The crises won't stop coming. Radical acceptance is the key to coping.

Take a deep, long breath, because you probably need one this week.

Which week is it again?

The one with Hurricane Ida, a Category 4 storm, that wiped out power for weeks in New Orleans. The one where the U.S. ended a 20-year war in Afghanistan but left behind vulnerable Afghans who may die at the hands of the Taliban now that America is gone. The one where a major wildfire in California crossed the towering Sierra Nevada mountain range and threatens thousands of homes in Lake Tahoe, not to mention the surrounding wilderness. Let's not forget the continued spread of the Delta variant, which may lead to another 100,000 deaths in the U.S. between now and December, the vast majority of those fatalities preventable with a vaccine some people refuse to take.

Next week it may be a different combination of disasters, fueled by climate change, geopolitics, conspiracy theories, and other forces that are well beyond our personal control. While catastrophe is part of the human experience — no matter how hard we try, we cannot keep tragedy or death at bay — the news finds us faster these days, on our phones and on social media. The pandemic, which began 18 long months ago, shifted our collective existence so that now any difficult development compounds the relentless uncertainty and grief, especially for those who experience new crises firsthand instead of watching them unfold from afar.

Of course, happiness still prevails when possible. We find ways to move through the day with the coping skills at hand. But what these disasters require of us is more than the emotional equivalent of treading water. Instead, they demand what psychologist Tara Brach has written about and promoted for nearly two decades: radical acceptance.

Brach describes the concept thusly: "Radical acceptance is the courage to face and accept reality, our current experience, what's happening now."

What radical acceptance offers

I asked Brach how to practice this skill as we face yet another wave of crises. To skeptics, the idea of accepting this week's events may seem like a recipe for more pain, if they mistake the notion of acceptance for condoning what's transpired or remaining passive about it. But when applied correctly, the approach offers a way forward during tumultuous times.

Brach, a meditation teacher and author of Radical Acceptance: Embracing Your Life With the Heart of a Buddha, says radical acceptance is born of two capacities: mindfulness and compassion. Mindfulness is simply the ability to recognize what's happening inside us right now, particularly observing and naming emotions as they arise. When compassion is employed, there's a quality of "open heartedness" about those inner experiences, says Brach.

She sometimes likes to frame radical acceptance as a question: What's happening right now inside me, and can I be with this with kindness?

If the answer is no, that's OK, says Brach. Radical acceptance also means accepting what we can't accept in that moment. For the person in the sweltering New Orleans heat, who has no electricity and cannot bear sitting with their fear and discomfort, radical acceptance wouldn't have them embrace the situation. Rather, it gives permission to acknowledge when something is too much to process in any given moment.

A critical benefit of the practice is to help return someone from the state of fight, flight, or freeze, when stress hormones are coursing through their body and their "primitive survival" brain has taken over. This evolutionary stress response has its role, but when left unmitigated can drive us to make poor decisions rooted in feelings of panic and anger, among other emotions. We might neglect ourselves in important ways, such as going without sleep, or lash out at others. When we turn to radical acceptance through mindfulness and compassion, it interrupts the mind and body and directs them away from an alarmed state.

Time to slow down

That transition cannot happen without what Brach calls the sacred pause. Slowing down enough to register our emotions and greet them with a gentle presence is a prelude to radical acceptance. Finding this stillness is undoubtedly hard when we're facing a firehose of information that includes everything from media coverage to calls for help from people trapped in their attics during a hurricane or scrambling to evacuate a wildfire. Doomscrolling and doombrowsing make radical acceptance impossible. Instead, put the phone down and turn the computer off.

"Speed ends up undermining our capacity to access our resources," says Brach. "The speedier our world, the less we actually listen to feelings, the less we process information in a useful way, the more we get caught in stereotypes, the more we get caught in our own unseen biases...we don't really think things through."

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Brach says that when she's gripped by powerful emotions like anger and blame, often triggered by hearing about someone powerful who is perpetuating social injustice or racism, she tries to pause and make a "U-turn." Instead of focusing on how the person is bad or wrong, she returns to her internal feelings with mindfulness, in an effort to understand what's motivating them. Underneath the anger, for example, is fear, which is undergirded by grieving for the suffering she sees, and beneath that is caring.

"If we can get back to the caring, then we can actually respond in a way that is useful in the world," says Brach.

How we get in our own way

Sometimes the path to radical acceptance is blocked by our own feelings of inadequacy. Brach says we may feel a sense of failure when stressed, then subsequently become stuck in anxiety or confusion. We might feel as though we've not helped enough or made the wrong choices. That contributes to what Brach calls the "trance of unworthiness," or a pervasive sense of personal failure that can undermine our relationships, our creativity and capacity at work, and our ability to enjoy life. That state of feeling deficient propels us forward on a "chain of reactivity," where our actions are dictated by our insecurity rather than a "wise presence."

At the same time, those feelings of inadequacy can prompt us to deploy judgment and blame, whether it's targeted at ourselves or others. Brach says those are common ways people try to organize the chaos before them, in an effort to gain control. If we judge ourselves harshly, or do the same to others trying to survive a crisis, it provides momentary order but no genuine relief. It also separates us from others.

Brach says that by pausing and recognizing the feeling of falling short, then practicing radical self-acceptance, we can cultivate courage, compassion, and resilience that helps us respond to challenges with greater intelligence.

Radical acceptance reminds us that we're not alone

If the process of radical acceptance seems intimidating, Brach has created a version of the acronym RAIN (recognize, allow, investigate, nurture) comprising the basic steps to follow. Those steps can be followed in the moment of feeling distress, or later when there's an opportunity to reflect. Even one minute spent using the acronym (a "light" RAIN) can make a difference, says Brach.

When feeling anxious, for example, the response could be as swift as quickly recognizing and naming the anxiety, allowing the experience to be without judgment or trying to ignore or change it, investigating a clenched chest with interest and care, and nurturing with self-compassion. The nurturing doesn't need to be elaborate, either. Simply putting a hand on the heart in that moment, saying kindly that it's OK, can be enough to gently acknowledge the toll.

When we reconnect with the caring beneath our emotions, we're better able to take care of ourselves and work with others, empathizing, collaborating, and problem-solving in times of need. (See, for example, the people who donated millions of dollars last week to Afghans in crisis.) Without that clarity and presence, we forget that others are experiencing similar pain, which leaves us feeling isolated and reactive.

"As soon as we remember our togetherness, we have all the resilience in the world," says Brach.

If you want to talk to someone or are experiencing suicidal thoughts, Crisis Text Line provides free, confidential support 24/7. Text CRISIS to 741741 to be connected to a crisis counselor. Contact the NAMI HelpLine at 1-800-950-NAMI, Monday through Friday from 10:00 a.m. – 8:00 p.m. ET, or email [email protected]. You can also call the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 1-800-273-8255. Here is a list of international resources.

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