Even When Things Get Worse, I Will Keep Choosing What Builds Life

Choosing what builds life is my vow for 2026.

A grounded promise for hard news, fragile nervous systems, and stubborn hope.

Choosing What Builds Life: Of course I’d love my first READ of 2026 to be all rosy and inspiring. You know… champagne corks popping, “new year, new me,” the whole thing.

But instead, here we are.

“Even when things get worse, I will keep choosing what builds life.”

Because in light of President Trump’s U.S. “intervention” in Venezuela, and the capture and transfer of Nicolás Maduro to the United States [1], 2026 geopolitics has kicked off in full swing. And I find myself back at my computer, blurting out reflections faster than a rat up a drainpipe.  

And it’s made me rethink my own positioning this year.

Not just politically. But personally.

Like… what story am I going to live inside this year?

What narrative underpins my work, my relationships, my time, my thoughts?

Because whatever your politics, Trump’s actions set a tone that once again tests the boundaries of international law [2]. And the norms we claim are meant to protect people from unilateral force. And even leaders who welcomed the end of Maduro’s rule seem divided and uneasy about the precedent being set [3].  

And honestly? Given the careful, conflicted, sometimes muted response from Europe and many U.S. allies, I’m about as confident that geopolitics will “calm down” this year as I am about seeing pigs fly [4].  

If anything, it feels like the floodgates have opened.

What’s going on will impact all of us. It’s happening. And somewhere deep down, I feel like… this has to happen for there to be any real change.

And before anyone misreads that: I’m not being a Negative Nancy caught up in fatalism. This is a far cry from cheering on collapse.

I’m just acknowledging the risks now on the table, and asking myself:

What meaning will I make, and what responsibility will I take?

And what will my actions be to get myself, my friends, my family, my community through this as safely and sanely as we can… to the other side?

Whenever that “other side” actually is. (Because… who knows.)

So I’m choosing an optimistic mindset. Made with intention. Not that blind optimism you just want to scream at. And not that stubborn optimism you want to shake out of someone.

But… considered optimism. Sounds boring, I know. But for lack of a better word, it’ll do.

Even when things get worse, I will keep choosing what builds life.

And just to be crystal clear: choosing that mindset is not denial. I’m not pretending things are fine when clearly they’re not. It’s my way of refusing… rebelling even, to let chaos decide who I become.

Fingers crossed.

A note on fear

Towards the end of last year, I wrote a lot about fear narratives.

And I want to say this upfront: fear itself is not the enemy. Fear is information. Fear is our body’s early-warning system. It’s our nervous system doing its job. But fear is also the easiest energy for systems to hijack.

Fear keeps us reactive. Fear keeps us scrolling. Fear keeps us isolated. Fear keeps us busy arguing about symptoms, while the deeper causes stay intact.

So I’m not trying to erase fear. I’m choosing to relate to fear differently this year. Not as a dictator, but as data. A signal that says: slow down Gregg, pay attention, choose carefully, and maybe most importantly…

don’t go at this alone.

What I mean by “choosing what builds life”

I mean choosing the things that keep us human when the world tries to turn us into spectators. I mean choosing the things that increase our capacity to think, feel, connect, and act with integrity. I mean choosing the things that don’t just help me cope… but help me contribute.

And it made me wonder: what does “building life” actually look like in practice?

So here’s what I’m committing to in 2026. Not as a perfection project, but more like a direction I want to keep walking toward.

(Some of these showed up in my last post of 2025, but I’m updating them with this new… considered intention.)

Seed 1: Build connection that can hold pressure

If 2025 taught us anything, it’s that isolation is expensive. Isolation makes us easier to manipulate. Easier to exhaust. Easier to convince that nothing matters.

So one seed I’m planting deliberately is community connection that can hold pressure. Not performative togetherness. And honestly, I’m done with events that are basically just “networking.” We need real connection.

What that connection sounds like

The kind where you can say:

• “I’m not okay today.”
• “I don’t know what to think.”
• “I’m scared.” “I’m angry.”
• “I disagree — but I still want to understand you.”

Because if we’re entering an era where the ground keeps shifting, then relationships aren’t a nice-to-have. They’re basic infrastructure.

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Seed 2: Practice information hygiene

This is where Rewrite Reality gets practical.

If the world is going to escalate, then attention becomes even more political than it already is.

