When the World Feels Unbearable
“Famine is not a word. It is people with no food. And here I am— hearing the hum of my fridge. Opening a refrigerator full of food. Wondering what it means to eat while others cannot.”
Mindfulness is not clarity.
Not calm.
Not escape.
It is the ache of presence when nothing makes sense.
The breath that keeps happening even when you wish it wouldn’t.
This is not a lesson.
Not a reframe.
Not a call to be okay with what is.
It’s a reckoning.
With how much we’re holding.
And how much we’re pretending not to.
There is famine in Gaza.
As of August 2025, it’s official.
Not just predicted.
Not warned of.
Declared.
Children are starving.
Entire families erased.
And I am sitting here
with a fridge full of food
and the kind of safety that feels unbearable.
It’s in the headlines and it’s in the body.
Famine, war, collapse—rendered in pixels, then buried in flesh.
We scroll past what we cannot hold.
And hold, silently, what we cannot scroll past.
My jaw is tight.
My chest won’t open.
My spine curls forward as if trying to disappear.
This is not burnout.
This is grief in real time.
I keep waiting for someone to tell me how to live in this world
without numbing or performing or collapsing under it.
But there is no map for this.
Only the slow, nauseating return
to breath
to body
to the impossible contradiction of being both safe and shattered.
I hate how well I eat.
How easy it is to sleep.
How far away I feel from the pain I can’t stop thinking about.
This is not a confession.
It’s a refusal.
To use privilege as anesthesia.
To use mindfulness as escape.
To use language as a way out.
There is no spiritual lesson in genocide.
No awakening in starvation.
No moral to this moment.
I don’t want to be useful right now.
I want to be human.
Which means feeling what can’t be fixed
and refusing to repackage it as clarity.
This is the practice.
Not the one on the cushion.
The one in the ache.
The one in the breath that doesn’t settle.
The one that remembers:
We don’t owe anyone serenity.
Only presence.
And presence, in a world like this,
is the most radical thing we can bear.
Always remember...Just Breathe!
-The Unscripted Mind
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Let it spark a question in someone else.
And if you want to keep wandering these fault lines,
the longer work lives on the blog—waiting for you.