Despair

The newest WWF Living Planet Report gives reason for alarm. Within two generations, the population size of vertebrate species (other than human) has dropped by 52%. We need 1.5 Earths to regenerate the natural resources we currently use. Reading these hard facts, it is very difficult not to despair. My cognitive brain refuses to see a solution that will work fast enough to keep the human race, my human race, from destroying life on this planet, including our own lives. Not in my lifetime, perhaps, but I want my grandchildren and their grandchildren to live and enjoy the beauty of life on earth as much as I do.

I try to push that feeling of despair away. I like to be as positive and solution-oriented as possible. Despair immobilizes me, saps my energy. So I think of all the large and small-scale successes we have had in re-wilding parts of nature, bringing back species that were seriously endangered. I read about new initiatives, working with multinational businesses to find innovative solutions. I look for ways to raise awareness of the problem and to help people find their own answers. But the sheer numbers are overwhelming and I do feel pain, anger, and despair.

Yes, we should acknowledge that feeling of despair, says Joanna Macy in her book Active Hope. Only by honoring our pain for the world, will we be capable of breaking the spell of business as usual.

And so the challenge emerges: where to find the balance between honoring the pain and despair and letting it drag us into depression, futile anger, or stubborn denial.

Despair can also rise on an individual level. I worked with a client recently whose entire life had collapsed around his ears: his job gone, his marriage falling apart, his health threatened. And it seemed to me that the first step was to acknowledge the intense despair that he felt, acknowledge that feeling that nothing made sense any more. Feeling the pain instead of trying to escape from it through cognitive reasoning, hard work, or spiritual approaches emphasizing peace of mind.

Pain, grief, and sorrow are a gateway to empowerment, to finding new depths and new horizons in yourself. For my client, it meant accepting that this crisis in his life would bring him closer to the essence of who he is and what his life is about.

In the legend of Pandora’s Box, she opened the box, in spite of being warned not to. All the misfortune, wickedness, sickness, and terror was released into the world. But at the bottom of the box lay Hope. If the box had never been opened, Hope would not have found its way into the world.

And so I honor my pain and despair for the world. And, by doing so, I find new empowerment, hope, and energy to do all that I can to help.

Saving the world

There was a time that I was convinced that my life would only have meaning if I could help bring about world peace, the end of pollution, and justice and equality for all. As a child of the 60’s, it was only logical that this had to happen in my lifetime. And I had to play a part in it.

I went from protest marches to neighborhood empowerment action and eventually found myself involved in local politics. I became more and more disillusioned about the possibility of anything changing. It seemed as if, for every problem solved, at least two new problems would arise. The media seemed to overexpose us to all the drama in the world and if I took them all seriously, I would simply get overwhelmed.

As time went on, I started building a family and a career. I started closing my eyes to world problems. Small scale problems were challenging enough. In The Netherlands, my adopted homeland, environmental issues are usually tackled by new government rules, regulations, and taxes. Not only does it often seem ineffective, it’s also often very bureaucratic.

But at the very core of me, the idealist will not die. I love the world too much for that. And I want my great-grandchildren and their grandchildren to be able to love the world as well.

And this is the point where writers/teachers like Joanna Macy provide the inspiration and courage to continue to do that which I can do, that which each of us can do. I just finished reading her book Active Hope – How to Face the Mess We’re in without Going Crazy. I recognized my own journey in her description of the three stories of our time. I try to hide from my own despair by believing in Business As Usual. Otherwise I might be overwhelmed by the Great Unraveling. But, more and more, I can start believing and actively participating in the Great Turning.

This is something I can do with my own unique gifts, in my own unique way. Each of us feels called in a different way. Some people feel called to participate in actions to defend life on earth. Some feel called to develop new economic and social structures. And some are suited to helping us change our perceptions, thinking, and values.

But the most important thing, and Joanna Macy’s call resonates strongly with me, is to find and connect to others who also feel this calling. Every little thing we do, alone but especially with others, is a step in the right direction. And so I recycle and work in my garden and find ways to exchange knowledge, inspiration, ideas, and vegetable seeds with others. I organize gatherings of people to see how we can use our talents and create synergy on a small scale. And I devote my counseling practice to helping others find their own, unique way of being in the world in these troubled times.

I may never see the fruits of my labor in this lifetime. I will not let that discourage me. I’m not doing it for myself.