The world feels raw right now.

Division. Discord. Rage.

Everywhere we turn, voices clash. Lines are drawn. People retreat to their corners. And the anger simmers, often spilling over.

It’s exhausting to live in the middle of it. To try to show up for others. To be steady in the storm. To hold space for both pain and hope.

It matters. But it’s also hard.

And if we’re not careful, it will consume us.

Here’s the image: A boat’s brass prop turning in salt water. Left unprotected, the salt eats away at the brass. The fix? A zinc anode attached to the shaft. The zinc corrodes first. It sacrifices itself so the brass is spared.

It’s a brilliant bit of engineering. But it’s a terrible way to live.

Don’t be zinc.

Because life is not about losing yourself for the sake of everyone else. Not to the point of corrosion. Not until there’s nothing left of you.

Even the most powerful leaders know this. Bill Gates is famous for his “Think Weeks,” time set apart to read, reflect, and recharge away from the demands of Microsoft. Warren Buffett deliberately blocks large portions of his calendar to think, read, and be still. Oprah has spoken often about the necessity of silence, prayer, and retreat. The most visionary leaders understand they cannot give their best unless they create space to be renewed.

We need the same.

Because the demands on us are endless. Another meeting. Another call. Another crisis. Another pull at our attention.

If we’re not intentional, we will be eaten away. Just like zinc.

So here’s the invitation: practice self-care as if your life depends on it. Because it does.

Rest. Real rest. Time when the phone is off. Time when the world turns without you.

Silence. Reflection. Space to breathe. Space to listen.

Care for the body. Sleep. Movement. Nourishment. Walks in the woods. Water to drink. A check-up when you need one.

Care for the heart. Therapy when it’s called for. A trusted friend. A circle of people who lift you up.

Joy. Play. Laughter. Music. Art. Time with those who delight you and remind you why life is good.

None of this is selfish. None of it indulgent. It is essential.

Because you can’t pour from an empty cup. You can’t give what you do not have.

So stop being zinc.

Be whole. Be grounded. Be alive with energy and joy. Serve not by corroding away, but by shining with resilience and grace.

That’s how we endure together. That’s how we thrive in a time of division. Not by grinding ourselves down. But by shining bright enough to light the way.