External chaos; internal calm

Some non-#captainobvious advice about how to stay steady when the ground feels anything but.

Let’s start with a disclaimer: I do not have this whole zen thing figured out.

Not even close.

So everything I’m about to write is as much for me as it is for you, and is born out of my own trial and error, experiences with clients and a lot of reading on the subject.

And unless you’re a Buddhist monk living in the Tibetan hills, I’m going to guess that you don’t have the whole ‘inner calm’ thing on lock (though you may certainly be better at it than me!).

With that out of the way, here’s why I still felt compelled to write this piece and share it with you, despite my own imperfect grasp on the subject:

Because things are tense and challenging right now.

The US election is less than a week away and tensions are high. Russia and North Korea are in cahoots. The conflict in Gaza has been waging for over a year, leaving a humanitarian catastrophe in its wake. The price of groceries is so high, I’ve been seriously embracing lentils.

And everywhere you turn, the volume about it all is turned up to an 11.

Oh, and let’s not forget—the holiday season is mere weeks away.

Being a kind, thoughtful human through all of this isn’t easy, and leading well feels harder than ever.

The impact of second-hand stress

I grew up around smokers: my dad smoked much of my life, my aunt smoked and my grandmother smoked. The smell of smoke permeated everything around them, even when they didn’t have a cigarette in their mouths. Even now, five months after my father’s death and even longer since he last smoked, some of his belongings still carry the subtle smell of smoke.

Back in the 80s and 90s when I was growing up, there was limited awareness on the effects of second-hand smoke. Heck, there was limited awareness on the effects of smoking, period. Nobody knew better and so smoking in other people’s company — in their homes, in their cars and even on planes (can you even imagine now??) was considered normal.

The only awareness I had about the effects of second-hand smoke came when my dad tried to quit. In those months where he went without, I noticed something significant: my nose went from congested and stuffed up, to open and clear.

I could breathe again.

Second-hand stress isn’t so different from second-hand smoke.

It seeps into our lives, largely out of our control, clinging to us despite our best efforts to limit its exposure. And just like second-hand smoke, it has real effects—from headaches and lingering anxiety to quick tempers, withdrawal or frustration. Often, it’s that low-level hum of tension that seems ever-present, impossible to shake.

And this is on top of the everyday, personal stress we all face in our lives. As I write this, my husband and I are navigating his impending layoff—a stress we’ve lived with since January 2024. It’s not debilitating, and we’ll be okay, but it’s been a steady drumbeat in the background, growing louder as it nears.

My point? There’s the stress we expect, the stress that surprises us, and then the stress we absorb just from existing as engaged, thoughtful people in a complicated world.

It all adds up.

Finding simple, sustainable ways to find some semblance of inner calm amidst the external chaos is critical.

Finding (some) calm in a world that’s “a lot”

I know that calm can feel like a big ask right now — when life gets to be too much, the idea of calm is almost too laughable to consider.

“Who has time for calm?” you might ask. “Don’t you see the world is on fire?”

Yes, that’s how I tend to default as well. Despite knowing that when life is hard and the stress levels are high my self-care protocol becomes more important than ever, I tend toward taking an opposite approach: more scrolling, more late nights and more coffee.

I know, I know….not the best example of inner calm, am I? What can I say, I’m human.

That said, we still have options available to us that can help manage the chaos, and if we’re lucky (and persistent), even create levels of inner calm regardless of what’s happening out there (she gestures wildly at the world).

Here are a few ideas to consider. I specifically tried to stay away from the #captainobvious options like ‘get more sleep’ and ‘drink something other than coffee’ because you’re smart and you know these already (and if you’re not doing them, might be a good time to try).

5 ways to invite calm in

Here are a few simple shifts to find a steadier centre, no matter how loud and chaotic the world gets.

1. Be mindful of the meaning you make

When my stress levels rise, I notice that the part of my brain charged with meaning-making kicks into overdrive and sends me on a roller-coaster ride of big emotions and intrusive thoughts. If I’m not careful, I can assign a lot of meaning to one big thing…or even a few small things that aren’t necessarily true, but feel true.

Here’s an example:

I write an essay here on Substack, and send it out to my list. I don’t get a lot of feedback in the form of likes or comments.

On any regular day, my meaning-making system says, “Hmm, maybe that topic wasn’t as relevant as I thought it would be,” or “People are probably distracted with all the election news and don’t have a lot of time to engage with my posts right now.”

When my stress levels are high and I’m not managing them well, my meaning-making shifts gears, telling me, “Your posts aren’t smart enough or fresh enough. You’re just one voice in a sea of Substack and maybe you don’t have what it takes.”

Ugh. What a difference, right?

Some of the best advice I’ve ever received was the maxim: Feelings aren’t facts.

When I first heard this, my jaw dropped. It was my Oprah “aha” moment. As obvious as the statement is, living it was anything but obvious to me.

