A Brazilian Girl's Guide @laurafaritos - Tumblr Blog

Soft Power in the Age of Collapse

An essay on why nervous system regulation may be my most radical & magical response yet.

TL;DR — The Questions I Can’t Stop Asking

Where is the line between staying informed… and becoming consumed by grief, anger, and despair?

At what point do ordinary people actually make a difference — individually or collectively?

If we’re not the ones leading revolutions… then what the fuck are we supposed to do while the world is falling apart?

What if the answer isn’t louder, bigger, or more extreme… but quieter, smaller, and more personal?

Aiaiai!

If you feel overstimulated… make some noise!

If you want to stop doomscrolling… make some noise!

If you want to talk about the end of the world and the role of ordinary people in preventing that… make some noiseeeee!

Hello, hello… my little bats! My little ghouls! My little spookies!

How are we doing today?

Have you been drinking water? Have you been eating protein? Have you been eating fibre? When was the last time you drank warm lemon water first thing in the morning? When was the last time you did something for your lymphatic system?

Have you tried lymphatic drainage?? Myofascial release?? Somatic workouts?? Feng shui??

Because the truth is… I have not been doing ANY of these things. Mostly because I didn’t even know about them until recently. But now that I do know about them… I’m like—okay… wait… hold on…Is this the blueprint???

Is this how I become a soft girl in her grandmacore era???

Because I want that. I wannnnnt that. But it’s kind of hard to be a soft girl in her grandmacore era when it feels like the world is on the verge of collapsing at any given moment.

Where is the line between staying informed… and becoming consumed by grief, anger, and despair? At what point do ordinary people actually make a difference — individually or collectively? If we’re not the ones leading revolutions… then what the fuck are we supposed to do while the world is falling apart? And what if the answer isn’t louder, bigger, or more extreme… but quieter, smaller, and more personal?

Okay. Now that we’ve set the emotional tone of the spiral…

Welcome to Episode 01. A Brazilian Girl’s Guide to Soft Power in the Age of Collapse, where we’re doing a deep dive on why nervous system regulation might just be my most radical — and slightly magical — response to the absolute shit-show world we seem to be living in.

What if the answer is smaller than we think?

I don’t know about you, but here are some of the most burning questions that have been living in my head rent-free over the last few months…

Can I design a life around a regulated nervous system? Where do I begin to heal from autistic burnout? How can I prevent it? Is it possible to reclaim my attention, creativity and sovereignty? What happens when women choose themselves before relationships?

So here I am, resurfacing from the shadows, with a long-form content series named “A Brazilian Girl’s Guide”, which is my creative outlet for essays, podcasts and videos about anything and everything related to love, fear or foreign places.

I want the Spring 2026 season to explore rituals, regulation & resistance because this is the saga I am currently invested in. I’m passionate about this journey, and wholeheartedly believe that I’m not alone in the struggles driving me to this journey.

What do I mean when I say I’m passionate about rituals, regulation and resistance? And what does that have to do with my overall theme of love, fear or foreign places?

Well… I’m passionate about the rituals we must create in order to love ourselves and to honour the life we are building for ourselves. I’m passionate about the emotional regulation skills we must develop when we are constantly living in fear. I’m passionate about the creative strategies we must adapt when treading uncharted waters during unprecedented times.

Now that we’ve established the questions I do have answers to, let’s go back to the questions I don’t have answers to — the questions I will seek answers to over the next few posts:

Where is the line between paying attention to the reality revealed to us… and living a life full of grief and despair because our physical, mental and spiritual well-being are being controlled by that which is out of our control?

At what point do ordinary people individually make a difference in the world? And at what point do enough ordinary people collectively make a difference in the world? What if the answer to all of these questions isn’t louder, bigger, or more extreme? What if it’s quieter, smaller, and more personal than we’ve been led to believe?

These are the questions I’ve been asking myself. And if you’ve also been asking yourself the same questions, I do not have the answers! Maybe you do. Maybe you don’t. And that’s okay. It’s okay that neither of us have the answers. The very questioning of these things is a win. We’re not doing this for the plot. We’re doing this for the arc. It’s our mutual self-discovery!

Soooo… let’s go through some sort of collective character development, shall we?

