Living in the Tension

Dr. Nick’s Reflections:

Living in the Tension

There’s no easy way to say it: the world feels heavy right now.

You don’t even have to look far—scroll through the news, step into a conversation, glance at social media—and you’ll feel it immediately. The division. The suspicion. The anger boiling just beneath the surface. We live in a time when political polarization isn’t just an occasional disagreement—it feels like an identity. It defines relationships, breaks families apart, and turns neighbors into adversaries.

It’s exhausting.

The state of our country, and honestly, the state of the world, feels like it’s teetering on a wire stretched impossibly thin. Wars rage on. Economies wobble. Natural disasters increase. Leaders bicker while ordinary people carry the consequences on their backs. It’s no wonder anxiety levels are skyrocketing. We are constantly being asked to absorb more tension than our hearts were ever meant to hold.

Some days, it feels like no matter where you turn, you’re either being told who you should fear, who you should hate, or who you should cancel. The world feels so loud with division that the quiet voice of hope can be hard to hear.

And if you’re like me, maybe you’ve found yourself asking questions you never thought you’d ask:

Is this just how it’s going to be now?

Can we come back from this?

Where do I even fit in anymore?

It’s normal to feel anxious in times like these. It’s human to grieve the sense of community and certainty that feels lost. It’s okay to admit that you feel disoriented by the chaos and pulled in a million different directions.

But I also believe this: we are not powerless.

The one thing polarization and fear can never take away from us is the choice of how we show up.

We can choose to listen more than we speak.

We can choose to humanize instead of dehumanize.

We can choose to be bridge-builders, not just wall-constructors.

It won’t make the world’s problems disappear overnight. It won’t erase the anxiety that bubbles up in the middle of the night when you’re trying to sleep but can’t stop thinking about everything. But it might just keep us from losing ourselves completely in the noise.

I remind myself often: there’s still good.

There are still people quietly loving their neighbors.

There are still teachers pouring into students.

There are still nurses holding hands in hospital rooms.

There are still strangers who offer kindness for no reason other than the fact that kindness still matters.

The world may be shaking, but we don’t have to let it harden us.

The louder the chaos, the more we must protect our softness.

The deeper the division, the more courage it takes to remain tender.

And maybe—just maybe—that tenderness is what saves us.

If you’re feeling overwhelmed right now, you’re not weak. You’re awake.

If you’re feeling anxious about the future, it’s because you care.

But don’t let the heaviness convince you that hope is naive.

Hope is rebellion in a world that banks on fear.

Stay soft. Stay brave. And when you feel like the world is too much, take a deep breath and remember:

You were not built to carry it all alone.