Now, whenever I feel myself cresting into despair or disillusionment at the state of things, I notice what I’m making it mean and whether it’s actually true.

Because often it’s not…at least not entirely — just like those pesky NYT polls. 😉

2. Your level of care is not measured only by the volume of your voice

If you’ve been around here for more than a hot minute, you’ll know that one of my core values is fairness (and a nice surprise to find that Kamala Harris also shares this core value).

That means, and has always meant, that I care deeply about people being treated fairly (justly, kindly, compassionately…all of it). I get this from my dad, who was a vocal voice in our community throughout my life.

And while my commitment to fairness has stayed constant, the way I demonstrate it has evolved.

In my early adult life, this value was expressed with more overt activism through protesting, petition signing and by my work with many non-profit organizations. In my 30s and early 40s, that commitment found a new home online, as I joined discussions debates and shared my perspective on social media.

Now, in my late 40s and after a few too many Twitter interactions that left me pulling my hair out, it’s morphed into more of a quiet caring model that is just as aligned with my value as it ever was, but way less public in its presentation.

If I’m honest, it took me a while to make peace with that — I had moments of thinking I was becoming disengaged or that I was essentially condoning what was happening because I wasn’t speaking up loudly and often.

But despite the hellscape that is online cancel culture, I came to realize that I didn’t have to have the loudest voice to demonstrate that I care.

Over time, I realized that my impact didn’t depend on the volume of my voice but on the action behind it.

Put plainly: volume doesn’t always equal impact.

I remind myself of this when I’m tempted to engage online.

Case in point: the other day, I was scrolling on LinkedIn and caught Brené Brown’s announcement post about her interview with Vice President Harris. I didn’t think much of it until I read the comments, filled with a mix of positive celebrations and negative criticism.

Inevitably, as I read through the comments, I came across my most rage-inducing trigger: someone telling her to “Stay in your lane.” 🤬

I can’t express how much this bothers me — the very idea that talking about politics — the very thing that impacts each and every one of us, especially as leaders — should be reserved only to some, makes me bananas.

Bananas, I tell you. 🍌

My fingers started typing a reply so quickly that I swear I saw steam emanating from them. I wrote some quippy, passive-aggressive response that read as reasonable but was absolutely throwing shade.

Just before I was about to hit post…I paused. “Was this worth it?” I asked myself. And then as quickly as I’d typed out my response, I deleted it and got off LinkedIn.

Because we both know how productive my keyboard warriorism would have been, which is to say, not at all.

I would have been worked up, the person I responded to would have soon been worked up, as would everyone else that saw or engaged with the post. And my best guess is that they wouldn’t have thought for a New York minute as to whether I had a point. All that stress for zero positive impact. No thanks.

To be clear, this doesn’t mean my new m.o. is to let it all go and leave it to others to fight the good fight.

It just means that my ‘fight’ now shows up in the form of conversations with my two teenagers who are seeing so much dis/mis-information come across their TikTok streams. It means offering up other perspectives when I’m in conversation with people in my real life, and getting curious as to why they believe what they believe. And it means putting my time and attention into places where I can have impact, even if very few people ever see it.

You get to choose how and where you direct your care.

All that matters is that you do.

3. Limit your second-hand exposure

I’ve got someone in my life who has wildly different views from me. When I go to see this person, I tend to brace for conversation topics that I’d prefer not to engage in. While we can find common ground on the surface-level stuff, the minute we engage in anything about the world at large, from politics to diet culture to parenting to money, we quickly find ourselves in verbal quicksand — sinking deeper and deeper in and finding it nearly impossible to get out of.¹

The good news? I only see this person a few times a year. And so, I find my way through it and do my best to stick to easy topics like cooking and music and vacation-planning. It’s not ideal, but it works.

As I get older, I am way more intentional about who and what I spend my time with, as a commitment to my own well-being. This doesn’t mean creating a bubble of same-same voices, but simply limiting my exposure to people, communities and technologies that stoke my anger and fuel the toxicity we’re already swimming in.

I minimize time spent with energy vampires or those who are looking for a fight, and I stay off platforms that are hell-bent on creating more divisiveness (so long, Twitter).

We can’t avoid people who think differently from us, nor would we want to entirely, but just like second-hand smoke, we can do our best to limit our exposure all while having a fresh change of clothes in the car when we leave.

4. Do one thing every day that makes you feel more like yourself

I’ve shared this advice from Kendra Adachi of the Lazy Genius before — probably multiple times — because I love it so much. It feels like the truest, most doable form of self-care I can hope to engage in.

Instead of adding a new to-do list or ‘self-care shoulds’ to an already full plate, try to do one thing each day that makes you feel more like yourself.

That might be listening to a favourite podcast with a hot cup of coffee, or going to the library to pick up some new books, or vent-voxing with a good friend while you go for a walk, or baking banana muffins.

The activity itself doesn’t matter, nor does it have to become a daily ritual.

Just a simple moment that feels like ‘you’ can help keep your feet on the ground and your head and heart from swirling around.