Anyway, let’s talk about the role of ordinary people throughout history, what that means for me and what it could mean to you~~~

What the fuck are ordinary people supposed to do?

What is the difference between radical, hardcore power in the age of revolution… and soft, almost magical power in the age of collapse? Because we talk a lot about extraordinary people during revolutions… But what happens to ordinary people during the fall of an empire?

When you think of rebellions, what do you think of? Do you think of protests? Riots? Revolutions? Do you picture someone standing on a barricade? Someone giving a speech right before getting arrested? Someone getting shot in the middle of a speech?

Here’s my controversial take:

On one hand, the “Big History” tends to romanticize sudden, locally contained revolutions driven by catastrophic circumstances in hopeless societies. On the other hand, the “Big Media” tends to romanticize slow, widespread revolutions driven by extraordinary people instilling collective hope.

But where do ordinary people, like you and me, end up in these narratives? Hmmm? Do we end up… dead in a ditch? Are we nothing but collateral damage that doesn’t even make it to the history books or the media adaptations? What the fuck are we supposed to do during the unfolding of historical events that the Big History and Big Media have yet to acknowledge — and probably won’t acknowledge for a few years?

What do we do in the meantime, while the world as we know it seems to be falling apart?

Do we simply tune out, pretend everything is fine, and hope for the best without collectively pushing for accountability, sustainability and reform? Or do we simply tune in, fully acknowledging that everything is shit, and wait for the worst to happen when the people in power inevitably make this planet uninhabitable?

What. The. Fuck. Are. Ordinary. People. Supposed. To. Do?

Why does everything feel so heavy all the time?

Soooo, I want to talk about the ways that ordinary people can live meaningful lives in 2026...But I cannot talk about it before I address the shit show we are experiencing.

I don’t know about you, but I’m angry. I’m so fucking angry. I am angry all the time. Well, not all the time. Most of the time. I’m angry any time I tune into the news — yet I can’t keep myself from tuning in because I’d rather be angry and aware of reality than be happy and living in an illusion. Whenever I pick up my phone to doomscroll, I brace myself.

Either I’m about to feel anger — yet another ridiculous headline about some stupid world leader’s newest decision to commit to the bit… of genocide. Fuck off.

Or I’m about to feel grief — yet another first-person account of the horrible things happening… during the genocide… that is the literal result of a few people’s greed. Oil. Land. Resources. Fuck right off.

And if not anger or grief, then despair — yet another scientific study discussing the long-term evolutionary and environmental impacts of yet another stupid fucking war crime decided by yet another stupid man (or pick-me woman) in power. Fuck all the way off.

Let’s talk about some examples of what currently makes me angry.

It angers me to look at the level of casualties and humanitarian crises brought upon innocent people while the people signing these orders do so from the comfort of their overpriced leather chairs, in their bloodstained yachts, a cocktail in one hand, an 8 ball of coke on the other.

It angers me that innocent people in the masses are collectively facing the consequences of the commands of people whose names are openly, internationally associated with human trafficking, abuse, and exploitation.

It angers me when people say things like “we are in the wrong timeline” because we are EXACTLY in the timeline we HAVE BEEN IN. All these horrors HAVE BEEN a part of our reality for so long that they are literally intertwined with the systems the world runs on.

And it really, really, really fucking angers me whenever I turn on the TV and someone asks for the remainder of the unredacted files. Not because of accountability. But because they want the emotional reaction. Because they want the spectacle. Because they want to feel something.

And then I remember I’m just an ordinary person, with no power to change these situations whatsoever. And that makes me even angrier.

Now let’s talk about grief. Because it’s not just headlines. It’s people. First-person accounts of survivors. People living through war. People living through displacement. People living through systems that were never built for them to survive.

And then there’s despair. Because even if you try to zoom out, even if you try to think long-term… You’re still hit with the same thing. Artificial intelligence and cognitive atrophy. Data centers and global water shortages. Environmental and biological warfare.

And none of this is new. It’s not “the wrong timeline”. It’s our reality. A reality that has been building for years. A reality that has finally come to the surface.