So I’m doubling down on information hygiene:

• Staying informed without living inside the feed.
• Choosing depth over volume.
• Resisting outrage as entertainment.
• Learning to spot fear narratives.
• Returning to long-form thinking.
• Stepping away when my nervous system is flooded

I don’t want to be the person who can name every crisis but can’t feel their own body. And honestly… during parts of 2025, I wasn’t far from it. And I don’t want to become the person who’s always “up to date” but has no energy left to love their friends well.

My mantra this year is: If chaos is the weather, then information hygiene is how I stay warm.

Seed 3: Strengthen the nervous system

This one is personal.

If I want to be capable this year, truly capable… then my inner work can’t be an afterthought. Because it’s not enough to have the “right” analysis.

If my nervous system is constantly overwhelmed, I’ll default to:

• overworking
• doomscrolling
• shutting down
• snapping at the people I care about
• trying to control what can’t be controlled
• or numbing out completely

So I’m treating nervous system care as part of my work. Not self-help nor luxury. But a simple responsibility.

Rest. Movement. Nature. Breathing. Boundaries. The boring basics that keep a human being human.

Because the future isn’t only something we’re heading toward. It’s something we’re rehearsing in our bodies every day.

Seed 4: Make meaning through art and storytelling

This is the heart of Gregg the Artivist. And it’s the heart of Rewrite Reality. When reality becomes unstable, storytelling becomes a survival tool. Not the “everything happens for a reason” kind. The meaning-making kind. The kind that helps us name what’s happening, connect the dots, feel what we’ve been avoiding… and imagine alternatives that don’t yet exist.

This year, I want my work to keep doing what it’s meant to do:

• tell the truth without feeding panic
• humanise what systems try to reduce to headlines
• create space for nuance
• remind people they’re not alone
• and keep pointing toward what’s worth building

Because if we lose imagination, we lose direction. And if we lose direction, we become easier to manage.

Seed 5: Choose courage over performance

This is the one I’m nervous to write. Because courage isn’t just standing for something online.

Sometimes courage looks like:

• admitting you were wrong
• staying in conversation when it would be easier to label and leave
• listening to someone you don’t agree with
• setting boundaries where you’ve been people-pleasing
• doing the quiet work when no one is clapping
• telling the truth in a room that prefers comfort

This year, I’m not interested in being the loudest voice. I’m interested in being a steady one. Not perfect and not fearless. Just committed.

If 2026 is going to be a year of escalation, then let it also be a year where we quietly become more alive.

My Choosing What Builds Life 2026 vow

I can’t control the world. But I can choose what I feed.

So here’s my vow for 2026:

• I will stay informed without living inside the feed.
• I will treat fear as data, not a dictator.
• I will build community that can hold nuance — not just agreement.
• I will care for my nervous system like it matters — because it does.
• I will keep making art that tells the truth and protects the human.
• I will plant small seeds that can outlive the headlines.

And even when things get worse, I will keep choosing what builds life.

If you’re reading this and feeling it too

If your body has been tight the last few days… you’re not alone.

If the headlines are making you feel like the world is tipping… you’re not alone.

If you’re trying to stay optimistic without becoming naive… you’re not alone.

I don’t have a neat ending to offer you.

But I do have an invitation:

Choose one small life-building action this week. Something real. Something local. Something human. Message a friend and ask how they’re really doing. Cook a meal and share it. Take a walk without your phone. Join a community space that values honest conversation. Make something with your hands. Write down what you believe in, and what you refuse to become.

Because these small choices aren’t meaningless.

They’re kind of practice or a rehearsal. They’re how we build the future, even while the present is shaking.

And if 2026 is going to be a year of escalation, then let it also be a year where we quietly become more alive.

Even when things get worse, I will keep choosing what builds life.

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FAQ’s: Choosing What Builds Life

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Citations:

• [1] Reuters. Trump says United States will run Venezuela after United States captures Nicolás Maduro. January 3, 2026.  
• [2] Reuters. Was the United States capture of Venezuela’s president legal. January 3, 2026.  
• [3] The Guardian. European leaders divided and torn in response to United States ousting of Maduro. January 4, 2026.  
• [4] EEAS. Venezuela statement by the High Representative on the aftermath of the United States intervention. January 4, 2026.  
  

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