I don't know who needs to hear this but, the world will be just fine.

Why does everything feel worse? Simple: The world has gotten better at telling you it is falling apart.

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I keep hearing people from many different places across the globe repeat a similar sentiment: The world is in a terrible place.

Of course, there are two major hot wars taking place: one in Eastern Europe and another in the Middle East. Not to mention climate crises, after-effects of the pandemic, persistent inflation, sociopolitical chaos, and the ever-creeping dread that maybe we have all forgotten how to be decent to one another.

Judaism has something to say about all of this: The whole world is a very narrow bridge, and the main thing is not to be afraid.

Nowadays, this saying is best known as a Jewish camp song, but it is actually a very prescient teaching. One of the Jewish sages, Rabbi Nachman of Breslov, coined this lesson.

And, in Hebrew, the Holy Days are known as hayamim hanoraim, which is often translated to the “Days of Awe.” But it turns out that, in Hebrew, the word for “awe” and the word for “fearful” — nora in singular, noraim in plural — are the same. Traditionally the Holy Days were in fact a fearful time for our ancestors.

Speaking of our ancestors, they and their peers had a plethora to fear in concrete, physical ways: rampant poverty and diseases, pogroms and wars (without “rules of war” and “human rights”), virtually no individual liberties, and barely any physical safety. (The first example of a statutory police force was probably the High Constables of Edinburgh, formed in 1611 to police the streets of Edinburgh, then part of the Kingdom of Scotland.)

Thankfully, most of us do not have the same kind of raw existential threats knocking at our door like previous generations did. Now our fear is more amorphous, like a wicked storm, an economic recession, or a political candidate whom we have never met.

Even in Israel, with genocidal enemies fighting us on six different fronts, most Israelis are unafraid. My good friend, for instance, lives close to the Israel-Lebanon border, where he hears booms multiple times a day from the fighting between Hezbollah and the IDF. But he is not scared, more so annoyed that he cannot go for a run in peace or play outside with his kids.

Israeli society has a saying for situations like these: “It will be okay.” I guess people in many countries say this generic phrase, but from my vantage point, Israelis do not just say it more; they truly mean it. Israelis are inherently hopeful and optimistic despite, every decade, defending themselves against genocidal wars from our profusely antisemitic neighbors. Never mind our self-declared enemies who vow to wipe us off the map as a core pillar of their doctrine.

Perhaps some of this Israeli hope and optimism can be attributed to the long history of Jewish persecution. This is not the first, second, third, fourth, or even fifth time that people have tried to annihilate us — and yet, here we are, thousands of years later, still here. And not just surviving, but all things considered, thriving.

One could easily make the argument that the Jews, even with our immense present-day challenges, have never been as strong and safe as we are today. The Jewish People has its own country which features (pound-for-pound) the world’s greatest military, defense, and intelligence — no less an impressive economy that produces some of the world’s foremost innovations; a vibrant culture; and regular contributions to medicine, the arts, science, agriculture, and academia.

What’s more, Diaspora Jews on the whole have thrived in the world’s strongest country (the United States), as well as in Europe, South America, and other parts of the West.

And perhaps most amazing of all, Israeli and Diaspora Jews were able to accomplish all of this against the backdrop of the Holocaust, the worst attack on Jews just 85 years ago.

All that said, Jews are not superhumans (though we are especially resilient and persistent). Ultimately, we are part of a greater human framework which has made unbelievable progress, even if getting there has not always been pretty.

Here is what I mean: The world has been around for quite a long time — 4.543 billion years. The earliest life forms we know of were microscopic organisms (microbes) that left signals of their presence in rocks about 3.7 billion years old. Hominins (the first humans) appeared around 6 million years ago, and contemporary human beings began evolving between 300,000 and 150,000 years ago.

Everything we are experiencing now — hot wars, climate crises, pandemics, economic instability, and sociopolitical chaos — has occurred time and again across hundreds of thousands of years. And yet, here we are, still here, still doing a pretty darn good job of keeping our planet spinning.

I have noticed that people in general have a habit of paying attention to the minority of what is wrong while ignoring the majority of what is right. We do not fully comprehend how much goes right every day, even when much could easily go wrong.

