Turner Pavilion, Harrisonburg, VA
It’s 3:23 in the morning
From the poem, hieroglyphic stairway by Drew Dellinger, in the book, love letter to the milky way, White Cloud Press, 2011
and I’m awake
because my great great grandchildren
won’t let me sleep
my great great grandchildren
ask me in dreams
what did you do while the planet was plundered?
what did you do when the earth was unraveling?. . .
what did you do
once
you
knew?
About five years ago this was me. I felt profound grief mixed with anxiety and the overwhelm of not knowing what to do. The climate news I was ingesting made my fear worse. Yet no one was talking about it in everyday conversations.
So I began asking everyone I was around more than five minutes, “Apart from faith, family, and friends, what matters most to you? Many said climate—because if we don’t turn it around, we won’t have a world.
Two things propelled me out of my deer-in-the-headlights inaction. One, I learned my preteen grandson cried because of his worry about the future of the planet. From reading research, I knew he wasn’t alone in his anxiety. One of the findings in a study of 10,000 young people in ten countries is that in addition to high levels of distress, many reported they feel abandoned and betrayed by their governments and even by the adults in their lives.
Second, in the small group I belonged to through my church, Community Mennonite, we discussed a series of questions from eco philosopher Joanna Macy’s work on Active Hope. Then we each wrote a lament about our climate concerns—-voicing our complaints, questions, and requests to God.
The combination of those two things somehow unlocked months of overwhelm and paralysis. Ideas began to flow. I realized one of the things that mattered most to me is that my grandson and children everywhere know they are not abandoned by the adults of the world and especially by their faith communities.
I also knew I had to act.
I began by changing what I was taking in through the media. Instead of doom scrolling, I read accounts of what creative groups and innovators are doing to address the crisis and books by Paul Hawkens (Drawdown: The Most Comprehensive Plan Ever Proposed to Reverse Global Warming and Regeneration: Ending the Climate Crisis in One Generation).
I started giving talks about eco-distress and included elements from a training I took in conducting Climate Cafes, a way to talk about climate concerns which research shows lead people to act. (Thanks to Cathy Stricker of Climate Action Alliance of the Valley for the encouragement.)
I joined the Green Committee at Community Mennonite Church even though I’m a psychotherapist, not a climate scientist, and together we just completed a 12-week Adult Education class called Effective Climate Action with 45-75 people attending each week.
I realize I still have much to learn about courage and resilience that develops out of necessity, climate justice, racism manifesting as environmental trauma, and indigenous ways of knowing and caring for the earth.
I recognize I am semi-retired and have the luxury of time. I don’t have children at home or need to work three jobs or to put food on the table.
I realize the outcome is not guaranteed.
But I no longer wake up at 3:23 in the morning.
I am, though, still asking climate questions.
Just yesterday, I asked my grandson, now a teenager, “On a scale of 0-10, (with 10 being extremely high) how worried are you about climate change? He replied, “three.” I was surprised. What was it in the past, I asked? “At least a seven,” he said.
I asked what made the difference. He said he reads news and listens to podcasts on all the things people are doing to address it.
And then this beloved grandchild, a somewhat resistant church attender who wants to be an urban planner and design regenerative cities, added: “And I’ve heard you say that “Don’t be afraid,” is the most common phrase in the Bible, and it’s often followed by, “For I am with you,” when people had hard stuff to do. So, I think about that, and it helps.” “Don’t be afraid!” It appears in the Bible 365 times, one for every day of the year. May it help us all have “wisdom and courage for the facing of these days.”
Shenandoah Valley Faith and Climate 