crises we face today. This evolutionary mismatch between our biological wiring and modern demands creates chronic stress that we struggle to process effectively. I don’t mean to cause despair with this reality, but to validate the experience of those feeling overwhelmed or short-tempered.
I say this to encourage you to be gentle with yourself and others. I say this to recognize that sometimes, we need to pause in order to find the path to higher ground.
P.S. I appreciate when folks find each other in the comments, so if you’d like to share how you’re noticing and responding to reactivity in your nervous system or in the political system, it may be helpful for others to hear. Sometimes noticing is the first step to resetting.
Step by step together,
Kate
‘My heart beat faster. My body tensed. My soul sank.’ —Exactly how I felt. Grateful you are able to express all of this Kate. I believe with a clear plan— we will prevail. America and our freedoms must survive.
I’m leaning into SELF CARE including time spent in nature, daily meditation , and staying connected to my people. We need a plan and hope.
In all realms, a pause is where we find our grounding ~ where we allow the space to clearly decide. Not present in the actions of the past few days, anymore than when we went to Iraq. As a health and wellness coach, I've come to believe that our real power, our true solace, is only found within ourselves. Only then can we extend it to those around us. Thank you, Kate, for the clarity you provided.