Coping in a World That Feels Broken
- Michaela Verby
- 6 days ago
- 3 min read

We are increasingly confronted with the reality that those in positions of power, whether governments or corporate leaders, are not acting in service of humanity. The world around us does not always feel guided by care, and that realisation can be deeply unsettling. It can leave us feeling fearful, hopeless and unsure of where to place our trust.
So how do we live with that? How do we create a sense of peace, or even joy, when so much feels misaligned or beyond our control? I don’t claim to have a universal answer but I can share what has helped me navigate this.
My Journey with Hopelessness
For me, it began with first allowing space for my hopelessness. Rather than pushing it away, I chose to meet it. I noticed how my younger, more idealistic self, who once believed wholeheartedly in collective change, had gradually lost faith. That shift felt significant and when I traced it back, I returned to COVID. During this time I had believed that facing a shared global threat might draw society closer together. Instead, I witnessed division, fear-driven stock piling and a lack of social responsibility; this challenged something fundamental in me.
The hopelessness that followed was painful, and at times, it still is. There are moments where it feels as though our systems, and even individual people, are moving in directions that harm rather than heal. While I know there is goodness in the world, it doesn’t always feel sufficient to counterbalance what we see. This isn’t pessimism for the sake of it, it’s an honest reflection of something many of us carry.
So I began to shift my focus toward my immediate reality. Despite my disillusionment with wider systems, I noticed that I was still living in quiet resistance to them. My values hadn’t disappeared, they were present in how I showed up each day. In the time I spend connecting with people in my community, how I care for the planet and the way I offer and receive love within my personal relationships. Also in the therapy room where we often examine and breakdown harmful political and power structures. In many ways, I realised I was already living the kind of world I once hoped to see, just on a smaller, more intimate scale. I also saw that I wasn’t alone in that. The people around me were doing the same.
My Response to the World We Live In
So when everything feels overwhelming, I zoom in. I return to what is tangible, relational and real. In my immediate world, I can see care, accountability and a sense of shared humanity. I can feel that people are trying, in their own ways, to contribute something meaningful.
It leaves me wondering what might happen if more of us did this. If, instead of becoming paralysed by the scale of what feels broken, we invested deeply in what matters within our own corners of the world. Perhaps change doesn’t begin with global movements but in the quiet, consistent ways we choose to live.
Of course, I know it’s not that simple. For some, focusing inward and building a world that feels “right” can mean something more self-serving than connected. However, what we might call “selfishness” often develops as a response to a world that feels unsafe or demanding. I believe it’s less about people being inherently uncaring, and more about how they’ve learned to survive- perhaps this is a topic for my next blog post.
So this isn’t a prescription for how to live. It’s simply an offering; a way of gently meeting hopelessness with something more grounding. For me, turning toward my immediate world has brought a sense of hope back into reach. It has reminded me that care still exists, connection is possible and small, intentional ways of living can feel quietly powerful.
Maybe you will find something similar, if you choose to look there too.



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