Everything Feels Uncertain, So I’m Grounding

Lately, the world has felt heavier than usual. It’s not just the economy or the layoffs or the prices that seem to double overnight. It’s the constant pressure to keep going in a world that feels like it’s falling apart. As a Black woman, I feel that weight in ways I can’t even explain.

I’ve been thinking a lot about what it means to be still in times like these. I still have big dreams of course. I still have plans, goals, and visions for what I want to build. But I’d be lying if I said I’m not second guessing everything right now. The world doesn’t feel safe enough for risk.

So I’ve chosen to stay put and to hold on to the small certainties I do have. I was ready to go part-time at my full-time job but with the way things are, I decided to hold off. Not because I want to (trust me I really don’t), but because I understand the season we’re in. This isn’t the time to pretend things are okay. This is the time to protect our peace, our pockets, and our sanity.

These days, before I buy anything, I ask myself: do I really need this, or do I just need a bit of dopamine? And nine times out of ten….I just need to feel something. Because things are shaky right now and it can feel like we’ll be in this ….slump forever. The news, the layoffs, the shutdown, the uncertainty, it all just keeps chipping away at our peace of mind. And sometimes, the only thing keeping us from falling apart is finding some kind of control in a world that feels uncontrollable.

So I’m focusing on what I can hold onto: playdates with my little one, the money I can save, the quiet moments where nothing is crashing down. I’m learning to be okay with “enough,” even if it’s not everything I dreamed of.

I know what it feels like to want more. I know what it feels like to be tired of being the responsible one, the strong one. But right now, I’m not chasing more, I’m chasing steady. Peace of mind might be the only kind of wealth that still means something in times like this.

The world is shaky, and the future feels distant, almost nonexistent. But I’m here: standing still, holding on, and doing what I can to make it through. That’s all any of us can really do right now.