How Not to Lose Yourself in a Disorienting World
— Early September, 2026
Written by Francine Van den Acker — Founder of SoulRise Global
All it takes is opening a newspaper or scrolling through the news on our phones to feel that something in the world has cracked at a fundamental level.
Politics seems increasingly removed from the everyday concerns of ordinary people. Work has become precarious, the cost of living continues to rise, and the economic security that once appeared attainable to previous generations now feels far less accessible. Temperatures are rising, the seasons are changing, and extreme weather events are gradually becoming part of our normality. Around us, we see war, poverty, migration, inequality and a growing difficulty in imagining the future with confidence.
Relationships, too, seem to have become more complex. We can reach anyone within seconds, yet we often feel lonely, distrustful or emotionally exhausted. We have more ways to communicate, but not necessarily a greater capacity to understand one another, build lasting bonds or remain present when things become difficult.
In this climate, anxiety, anger and helplessness are natural responses. They are not signs of personal weakness. We are trying to find our bearings in a reality that is changing rapidly, while many of the reference points on which we built our idea of the future are losing their stability.
The question, therefore, is not how to convince ourselves that everything will be all right. That would be unconvincing and even disrespectful towards the very real difficulties so many people are facing.
A more honest question is this:
How can we remain humane, clear-minded and constructive when the world appears to be falling apart?
When knowing everything leaves us feeling unable to do anything
We are exposed to an amount of suffering that the human mind struggles to contain.
Within a matter of minutes, we may witness a war, a flood, a political crisis, mass redundancies and the despair of thousands of people. Each event enters through the same small screen and reaches directly into our daily lives, often without leaving us the time we need to understand or process what we have seen.
Being informed matters. It enables us to participate, take a position and resist indifference. Yet when information becomes an uninterrupted stream of emergencies, our minds begin to experience danger as constant and all-encompassing.
We are aware of more and more problems, but we do not possess an equivalent power to solve them. It is precisely this imbalance that gives rise to helplessness.
We may then persuade ourselves that, because we cannot change everything, nothing we do has any value. Gradually, we lose energy, initiative and trust. The problem no longer remains outside us; it begins to occupy the inner space from which we need to think, decide and act.
Protecting this space does not mean turning away from reality. It means preventing the most painful part of reality from becoming the only reality we are still able to see.
The world is also full of people who care, educate, welcome, invent and rebuild. It contains relationships that endure, communities that organise themselves and individuals who quietly make a difference in someone else’s life every day. These realities rarely receive the same attention as tragedy, but they exist and belong to the very same world.
Reality is not only what is breaking. It is also what continues to be built.
Being constructive is not the same as thinking positively
When faced with a difficult situation, optimism says, “Everything will be all right.”
A constructive attitude begins with a more practical question:
What can I do, starting from reality as it is?
It does not ask us to ignore fear, conceal pain or perform enthusiasm. It asks us not to allow those emotions to make every decision on our behalf.
We can be worried about the future and, at the same time, prepare ourselves more effectively. We can lose a job without losing the skills and experience we have built over the years. We can be disappointed by a relationship without concluding that every form of love is destined to fail. We can recognise what is not working in society without becoming colder, harsher or more indifferent ourselves.
Being constructive means reclaiming the part of our power that still belongs to us: not the power to control events, but the power to choose our response.
That choice may not immediately alter our external circumstances. It does, however, change our position within them: instead of remaining paralysed spectators, we can become active participants in our own lives again.
Every season of life carries a different kind of strength
Age also profoundly shapes the way we experience uncertainty.
At the beginning of adult life, the world can feel like a place in which everything still has to be achieved. Yet that very openness can create pressure: finding the right work, becoming independent, choosing a direction and building stable relationships in a context that offers few certainties. In this season, being constructive may mean giving ourselves permission to explore, learn and change direction without interpreting every hesitation as failure. We do not need to know the entire route already; it is enough to take the next step with awareness.
During the years of building and responsibility, we can find ourselves caught between work, family, financial commitments and personal expectations. We are still young enough to want a great deal, yet sufficiently involved in life to know that every choice comes at a price. In this phase, being constructive may mean no longer trying to carry everything alone, reconsidering priorities that have outlived their purpose and recognising that a full life need not be an overloaded one.
Then come seasons in which what we have built begins to change shape. Children become independent, a relationship may end, and work may no longer provide security or meaning. The body changes, and time is experienced differently. What once seemed distant suddenly becomes present.
This stage may contain genuine loss, but also a new freedom. At last, we can ask ourselves not only what we are expected to do, but what we still wish to experience. The wisdom accumulated over the years becomes a resource, provided we do not use it only to explain why something is no longer possible.
In maturity, society often speaks primarily of giving things up, slowing down and coming to the end of something. But growing older does not mean withdrawing from life. It can mean entering it with a deeper sense of what is essential.
