The past few weeks have been heavy. Every time I open my phone, it feels like another wave of fear, violence, or heartbreak comes crashing through the headlines. Political violence is on the rise. The Supreme Court upheld a ruling rooted in racial profiling. There have been more school shootings. A public assassination. And most recently, the horrifying lynching of a Black student, Demartravion “Trey” Reed, in Mississippi.
I catch myself whispering under my breath: What the actual f* is happening?*
Maybe you’ve felt the same way—confused, angry, afraid, numb, or simply overwhelmed. We are living in uncertain, chaotic times, and the weight of it all can feel unbearable.
And if I’m being honest with you, I know my own default pattern when things get hard: I pull back. I self-isolate. I stop showing up for the things that bring me joy and fill me up. I fold into the pain because trauma taught me a long time ago how to be comfortable living in it.
There’s a quote I love that captures this so well:
“You’re not healing to be able to handle trauma, pain, anxiety, or depression—you’re used to those. You’re healing to be able to handle joy, and to accept happiness back into your life.”
That truth pierces me every time I read it. Because when the world feels chaotic, my instinct is to turn away from joy. To resist ease. To pull back from my practice. And yet, that is exactly the moment I need yoga the most.
The Temptation to Withdraw
If your instinct in times like these is to withdraw, to curl inward, to stop showing up—you are not alone. It’s human. It’s protective. And if you’ve lived through trauma, it may even feel like the safest option. I know it does for me.
But here’s the thing: when we stop showing up for our practice, we stop showing up for ourselves. We stop feeding the part of us that is resilient, creative, loving, and whole. And the world desperately needs that part of us right now.
Returning to your mat isn’t just self-care. It’s nervous system repair. It’s reminding your body that you don’t have to live in constant vigilance. And when you do that for yourself, you ripple that groundedness outward. Because every time you regulate your own nervous system, you are softening the grip of fear and cultivating the kind of presence this world needs more of.
Why Returning to the Mat Matters
Yoga is not just about movement or stretching. It is a practice of returning—again and again—to ourselves, to our breath, to the present moment. And when the world feels like it’s spinning out of control, yoga gives us a way to root down.
From a nervous system perspective, this is everything. When we are bombarded with horrifying headlines, our bodies go into survival mode. For some of us, that looks like fight or flight—rage, panic, restlessness. For others, it looks like freeze or collapse—numbness, exhaustion, withdrawal. Polyvagal theory teaches us that these responses are not wrong or broken; they are our body’s natural way of trying to protect us.
But staying stuck in those states can be draining, even harmful, over time. That’s where returning to the mat becomes a lifeline. Yoga gives us tools to regulate—through breath, through mindful movement, through presence, through community—that help the nervous system shift out of survival mode and back into connection.
When I step onto my mat, I’m not just stretching or moving through shapes. I am teaching my body that safety is possible again. I am signaling to my nervous system: It’s okay to come out of survival mode. It’s okay to soften. It’s okay to feel.
At its core, yoga reminds us that we are not powerless. We are not separate. We have the ability to respond differently.
Small Ways to Return
Coming back to your practice doesn’t always have to mean an hour-long flow or a perfectly quiet meditation. In times of chaos, small returns can be enough.
For me, it sometimes looks like one conscious breath before I open the news app. Other times it’s five minutes of movement to shake off the heaviness that’s lodged in my chest. Some days, all I can do is place my hand on my heart and whisper, I am here. And yes, there are days I roll out my mat and end up just sitting there.
Even small gestures matter. Here are some ways you can return to yourself, even when life feels overwhelming:
- Grounding with the senses: Take a moment to notice five things you can see, four things you can touch, three things you can hear, two things you can smell, and one thing you can taste.
- Breath reset: Try a few rounds of box breathing—inhale for four, hold for four, exhale for four, hold for four. It’s a quick way to calm your nervous system.
- Movement mini-break: Stretch your arms overhead, shake out your hands, roll your shoulders, or sway gently side to side—just enough to wake up your body and release tension.
- Heart-centered pause: Place a hand on your chest, close your eyes, and take a few deep, slow breaths while silently saying, I am here.
- Restorative position: Lie down with your legs up the wall or curl into child’s pose for a few minutes, letting your body soften into support.
It’s not about perfection. It’s about returning, again and again, to the truth of who you are and the values you want to embody.
Choosing Joy as Resistance
That quote I shared earlier stays with me: You’re not healing to handle trauma—you’re healing to handle joy.
And joy, I believe, is a form of nervous system resilience too. When we allow ourselves to experience joy—whether in a belly laugh, in music that moves us, or in the deep exhale of savasana—we are telling our bodies that it is safe to feel more than fear.
Joy is not frivolous. It is not naïve. It is not ignoring the pain of the world. Joy is resistance. Joy is reclamation. Joy says: You will not take away my capacity to feel, to love, to connect, to hope.
Every time we choose to return to joy—even in the smallest ways—we are saying no to systems that thrive on fear and despair. We are refusing to let chaos define us.
Coming Back to Yourself
The world is heavy right now. And we cannot control the headlines that show up on our phones. But we can choose to return to our mats. To our breath. To our foundations. To joy.
Yoga doesn’t make the chaos disappear. But it does give us a way to stay rooted in the middle of it, to respond with clarity, compassion, and courage.
So if you, like me, have felt the pull to withdraw, consider this your invitation: roll out your mat. Take one breath. Come back to yourself.
Because every time we return to practice, we are not only healing ourselves—we are helping to heal the world.
With love and compassion,
Mandy
