Looking back now, 2021 felt like one long strange episode of humanity collectively refreshing the news whilst emotionally unravelling in elasticated waistbands.
Every day seemed to begin with:
“Breaking News.”
Which usually meant:
“Here’s another thing for your nervous system to panic about before breakfast.”
Another variant.
Another graph.
Another dramatic headline with music underneath it like the world was ending at 6pm after the weather forecast.
And the truth is, after a while, many of us stopped noticing how much all that noise was affecting us.
Because human beings adapt remarkably quickly to stress.
Even unhealthy stress.
Especially unhealthy stress actually.
At one point during lockdown I realised I was checking my phone constantly without even thinking about it.
News alerts.
Statistics.
Arguments online.
Endless opinions from people who suddenly became part time virologists after reading half an article and watching YouTube in the bath.
The really strange thing was most of the information I was absorbing had absolutely no direct impact on my actual life in that moment.
But my nervous system reacted as if every headline personally required my immediate emotional involvement.
I’d be sitting having dinner with Stella, my phone would buzz, and before I’d consciously thought about it I was already reaching for it.
Like a lab rat trained by anxiety and WiFi.
Not exactly peak emotional presence.
The problem is modern media is brilliantly designed to hold attention.
And unfortunately our brains are naturally drawn toward threat.
Negative stories.
Conflict.
Fear.
Drama.
Human beings survived by noticing danger quickly.
The issue is we now carry that ancient survival system around in a world where danger arrives twenty four hours a day through a glowing rectangle in our pockets.
Our brains were never designed for permanent global awareness.
You are not supposed to emotionally process wars, disasters, politics, pandemics, celebrity scandals and somebody from school arguing about conspiracy theories all before your first cup of tea.
One of the biggest changes I made during that period was deliberately reducing how much news I consumed.
Not ignoring the world completely.
Not pretending difficult things weren’t happening.
Just recognising that constantly flooding my brain with negativity was changing how I experienced life itself.
And honestly, once I stepped back a bit, I realised how much calmer I felt.
It was like my nervous system had finally unclenched slightly.
Because the truth is most of us massively underestimate how much emotional energy constant threat scanning consumes.
Shoulders tight.
Mind racing.
Attention fragmented.
Then we wonder why we can’t sleep properly or relax.
One thing I learned during that period is that perspective matters enormously.
Not every problem in the world requires your emotional collapse in response to it.
That sounds harsh initially, but I actually think it’s compassionate.
You cannot meaningfully help anybody if your own system is permanently overloaded.
It’s the old airplane oxygen mask thing really.
You help people better when you can breathe properly yourself.
And social media especially made this difficult because suddenly everybody felt pressure to react instantly to everything.
Every headline.
Every outrage.
Every opinion.
Sometimes within minutes.
But real positive change rarely comes from exhausted people screaming at each other online at midnight whilst eating crisps and doom scrolling themselves into emotional oblivion.
Sustainable change usually requires calmer minds than that.
Looking for good things again.
Not fake positivity.
Not pretending life was perfect.
Just retraining my brain to notice that alongside all the chaos there were still kind people, funny moments, good conversations and small acts of decency happening quietly every day.
And often those moments mattered more emotionally than the headlines did.
I also became much more aware of the Japanese phrase Ichi-go ichi-e during that time.
“This moment only once.”
I’ve always loved that idea.
Because during lockdown many of us realised how often we live mentally somewhere else.
Thinking ahead.
Worrying.
Refreshing.
Planning.
Reacting.
Meanwhile life itself is happening right in front of us unnoticed.
A conversation.
A meal.
A walk.
A laugh.
A quiet moment with somebody you love.
They are life.
And perhaps one of the strangest gifts hidden inside all that uncertainty was being reminded how important simple human moments actually are.
Not the dramatic ones.
The ordinary ones.
The cup of tea.
The conversation.
The silence.
The walk.
The people.
The things we normally rush straight past.
I think staying positive has very little to do with pretending everything is fine.
It’s more about deciding what you repeatedly feed your mind.
Because your attention shapes your emotional world far more than most people realise.
And if all you ever consume is fear, outrage and catastrophe, eventually your brain starts believing that is all the world contains.
It isn’t.
There is still kindness.
Still humour.
Still love.
Still ridiculousness.
Still good people trying their best whilst quietly carrying struggles nobody else fully sees.
Sometimes you just have to deliberately look for them again.