So… yeah~~~

When I’m not angry, I’m grieving. When I’m not grieving, I’m in despair. I’m angry at the high-impact choices I have no control over. I’m grieving for the people I cannot help. I’m in despair every time I think about where all of this leads.

I don’t want to live like this anymore!

And now that I’ve finally gotten this shit off my chest, I can finally get to the bottom of this post. The reason I started writing this in the first place.

I don’t want to live like this. I don’t want to live in anger, grief and despair. Do you?

When I first started noticing these things, I felt that my feelings were timely. But nothing has changed. And I’m still living in anger, grief and despair.

I would like to believe these are temporary feelings based on temporary events. But it’s already been a few years now. What’s to say it won’t be a few more? What the fuck am I supposed to do in the meantime while nothing changes?

Is there anything I can do to contribute to the change I want to see? Is there anything you can do to contribute to the change you want to see? And most importantly, is there anything we can do, together, collectively, to build the future world we want to live in?

Because I refuse to believe that the only options available to us are to pretend everything is fine… or fully collapse into despair. I refuse! There has to be another way to go about life.

Maybe we’ve misunderstood where power actually lives!

So now that we’ve talked about the ways I’ve been feeling for the past few years BECAUSE of the shit show happening around the world… I’d like to talk about the ways I would like to feel for the next few years DESPITE of the shit happening around the world. And I’d like to put an emphasis on the power of ordinary people. Because there is power in the collective.

Big History and Big Media will never acknowledge ordinary people’s role in history. But the truth is… ordinary people have kept things going no matter what. There is so much power in keeping things going. Soooo much power.

No matter the historical event, the ordinary people alive at the time kept things going. They changed. They adapted. They evolved with the times.

And here we are now, living through what many people call unprecedented historical times. Yet everywhere I look, all I see is anger, grief and despair.

And obviously, as you can see from my gigantic rant above, this feeling people are collectively experiencing is not coming out of nowhere.

We don’t need the Scooby Gang to unmask any monsters. We don’t need Sherlock Holmes to solve the mystery. We don’t need a comic book villain to break the fourth wall and threaten humanity. Because everything that sounds fictional… Is already happening in real life.

So… yeah~~~

Our collective feelings of anger, grief and despair are not coming out of nowhere. The first four months of 2026 alone are enough to justify feeling this way.

From my perspective, this has been 2026 if I look to my right:

“Happy New Year! Boom. More wars. Boom. More school shootings. Boom. Release the files to distract people from the wars. Boom. Start new wars to distract people from the files…”

And on and on and on. All of that is to say: 2026 is not for the weak!

But here’s the thing.

When people live in that kind of instability long enough… They start to believe they have no power at all. They believe they have no impact on history whatsoever. They believe that the only potential for hope comes from those currently in power stepping the fuck up.

Which we know they will not… unless we make them.

But, again, are those really our only options? There has to be another way!

Soft rebellion vs. hard rebellion?

Sure, we may feel powerless in the dramatic version of a revolution… But the power of the people does not exist only in explosive, dramatic, hardcore rebellions. It also exists in quiet, rebuilding, softcore rebellions that pave the way for the future. Now THAT is the real deal.

Stay with me. It’s gonna feel like I’m babbling, going on multiple different tangents… But I promise it all circles back to the same point.

Think with me. Let’s see if the math maths. If hard rebellions are the destruction of systems… Then soft rebellions are the rebuilding of societies.

Because the thing is, most of us are not Alexander Hamilton. We are not standing on barricades. We are not getting arrested for speeches. We are not getting shot during speeches.

No, no, no. Most of us have to wake up tomorrow. Go to work. Pay bills. Take care of people or animals who depend on us. We have ordinary lives. And because of that…

We assume we are powerless. But we are wrong. We are so wrong. We. Are. Not. Powerless. I can’t stress that enough. We just don’t have power in the way we’ve been taught to recognize.

Because while we may not have the power to destroy systems… we DO have the power to build the future culture, habits and priorities of society.

Will we use that power wisely? You tell me! Are we building a future where we stand by and watch the world burn… or are we building a future where small actions repeated over time shape culture and set up the next generation for something better?

Personally? I’d like to go with the latter. And I have reason to believe the cosmos would agree.

The planets are aligning in our favour!

