“God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change; courage to change the things I can; and wisdom to know the difference.”
You don’t have to be Christian for the words of the Serenity Prayer to resonate.
Commonly attributed to the American theologian Reinhold Niebuhr, the prayer’s central idea appears across religions and philosophies: from sabr in Islam to Greek Stoics’ acceptance of what lies beyond one’s control.
Across traditions, the message is the same: cultivate clarity about where your responsibility begins and where it ends.
In a world where catastrophe now arrives through a glowing screen in our hands, that distinction is becoming harder to maintain.
Rollercoaster emotions
The United Nations Children’s Fund (Unicef) reported last year (2025) that more than 50,000 children had been killed or injured in Gaza since the escalation of the conflict there.
In Sudan, the war between rival factions has created one of the largest humanitarian crises on earth.
The beginning of the recent attack on Iran started with the deaths of schoolchildren.
Escalating tensions and repeated cycles of violence mean entire generations of young people are growing up amid war, displacement and uncertainty.
For many of us watching from afar, the emotional response can be overwhelming.
I feel this myself.
Over the past year I have felt waves of anger, disbelief and despair as images and reports continue to arrive.
At times, there is an urge to turn away; sometimes, a desire to do something – anything – to help.
Some emotions are not dissimilar to what doctors sometimes experience during a busy shift at the hospital.
In the emergency department or the wards, there are moments when multiple crises converge at once: anxious relatives waiting for answers, patients deteriorating unexpectedly, colleagues seeking decisions, multiple alarms sounding – the emotional weight of responsibility can feel immense.
But medicine teaches something crucial in those moments: if you do not take care of yourself, you will not be able to take care of anyone else.
Distressingly stressed
Doctors learn this lesson early, sometimes painfully.
You cannot save every patient in a single moment.
You prioritise, you focus on what is within your control, and you protect your mental clarity so that you can continue to function.
The same principle increasingly applies to how we engage with the tragedies unfolding around the world.
It is tempting to think that if we are not physically present in a war zone, the psychological impact should be minimal.
But research suggests otherwise.
Studies have shown that frequent exposure to distressing news – made more constant by social media – can worsen anxiety, distress and emotional fatigue.
Researchers studying media exposure during crises have found that repeated engagement with traumatic content can produce symptoms similar to stress responses typically associated with direct trauma.
Another phenomenon now widely recognised is doomscrolling, i.e. the compulsive consumption of negative news through endless social media feeds.
The more uncertainty people feel, the more they seek information to regain a sense of control.
Yet, the algorithms that deliver this information are optimised for engagement, not well-being.
The result is a loop.
You scroll to stay informed.
Instead you encounter more horror, more outrage, more despair.
Sleep becomes disrupted.
Concentration suffers.
Conversations with loved ones become tense or distracted.
Work becomes harder.
A sense of helplessness creeps in.
Compassion fatigue, which was once mostly discussed among humanitarian workers and healthcare professionals, is becoming a wider societal experience.
Empathy is a powerful human instinct.
It drives humanitarian action and global solidarity.
But empathy without boundaries can become debilitating.
Taking a step back
The Serenity Prayer offers a simple, but profound, framework through which to navigate this.
The first element (serenity to accept what we cannot change) is perhaps the most counterintuitive.
An individual scrolling through tragedy at midnight cannot stop a war.
Staying awake consuming traumatic footage does not change events on the ground.
Recognising this is not indifference; it is the beginning of psychological balance.
The second (courage to change what we can) is equally important.
While individuals cannot end conflicts alone, they can still influence the world in meaningful ways, e.g. supporting humanitarian efforts, advocating for accountability, making ethical consumer choices or raising awareness responsibly.
The scope of this action need not be grand to be real.
The third element (wisdom to know the difference) may be the hardest to practise.
The challenge today is not simply deciding whether or not to care.
It is deciding how to care without destroying our own mental resilience.
Protecting your mental health
Just as doctors learn strategies to manage the emotional demands of medicine, ordinary citizens navigating global crises can adopt similar habits.
Creating boundaries around news consumption is a practical first step, e.g. choosing specific times of day to engage with trusted sources rather than submitting to constant exposure.
Avoiding graphic content where possible is another – bearing witness does not require repeated exposure to traumatic imagery.
Alongside these, the basics of physical self-care matter more than we often acknowledge.
Sleep, exercise and simple grounding techniques help regulate stress responses.
And talking about what we are feeling (with friends, family or professionals) prevents the isolation that often accompanies distressing news cycles.
These are not acts of disengagement.
They are acts of preservation.
Constructive action
For many people, the deepest frustration comes from feeling powerless.
Taking constructive action can restore a sense of agency, even if done in modest doses.
Some choose to support humanitarian organisations providing food, medical aid and shelter.
Others advocate politically or raise awareness about humanitarian access, both in conversations and on social media.
Still others engage in forms of non-violent civic pressure, e.g. consumer choices like the BDS (Boycott, Divestment, Sanctions) movement, campaigns or direct engagement with elected representatives.
People will differ in the strategies they believe are most effective, but the underlying principle remains: action, even small actions, can transform passive despair into purposeful engagement.
Remaining functional
As a doctor, I have often reminded younger colleagues that compassion must be sustainable.
If we allow ourselves to become overwhelmed, we cannot think clearly, make good decisions or help the very people who depend on us.
The same lesson applies to how we process global suffering.
Caring about the world’s tragedies is not the problem.
Losing ourselves entirely within them might be.
So, perhaps the Serenity Prayer remains relevant, not as a religious incantation, but as a mental framework for a turbulent age.
A clear and steady mind is not a luxury in difficult times.
It is the very thing that allows us to keep showing up.
Dr Helmy Haja Mydin is a consultant respiratory physician and Social & Economic Research Initiative chairman. For further information, email starhealth@thestar.com.my. The information provided is for educational and communication purposes only. The Star does not give any warranty on accuracy, completeness, functionality, usefulness or other assurances as to the content appearing in this column. The Star disclaims all responsibility for any losses, damage to property or personal injury suffered directly or indirectly from reliance on such information.
