Yesterday I felt sad.*
What causes me the most stress, despair, frustration, disappointment and hurt to run through my body is actually not the headlines;
it’s not the words and pictures of death and destruction, authoritarian abuses of power, social injustices, or climate collapse (though they all cause me anxiety, anger and heartbreak);
it’s the dystopian carrying on as normal;
it’s the inability or unwillingness to change, to help, to speak out;
it’s the silence.
It feels like one of those nightmares where you’re screaming at the top of your lungs and no-one can hear you.
It takes inordinate amounts of patience, compassion and grace to continue to fight, understanding that friends and family and the general public won’t be doing the same;
that this is your fight, not theirs;
that they may or may not appreciate what you’re doing, but often the most you’ll hear is “what you do is do great, keep going” but rarely “let me help, point me in the right direction”;
that to keep the friendships, family relationships and human connections that we all need you must only ever gently lead by example, and wait patiently for small changes to be made, but never big ones.
When I tell them that their holiday looks amazing , and I hope they had a great time, I strangely, do genuinely mean it - though I find multiple and regular holidays are particularly triggering.
I’ve gotten better over time at compartmentalising my feelings and being able to feel competing feelings at the same time. I honestly want my friends and family to experience happiness and joy and be able to do wonderful, fun, exciting things.
I also don’t want to criticise or judge. None of us know the struggles others are going through, and how they are just trying to keep their heads above the water. Who am I to tell them the shouldn’t be allowed to enjoy a well-deserved holiday? I have no idea how hard their lives are and how close to breaking they might be.
It’s also not constructive; I won’t win them over to climate action with criticism and judgement.
There are also very real psychological traits from the early days of humans, that were really important for our survival, that remain today even though they don’t serve us as well in the modern world. They are one of the reasons many aren’t able to connect or act. [1]
Knowing this helps me accept the inaction. But for the most part the inaction remains.
And so the burden of responsibility remains mine to carry, not theirs.
But oh how I wish some of them would help me with the load… How I wish they’d show that they genuinely understand the reality, that they truly care.
The silence is soul-destroying and heart-breaking.
Aren’t we seeing the same images? (With the way algorithms work, maybe not?) Don’t we all feel the same compulsion to do something? To at least say something?
Sometimes I wish I could just give up.
But I can’t. It’s just not in me.
I have down-days, down-weeks. I need to pause and take a breath; to disconnect; to rest and recover; spend time doing things that feel me with joy.
But once I have rested and re-nourished, I will carry on.
And I’ll keep trying to inspire others to do the same.
And I’d love it if you joined me. I’ll walk beside you and hold your hand. You’re right on time and very welcome.
I’d love to know what you think in the comments.
With understanding, love, resilience and hope from my family to yours,
Elena x
* Activists of all causes, and marginalised people especially, will likely understand these feelings. I also acknowledge that I’m talking from a place of huge privilege.
******
Endnotes & References
[1] Breaking Down: Collapse podcast | Episode 96: Psychological Barriers to Confronting Collapse - https://open.spotify.com/episode/6jw61a3WA33R00xFUr6rNz
