On November 10, I posted an entry here on the shiny, happy topic of the possibility of our worst climate nightmares coming true (if you’ve not yet read it, please go back and read it now. Just scroll down or click http://rebeccahecking.com/?p=599 ). Apparently, I struck a chord. Based on the response to that post, it is obvious that I am not the only one who has considered this gloomy scenario. I’ve been mulling it over for a long time now….not sure if I’ve made progress, but the mulling continues… I don’t expect to wrestle this beast to the ground in just a couple posts. I expect this topic to be with me for the rest of my life, in one way or another.
I think the realization of planetary reality is an existential question similar in type if not in magnitude to the personal existential questions that come when we consider the finite nature of our own lives, and our eventual death. Religion has provided a cathartic answer to existential questions by offering concepts of heaven or reincarnation. Death isn’t really the end in this view, but rather a passage to a better future (either a quick trip to paradise or through the longer karmic journey). Looking at death as a natural event, where matter is recycled (supernovae seed the galaxy, decaying leaves provide for next year’s growth) also offers some comfort, perhaps not so personal, but comfort nonetheless. As humans, we need to rationalize our own death and the deaths of our loved ones, to make sense of it somehow. Whether we do this through belief in an afterlife or not is beside the point.
Looking back at the planetary scale at the present time, we are left with fewer options. I see no happy outcome equivalent to an afterlife to comfort us in our angst moving forward. But a natural event? Maybe, just maybe there is something there from which we can glean some wisdom.
What is happening to our beloved Earth is not “natural” in the sense that it would have happened anyway, without human intervention. Clearly, we are collectively responsible for this sorry state of affairs. Everything from the smallest piece of plastic litter to the largest planetary climate convulsions can clearly be blamed on humans. True.
One of my favorite quotes is from the famous biologist E.O. Wilson, ”…we live in Star Wars civilizations ruled by Stone Age emotions, medieval institutions, and god-like technology.”
I would change “Stone Age emotions” to “Stone Age minds.” As a species, we evolved to deal with the conditions we encountered as Stone Age hunter-gatherers. Our ability to learn collectively and transmit knowledge across generations gave us the astonishing capacities (for good and ill) that we have today. It also gave us a level of self-awareness and a capacity for self-reflection that is the source of our pain over what we now face.
Perhaps what we are witnessing now is the logical outcome of the evolutionary branch that led our species down the path of collective learning. Perhaps we are on the verge of burning out, going down in a blaze of glory like any other animal that found itself on an evolutionary dead end path. Do we honestly think humanity will still be around a million years from now? A million years is a blink of an eye in geologic deep time. The dinosaurs survived for tens of millions of years before being wiped out by forces beyond their control. And humanity? Maybe the species with the big brain over-reached… and will quickly die off (in the deep time view).
So, maybe this is “natural” after all. Earth will recover. Earth will heal. But it will be on a timescale far beyond a human lifespan, and we won’t be around to witness it.
Does any of this help us now? Maybe a little. Seeing myself for what I am (an evolved animal with the mental capacity for abstract thought) helps me be gentle with myself in my grief, and helps me work through it all and process what is happening.
Seeing where I fit in the big picture of the history of planet Earth (about 6 billion years) and the universe (about 13.7 billion years) helps me put it all in context. I am a tiny blip of consciousness in this vast expanse of All That Is. Humanity is a slightly larger (although still pretty tiny) blip.
Of course, we live our lives on a much smaller scale than deep time, and I have barely scratched the surface in this post. There is so much more physical, mental, and emotional work to do as we face our future. But that is for another time.
Rebecca is the author of The Sustainable Soul: Eco-Spiritual Reflections and Practices.
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You might want to read at least one of the books by the anthropology professor Hank Wesselman. He experienced a long series of spontaneous shamanic experiences about 20 years ago with a person living 5,000 years in the future, after global warming had occurred. His first book is called “Spiritwalker,” followed by “Medicinemaker,” and “Visionseeker.” You will find these books very interesting.
Thanks for the suggestion, Nathan. I’ve heard the name, but I’ve not read anything written by Wesselman. While I tend to be skeptical of such claims, I won’t pass judgment without a deeper look.
If you start with “Spiritwalker,” the first book, you will find interesting information about Huna (Hawaiian) shamanism. Whether you believe any of it or not you will find the book both entertaining and exciting. In fact, I was told that Steven Spielberg had considered buying the movie rights to “Spiritwalker.”
Thankyou, I was hoping you might write more on this Rebecca.
I’ve been trying to open myself up to this grief I feel, rather than push it away… let myself feel it in its entirity and many shades. I wonder what might happened if we all experienced this terrible grief for the earth, whether we might be able to pull it back, but I know that ultimately this is a niave hope because so many people don’t even believe that disaster is headed our way, let alone will let open themselves up to it. I somehow feel honour bound to experience this grief, that it’s important somehow. Is this foolish?
The earlier post you wrote has honestly changed my world. As with so many things it lead to a string of coincidences. After reading your post a stack of books fell into my life that delved even further into the awakening that grief had initiated.
And though all common sense dictates that there is indeed no hope, a tiny part of my heart cannot let go of it.
It terrifies me daily to think of the life my children could be faced with in a few short years, absolutely terrifies me. Because if ‘experts’ are to be believed then change could be soon and very sudden.(You know this of course…) But wider than that the thought of all the life that we collectively might take down with us is heart breaking to me… and so I cannot let go of my hope completely. We think we know so much, us humans, so I count on us not knowing as much as we think we do, not being able to see all the eventualilties, and that’s about the only thing I can find hope in at the moment.
Thank you for your thoughts, Nellie. I think in future posts I may speak more directly about grief. I think that grief over the state of the Earth probably follows the same path as any other grief (i.e., denial, anger, etc…) but differs in that we cannot move beyond it in the same way we can move beyond the loss of a loved one. There is no real closure since we are still here, in the thick of all that is happening.
I do think it is possible to live meaningful lives throughout this. I don’t think that all will suddenly collapse within a few years (like a bad disaster movie). Rather, things will change over the course of our and our children’s lifetimes. The old ways won’t work. Certainly, many will suffer (especially those in the poorest areas of the world) We will learn to live in the new normal, but certainly not with the excesses and luxuries we have become accustomed to.
Although it doesn’t address global warming, but rather peak oil, “World Made by Hand” by James Kunstler is a good example of an imagined fictional post-petroleum world. I think his imaginings are helpful here too.
More on all this later. There is real hope to be found. Not sugar-coated, fuzzy-kitten, change-your-lightbulbs-and-all-will-be-fine hope, but a much more resilient, realistic, toughened hope. We will all find it together.
Thanks, Rebecca, for your usual thoughtfulness and creativity around this very difficult issue. It’s interesting that one of the benefits? of our human Big Brains is that we can see the long view; I personally find that sort of comforting even if it means that the long view doesn’t include us within it.
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