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How to Get Grounded In the Face of Uncertainty

How to Get Grounded In the Face of Uncertainty

By Leza Danly
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Coach Leza Danly says regaining our strength is within reach.
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The world feels unsteady right now. Civil norms vanishing overnight. Fear stories woven into the national narrative. A sense that the ground beneath us keeps shifting, leaving us scrambling for something solid to hold onto.

In moments like these, our instinct is often to look outward—to find someone who can make sense of the chaos, to seek reassurance that things will be okay, to wait for the adults in the room to step up and restore order.

But what if the most potent response is to turn inward? What if creating a sense of safety begins not with fixing what’s happening out there, but with tending to the parts of ourselves that are panicking in here?

We Are More Than One

We are multidimensional creatures. We know this because it shows up in our language every day. “Part of me is excited to move to Paris for a new job,” we say, “and another part of me is totally freaked out.”

These aren’t just figures of speech. They’re glimpses into the truth of how our psyche actually works. The different parts of us—the child who felt powerless, the teenager who raged against injustice, the young adult who tried to prove their worth—aren’t simply memories of the past. They’re aspects of our psyche that are operational in the present moment.

And right now, many of these younger parts are activated and afraid.

The current national narrative is triggering panic in the parts of us that once felt victimized or powerless. Our inner child, who learned early that the world wasn’t always safe, is re-experiencing that terror. Our inner teenager, who believed in ideals and fought against hypocrisy, is watching those ideals trampled and feeling that old sense of helplessness and rage.

When these parts are scared, and no one is listening to them, they can grab the reins. We’ve all felt it—the disproportionate reaction to a news headline, the overwhelm that seems bigger than the moment warrants, the sense of being hijacked by feelings that don’t quite match our adult understanding of the situation.

My Unexpected Teacher

For thirty years as a life coach, I’ve worked with clients to reconnect with what I sometimes call the “orphaned selves” within. I saw the magic of this approach regularly, and yet I still sometimes marveled as my clients soothed their scared and lonely inner child, and came to understand the unique fears of the idealistic and rebellious adolescent within. When people could listen to these younger parts with compassion, something shifted. They found more ground to stand on.

Last year, I made a bold leap that brought this home for me in a way I hadn’t expected.

I reclaimed a dream that had both terrified and nagged me for forty-two years. I wrote a one-woman show called Soul Breadcrumbs and performed it for live audiences, giving voice to my younger selves from age seven to seventy. I shared their vulnerable stories, the ones that shaped my life journey from shame to empowerment.

The process wasn’t just about remembering those younger versions of myself or thinking about their experiences. It was about embodying them. I wrote their stories in detail—what they saw, what they felt, what they needed. Then I spent seven months rehearsing, speaking their words aloud every single day until I could inhabit each age completely.

Something profound happened. I didn’t just understand those younger selves—I fell in love with them. The seven-year-old desperately seeking her mother’s approval. The sixteen-year-old wondering if she’d ever be lovable. The young adult trying to find her place in the world.

As I gave them voice, listened deeply, and brought them into the circle of my adult awareness, I found a base of strength I hadn’t experienced before. A sense of alignment. A solid place to stand.

This isn’t about being perfect or fearless. It’s about being whole.

What the World Needs Now

Right now, the world needs adults. Not parents scolding children or authority figures controlling others, but grounded, aligned adults who can meet this moment with clarity and courage. And we can’t show up as adults if we’re constantly being derailed by the panicked parts within us that are grabbing the reins.

Those younger voices have important contributions to make. Our inner child’s innocence and wonder. Our inner teenager’s passion for justice and refusal to accept hypocrisy. These are gifts. But not when they’re panicked and running the show.

The solid base of adult authority we need comes from inner alignment—when all our selves have a voice, and feel heard, seen, and loved.

We can take steps to create that alignment. We can pause when we feel overwhelmed and ask: Which part of me is activated right now? What does that younger self need from me?

Sometimes the scared child just needs to hear: I’ve got you. You’re safe. I’m the adult now, and I won’t abandon you.

Sometimes the outraged teenager needs to hear: I see the injustice too. Your passion matters. And I’m going to channel it wisely.

When we tend to these inner selves with compassion, something remarkable happens. We stop being buffeted about by every external event. We find solid ground within.

Standing in What’s Real

From that solid base of adult authority, we can recognize that much of the noise swirling around us is flickering illusion. Yes, it’s painful. Yes, it’s deeply troubling. Yes, it needs us to show up.

But from our aligned adult self, we can feel the pain and outrage without being consumed by it. We can stay grounded in what’s real—the love of friends and family, the higher values that connect us, our commitment to freedom and justice, the ideals to which we aspire. We can feel our fear and our anger, and use them as fuel rather than letting them use us.

Here’s what I’ve come to understand: The troubling emotions we’re feeling right now—the fear, the grief, the rage—aren’t obstacles to avoid. They’re breadcrumbs. If we pause and allow ourselves to deeply feel them, to trace them back to their source, they lead us to the younger parts of ourselves that need our attention. And tending to those parts is what creates wholeness.

We can stand firm in our own authority instead of waiting for someone else to save us.

This is the journey Soul Breadcrumbs illuminated for me—not as a performance, but as a lived experience of what becomes possible when we turn inward, bring our younger selves home, and discover the strength that comes from wholeness.

The most radical act right now might be to do the inner work of integration. Before another protest or petition, it might be to gather all the parts of ourselves that are panicking, listen to them with love, and stand as the grounded adult presence they—and the world—need.

Because when we do that work, we become unshakeable. Not because the ground stops shifting, but because we’ve found solid ground within ourselves.\

And from that place, we can truly show up for what this moment demands.

Master life coach Leza Danly has been coaching individuals and groups for over 30 years. She founded Lucid Living, which offers a robust curriculum of transformational workshops. Her one-woman show, Soul Breadcrumbs, is now available for free streaming at soulbreadcrumbs.com. You can read more of her work at lezadanly.com.

Please note that we may receive affiliate commissions from the sales of linked products.

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