Holding on to Joy in a world that’s lost the plot

Some days I look around and think, what on earth is going on?

Hi dear one

Some days I look around and think, what on earth is going on?
Everything feels louder, faster, more chaotic than it used to.
The fear machine (aka the TV) pumps out a steady stream of panic and gloom. I haven’t owned one for years, best decision ever, but still, the madness finds its way in through screens and headlines. Even just a scroll through the news can make your nervous system curl up in a corner.

And living beside someone like my hubby Ole, who’s spent decades pulling back the curtain, researching, exposing, connecting dots, well, it’s a lot.
You can’t live next to someone who’s seen that much truth and not feel the weight of it.
This path of seeing clearly is powerful but it’s also intense. It’ll crack your heart wide open if you let it.

I think a lot about my kids, now in their 20s and 30s, trying to find their footing in a world that seems upside down.
I want them to feel grounded in something real.
To see the beauty that still exists.
To believe that kindness isn’t naive and that integrity still matters.

And the truth is, it does.
I see it every day. Quietly. In people. In moments. In little pockets of goodness that rarely make the news.

When it all feels like too much, I take what I call a helicopter view, zooming way out above the chaos.
From that altitude, things shift. I can see people helping each other. I see healing, creativity, honest conversations, and soft eyes. I see people rising, even if the world’s on fire.

That’s what I hold on to. That’s where I plant my focus. On the light.

Because the moment I slip into judgment, when I start feeling furious at the blindness, the greed, the absurdity, I feel it in my body straight away.
My energy drops. My chest tightens. My whole system gets heavy.
Judgment eats joy like acid.
And I’m not giving my energy to that anymore.

Instead, I come back to what I can affect. And lately, that means reconnecting with joy, not the performative kind, but the kind that lives quietly in your chest, even when things are hard.

There’s real science behind this by the way.
Emotions like joy and gratitude actually shift your nervous system. The HeartMath Institute has shown that they create a state called heart coherence, a kind of inner harmony where your heart, brain, and body all come into rhythm.
Stress hormones drop.
Clarity returns.
Your immune system even gets a boost.

And joy doesn’t just stay inside you, it radiates outward. Your heart generates an electromagnetic field, and when you’re in a joyful, loving state, that field expands.
You walk into a room, and people feel it, even if they don’t know why.

There’s a common idea floating around in spiritual circles that joy is a high frequency emotion. And while the exact numbers (like “540 Hz”) aren’t literally measured like sound waves, the concept holds weight.
Joy expands. It softens. It opens.
And it absolutely changes your state.

One of the simplest things I’ve been doing lately is a practice I call the inner smile.
It takes a minute.

You close your eyes.
Place a hand on your heart.
Breathe in slowly for five, out for five.
And you smile, just a little. Not a big grin. Just a soft, warm, inside-out smile.

While you breathe, bring to mind thoughts of gratitude, something real, something now.
Then gently let that thought drop from your mind into your heart.
Feel it settle there.
Keep smiling, even just a little. Let it soften you from the inside out.

That’s it.
It sounds too simple, but try it.
Your body knows. Your nervous system responds.
Your energy begins to shift.

I do it when I feel myself tightening.
If I start spiraling.
When the outside noise gets too loud.

And in that space, joy slips back in.
Not because everything is fixed, but because I’ve made space for it again.

Joy is not a luxury. It’s a lifeline.
Especially now.

Some days it feels like keeping a small fire alive in strong winds.
But even a small flame changes everything.

And no matter how noisy or upside down the world gets, I keep coming back to this knowing
There are still good hearts beating.
Still hands helping.
Still joy available if I let it in.

And that’s where I’ll keep standing.

That’s my two cents anyway.
How are you holding up out there? I’d love to know what’s helping you find your joy in all the noise. The comments are open, and as always, I’m so grateful you’re here.

Stay curious and grateful.
Joy and light,
Kim