Heeeeere comes Laura with more mystical, magical, occult woo-woo bullshit!

The thing with 2026 is that, as chaotic as it feels, none of this feels like a coincidence. Astrologers would argue that everything that has happened so far has been fully predictable. If you follow the astrology girlies, you’ve probably heard people talking about this year for a long time. And not in a vague “something might happen” kind of way.

Astrologers have been watching the mid-2020s closely because several major planetary cycles converge around this time. One of the biggest ones involves Pluto.

In astrology, Pluto represents deep transformation — the collapse and rebirth of power structures. Pluto spent the last sixteen years in Capricorn, the sign associated with governments, institutions, hierarchies, and systems of authority.

Think about that timeline.

Pluto entered Capricorn in 2008 — the year of the global financial crisis. Since then, we’ve watched institutions lose public trust, governments destabilize, corporations consolidate power, and corruption scandals pile up faster than anyone can keep track of them.

Now Pluto has moved into Aquarius. Aquarius is associated with collective movements, networks, technological change, and grassroots power. The last time Pluto was in Aquarius, the world saw events like the American Revolution and the French Revolution — massive upheavals that reshaped political systems and ideas about power.

So yes, the astrology girlies have been watching this transition very closely. Rightfully so.

But Pluto isn’t the only planetary shift happening right now. Another major cycle involves the meeting of Saturn and Neptune. In astrology, Saturn represents structure — governments, institutions, systems, laws, the hard architecture of reality.

Neptune represents dreams, ideology, belief systems, illusions, and collective imagination. Every thirty-six years or so, these two planets meet in what astrologers call a conjunction. When they do, astrologers often interpret it as a moment when the systems people believed in begin dissolving while new narratives start forming.

The last time Saturn and Neptune aligned this closely was around 1989 — the year of the Fall of the Berlin Wall and the beginning of the collapse of the Cold War world order. Real shit!

So when astrologers see Saturn and Neptune coming together again in the mid-2020s, at the same time Pluto is entering Aquarius and other outer planets are shifting signs… pay attention!

Because historically, moments like this tend to coincide with massive ideological shifts — the kind that reshape political systems, cultural narratives, and technological landscapes for decades afterward.

In other words, we are living through the kind of moment that historians eventually summarize with a sentence like:

“The mid-2020s marked a period of global upheaval and transformation.”

But living inside that moment doesn’t feel like a tidy sentence. Living inside it feels chaotic. It feels exhausting. And if you’re even remotely sensitive to the emotional atmosphere of the world — which, let’s be honest, a lot of us neurodivergent witchy women absolutely are — it can start to feel like the weight of the entire planet is sitting directly on your nervous system.

So if everything is pointing toward this being a historical year, then the question becomes even more urgent. If history is accelerating right now, do we want to spend it as passive NPCs watching the chaos unfold? Or do we want to become main characters in our own small corners of history? Because I, for one, am tired of playing the NPC.

I am done with feeling powerless. I am done with feeling hopeless. I. AM. DONE!

So no — this isn’t just me individually spiralling. Something bigger is shifting. Whether you believe in the Age of Aquarius or not, whether you believe in astrology or not, the matter of fact is that everywhere you look points toward 2026 being a historical year with ripple effects.

The anxiety people are feeling is not imaginary. It’s a reflection of a hella unstable world.

And if that’s true, then the question isn’t just what is happening — or which extraordinary people will be remembered for it… The question is: what happens to the rest of us while it’s happening? What do ordinary people do… while history is being written around them?

Soft rebellion in my personal life?

There is no one-size-fits-all approach to rebellion. The way I rebel may not be the way you rebel. But here are some examples of soft rebellions I deeply respect: Creating art. Building community. Teaching ideas. Writing essays. Raising thoughtful children. Volunteering.

None of these things feels like dramatic revolutions. You might ask yourself:

Why create art when war is looming? Why build community when the world feels like it’s ending? Why teach ideas when nobody seems to be listening? Why write essays when nobody seems to be reading?

Again… what the fuck is the point of soft rebellion? But that’s exactly the point. An act of faith.

We rarely see immediate results, and we often don’t live long enough to see the full fruits of our labour. But even without dramatic revolutions, we can still shape the future through small, intentional acts.

