What do you say when people ask you how you’re doing? Do you have the words to describe how you’re feeling? Most of the time, I don’t. Recently, I came across a writing from Dr. Zelana Montminy that gives me some clues. She’s a Behavioral Scientist who works “to help people reclaim their minds in a world that profits off their distraction.” I’m sharing a few excerpts below, and you can read the whole thing here.
The Ache of Being Awake, by Dr. Zelana Montminy
There’s a certain kind of ache I’ve been feeling lately. It doesn’t have a clear origin. It’s not tied to a headline or a diagnosis or a single moment.
But it lives in my chest. It lives in my breath. It lives in the way I find myself staring out the window longer than I used to, searching for something I can’t quite name.
I think I’m grieving.
Not a person.
But a framework.
A shared understanding of decency.
Of truth.
Of what’s right and what’s way, way off. …
But we’re not built for this.
Not for this level of detachment.
Not for the absence of shared truth.
Not for a world where everything is up for debate, including basic humanity.
So we grieve. Even if we don’t call it that. …
Maybe it’s a heartbreak without a name.
Maybe it’s a mourning for what’s been lost:
Clarity. Accountability. A moral center.
What does it mean to create a life rooted in something real, when so much of the world feels hollow? …
This isn’t about fixing everything.
It’s about choosing something. …
It’s about staying human in a world that keeps asking you to be something less. …
So no, you can’t fix a fractured world.
But you can choose to be a force of repair inside it.
Not by doing more, but by doing what matters.
By naming what hurts instead of numbing it.
By making space for wonder, not just efficiency.
By tending to your corner of the world with care, even when it feels like the rest is burning.
By telling the truth.
By making meaning, not just noise. …
Because the ache you feel?
It’s not a sign that you’re falling apart.
It’s a call to build something truer in the rubble.
And no, you may not be able to fix the whole thing.
But you can be a place where the rebuilding begins.