Finding Peace in a World on Fire
My heart is grieving the split in our nation and the hateful, divisive comment sections that erupted in light of the recent political violence. Regardless of how anyone felt about Charlie Kirk, the sheer volume of venom online is crushing. I scrolled through comments that weren’t just disagreements, but open celebrations of death, and it pierced me.
And so I made a choice: I didn’t add my voice to that noise. Not because I don’t feel anger, sadness, or frustration, but because I’ve realized something about myself—I have to protect my own peace.
Sitting With the Distress
There are days when the weight of all the hatred and violence feels unbearable. Maybe you’ve felt it too—that tightness in the chest, the despair that whispers, What’s the point?
I’ve found myself spiraling in these moments, trying to argue with strangers in my head, trying to solve the unsolvable problem of human cruelty. But every time, it leaves me more distressed, more powerless.
That’s when I realize: the question for me isn’t How do we fix the world? The question is, How do I keep from drowning in it? How can I find peace in all this distress?
Recognizing the Poisons
The first step has been recognizing the poisons that live inside me. Buddhism calls them the three poisons:
Ignorance: Believing that other people’s words or actions control my peace.
Greed: Grasping for control—wanting the comments to stop, wanting people to see it my way, wanting the world to finally “get it.”
Hatred: That surge of rage when I read cruel words, the quick fantasy of someone “getting what they deserve.”
They don’t just exist “out there.” They live in me too. And if I’m not careful, I start watering those same seeds with my attention and energy.
A Tree in the Storm
I picture myself as a tree in the middle of all this chaos. My roots are my beliefs. My trunk is my thought life. My branches are my emotions responding to the storm around me. And my fruit—the words I say, the choices I make—are what the world actually receives from me.
When poison seeps into my roots, everything else gets distorted. My fruit—my actions—can become bitter, capable of poisoning others in the same way those hateful comments poisoned me.
If I want peace, I have to start with the roots.
The Antidotes we can Practice
Thankfully, there are antidotes to these poisons. We can’t make them disappear entirely, but we can choose which seeds to water.
Wisdom instead of ignorance: I remind myself that people lashing out are often in pain. Happy people don’t go around celebrating death. That reminder keeps me from taking their words personally.
Gratitude instead of greed: Instead of clinging to what I wish people would say or do, I look around at what is steady and good in my life. Gratitude opens my hands and softens my heart.
Loving kindness instead of hatred: This one is the hardest. It doesn’t mean excusing harm. It means reminding myself: this angry commenter is also someone’s child. They, too, are suffering. I can wish for the end of suffering without agreeing with their words.
Small, Daily Practices
So how do I keep from getting swallowed by all the distress? Two practices have helped:
1. The Poison Check-In
At the end of the day, ask yourself:
Where did ignorance show up in me today?
Where did greed grip me?
Where did hatred sneak in?
Then gently ask: What antidote could I have used instead? Wisdom, gratitude, or kindness? This isn’t about shame—it’s about building awareness so I don’t repeat the cycle tomorrow.
2. The Ripple Practice
When feeling overwhelmed, put your hand on your heart and start small:
May I be free from ignorance, greed, and hatred. May I be at peace.
Then expand it outward:
May my family be at peace.
May my community be at peace.
And slowly, I let it ripple further, not because I can change the whole world, but because I can choose what energy I contribute to it.
Choosing Peace, One Moment at a Time
The truth is, I can’t control the world. I can’t stop strangers online from tearing each other apart. I can’t erase the violence or the hatred that keeps resurfacing.
But I can choose peace in myself. I can choose wisdom when ignorance calls. I can choose gratitude when greed tempts me to grasp. I can choose loving kindness when hatred surges.
And every time I choose differently, I create a ripple. Maybe it’s small, maybe it’s unseen—but I know it matters.
Because in the end, peace isn’t a far-off dream. It’s the choice I make right here, in the middle of all the noise, to protect my heart and nurture something gentler.
