The Great Stability Hoax

At this point, it's pretty much impossible not to notice that the world is having a collective nervous breakdown.

People are wandering around dazed and deeply, existentially depressed. Life feels like the worst kind of fever dream (and has for years at this point). Rent’s ridiculous, reliable support is non-existent, politics feel like a reality show that jumped the shark five seasons ago, and apparently, there’s a new pandemic every couple of years just to keep things interesting.

Meanwhile, the stock market is all over the place like a caffeinated squirrel, and half of the influencers you follow are talking about “buying land” like that’s a thing normal people can do.

And through it all, there’s this low, anxious hum underneath everything:

Is life actually supposed to feel this unstable?

Because honestly? Your mileage may vary (and almost certainly does), but life has always been like this for me, so I feel like an old pro at most of this. But it's also occurred to me lately that I might not be alone in my awareness of this.

The Myth of Stability (or the "Adulting" Scam)

Once upon a time, we were all sold this shiny lie that if you check the right boxes by the right age — job, partner, mortgage, 401(k), monogrammed towels — you arrive at a place called Stability™, a mythical promised land where nothing bad ever happens again and you can finally unclench your jaw.

I've never personally been to that place or even felt like I might be in the neighborhood. But life has also taught me that no one ever actually gets there, even if they're positive they have.

Because Stability™ doesn't actually exist.

Even those who look stable are just one or two disasters away from eating canned beans by candlelight. The only difference is that some people have better access to cushier illusions that help them sleep more easily at night — nicer houses to panic in or maybe family safety nets that catch them when they fall.

For me, the “stability” thing never made sense. I learned early that security is just a story people tell themselves to stay calm.

And once you realize that? You stop chasing a ghost that doesn't really exist and start getting good at the thing that actually makes the biggest difference.

Adaptation.

Welcome to the Shaky Club

Don't worry. There's no secret handshake you have to know, and you don’t have to apply. In fact, you might already be a member. Seriously, if you’ve ever lain awake doing the math on how long you could live on canned soup and freelance income, congratulations. You’re in!

Maybe you’re someone like me who’s never had a stable home or a family that truly, unconditionally loved you and had your back. Maybe you’ve been the responsible one your whole life, dragging everyone else across the finish line. Maybe you’ve started over so many times you could write a self-help book called Rebooting for the Thousandth Time: A Memoir. (Don't call yours that, though, because I have dibs on that title.)

Whatever brought you here, you’re not alone. In fact, the Shaky Club’s been getting pretty crowded. Half the planet’s suddenly realizing that the system doesn’t actually work and that so-called “adult life” and "the American dream" might have been pyramid schemes all along.

In a way, it's almost comforting. Because if we can see a problem and name it, we can start working together to solve it. But that's a whole other conversation for another day.

Why Some of Us Handle Chaos Better

When COVID hit, a lot of people’s worlds shattered and would never be the same. When politics went full Cheeto Burrito Twilight Zone, people had existential crises en masse, and that’s more than understandable.

But for me, the patron saint of lifelong instability? When COVID happened, it honestly just felt like someone peeled the skin off of the same filthy, festering cesspool that had always been there, but no one could apparently see. Other people who once believed in myths like "safety" and "security" finally saw what things are really like for the first time.

The thing is, some of us really have been doing this dance our whole lives. We know that certainty’s a mirage. We’ve had to rebuild from rubble so many times that we stopped expecting the floor to hold eons ago.

And the hellscape we're all currently living in? I saw all this coming a long time ago, and no, I'm not psychic (although that would be handy). I just long ago accepted the world as a shifting, completely indifferent organism, and so I’ve learned to grow roots that move when the wind does.

Rhythm, not control

You can’t make life stable, because I'm not kidding when I say that doesn't exist. You can develop better sea legs.

My own version of stability isn’t a picket fence and really never has been. (I couldn't afford that even if I wanted it!) It’s the morning ritual I engage in before anyone else in my house wakes up. It’s my incense, my tea, and my little corner of mental peace that no election or economy can touch.

You find a few things you do every day that you can control and that make you feel like yourself, and you guard them like they’re sacred relics. Because they are.

Ritual, both the everyday kind and the grander alternative, is how humans survive chaos. It doesn’t even have to be spiritual, unless you want it to be. It can be your gym playlist, your daily walk, or even just the way you refuse to check email before 10 AM.