At this age, perhaps we no longer need to prove everything, pursue every opportunity or adapt ourselves to people and situations that do not reflect who we are. We can choose more carefully where to invest our time, pass on what we have learned, begin a more authentic project or build relationships rooted in genuine presence rather than appearances.
Every season brings something that can no longer be recovered, but also something we did not possess before: autonomy, experience, discernment, inner freedom or a greater ability to recognise what truly matters.
At any age, the question is not only: “What have I lost?”
It is also:
“What possibility belongs specifically to the season of life I am living now?”
Bringing the world back to a scale on which we can act
When every problem appears before us at once, we need to bring our attention back to a human scale.
We cannot control the global economy, but we can understand our own situation more clearly, reconsider certain priorities and develop a useful skill. We cannot solve the climate crisis alone, but we can change some of our habits and support responsible collective choices. We cannot eradicate poverty, but we can refuse indifference and contribute to a concrete initiative. We cannot prevent every person from disappointing us, but we can learn to recognise the relationships that nourish us and those that deplete us.
What we do within our own sphere may seem small beside the scale of these problems. Yet the world is not shaped by major institutions alone. It is also shaped by the way millions of people work, educate, choose, consume, speak and care for one another.
Being kind in an aggressive environment is not weakness. Preserving our integrity in a confused system is not naïveté. Continuing to create something useful in an age of disillusionment is not a waste of time.
Through each of these choices, we decide what kind of presence we want to be in the world.
From concern to a personal strategy
Being constructive requires more than good intentions. We need a simple strategy that prevents us from scattering all our energy across problems over which we have no influence.
We can begin by dividing our concerns into three areas.
The first contains what we cannot control directly: wars, government decisions, the direction of the economy, other people’s behaviour and the passage of time. We can stay informed, express our position and participate, but we must recognise the limits of our personal power. Continually struggling in our minds against what we cannot govern consumes energy without creating movement.
The second area includes what we can influence: the people with whom we collaborate, the initiatives we support, and the way we vote, consume, communicate and participate in our communities. Here, our power is not absolute, but it is real.
The third concerns what depends directly on us: how we organise our day, what information we allow into our minds, how we use the money available to us, which skills we develop, which relationships receive our time and what small commitment we decide to pursue.
Rebuilding must begin in this third area.
We do not need to transform our entire life overnight. It is more useful to identify one practical action for each area that currently needs our attention.
For our inner balance, this might mean limiting news consumption to one or two designated times a day and choosing reliable sources, rather than remaining connected to an endless stream of alarms.
For our professional future, it might mean setting aside a few hours each week for a focused search, a new skill or a project capable of creating opportunities in the medium term.
For our relationships, it might mean ending an ambiguity, asking for an honest conversation or investing more deeply in the people who demonstrate presence and reciprocity.
For our participation in the wider world, it could mean choosing one concrete cause to support, rather than feeling personally responsible for every problem at once.
Finally, for our personal future, it is valuable to define a project that is not born of fear. It need not be grand: a journey, a course, a creative pursuit, a professional change or a new habit. It must, however, offer us something to move towards, because a life organised solely around what we want to avoid will inevitably begin to shrink.
The future has not yet been fully written
When we are frightened, it is easy to imagine the future as the inevitable continuation of everything that is not working today. But the future is not shaped solely by crises, political decisions or economic movements. It is also shaped by the responses people choose to make.
It is shaped by those who educate, care, welcome, create, teach and begin again; by those who, after a loss, refuse to turn pain into bitterness; by those who use their experience to open a path for others; and by those who continue to act with humanity when cynicism would be easier.
We may not be able to know that everything will be all right. We can, however, decide not to contribute to what is going wrong.
When the world seems to be falling apart, being constructive does not mean denying reality. It means looking at it clearly, recognising our own sphere of action and asking ourselves:
What part of this reality can I help to improve, starting today and from the season of life I am living now?
The answer may seem small. But it will be concrete, possible and ours.
And that is precisely where a new direction can begin.
When everything outside feels uncertain, rediscover your inner compass
We cannot control every change in the world, but we can understand more clearly who we are, what truly matters to us and what position we wish to take in response to what is happening.
Atlas of the Soul is a six-session individual journey designed to help you explore your values, recognise the resources you already possess and transform them into clearer criteria for your choices.
It does not offer ready-made answers, nor does it ask you to ignore reality. It helps you create a personal map for navigating it without losing yourself.
When the world is constantly changing, knowing your own direction becomes a source of stability.
Discover Atlas of the Soul
Important Notice
This article is intended for information, personal development and reflection. It does not constitute medical, psychological or psychotherapeutic advice and is not a substitute for qualified professional care. For further information, please refer to our Terms & Conditions, section 3.5.