Finding Our Way Back to Care in Overwhelming Times

Written by Radhule Weininger

We've all felt it, haven't we? That moment when you're scrolling through news about wars in Gaza, Sudan, and Ukraine, watching our politics tear communities apart—something inside just stops. Your heart feels too heavy, your mind too scattered, and caring feels like more than you can handle. You're not broken; yet you're experiencing what we might call “compassion shut down.” This, again, often leads to "compassion failure."

When Our Hearts Can't Keep Up

Think of compassion failure like any other system breakdown. Just as a heart can become too weak to pump blood effectively or kidneys can no longer filter toxins, our emotional system can become so overloaded that it simply shuts down. We stop being able to feel for others who are hurting and withdraw in paralysis. The overwhelm wins.

Maybe you've noticed this about yourself or the people you care about. We tune out the news because it feels "too much." We distract ourselves endlessly. Those of us trying to stay engaged in activism often find ourselves burning out, watching hard-won progress get undone, and wondering if any of it matters. When we check out for our own protection, we leave the field to those who aren't necessarily leading with kindness.

The Surprising Path Forward

Here's where teachers like Joanna Macy and John Makransky present something that may initially seem counterintuitive: rather than shielding ourselves from these overwhelming feelings, what if we learned to engage with them differently?

I know it sounds like the last thing you'd want to do when you're already drowning. But they're suggesting something akin to homeopathy for the heart: the remedy might actually be found within the very feelings we're trying to escape.

Joanna Macy teaches us "The Work that Reconnects," which begins not with diving into pain, but with gratitude. When we can genuinely appreciate what is good and beautiful in our lives, we create roots strong enough to handle the tougher challenges. From that rooted place, we can be present with our pain instead of running from it. Something shifts when we do that; we begin to realize how much we may love and care about this world. Then we start seeing with what Joanna calls "new eyes."

John Makransky proposes a similar path, teaching practices that help us open our hearts as we connect with a Field of Care. The Field of Care is the ground of being that is always present on a subtle level. We can learn to feel it when we are quiet and pay attention to it. Once we become accustomed to experiencing the Field of Care aspect of reality, we can understand and welcome our feelings, including our anxieties, worries, and doubts. Those feelings are now held in something bigger, stronger, and indestructible, providing a deep security that has always been there, even if we were unaware of it. From this place of profound wholeness, we can be open to the pain of others.

On this subtle level, we are all connected, not merely isolated, fearful individuals trying to survive. Our entire perspective then shifts. Now we can even imagine what it would mean to wish well to those who are suffering. Instead of curling up and shutting down, we feel the power of envisioning what health and flourishing could look like. Then, the river of compassion and hope begins to flow again.

I am reminded of Martin Luther King, Jr.’s “I had a dream” and John Lennon’s “Imagine.” There is great power in the ability to envision a better future. That is why Lennon’s song and King’s speech are still so powerful to this day. We envision this better future not only for ourselves but also for those in need and for our planet. Then, what truly matters becomes clear.

A Practice You Can Try

Here is a practice I learned from meditation teacher John Makransky that might help you tune into the Field of Care aspect of reality. With that foundation, you can be present with what is difficult.

Begin by settling into your body. Feel the weight of your body and how gravity connects you to the ground beneath. Allow your awareness to fill your entire body, from the soles of your feet to the crown of your head.

Notice your breath as your entire body expands with each inhale and relaxes with each exhale. If your mind wanders, gently release those thoughts and return to the rhythm of your breathing.

Now, think about your Field of Care. This might be the presence of a loved one—someone you have known in your life, in whose presence you feel completely seen and accepted just as you are. Perhaps your Field of Care is a religious figure or a feeling of sacredness that resonates with you. It might be a special place in nature where you feel at home and like you belong. Maybe it's an animal companion, a tree, or a landscape where you can be yourself, unguarded and cared for.

Choose what feels most alive to you and imagine yourself in this presence of warmth and acceptance. Notice how this feels in your body and heart. Open yourself to these qualities of care and kindness, allowing them to infuse your entire being.

When you're ready, think of a challenging emotion you've been experiencing lately—anxiety about something you need to do, feeling overwhelmed, frustrated, sad, or frightened. Pay attention to how this feeling resides in your body, not just in your mind.

Now, recalling your field of care, allow this difficult emotion to be present like a friend quietly sitting with a troubled friend. Don't try to change or solve anything. Simply be present with warmth and acceptance, like two friends resting together in the warmth of a summer afternoon.

You can enhance your practice by recalling a person or group that is currently suffering. Your compassion and well-wishing can create a field of care for them. However, instead of getting trapped in their suffering, envision them thriving. Picture your warmth radiating out to them.

Now, let go of any effort or doing. Simply rest back into this spacious acceptance, allowing your heart and mind to trust and relax. Let everything be like snowflakes falling on a warm ocean—settling naturally into the background of open, luminous awareness.

Rest in this radiance, embracing this warmth for yourself and all beings in our beautiful yet wounded world.

Staying in It Together

The goal isn't to become immune to the world's pain—it's to learn how to feel deeply without breaking. By practicing presence with both joy and sorrow, and by remembering that we're all in this together, we discover ways to remain engaged in a way that genuinely sustains us.

These are unprecedented times, and we need each other more than ever. By gently opening our hearts and making space for all of our feelings, even the overwhelming ones, we can shift from paralysis to action. This action now emerges from genuine love rather than frantic urgency. We trust in our depth and the unlimited potential for depth in others.

The world needs our care, and we depend on each other to sustain the strength of our hearts.