Striking a calmer tone on massive change
7 Comments Published by Sanjay Khanna March 6th, 2008 in Calmness, Daily Life, Mental HealthCould adopting a calmer, more positive tone in the face of massive change contribute to a social and political dialog that isn’t overly pressurized or stressful, yet provides the motivation we need to do our very best and make the difference we can with the resources we have?
Towards the end of January of this year, I had the privilege of flying over the Coast Mountain range on my way from Vancouver, British Columbia, to Edmonton, Alberta (Alberta being home to the ecologically disastrous oil sands project, which so far has received approximately US$90 billion in investment from local and global energy concerns).
Coast mountain range, originally uploaded by Sanjay Khanna.
Gazing at the snowcapped mountains and the gradations of light from mountaintops to horizon to sky, I experienced a feeling of insignificance, awe, and more than a touch of humility.
Oddly, the vastness of the scene made it seem almost inconceivable that we could save the planet.
The idea of saving the planet increasingly makes it feel as if the weight of world is on my shoulders.
Over the past five years or so, I've joined the ranks of others to fight the “battle against climate change” whether by shopping consciously, buying local, organic produce, supporting not-for-profits, or learning what I can do at home to live more simply and efficiently.
Even with this level of commitment, the dark fear of not being able to save the planet looms large, which starts my adrenals pumping furiously.
If we just do enough, fast enough, on a large-enough scale, I think, we could limit the impact of human-induced global warming.
Of late, though, I've come to believe the language of “saving the planet” and “fighting global warming” may be counterproductive given the precariousness of human and planetary circumstances.
On the other hand, by calmly re-establishing a sense of clarity, I could perhaps address the environmental and economic changes underway without guilt or shame at what was not accomplished during or before my lifetime.
I could work energetically and happily with others to create a vision of a future where living more simply, imaginatively and constructively is rewarding in and of itself, as well as economically.
It could be that the popular idea of a heroic, Herculean, last-ditch attempt to mitigate the damage caused by industrial society and hundreds of years of colonialisms, may prove a recipe for angst, fear and, more dangerously, paralysis.
Paralysis is something those of us who’d like to see a hopeful future need to guard against.
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Growing up during the latter part of the Cold War (pre-perestroika), I became very active in the peace movement as a way to funnel my frustration and anger about what the superpowers had left me and other young people (and the rest of life on earth) as their dying legacy. I felt that they had stripped my present and future life from me. In a flash, everything-trees, birds, streets, buildings-would cease to be with the push of a button.
To instill a sense of hope, I would try to focus on the good that happens when people pull together for a common goal. I was convinced we could make a difference if only we tried hard enough and fought for what we knew was right. Well, the fear of nuclear annihilation is still present as a real possibility. However, over the past few years, that same heavy heartedness (that I felt as a teenager) takes over when I think of the fish dying, the number of species that are going extinct, how many children I know who have breathing problems due to pollutants in the air, friends with cancer, the polar ice caps melting, how many heavy metals I’m breathing in, drinking.
Accompanied by that feeling is the realization that there’s no safe place, at least no physical place where we can go to get away from the bombsaway from the pollution and rising waters. I do feel that not doing anything would make me feel even more hopeless, but the question remains: How to create a sense of calm within, when the world is falling apart around our ears?
Hi, Lissa:
If what you mean is that global warming affects the entire planet and is, in a sense, inescapable (no safe place to go), then, yes, there is a question of safety…over the long term.
In the near term, global warming is affecting the planet differentially with more extreme effects in some places rather than others just as the macroeconomic impacts of global trade agreements have different effects in India, say, than in France.
Wherever there is an opportunity to nurture safe places and to become calmer because of a community’s conviviality, because of friendship, kindness and mutual support, it may be important to just do it. To foster a sense of calm with others by focusing on the good that’s already here, where a foundation of compassion is being built at the same time that many aspects of the world as we know it are, in your words, “falling apart” (I prefer to say “eroding” or “being relinquished”).
There’s another question embedded in yours, which is, “How to create a sense of calm within in cities, neighborhoods or nations that are under siege?” Zimbabwe, the Occupied Territories, Iraq and Afghanistan come to mind in this regard, and it’s here where I’m in awe at anyone who has somehow been able to keep mind and body together in the midst of such terrible national conflict. I’ll try to track news stories where simple kindness and humanitarian impulses are on display in these sorts of circumstances. Might that be of use?
Hi Sanjay,
Thanks for the insights! Perhaps “falling apart around my ears” is a bit strong. Though I suppose if I’d lived through the devastation of Hurricane Katrina, it would be an apt description.
I think we definitely have a lot to learn from those living in cities, neighborhoods or nations that are under siege about how individuals and communities cope and come out the other side. I think it would be great to read on this blog evidence of news stories where people pulled themselves together in spite of extreme adversity. How did they manage it? What lessons can we learn from their struggles? While looking over a site about Florida’s tornado relief, I came upon a quote by community member Rev. Larry Lynn about a recent local disaster: “(The tornado) has plugged us into the community in a greater way. It was a gift, but it came in an ugly package.”
I like this notion that we can take lessons out of some seemingly hopeless situations and use these to build on.
Sanjay,
Your entries are thought-provoking and enlightening (and yours too Lissa). I think in today’s world one must champion the issue of humankind, even if it seems fruitless. Eternal optimism will surely breed success for us all, no matter how small the gain.
Big Jimmy
James, Lissa,
Yes, it seems to be important to champion the cause of humankind and learn the lessons of those who have faced painful and difficult circumstances and soldiered on with kindness and human decency.
James–How do you manage to maintain your optimism when you become aware of injustice–Somalia or Zimbabwe, for example?
Good points, especially about paralysis. It seems very important that we stay clear about the extent to which in times of great crisis optimism itself is a political act.
Thanks, Alex. For those of you who have made it this far, it’s worth reading Alex Steffen’s post (the commenter in the previous reply) on Worldchanging.com. It’s called “The Politics of Optimism” and you can find it at http://www.worldchanging.com/archives/007919.html.