I watched the news from America this morning, and for once, I had nothing to say.

I immediately remembered why I had stopped watching the news.

It's one giant groan. The world is fucking groaning! War, the cost of living, morals being eroded, all seemingly accepted as completely normal. Anger, hatred and fear. It's everywhere you look. The creeping darkness seems to have obscured the good news stories entirely.

Perhaps what troubles me most isn't what is happening, but the possibility that we're becoming accustomed to it.

I've spent the last few years trying to simplify my life. Concentrating on the things that matter. My family. My health. My home. The small things I can actually do something about.

But simplifying my life doesn't mean I have stopped caring about the world outside it.

I still care. Sometimes more than I know what to do with.

I like to stay informed about the things that matter to me, but it's becoming increasingly difficult to find the good news. Sometimes it feels as though someone, somewhere, has decided that anger and fear are more useful than hope. Our so-called leaders seem incapable of setting a decent example, and even our local communities appear to be losing some of their spirit.

Social media has a lot to answer for, I think.

I've seen first-hand how the echo chambers amplify the rhetoric surrounding everyday life here in Kent. Neighbours arguing about dog shit in the park, even though it's probably fox scat rather than some evil dog walker hell-bent on getting poo onto the shoes of innocent children playing nearby.

It's ridiculous when you think about it.

Moaning and groaning seems to have become the default setting for some people. Everybody has something to complain about, somebody to blame, or an opinion that simply must be heard.

Find joy. That's what I keep telling myself.

But it's not always easy.

The world order appears to have been upended, perhaps permanently. The war in Ukraine continues, and I cannot see an agreeable end to it. I worry about what might happen if Ukraine falls, particularly whether Russia would feel emboldened to push further into Europe. The prospect of a wider conflict frightens me, as does the relentless spread of disinformation and division.

I don't know how much of the worst-case speculation will ever come to pass. I sincerely hope none of it does.

But the uncertainty is exhausting.

Then there's the cost of living, which seems to be on an almost vertical trajectory. We're finding it increasingly difficult to justify even modest treats now and again. Nothing extravagant, just the little things that make everyday life a bit more enjoyable.

That's not normal. Or at least, I don't want to believe it should be.

Just the other day, I started thinking about selling my car and buying an electric motorcycle, a Royal Enfield Flying Flea, as a cheaper way of commuting to work. It's a relatively modest ambition, really. Something practical that might save a few quid and bring a little enjoyment into the daily routine.

But even that thought was accompanied by the nagging question of how long any savings might last before another global crisis sends prices spiralling again.

It's absurd, isn't it? I'm worrying about the consequences of international events while trying to decide whether I can afford to swap a small hatchback for a motorcycle.

Perhaps that's what bothers me most. The feeling that events completely beyond our control are finding their way into every corner of our lives.

And then there's America.

The news that the Pentagon plans to livestream the execution of Nidal Hasan by firing squad left me almost speechless.

What the actual fuck?

His crimes were appalling. Thirteen people lost their lives in the Fort Hood shootings, and their families have suffered unimaginable pain. None of that is in question.

But are we seriously contemplating broadcasting a man's execution for people to watch?

How is that normal? How is capital punishment still a thing in modern society in 2026? And what does it say about us if the deliberate taking of a human life becomes a public spectacle?

I cannot reconcile that with my understanding of a civilised society.

Meanwhile, the American midterm elections are approaching, and I find myself wondering whether the results will be accepted. That alone is a deeply troubling thought. Whatever the outcome, I worry about the possibility of further political violence and division.

My greatest fear is that America might eventually tear itself apart.

I hope I'm wrong. I really do.

I'm not an expert in international relations, and I certainly don't have a crystal ball. I cannot predict what will happen in America, Ukraine or anywhere else. But I can recognise that something feels profoundly wrong when the prospect of political violence, war and the erosion of basic human decency becomes another ordinary part of the daily news.

Perhaps that's the normalisation paradox. The more extraordinary and disturbing events become, the more accustomed to them we seem to get.

And that's what frightens me.

Not just the events themselves, but the possibility that one day I'll read something truly awful and simply shrug my shoulders.

There's nothing to see here. Keep your eyes forward. Don't be distracted by the noises in your peripheral vision.

Is that really what we've become?

So, what is a boy to do?

I suppose I'll go back to limiting the news, taking care of my family and concentrating on the things I can actually do something about.

But I don't want to become indifferent. I don't want to reach a point where public executions, wars and the erosion of basic human decency seem perfectly normal.

I still want to find joy in the ordinary things. A ride on a motorcycle. A walk in the countryside. An evening with my family. Making music. Writing something that matters to me.

Nothing complicated. Nothing extravagant.

Perhaps that's the balance I'm looking for. To remain aware of what's happening without allowing it to consume me. To recognise that the world is a complicated, sometimes frightening place without feeling personally responsible for everything that's wrong with it.

I've spent years learning that simplicity makes life easier to cope with. I don't want to lose that lesson just because the world seems determined to make everything more difficult.

I'll keep my focus narrow, take each day as it comes and look after the people I love.

But I'll keep caring, too.

I can turn off the news. I don't have to turn off my conscience.