Soft power shapes culture. Culture shapes conversations. Conversations shape imagination. And imagination eventually shapes the future. While loud rebellions destroy systems, soft rebellions change minds. And changing minds is what makes systemic change possible later.

This is how I choose to fight back:

I choose to write longform. I choose to think deeply. I choose to create conversations. I choose culture-building over doomsday despair. Yes, this may be a small, teeny weeny, tiny act of rebellion. But small actions repeated over time shape culture.

So let’s return to the original question~~~

What does rebellion look like for ordinary people during uncertain times?

Not everyone will lead a revolution. Not everyone will become a historic figure. And that’s okay. But anyone — and I mean anyone — can participate in soft rebellion. And when enough people do, something powerful happens. Culture shifts. Ideas evolve. Communities grow. And the future slowly changes.

Sometimes the most radical thing a person can do is recycle a water bottle. Other times, the most radical thing someone can do is bring down an empire. For me, the most radical thing I can do as an ordinary person is refuse to be ignorant, cynical, or disconnected — and instead choose to build something meaningful and lasting.

So here’s where that lands in my actual life~~~

If this really is a historical year — if astrologers are right that we’re living through a moment where old systems are dissolving and new ones are being born — then I don’t want to spend it feeling powerless.

And I definitely don’t want to spend it acting like an NPC in someone else’s story.

I want to become a main character in my own life. Not in a dramatic, revolutionary way. I’m not storming a palace tomorrow morning. But in the quiet, persistent way that ordinary people have always shaped history.

Through softcore rebellion. And for me, that rebellion starts much closer to home than people might expect. It starts with my nervous system. Because if the world is chaotic — and let’s be honest, it absolutely is — then the most radical thing I can do is refuse to let that chaos completely destroy my mental and physical health.

So I am choosing to regulate my nervous system. I am choosing to heal my gut health. I am choosing to hydrate my fascia and actually take care of the physical body that carries me through this life.

Because how can anyone fight for a better world if they are chronically exhausted, chronically inflamed, chronically dysregulated? That’s not rebellion. That’s burnout. And burnout serves absolutely nobody. It certainly does not serve me!

So I’m starting with my body. Then I’m starting with my home. I’m organizing it. Customizing it. Making it a place that actually supports the life I want to live instead of draining the life out of me every time I walk through the door.

I want my home to be intentional. I want it to feel analogue. I want fewer glowing screens screaming at me from every direction. I want better boundaries with technology. I want to reclaim the simple pleasure of physical things. Books. DVDs. Records.

Objects that exist in the real world.

I’m tired of streaming services constantly shifting the ground beneath our feet. I’m tired of the endless subscription model of modern life.

I want to collect physical media again. Not because it’s trendy or nostalgic, but because collecting things makes me feel connected to myself. It makes me feel rooted in the world instead of floating in the endless digital void.

And maybe that sounds small to you. And maybe it really is. But small acts of intention repeated over time create culture.

Then there’s the biggest rebellion of all — publishing my work. For years now, I have been creating things. Essays. Stories. Art. Ideas. Entire worlds in different media and formats.

And almost nobody knows about it. Why? Because I’ve been too scared to share it. Too afraid of exposure. Too afraid of criticism. Too afraid of the internet doing what the internet does best: turning human vulnerability into content for strangers.

But not anymore. Not in this historical ass year of our Lord 2026. If this is truly a turning point in history, then I refuse to go through it silently, hiding my voice. I will create art even when the world feels like it’s falling apart. I will share my thoughts even though it terrifies me. I will publish my work even if nobody reads it.

Because creation itself is a form of resistance. Creation says: the future still exists. Creation says: human imagination still matters. Creation says: we are not done yet.

What happens when ordinary people choose differently?

Again, I don’t know about you, but I refuse to allow the fall of an empire to be the reason my ordinary life has no meaning. Because here’s something that keeps hitting me every time I spiral into doomscrolling:

There are people around the world right now living through war. Famine. Genocide. Entire populations are experiencing levels of suffering that most of us can barely comprehend. And some of those people would dream of nothing more than the privilege of living an ordinary life.

