Time and again, we write about our emergency pedagogical activities and projects and describe in our reports the difficult contextual conditions under which our colleagues work worldwide. In Ukraine, for example, training sessions are interrupted by air raid alarms or even held in bunkers. In Gaza, due to the ongoing fighting, feelings of hopelessness and fear have become ever-present – even for the local educators. In the Sagaing region of Myanmar, many buildings were destroyed by the earthquake, forcing our colleagues to work in garages or temporary shelters. Despite all these difficulties, they do everything they can to create safe spaces for children. They aim to give children the opportunity to process their often traumatic experiences through artistic and experiential activities and to engage in shared experiences.

But how do our colleagues care for themselves to retain the strength needed to continue supporting children, youth, and even other adults under such extremely difficult conditions like war, natural disasters, and personal loss? How do they manage to nurture their inner resources?

Inner resources and ways of processing experiences are always individual. External cultural factors also play a role. But wherever there is growing understanding of what is happening, new ways of approaching those experiences and their effects emerge. Türkü, a Waldorf teacher and current participant in the Emergency and Traumapedagogical training in Turkey, shares her realization that she often prioritized the external, which led to constant stress: "That could have led to burnout. But I realized that I need to pay attention to myself, develop compassion for myself, and listen to my inner voice. This strengthens both my physical and emotional resilience and my inner balance."

Colleagues from Mexico and Colombia responded to the earlier question by describing how they integrate daily rhythm through morning and evening circles and use this structure as a space for connection: "In our team, self-care is not a solitary task – we take care of each other. Through morning and evening team circles, a buddy system for mutual support, open conversations, shared laughter, and regular reflection, we create spaces for genuine connection, emotional support, and collective growth. Because those who care for themselves can be more joyful and present for others."

Rhythm and structure, as well as self-efficacy, are also described as helpful by colleagues in Ukraine and Lebanon. When war broke out between Lebanon and Israel in September 2024, local colleagues told us how grateful they were to know they could still act. Their knowledge of trauma and what children now need helped them perceive the situation differently than in 2006 – when no Emergency and Traumapedagogical training had yet been available in the region.

Ukraine has experienced severe attacks in recent weeks – some of the most intense since the war began, including on Kyiv on July 4. Our colleagues there reported how the structure and rhythm of their workdays help them. Community and time in nature were also described as vital sources of strength.

The combination of being in nature and shared experience strengthens both body and soul. It enables self-care that is not isolated, but collectively carried – quiet, powerful, human.

One group of training participants gathered in the relatively safe western part of Ukraine for a training block. They used a free day to go hiking together. But it was about more than just fresh air and exercise: they laughed, sang, shared stories, and looked out for one another. Where the terrain was difficult, they offered each other a hand – both literally and figuratively. In connection with nature and through the experience of supportive community, a deep sense of joy, relief, and inner strength emerged. Here, self-care did not appear as a purely individual practice, but as a communal process –fueled by trust, reliability, and a willingness to support one another in difficult times. Strengthened by this experience, participants returned to their demanding life and work contexts across Ukraine – with the knowledge that they are held by their community.

One colleague shared her experience of a deep personal crisis after fleeing from Gaza. Though physically safe, she fell apart emotionally. She was overwhelmed by feelings of shame and guilt for no longer being with her loved ones in Gaza, unable to help them, while now having access to opportunities. Art helped her regain inner calm and gave her strength to better cope with the past and present.

There is now a wide body of literature on the significance of art and how it enriches our lives in many ways. Austrian neurologist and psychiatrist Viktor Frankl, who survived several concentration camps during World War II, writes in his book "Yes to Life in Spite of Everything" how art can help people find meaning and be strengthened from within – especially in extremely difficult times.

Art is therefore also a source of power that we can draw from. But how can we integrate it into our lives when everything around us has changed – when, for example, we are living in a war zone? 

Often, it’s not about big actions, but small steps. A workshop participant in Ukraine spoke of an initiative called “Voice of the Soul.” Women in her town practice traditional folk singing. They find relief and joy in it, and the strength to take care of themselves. The music helps them “recharge their inner batteries.”

A colleague in Myanmar reports on her flight, the suffering that drove her to flee, the ongoing threat of civil war, and the added hardship of the post-earthquake situation in the country. She repeatedly emphasizes how important humor is to her – above all, laughter helps her. Nelson Mandela also wrote in his memoirs about the importance of cheerfulness for his survival during his long imprisonment. Humor, then, is a way to reconnect with oneself, and also a physiological process that promotes relaxation. Frankl, too, wrote how humor helped him create distance from suffering and enabled inner freedom – a key aspect of spiritual resilience.

In every meeting with colleagues across countries and situations, we often hear the sentence: "Thank you for not forgetting us." Wherever there is genuine connection and true empathy, a space for healing opens. Through knowledge and experience, we can share the concept of self-care – but often, all it takes is a knock at the door. Most of our colleagues already have many inner resources; it is a matter of recognizing and honoring them. During a project visit to the Kakuma refugee camp in Kenya, it quickly became clear that the concept of self-care as we understand it is unfamiliar to the colleagues there. But that doesn't mean they don’t know how to do good things for themselves. One staff member, a refugee herself, observed: "Working with the children is like medicine for me."

Not mentioned in detail here are the many resources our colleagues find through their religions and/or spiritual practices. These too accompany and support many of them around the world. Ultimately, real self-care begins when we develop a genuine interest in ourselves – and from there, a sincere interest in others can grow.

Fiona Bay