The exhaustion of caring and why it’s worth it.

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Every day I find myself feeling a mixture of fear, grief, anger, despair and guilt - all before I’ve had my morning coffee.

It's a familiar cocktail for those of us who care about the current state of our planet: climate change, inequality, injustice, exploitation.

Every headline, every scroll on social media seems to serve up another dose of urgency and outrage, so much so that just the act of staying informed feels like an endurance test. We care, we want change, but how do we hold onto that conviction when each day delivers a new onslaught of crises?

In an era when there is an overwhelming amount to care about, it’s hardly surprising that burnout, compassion fatigue, and what psychologists call “moral distress” are on the rise.

Caring is hard work, and the exhaustion of caring can feel more like a chronic condition than a passing phase. So why should we continue to persevere?

Caring in the age of instant despair

The emotional toll of staying engaged can be high. Studies have shown that regular exposure to distressing news can contribute to mental health struggles, even in those who are actively working to address the very issues they’re reading about. For some of us, this distress manifests as frustration and anger; for others, it’s sorrow or a gnawing sense of guilt.

For many, it’s easier to retreat into our own corners of the world. Sometimes, it’s what you have to do to stay sane. Catch your breath and focus on the parts of our lives that we feel we CAN control.

But the truth is, we can’t afford to check out. We can’t afford to do nothing when social and environmental crises are at an all time high.

The ripple effect of staying engaged.

It’s easy to feel like your effort is a drop in the ocean, barely making a difference. But change rarely happens all at once.

Remember that social movements that have transformed societies - the civil rights movement, women’s suffrage, rainbow rights - didn’t materialise overnight. They took years, sometimes decades, and the relentless efforts of countless individuals who might never see the full outcome of their work.

In his book, The Moral Imagination, John Paul Lederach writes about the power of a “constructive social change” vision that is built “not only on the immediate present but the distant horizon.” Caring means that we’re planting seeds for a future that might be better because we dared to believe it could be. It means that each action, however small, is a contribution to something much larger than ourselves.

Modern slavery is not going to disappear any time soon, but that doesn’t mean the fight against it is hopeless.

The women who were rescued from trafficking and make your jewellery will never know your name, but they will soon empower others. The children rescued from cocoa plantations might not know where Aotearoa is, but they will know there is good in this world.

Caring connects us to one another. We’re bound by a shared humanity, with all its flaws and struggles, and our compassion is a bridge that can help others get from where they are to a better, safer place.

Perhaps that’s why I spend the extra $3 on fair trade coffee or spend a few more minutes learning about a brand before making a purchase.

That’s why I allow myself to feel angry when I’m reminded that our government does not think that modern slavery legislation is a priority. That’s why I let myself feel grief every time I hear about an exploitation story that breaks my heart.

I hold onto these feelings, even on the days when I’m running on empty because I’m reminded that the world is changed bit by bit by people who refuse to give up.

Yes, caring is exhausting. It requires resilience and a willingness to live with the discomfort of knowing we can’t fix everything. But the alternative - indifference - would rob the world of its heart. And if there’s one thing this world needs, it’s more people who choose to care, even when it hurts, even when it’s hard.