It’s Not Doom and Gloom. But It’s Not Nothing Either
Something feels off right now.
Not panic. Not chaos.
But not normal either.
For many of us in rural, regional, and remote communities, the fuel situation is moving from “inconvenient” to genuinely concerning. Tanks are running low. Some areas are running dry. And for communities that rely on fuel to move, to work, to survive, that’s not just a logistics problem, it’s a real threat.
Underneath all of this is something harder to articulate but easy to feel: a quiet unease. A sense of déjà vu. That creeping awareness that we’ve seen similar patterns before, the subtle build up, the nervous tension, the uncertainty that comes before the crisis actually lands.
If you felt this at the start of COVID, you know the feeling. It wasn’t the pandemic itself that created that tension at first, it was the anticipation. The gradual tightening. The whispers of shortage and disruption long before the chaos officially arrived. And now, here we are again, different circumstances, but that same low hum in the chest, the same restlessness in the mind.
Let’s call it for what it is: this is a real threat.
Not necessarily because everything will collapse overnight, but because of what could happen if pressures continue to build. Fuel shortages, global supply chain strain, and instability caused by conflict layered on top of fragile infrastructure all create a scenario we need to pay attention to. And even if things eased tomorrow, history tells us the ripple effects don’t stop, they linger.
That’s not doom and gloom. That’s reality.
And here’s the part we need to normalise: it’s okay to feel uneasy.
If you’re feeling that tightening in your chest, the slight knot in your stomach, the restless thinking, that’s not weakness. That’s awareness. That’s your nervous system responding to uncertainty. That’s your brain trying to make sense of things it doesn’t yet fully understand.
Awareness, however, left unchecked, can easily turn into overwhelm. And that’s where the choice sits: we can allow uncertainty to consume us, or we can work with it to strengthen ourselves.
This is exactly why I’ve developed what I call the Capacity Before Crisis framework. The principle is simple: the time to build your resilience isn’t when everything has already tipped over. It’s now, while things are still unfolding. While we still have some control over what we do next.
So how do we do this, practically, right now, without panicking, without succumbing to paralysis, and without pretending everything is fine? Here are the key tools I lean on, and the ones I encourage every community, team, and family to consider:
1. Acknowledge, Don’t Suppress
Name what you’re feeling. Out loud if you have to.
“I feel uneasy.”
“This situation is worrying me.”
Simple acts of naming reduce the hold anxiety has over us and create space for deliberate action.
2. Separate Possibility from Probability
Yes, things could escalate.
Yes, disruption may last longer than we’d like.
But right now, they haven’t.
Staying grounded in what is real today, while being mindful of what might happen tomorrow, prevents reactive thinking from spiralling into unnecessary fear.
3. Control What You Can
There’s a lot we can’t influence: global conflicts, international trade, shipping delays. But there’s a lot we can:
Daily routines
Communication with your team or family
Preparation for contingencies
Your personal wellbeing
Focus there. Energy spent outside your control is energy you don’t get back.
4. Strengthen Your Connections
Crisis isolates. But it doesn’t have to.
Reach out to your people now. Have real conversations. Drop the “I’m fine” façade. Connection is not a luxury, it’s a protective layer.
5. Manage Inputs
Information overload can worsen anxiety. Stay informed, yes, but don’t immerse yourself in constant updates, speculation, or worst-case scenarios. Your mental bandwidth is finite. Protect it.
6. Build Micro-Capacity Daily
Capacity isn’t built in big moments. It’s built in small, consistent actions:
Sleep
Nutrition
Movement
Time to reflect
Time to switch off
These are not optional. They are the baseline we fall back on when uncertainty escalates.
7. Prepare, Don’t Panic
Thinking ahead doesn’t have to mean fear. Ask yourself:
“If this continues, what would we do?”
Have simple plans in place. Discuss them. Write them down. Clarity creates calm.
8. Accept Uncertainty
This is the hardest part: accepting that we don’t know how long this will last, what the full impact will be, or how things will change. Acceptance isn’t surrender, it’s a starting point. It allows us to act intentionally rather than react impulsively.
The truth is, things aren’t going back to “normal” tomorrow. They might never return exactly as they were. And that’s okay. This isn’t about fear or gloom, it’s about recognising reality and choosing how to respond with awareness, preparation, and resilience.
If you’re feeling uneasy, know this: you’re not alone. You’re not overreacting. You’re paying attention. And that awareness is the first step in building real capacity.
We’ve been here before, in different ways. And we got through it. Not because it was easybut because we adapted, leaned on each other, and focused on what we could control.
Right now, the opportunity sits in front of us again: to build the resilience that doesn’t rely on things being easy, to lead even when the path isn’t clear, and to create the capacity to face whatever comes next.
We don’t wait for the crisis to hit to take care of our wellbeing.
We act before.
We prepare.
We strengthen.
We connect.
Because while the threat is real, so is our ability to endure, adapt, and lead through it.