To find peace in the chaos

Does a green smoothie at lunch really take away all these problems?

The world today is complex, loud, and full of upheaval. But has it always been this way? Perhaps it’s not the world that’s changed, but the way we perceive it. Technology has brought distant events closer: we see things we once couldn’t, hear voices that would have been silent, and follow stories we might never have imagined. With Instagram, TikTok, Netflix, and YouTube, we scroll, laugh, stream, cry, and obsess. We’re absorbed in the lives of others, leaving little room for our own.

Yet, my issue isn’t with technology itself. Social media and the internet are like carrier pigeons, simply delivering news in this shared struggle. Technology amplifies bad news because, deep down, we crave it. We’re drawn to scandals, attention seized by each tragic headline.

But with so much negative information—how do we find peace? How do we keep it?

One moment, I’m watching another retaliatory strike between Israel and Iran, wondering if this cycle will ever end. I scroll on and see children crying in Gaza or parents recounting the horror of their kidnapped children on October 7th. And as soon as I try to process this, I make my morning coffee, sit at my desk, and journal to rediscover my purpose. Then, the looming threat of climate change pulls me back—a threat to nature, animals, and us all. Suddenly, I remember emails I left unanswered. After replying, I read the news, reflecting on the rising tide of far-right movements across Europe and realizing the U.S. elections are just days away. Trump could be re-elected, potentially plunging us into another four years of political turmoil.

On my way to the metro, I see on TV displays at the station that Zelensky is still asking for money, arms, and support for his war. I can’t imagine a peaceful resolution between Ukraine and Russia. And I wanted so badly to visit Russia as someone who loves Russian literature. Now, I have to postpone that dream indefinitely.

Later, as I think about dinner—it has to be clean because I don’t want to risk cancer—I pass by homeless, addicted people on the streets.

In the midst of all this, I have my own life. I try to convince myself that I need a better morning routine, to start my day with yoga and a podcast on self-optimization to combat my anxieties. But how can I be at peace with myself when the world is at war with itself?

Does a green smoothie at lunch really take away all these problems? And even when I buy a beautiful 100 percent viscose blazer from Paris, does it lessen the pain I feel when I hear about another violent attack against a woman in Turkey? I know it doesn’t. So why do I pretend it does?

I know too much and yet, somehow, not enough to find peace in this world. When I smile or enjoy a moment, a wave of guilt washes over me. It haunts me, takes my breath away. Sometimes, it feels as though all the goodness has left the world. Is this what growing up is—or simply coming face to face with reality?

As children, we believe in the good. If we’re lucky, we remain untouched by the knowledge of evil. But as adults, finding peace within ourselves means choosing what is good over and over, even when we’ve seen the worst. True peace is rooted in reaffirming our values—the very values that often feel lost in the chaos. Peace isn’t about avoiding the storm that tosses us between joy and sorrow; it’s about holding tight to our values, which help us navigate through it.

All the material things—a Prada bag, a coconut milk latte, a wellness treatment—are simply illusions of goodness. It’s okay to enjoy them, but we must remember that they’re just that: illusions. True reality is built on kindness, integrity, empathy, and understanding.

We may not be able to solve the world’s problems, but we can contribute, in our own small ways, to a world that can find its way back to peace by keeping peace within ourselves.

Finding peace, then, isn’t about escaping the highs and lows of life. It’s about anchoring ourselves to values that are strong enough to guide us through, even as we laugh and cry in the midst of the storm.