Dear Hearts…

How are you holding up in these uncertain times?

It has been quite a long time since I’ve shared my voice here. I’ve been on a hiatus to focus on furthering my studies. Now, having completed a Masters in Sustainable Agriculture degree, moved house, renovated and taken a moment to recover from the state of burnout I pushed myself into, I feel more ready and able to return to this space.

And so, as it happens, I am returning at a time when the news cycles seem heavier than usual lately. Every scroll through our phones brings another story of geopolitical tensions, war drums beating somewhere in the world, economic instability, and a lingering sense that the ground beneath our collective feet is shifting in ways that we cannot control. Even if these events are unfolding far from our homes, their emotional tremors travel easily across borders. They reach us in the quiet moments — in the tightening of our chests, the low hum of worry, the questions about what the future might hold.

I’ve been asking myself – how to I create sense of security and comfort in a time of chaos?

In times like these, I find myself reaching to the familiar embrace of nature, growing my own food, grounding in green spaces, breathing and moving through forested paths on daily morning walks. It’s a constant that makes me feel safe. In addition, I also find myself returning to certain books that have served as spiritual and psychological companions through several difficult seasons of my life. One such book is Man’s Search for Meaning by the Austrian psychiatrist and Holocaust survivor Viktor Frankl.

Those of you who read my book, Mending Softly, may remember that at times I leaned on Frankl’s work while navigating the grief of pregnancy loss, because during that fragile season his ideas offered me a kind of steady lantern — something to hold onto while finding my way through the dark.

Frankl’s insights were forged in the unimaginable conditions of Nazi concentration camps, yet the wisdom that emerged from that suffering speaks powerfully to all seasons of uncertainty — including the one we find ourselves in today.

So, with this in mind, I thought it might be meaningful to revisit some of the key lessons from his work and reflect on how they might help us navigate a world that sometimes feels unstable and frightening.

The Freedom to Choose Our Response or Attitude

One of Frankl’s most enduring observations is that even when everything else is stripped away, we retain the freedom to choose our response to what is happening around us.

He wrote that everything can be taken from a person except one thing — the last of the human freedoms: to choose one’s attitude in any given set of circumstances.

This lesson has surfaced for me frequently over the years because it is both humbling and empowering, and perhaps even more so lately, as I find myself in an unusually reactive state of fear. Yet this idea is reminding me that, yes, there are so many things in life we cannot control: global conflicts, political decisions, economic systems, natural disasters, illness, loss. But within that vast landscape of uncertainty there remains a small but powerful territory that belongs entirely to us — our inner posture toward life.

During my own grief journey, as described in Mending Softly, I remember reaching a moment where I realised I could either sink deeper into despair or gently reach back toward life again, breath by breath. I began asking myself – what is thriving in my life, and what is thriving around me? – doing my best to redirect my attention to those things. Hand in hand with that, Frankl’s work reminded me that meaning and dignity are often found in that quiet act of choosing how we show up to what is.

Meaning as a source of Sustenance

Frankl believed that the deepest human drive is the search for meaning.

Not the fleeting rush of happiness.

Not success.

But, meaning.

In the concentration camps he observed that prisoners who held onto a sense of purpose — be it the thought of a loved one waiting for them, a piece of work left unfinished, a responsibility yet to be fulfilled — were often more resilient in the face of unimaginable suffering.

Meaning, in other words, can become a lifeline, a driving force that sustained them.

Granted, in our modern world the challenges or threats we face may look different, but the principle remains the same. When the world feels chaotic or frightening, reconnecting with what gives our lives meaning can anchor us again.

Your meaning might live in your relationships.

In your creative work.

In caring for your family.

In tending a garden.

In offering kindness where you can.

These seemingly small acts are not insignificant. They are threads of meaning that weave stability into an uncertain world.

Love as a Source of Strength

Another striking theme in Frankl’s writing is the power of love.

During his imprisonment, he often survived emotionally by imagining conversations with his wife and reflecting on the depth of his love for her. Even when separated from those we love, he believed that love remains a profound source of meaning and inner strength.

In a time where global tensions can make humanity seem so fractured and hostile, I feel that this is a particularly important reminder.

Expressed through compassion, empathy, and connection — love remains one of the most quietly radical forces we have available to us, especially because it reminds us of our shared humanity.

Suffering Can Be Transformed

Frankl never romanticised suffering. But he did suggest that when suffering is unavoidable, we still have the ability to transform how we carry it.

Again, this is a reminder that while we cannot always choose what happens to us, we can choose whether suffering becomes a place where meaning ends — or a place where meaning begins.

This idea was deeply personal for me during the season that eventually became Mending Softly, something I reflect on more specifically in the chapter on Post Traumatic Growth. Loss broke something open in my life. Yet slowly, through reflection, writing, and community, I discovered that the experience could also become a source of compassion, connection, and purpose.

The pain did not disappear. But it became woven into a story of resilience rather than despair.

Living Responsively to Life

Lastly, probably one the most beautiful ideas that Frankl’s work offers is that instead of asking what we expect from life, we might consider what life is asking of us.

Each moment presents us with a question.

How will we respond?

What will we choose?

What kind of human being will we be in this situation?

These questions feel particularly relevant in a world where fear and division often dominate public discourse.

Perhaps life is asking us to cultivate steadiness.

Perhaps it is asking us to practice compassion.

Or, perhaps it is inviting us to become small pockets of calm, kindness and meaning within a turbulent world.

A Gentle Invitation

So today, dear hearts, I leave you with a few reflective questions that echo Frankl’s philosophy:

What gives your life meaning right now?

What small acts of kindness or creativity could you offer the world today?

And perhaps most importantly:

What is the most life-affirming response available to you in this moment?

Even in uncertain times, meaning remains available to us. Often it lives in the quiet, everyday choices we make — the way we care, the way we create, the way we continue showing up for life despite its fragility.

And sometimes, simply continuing to breathe, love, and hope is its own quiet form of courage.

With warmth.

Jodi Sky