Money helps, but mindset matters more

Would I rather face chaos with a healthy savings account and a backup generator? Fuck, yes. But even money really can’t guarantee peace. Ask anyone who thought they were set until a medical bill, market crash, or divorce yeeted their “forever plan” straight into the sun.

Because I've had times in my life when I had enough money coming in not to have to worry about how my bills were going to get paid month to month, and I've had times when I didn't have $10 to my name. Having money helped a lot with the anxiety of day-to-day life, but it didn't ultimately change much about the big picture or about me as a person.

So yes, chase financial security, but don’t confuse it with existential security. One’s a spreadsheet. The other’s a life skill.

The skill part is about knowing you’ll somehow figure it out again, because you always have. It’s the confidence that you can pivot, rebuild, and keep your sense of humor intact while the universe throws yet another plot twist at your head.

Tiny stabilities count

If you can’t have one big, unshakable safety net, build a patchwork of tiny ones instead. They're not everything, but they can help a lot when it comes to getting through the day:

• A friend who texts you memes when you’re spiraling
• The one song that makes you feel like the main character again
• A mug, a candle, a corner of your garden that stays yours no matter who else lives there
• A small amount of money that no one else has access to, even if it’s literally a $10 “freedom fund” in a jar

Micro-stabilities add up, and they help keep your nervous system even. Go hour by hour, if you have to. Help someone else if you can. Then get up tomorrow and do it again. Rinse. Repeat.

Comparison is a trap (and social media is the bait)

Half the people you see online who “have it together” are one bad week away from their own existential crisis, just like you. They’re just better at picking flattering filters.

Hell, I consider myself fairly forthright, and there's still a lot about my life that inspires so much shame, I simply don't talk about it online.

I have a lot to be proud of, but there are also a lot of basics others take for granted that I simply don't have, and that embarrasses me. I've never once felt truly safe or secure, not even as a child, and I certainly don't feel safe and secure now. But other people don't (or simply won't) see that when they look at me, even when I am super candid about it.

That said, comparing your raw chaos to someone else’s curated calm will only make you miserable. Stability is a myth dressed up as an aesthetic. There are more people in your boat with you than you probably think, guaranteed.

Seek meaning, not permanence

Meaning doesn’t have to be grand or spiritual (although I personally find some kind of spiritual center really helps). It can be making art, growing things, writing, or just refusing to become completely numb. When everything else is unpredictable, meaning gives you the continuity you need to wake up in the morning and somehow find the strength to try again.

I can’t control whether the economy collapses or President Buttface launches us into World War III, but I can sit down and write something that makes someone else feel less alone. That doesn't fix anything, but it's at least something. And a lot of little somethings add up.

How to Make Peace with Impermanence

Life is really more like a campfire than a castle, and that has its own upside.

A castle might be sturdy, but it also demands upkeep, taxes, and an endless war with mildew. Enemies invade castles and put you in situations where you have to dump boiling oil on their heads. Castles also aren't readily available to the vast majority of us.

A campfire, on the other hand, needs tending, but it’s warm and alive. It flickers, it changes, and eventually it burns out. And then you light another one, because you know how, and it's simply what you do.

Some days, I wonder if maybe that isn't what “security” actually is. Trusting that you can keep making new fires.

So what do we do now?

• Stop trying to make things permanent. Buy the house if you want, but don't lose sight of the fact that it’s still temporary. The only permanence in life is you.
• Build routines that keep you sane. Tiny, boring rituals are the scaffolding of peace. Embrace them.
• Diversify your sense of safety. Don’t put all your eggs in one basket. Not relationships, not jobs, not governments. There's no guarantee that any of those things will last, so focus on building multiple small supports instead.
• Stay curious. The people who survive chaos best are the ones who treat it like an experiment instead of a punishment.
• Laugh, even if it’s dark humor. Humor is the pressure valve that keeps the soul from exploding. If you can find the absurdity in it, you’ve already survived half of it. Seriously, laughter has been the X-factor that kept me out of the gutter more than once.

Dancing on the Cracks

Seriously, things are bleak out there, especially right now. That being the case, the world’s probably not getting calmer anytime soon. Maybe not even in my lifetime. Sadly, I also think things will get a lot worse before they start getting better.

But maybe calm shouldn't even be the goal anymore. Maybe it should be to become the kind of person who still keeps their rhythm even when the world goes sideways.

Because no one actually has a stable life, regardless of what they think or how "normal" they happen to be. Some just have nicer rugs to trip on.