personal growth

When Your Reality Shatters: What to Do When the World No Longer Makes Sense

How to Rethink, Reimagine, and Move Forward When Everything is Changing

For decades, I clung to beliefs that felt like a lifeline. Even when they didn’t fit, I assumed the fault was mine. I thought if I just tried harder and prayed more, I’d find alignment. But I didn’t. Instead, I suffered.

Letting go wasn’t an option—not for a long time. My beliefs were woven into the fabric of who I was. Questioning them felt like standing on the edge of a cliff, knowing that if I jumped, I might not survive the fall.

But the suffering became unbearable. So, eventually, I jumped.

I almost died. Some days, it felt like I was peeling my own skin off, layer by layer. I barely recognized myself and others no longer recognized me. The confusion, fear, and despair were suffocating. I wandered blindly through the dark, grasping for anything solid. No one handed me a roadmap, but a few offered a hand. Slowly, glimmers of light began to appear. Bit by bit, they grew.

Since that great unravelling of belief, I stay wary of clinging too tightly to any worldview. I hold my beliefs with open hands. Not because I don’t stand for anything—oh, I do!—but because I know how easy it is to mistake certainty for truth.

I see it everywhere. People gripping tight to ideas that can’t hold them anymore, afraid to let go.

What We Can’t See

I’m reading An Immense World by Ed Yong, a book about how animals experience reality in ways we can’t even imagine. Some creatures hear frequencies beyond our range. Others see spectrums of light we’ll never perceive. We humans like to believe we take in the world as it is, but the truth is, we are always missing something—we only ever see truth partially.

Lately, when I walk in the woods, I try to notice more. I pause, breathe deeply, and listen. I feel the sun warming my skin, the cool wind brushing against my face. I take in the scent of damp earth and the faint sweetness of pine. I remind myself that there is more happening than I can ever perceive. And I ask myself: How much of what I think I know is just another illusion or partial truth?

(Arboretum in Asheville, NC. ©2022 Carla Royal)

Why We Cling to Our Beliefs

Psychologist George Kelly compared beliefs to reality goggles, which we use to make sense of the world. But when those goggles crack, when something challenges what we think we know, we don’t usually take them off. Instead, we tighten them, trying to hold everything together. We twist, contort, rationalize—anything to keep our worldview intact.

It’s human nature but also dangerous because the world never stops changing. And when it changes, our old ways of seeing won’t save us.

I get why people resist change. It’s not just about the belief itself—it’s about who we are without it. If we let go, what’s left? Who’s left? That fear keeps people gripping tightly to what no longer serves them, even when everything around them is shifting.

Neuroscientist Lisa Feldman Barrett reminds us that our brains are wired to predict what’s next based on what has already been. Letting go of an old belief isn’t just uncomfortable; it can feel unsafe. But that doesn’t mean the belief is true. It just means we’ve worn deep grooves into an old map. Maybe it’s time for a new one.

What Comes After Letting Go

At first, letting go can feel like freefall. The ground you stood on, the certainty you built your life around, vanishes beneath you. But what if it’s not falling at all? What if it’s flight?

What if, instead of gripping tighter, we trusted that something new wants to emerge? What if the space left behind by an old belief isn’t emptiness but possibility?

I’ve found that something remarkable happens when I stop fighting for control and allow myself to stand in the unknown. Clarity arrives, not all at once, but in glimpses. New ways of thinking surface, and unexpected perspectives find me. I stop seeing the world through old, cracked lenses, and instead, I catch glimpses of something new—new possibilities, new opportunities, new ways of being.

The Courage to Not-Know

What if we stopped treating uncertainty as something to fear?

Because here’s the thing: we don’t know what’s coming next. Yes, things look frightening, but we can’t know how things will go. Not with any certainty. The ground beneath us is shifting, whether we like it or not. And those who will make it through aren’t the ones gripping hardest to old paradigms.

They are the ones willing to see what wants to emerge and focus there rather than on what is crumbling.

Joan Halifax said, “All too often, we hold on to what we believe to be solid, when in truth, everything is shifting. Liberation begins the moment we recognize that groundlessness is not a curse, but a doorway.”

What if we stopped fighting the shift and started stepping through the doorway?

A Challenge for Us All

I won’t pretend I have mastered this. Even now, I catch myself tightening my grip, trying to make sense of things. But when I notice, I pause and breathe. I remind myself that clarity isn’t about having all the answers but about staying open to the questions.

Maybe it’s whispering, I don’t have to have all the answers right now, and that’s OK. Maybe it’s learning to rest in the unknown, trusting that something meaningful will arise in time.

So, I’ll keep walking. I’ll keep noticing. I’ll keep breathing in the uncertainty and trusting that something new is constantly unfolding, even if I can’t see the whole picture.

I can either help usher in the new or cling to what no longer holds, pretending I can’t feel the shift already happening.

I know which choice I want to make. What about you? Will you hold on tighter, or will you open your hands and see what wants to emerge? Maybe that’s where something new begins—when we stop gripping so tightly and allow space for what’s next.


