Can you give yourself permission to feel good...even when everything around you isn’t?

I was sitting with my cup of tea the other morning, being still in that quiet pocket of time before the day really begins.

Outside the window, the birds were already busy at the feeders - fluttering, squabbling, taking turns, completely unconcerned with the state of the world...or my inbox...or the weight of everything that hasn’t been resolved yet, in my life, and in the world at large.

They just ate. And sang. And flew off.

And right there, mid-sip, a question landed hard and clear: Can I let myself feel good right now… even though everything is not as I would like it to be?

Because let’s be honest - there’s a lot that could stand to be fixed.

Personally.

Collectively.

Globally.

It can feel almost inappropriate, or insensitive, to relax.

As if our peace needs to be earned.

As if joy is a reward reserved for later, once the chaos settles down and everyone and everything is okay. (Cause, let's be real...how likely is it that THAT is going to happen??)

But the thing is, later keeps moving, doesn't it?

Many of us are walking around with this unspoken belief that feeling good while things are hard means we’re being careless, naïve, or selfish.

That staying tense is somehow a sign of empathy. That if we soften, we’ll miss something important or fail to be prepared for what’s coming next.

Our nervous systems, however, don’t thrive on that kind of logic.

They thrive on safety. On moments of genuine rest. On signals that say, you can exhale now.

Neuroscience is showing us - loudly and clearly - that our bodies are not designed to live in a constant state of alarm.

When we do, everything pays the price: our immune systems, our clarity, our creativity, our capacity to love and respond instead of react.

Chronic vigilance doesn’t make us better humans. It just makes us exhausted ones.

Maybe you have experienced the evidence of this in your own life.

I know I have!

And here’s the edgy part: feeling good is not a betrayal of suffering.

It’s actually one of the most radical things you can do.

When you allow yourself a moment of ease - real ease, not distraction - you’re not ignoring the world’s pain.

You’re stabilizing the system that has to meet it.

You’re choosing regulation over reactivity.

Presence over panic.

Agency over helplessness.

Meditation shows us this in a very direct way.

When we can sit and stop feeding every thought, every storyline, every what-if, we discover something quietly revolutionary: there is a part of us that remains untouched by the noise.

A place that can witness fear without becoming it.

A place that can hold grief and still recognize beauty at the bird feeder.

This is not bypassing reality. It’s meeting reality without abandoning yourself.

From that grounded place, compassion becomes cleaner. Action becomes wiser. Life becomes something you’re actually inside of again, instead of bracing against.

So yes - I believe we can give ourselves permission to feel good even when everything around us isn’t. Not because everything is okay, but because we are allowed to be.

Allowed to breathe.

Allowed to soften.

Allowed to experience moments of genuine aliveness in the middle of an imperfect world.

The birds didn’t wait for permission. Neither should we.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I think I’ll pour another cup of tea… and watch them a little longer.