Think about the basic things — like when you turn on the faucet, water always comes through. When you go to the market, there is always food available to buy. When you get back from work, your home is not destroyed or conquered by some foreign agent. When there is a fire, firefighters arrive to the scene pretty quickly. When you check your bank account, your money is still there.

We tend to overlook these day-to-day positive outcomes, but in reality they require a remarkable amount of time, effort, and resources just for all these things and countless others to consistently and reliably work. (Never mind to improve upon them.) The fact that we take these day-to-day positive outcomes for granted shows how far we have come.

No doubt, there are new and extraordinary dangers that we face today, such as another world war, climate crises, nuclear weapons, and artificial intelligence. The ever-expanding consequences of these dangers are certainly cause for concern, but consider that every generation thought their particular challenges were unique, insurmountable, and potentially apocalyptic. Spoiler alert: Virtually none of them were. It is an age-old tradition to believe that the end is nigh.

In fact, there is something paradoxically comforting in the fact that the world has never been perfect. Think about it: Our ancestors also lived through tremendous variability and uncertainty. Yet they managed, often messily, to keep moving forward. And so will we.

Now, this is not to say that everything is fine and dandy. Quite the contrary. We are not immune to catastrophe, and proactive gestures are integral. But here is the kicker: The world does not need to be perfect for it to be okay.

Plus, the emergence and complexities of modern problems are not signs of impending doom; rather, they are symptoms of progress. We are living through the most globally connected and technologically advanced period in history, and with that comes growing pains.

Yes, we are collectively groaning under the weight of our advancements, but we are also creating unprecedented solutions — safer, faster travel; better, more reliable communications; unprecedented medical breakthroughs; and, yes, even sustainable energy. Progress is a bumpy, uneven ride, but the destination tends to be brighter than we expect.

So, why does everything feel worse? Simple: The world has gotten better at telling you it is falling apart. Information is constant, relentless and, let’s be honest, not the best for mental health. But just because we hear more bad news does not mean that there is more bad news. It is like looking at a carnival funhouse mirror; it distorts reality, but the distortion is not the truth.

For those of us into psychology, there is a term for cognitive distortion that involves imagining the worst possible outcome of an action or event. It is called “catastrophizing,” which can be characterized by three dimensions: helplessness (feeling overwhelmed by a situation), rumination (constantly thinking about a situation), and magnification (worrying that something serious will happen).

I used to be a heavy catastrophizer, until realizing that essentially everything I thought would lead to a catastrophe never did. That is when I developed a trick: When catastrophizing, I extrapolate the worst possible outcome.

For example, let’s say Israel loses this existential war. How might this play out? Well, this would not be the first time a country lost a war. There is plenty of precedent for countries losing wars and rebounding from them. On a personal level, I am a dual American-Israeli citizen; I can always move back to the United States. At the same time, if Israel loses this war, it could launch another one in the foreseeable future to reestablish its sovereignty and rebuild its deterrence.

Or, let’s say I live in the U.S. as one of the 6 or 7 million Jews there, and I believe the Jewish future in America is dismal because antisemitism increasingly continues to plague all sides of the sociopolitical spectrum. How might this play out? Well, this would not be the first time that Jews were unwelcome in a country. Again, there is plenty of precedence. In this case, I can move to Israel or to another place that is more welcoming of Jews.

Point being, when we extrapolate our fears, we often realize that, even if the worst possible outcome occurs, there is always a way to navigate the circumstances. And we are not the first people on this planet to deal with such circumstances. If millions of others have endured them, so can we.

And that is the keyword here: we. Even if the worst possible outcomes come to fruition, you and I and others will not be alone in dealing with them. There will always be many people in our shoes with whom we can collaborate in confronting these outcomes together. That, in and of itself, ought to give us strength. And this is presuming that the worst possible outcomes will occur. Often, they do not.

Hence the intellectual punchline: Our planet, in all its glorious mess, keeps turning. Humans, whether driven by selfish interests or a genuine desire for collective good, find ways to solve problems. We stumble, we fall, we curse our way through it, but ultimately, we continue to adapt.

And adaptation is key.

We have done it before, we will do it again.

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