Fear is not a stranger. It walks with us daily, sometimes as a helpful guide — the kind that warns us not to step too close to the edge or reminds us to lock our doors at night. However, there is another kind of fear that looms larger, more oppressive. It creeps in unannounced, catching in our throats, constricting our breath, whispering that nothing is safe, that everything might unravel.
Right now, many of us are carrying this second kind of fear — not just for ourselves, but for the world. In the United States, we wake up wondering what fresh dilemma might unfold. Will another child be separated from their family by an immigration policy too blunt to recognize humanity? Will someone we’ve known for decades — a neighbor, a friend, a teacher — be detained or deported? We tune into the news and are devastated by images and stories from Gaza, of children who have done nothing to deserve the suffering inflicted on them. We read about Sudan, where families flee through gunfire, leaving behind everything they’ve known. According to UNHCR, over 130 million people are now forcibly displaced — a number too vast to comprehend, yet each person part of the same human story.
What do we do with this fear — not just the personal kind, but the planetary kind?
How do we respond when we feel helpless, overwhelmed, or paralyzed by grief and uncertainty?
One answer lies in shifting our relationship to fear itself. Through practices like Cognitively Based Compassion Training (CBCT), a joint program the Charter will introduce this fall in conjunction with Emory University's Center for Contemplative Science and Compassion-Based Ethics, we learn that fear, while real and valid, does not need to control our response. CBCT doesn’t ask us to deny fear, but to meet it with awareness, understanding, and compassion — starting with ourselves.
Here are a few practices from CBCT that can help us find steadiness in the storm:
- Stabilize the Mind – When fear floods us, our mind scatters. Grounding practices like focused breathing or attention training give us space to pause. This pause is everything — it helps us avoid reacting with panic and opens the door to intentional response.
- Develop Insight into Interdependence – CBCT invites us to see how deeply interconnected we are. The suffering of someone in Sudan or Gaza is not separate from us. Their fear awakens our own. But this insight doesn’t have to be crushing — it can be energizing. If we are connected, then what we do matters. Our compassion can ripple outward in ways that matter.
- Extend Warm-Heartedness – Compassion isn’t pity. It’s the sincere wish that others be free from suffering and to find the courage to act, even when the problem seems too big. When we feel helpless, we can choose one small thing — to listen more deeply, to donate, to advocate, to speak truth. These are not small gestures when done with a full heart.
At the same time, systems thinking can help us understand fear in a broader context. Fear flourishes in fragmented systems — when we see ourselves as isolated individuals or our problems as disconnected events. Systems thinking teaches us to look at patterns and relationships, to see how policies, histories, economies, and cultures interweave.
When we engage systems thinking with compassion, we begin to ask different questions:
- What systems are sustaining the fear and injustice we see?
- Where are the leverage points — the small, smart interventions that could create a shift?
- Who else is already working toward change, and how can we support them?
Fear tells us we are alone. Compassion tells us we are not.
So what do we do when fear overcomes us?
We breathe. We listen. We remember our interdependence. We extend compassion — not just to others, but to ourselves, because it takes courage to stay open in a world of wounds.
And we act — not because we are fearless, but because our love is greater than our fear.
With warm regards,
Marilyn
