My general mood these days swings from anger to deep grief, no matter how many times I stop to notice the blue jay in the front yard white pine, or the changing fall foliage along mama Mississippi, or the laughter of my neighbor’s toddler.
It seems that we as a people no longer hold life sacred. Acts of genocide and extraction continue across the globe. Extreme weather and flooding, as I write, is causing death and destruction in Florida, Southern Appalachia, Acapulco, Nepal, Rio de Janeiro, Thailand, Bosnia, and Tunisia. Absolutely no one is safe from the impacts of the climate crisis. We are failing massively to see the interconnectedness inherent in the web of life, the havoc that consumerism has wreaked, and the death sentence that is unbridled capitalism.
When I was young we chased lightning bugs around the yard at dusk. My own children — adults now — didn’t experience that. I remember once we drove deep into rural Iowa to visit my brother; they got out of the car and were mesmerized by the blinking lights floating through the air, “What is it mom?” We have lost 75% of the global insect population in the last 50 years. My grandchildren will likely not even know what a lightning bug is. They will not grieve their absence.
Generational drift is the term for this phenomena referring to the gradual changes in the world around us that occur over time, often going unnoticed by individuals within a generation because they are so accustomed to the new normal, while older generations may perceive it as a loss compared to their time.
Perhaps this is why the loss of life due to climate change doesn’t feel real to so many — you cannot miss what you never knew; you cannot be alarmed at patterns you have only ever experienced as normal. Patterns that include the environmental destruction, the carbon footprint and the loss of human life caused by war and colonialism. As my son likes to ask, “when have we ever not been at war?”
I am angry. And grieving. And I prefer that over numb or unaware. I will channel my anger and grief into action because I still believe we can change our trajectory and build a just and abundant world beyond this climate crisis.
Susan Phillips
Executive Director
Photo credit: Future Ecologies Podcast