If this stirred something in you, share it with someone who might be standing in their own uncertainty. And if you’d like to keep exploring these ideas together, subscribe here. Your thoughts, reflections, and even a simple ‘like’ mean more than you know. Let’s keep finding our way—one step at a time. 🤗

Stay on Course: Why Focus is the Most Powerful Act of Resistance

In a world built to scatter your attention, reclaiming your focus isn’t just self-care—it’s a revolution. Here’s how to take back your power and do what truly matters.

Everywhere I Turn, Something is Demanding my Attention

The news, the notifications, the endless stream of crises—each one urgent, each one insisting that it matters most. I want to stay informed, bear witness, and do my part. But no matter how much I try to hold, there is always more. The weight is relentless, and if I’m not careful, it leaves me scattered, depleted, and unable to focus on what truly matters.

And that’s exactly the point.

(Douglas Lake, TN. ©2015 Carla Royal)

A System Designed to Keep Us Distracted

I know I’m not alone in this. Many people I speak to feel the same pull, exhaustion, and sense of being stretched too thin. And that’s not an accident. We live in a system designed to keep us distracted. The more fragmented our attention, the harder it is to think critically, reflect deeply, and channel our energy into meaningful action.

That’s why reclaiming our focus is more than a personal choice. It’s an act of resistance. A refusal to be manipulated, depleted, and rendered ineffective. The world needs steady, intentional, intelligent action, not reaction. But that requires discipline—stepping out of the whirlwind and focusing on what’s ours to do.

A Simple Framework for Reclaiming Focus

Recently, I listened to a conversation between Priya Parker and Brené Brown on Unlocking Us. Priya, the author of The Art of Gathering, shared three guiding questions she returns to when the world feels overwhelming:

  • What do I know how to do?

  • Where is the need?

  • How can I do what’s within my reach, with blinders on—trusting that others are doing the same?

These questions offer a way forward—a way to cut through the noise, reclaim our focus, and show up fully—not in every direction at once but in the way that matters most. We cannot do everything, but we can do what is ours to do.

Blinders Aren’t Avoidance—They’re Power

Blinders get a bad rap. People assume they mean avoidance, a refusal to acknowledge what’s happening in the world. But that’s not the kind of blinders I’m talking about. The right blinders don’t make us ignorant; they make us effective. Horses wear them not because they lack vision but because they have too much of it (hello, my highly sensitive friends!). They are easily startled, distracted, and thrown off course without them. The blinders help them stay focused on the path ahead and the work that is theirs.

We need those blinders—not to turn away from reality, but to stay committed to what is ours to carry. To recognize the difference between what calls for our attention and what is merely designed to steal it.

(Serenbe, GA. ©2015 Carla Royal)

Why We Must Protect Our Energy

We need those blinders. Not to turn away from the world, but to stay committed to what is ours to carry—and to release what is not. Neuroscientist Lisa Feldman Barrett explains that our brains have a finite amount of energy each day. We deplete that energy whenever we shift focus, consume more information, or engage in reactive thinking. If we spend it on things we can’t control, we have nothing left for the work within our reach.

Stephen Porges, the creator of polyvagal theory, adds that when we are in a state of constant urgency, our nervous system shifts into survival mode—fight, flight, or freeze. When that happens, we lose access to the very parts of ourselves that allow for deep engagement, creativity, and meaningful change.

And that’s precisely what the world’s noise machine wants—to keep us exhausted, overwhelmed, and disconnected from our power.

Resisting the Pull of Distraction

So, I return to Priya’s questions.

  • What do we know how to do?

  • Where is the need?

  • How can we do what’s within our reach?

The challenge isn’t knowing the answers—many of us already know or have an inkling. The challenge is choosing to focus by putting on our blinders. It’s resisting the temptation to scatter our attention, refusing to let urgency and noise dictate where our energy goes. It’s the discipline of choosing—again and again—to stay steady in what is ours to do.

Your Attention Is Power—How Will You Use It?

That choice belongs to all of us. Each of us has something to contribute, something within reach. Some will build. Some will lead. Some will heal. Some will create. Some will nourish. Some will challenge and disrupt. Some will plant. Some will make phone calls. No one can do it all, but if we each tend to our own piece, the whole is tended. The weight is distributed. Change becomes possible.

(Knoxville, TN. This blind horse knows all about focused attention. ©2006 Carla Royal)

What Is Yours to Do?

I invite you to step back and ask yourself:

What is yours to do?

Not the whole world. Not everything that needs fixing. Just your part. Just the thing that calls to you—the work that’s within your reach. The forces that thrive on our distraction want us exhausted and ineffective. But we don’t have to play by their rules. A scattered mind is easy to control. A focused one is powerful.

Make the Choice to Show Up Fully

Today, I put on my blinders. Not because I don’t care but because I care too much to waste my energy on things I cannot change. Not because I want to turn away but because I want to stay steady in the work that is mine to do. And I invite you to do the same—not in my way, but in yours. If we each focus on what is ours to do, something new becomes possible.