Going to work. Coming home to a home you care for. Cooking dinner for yourself or your family. Walking your dog. Watching a movie. Nothing extraordinary. Just a peaceful, ordinary life. That is a privilege many of us take completely for granted.

And instead of honoring that privilege, we sometimes respond in one of two extreme ways. Either we pretend nothing is wrong in the world and disengage completely… or we allow the weight of global suffering to paralyze us into believing nothing we do matters.

I refuse both of those options. I refuse to be ignorant. I refuse to be cynical. I refuse to be disconnected. I REFUSE! And I also refuse to allow the negativity of the world to permanently reshape my nervous system and mental health.

I will stay aware. I will stay informed. I will rage when rage is necessary. I will grieve when grief is necessary. But I will NOT live in despair. I will NOT accept things for what they are and stand by while a few hundred people destroy the world for jokes.

I WILL make a conscious choice to build a meaningful life. Not only for myself, but for the ordinary people unfortunate enough to be living in the geographical locations currently facing war, famine, genocide, and all other consequences of war.

Hopefully, I can post about my journey in a way that encourages others to do the same.

Because when ordinary people begin living more consciously — more aligned with their values, their boundaries, their creativity — something powerful happens. Culture shifts. Communities strengthen. Ideas spread. And eventually those ideas ripple outward into the systems we live in. Which brings us back to the recycling analogy.

Yes, this planet is struggling. But imagine how much worse things would be if ordinary people had simply decided that environmental destruction was completely out of their hands.

Millions of small actions add up. Millions of people making conscious choices add up. Millions of soft rebellions add up. Maybe none of us individually will change the course of history. But collectively? Ordinary people like us can shape the future more than we realize.

I refuse to build my life around despair!

So if 2026 really is one of those years when the world feels like it’s turning a page… I’m not going to sit quietly in the background watching the story unfold.

I’m going to live my life. I’m going to create. I’m going to think critically without outsourcing my brain. I’m going to build. I’m going to take care of my body, my home, my work, and my community. And I’m going to do so intentionally.

Not because I think it will fix everything. But because refusing to surrender to despair is, in itself, a form of rebellion. A softcore rebellion. A rebellion for hot girls in their grandma era. And if enough of us choose that path — ordinary people building meaningful lives even in uncertain times — then maybe the future will turn out better than we think. Because no, I cannot control the people in power. I cannot single-handedly stop wars. I cannot personally undo the systems that made this world so unstable to begin with.

But I can choose what kind of life I build in response. I can choose what I protect. I can choose what I create. I can choose what I refuse to normalize inside my own body, my own home, and my own mind. I can choose to stay aware without becoming consumed. I can choose to stay human in a world that increasingly rewards disconnection.

And maybe that sounds small. Maybe it is small. But small things, repeated over time, are what shape a life. And lives, repeated across millions of ordinary people, are what shape a culture. In conclusion, I do not want to live in constant anger, grief, and despair.

I do not want doomscrolling to become my primary mode of consciousness. I do not want the chaos of the world to permanently colonize my nervous system. I want to be informed. I want to be awake. I want to be emotionally honest about the times we are living through.

But I also want to be well. I want to be present. I want to make things. I want to build a life that reflects my values instead of merely reacting to the violations of other people’s values.

And if that is where my rebellion begins — in my body, in my home, in my work, in my attention, in my willingness to keep creating — then so be it. Because maybe the most radical thing an ordinary person can do in the age of collapse… is to remain fully human.

Alright… Thank you so much for listening (or reading) or spending this time with me. I really, really appreciate you being here. If anything in this episode resonated with you (or didn’t) I would genuinely love to hear your thoughts. Do you agree? Do you disagree? Are you somewhere in between? Let me know in the comments, or wherever you found this.

And if you’re on your own journey with nervous system regulation… I’m really curious — what does that actually look like for you right now? Because for me, this is still very much a work in progress. And I have a feeling I’m not the only one figuring this out in real time.

So stay tuned for the rest of the season — Rituals, Regulation & Resistance — where we’ll keep exploring what it means to build a meaningful life… in the middle of all this chaos.

Until then… take care of your body, take care of your mind, and don’t let the world convince you that being human is a weakness. It might just be the most radical thing we have.

I’ll see you in the next one. Tchau, tchau!