5. Remember that the world is always on fire, and somehow we keep going

As a longtime fan of The West Wing, I’m only now discovering Aaron Sorkin’s other political drama, The Newsroom. Watching episodes inspired by real events of the 2010s, I’ve come to a powerful realization:

It was just as awful and beautiful then as it is now.

We humans have a habit of “Chicken Littling” everything. And while today’s world holds crises that are urgent and unique—climate change, for example—it doesn’t mean past eras were less fraught or less full of potential. Human history has always been hard. That’s part of life on earth.

The good news? We keep going.

Imperfectly, yes, and not without heartache, injustice, or hardship—and for some, the burdens are heavier and the road far less fair. Yet somehow, even in the hardest times, we find ways to persist and make things better, together.

This season of difficulty will pass, too. Holding onto this perspective helps me see our current moment differently. As a longtime guide once said:

Life is not about you; you are about life.

Or, put another way—keep going.

Striving for calm isn’t about apathy, resignation, or ignoring the pressing global challenges we face. We each have a role in making the world more habitable and just. But in the midst of our individual and collective struggles, grounding ourselves allows us to bring greater value to the spaces we influence.

These chaotic times don’t have to be a test of your resilience; they can be an invitation to cultivate small, meaningful acts of calm. From this place, you’re more equipped to create impact.

As the saying goes, ‘You can’t give what you don’t have.’

Calm isn’t just a reprieve—it’s where true impact begins.

Ambition, Re-imagined Survey

Over the course of our year long exploration into ambition, I want to better understand how we’re all thinking, feeling and experiencing ambition in our lives and work.

And so, I ask that you take a few minutes to complete this short, anonymous survey to help me offer better and more relevant insights as we proceed.

I’d be very grateful!

Leader Links

A curated collection of links worth clicking.

— How one therapist is coping with election anxiety by

Amber Groomes,Ph.D.

I am suggesting that we stay in the moment. This election is happening and we must radically accept that. Acceptance does not mean approval or appreciation. It means acknowledging that there are some parts of the present moment that we cannot change. This is our work. It is frightening. 

Anticipating and ruminating about every frightening, “Handmaid's Tale”-esq possibility does not serve us. It might completely overwhelm us. And of course, the physical, emotional, social, and financial consequences of another Trump presidency will not impact us all equally. Those who are most vulnerable need those of us who are safer, more well-resourced, and more protected to keep our cool. They need us to stay well enough so that we do not tune out, numb out, and shut down to their pain, unwilling to do the uncomfortable work of staying aware and engaged. 

— “How do I keep going?” via one of my favourite Substacks,

Human Stuff

— Israel-Palestine Conflict Resource List 2024 — a comprehensive bibliography of resources to help us all become more informed citizens

— How to rest when you are stressed via

The House of Rest

— Pre-holiday election de-stress yoga challenge via

Life (un)Learned

— Stress Less series on NPR, including “Are political disagreements stressing you out? Here are tips to bridge the divide.”

— John Green, author of one of my favourite books, The Anthropocene Reviewed, posted this on TikTok and Instagram two years ago and it continues to stay with me. Here’s a link to the full poem as well.

— This was a great, genuine conversation about politics and leadership. (Yes, I know BB is imperfect, but I appreciated Harris’ clarity and care throughout)

— Check out my friend Victoria’s podcast, Stop Stressing Me Out

— I shared this last week, but going to keep it in here for good measure. An election sanity mediation from Tara Brach to get you through.

Work with me

If you’re looking to grow as a leader, let’s chat.

Being a leader is sometimes lonely, oftentimes challenging work. Especially right now.

People look to you for answers on complex (and not-so-complex) problems all day long. Whether they be clients, staff, the Executive Leadership Team or your community-at-large, it can get overwhelming to be on call for everyone else.

I’m your confidante, your expert guide, your cheerleader, your accountability partner, and your safe place to share the ups and downs of your life and leadership.

I’ll be the person that helps you cool down before you respond to feedback or a hard conversation, and I’ll help you find the words to communicate with clarity and confidence. I’ll help you problem-solve, re-imagine and plan for what’s next.

And I’ll hold your feet to the fire when you find yourself over-thinking, procrastinating or stuck in the mud.

I’ve got space in my calendar for a couple of new clients starting in June. If you’d like to explore working together, I’d love to chat. There are two main ways to work with me:

1. Leadership Coaching — 3, 6 or 9 month engagements

2. On Demand Voxer Coaching — monthly as needed

Want to chat? Book a quick chat with me or hit reply and we’ll figure out if coaching is right for you.

1. This is entirely unrelated to this essay, but do any of my GenX readers remember the deep-seated fear we all had of quicksand? Why? Where did this originate? I remember playing in a park with a friend, was filled with wet mud. We sank about 4-5 inches down into the mud and you’d swear I thought it was the end. What an odd core memory to still have 40 years later…