Peace in a Nervous System on Fire

A Letter on Restoring a Sense of Safety in Geopolitical Insecurity

By Kolbe Young | Catholic Somatic Psychotherapist

If you’ve been feeling overwhelmed, obsessive, powerless, or avoidant in light of the news…
You’re not alone. And you’re not broken.

This letter is for the part of you that’s frantically checking updates,
And the part that wants to shut it all out.
For the part that aches with helplessness,
And the part that quietly wonders if anything you do matters.

You're not meant to carry the weight of the world in your nervous system.
And yet—you are made to care.

The Spiritual Crisis of Suffering

In the face of war, injustice, or disaster, we aren’t just encountering external events.
We’re confronted with deeper spiritual and human questions:

• What does it mean to suffer in a world like this?

• Where is God in all of this?

• And how do I stay tender and present… without shutting down?

These are holy questions. But they can’t be answered from a place of panic.
They require presence, rootedness, time.

The body helps us begin.

Our pain isn’t abstract—it shows up in our blood, our breathing, our frozen shoulders, and racing thoughts.
The body is where we come to terms with the limits of our power… and the dignity of our presence.

What Peace Actually Means

Peace isn’t passivity.
And it isn’t frantic engagement, either.

Psychologically, peace is an integration of the self—a reconnection of what trauma and overwhelm have torn apart.

In the whole human person, peace looks like:

• The anxious part no longer bearing it all alone

• The avoidant part being welcomed back without shame

• The protective parts learning they can rest in God

• The grieving parts given time, breath, and reverence

Peace is when our body, mind, soul, and desires are re-ordered toward relationship and communion—both with ourselves and with God.

It’s not the absence of conflict.
It’s the restoration of connection.

Boundaries, News, and the Body as Limit

We live in a world that violates our proportions.
There’s always another tragedy, another demand, another headline asking you to care, fix, or respond immediately.

But you are not God.

And trying to live as if you are—omnipresent, omniscient, endlessly available—is not virtuous. It’s exhausting.

Your body is a holy boundary.
It reminds you: you are held in time and space. You eat. You rest. You bleed. You die.

And paradoxically, this limitation is where your freedom begins.
Because once you grieve what you can’t do, you’re freed to give yourself generously to what you can.

This isn’t avoidance.
It’s honest, prudent self-gift.
It’s how you keep joy alive in a suffering world.

An Incarnational Practice for Peace

This is a practice you can return to whenever the world feels too heavy to hold.

It’s rooted in somatic therapy, contemplative spirituality, and the quiet strength of Mary—who bore the Christ in her body, and stood at the foot of the Cross without fleeing.

1. Ground with Breath + Marian Touch

Place one hand on your heart, one on your belly—like Mary holding her womb or her crucified Son.

Let your hands say to your nervous system:
You are here. You are held. You are not alone.

Inhale for 4… hold for 4… exhale for 6.
Repeat gently.

Whisper as you breathe:
“Mother Mary, hold what I cannot. Jesus, ground me in Your peace.”

2. Move with Mercy – Attune to Your State

Let the body respond—not to fix, but to honor where you are.

Choose the movement that fits your state:

• Agitation or anxiety (fight):
   → Press palms together like a prayer. Exhale with a deep sigh.
   → Roll your shoulders slowly.

• Overwhelm or restlessness (flight):
   → Shake your hands and feet.
   → Rock side to side like a mother swaying her child.

• Collapse or numbness (freeze):
   → Wrap yourself in a self-hug. Breathe into your back.
   → Hum softly to bring warmth back in.

• Grief or shame (fawn):
   → Kneel, sway, or gently trace your collarbones.
   → Say aloud: “This, too, is seen. This, too, is loved.”

3. Stillness – Ponder with Mary

Close your eyes.
Imagine Mary beside you—not rushing, not afraid, just present.
Let her hold the ache with you.

Whisper:
“May my body become a sanctuary of peace—for myself and for others.”

Final Word

You don’t need to solve every crisis to begin healing.
You only need to return—to the breath, the body, the Presence.

Peace doesn’t begin by numbing out or staying online.
It begins when you root yourself in what’s real, merciful, and true.

With you in the reorientation,
Kolbe