I grew up in a small farming community in East-Central Illinois.
Through my formative years, my everyday view of the world looked something like this ===>
At least in the Spring and Summer, the colors that surrounded me were predominantly green, sky blue, green, yellow sun and more green. We lived in a house built in 1908 by a rich farmer whose wife was a horticultural enthusiast who couldn’t get enough variety. The story around town was that the rich farmer loved his wife dearly and supported her hobby, and on their anniversary, every year for 56 years, he gave her a different tree on their special day. As a result, I catalogued 84 different species of trees for a freshman Biology project, just from our 4-acre yard alone.
Growing up in a yard like that, in a town surrounded by millions of acres of corn and soybean fields, set my expectations for how the world looked, should look, should always look. Yes; I grew up spoiled, entitled and privileged; I freely admit that. I was probably 9 before I understood that much of the world that humans inhabited looked like the header photo or like this:
Or this:
And I was probably 10 or 11 when I began to realize that, not only did much of the world look like the horrific images included in this diary, but that things were getting worse; deforestation, desertification, marine acidification, urban sprawl and the transformation of productive agricultural lands into suburban developments and golf courses was proceeding apace. It was mind-blowing and devastating to me at that age. It still is.
At 18, I moved away to “the city;” a university town of 160,000. Within 3 or 4 weeks, I found myself getting increasingly depressed. It wasn’t because I missed my family; they were only 40 minutes away. But when I went home for the first time in 6 weeks and saw how green our yard was, I realized my depression was caused by the percentage of my view that had switched from leafy greens to concrete-grey. I started visiting a tree-filled park and going for long runs on the blacktop roads between the fields outside of the city. So I felt better.
But billions of us do not have access, easy or otherwise, to tree-filled parks, and country lanes, and mountains, and beaches and forests. And every year the forests are gobbled up, and the fields and mountains are developed and paved over, and the land turns to tracts of cracked dust, and more and more of us lose the ability to have the balming contact of the vibrant, embracing natural world. It is small wonder so many of us are depressed and anxious and turn to drugs and alcohol and vapid Republican ideas.
I’ve lived in a city of 13 million, that in the mid-90s was rated the 8th-most polluted city on Earth by Time Magazine. Since I left, it’s grown to 15 million. I’ve also lived in a yurt in the mountains. So I’ve seen the best and the worst of how humans live. I’ve seen what we should avoid, and what is better and possible. And I know how different lifestyles can affect our mental health, an issue avoided far too often.
Yes, the outlook is bleak, and my story is full of doom and gloom. This will turn many people off and away, because they can’t bear to look at and think about such horror. But there is some good news. There are people out there who understand the scale and the details of the problem; scientists, educators, government officials, activists, moms and dads, heck, even the kids! Many are putting their shoulders to the wheel in an effort to get the devastation to slow down and eventually halt, at which point we, as a species, can turn the wheel the other way and begin to fix the damage we have caused.
When we feel depressed and hopeless, doing something helps. Anything. Obviously, some efforts will be more efficacious than others, but not everyone is suitable for or capable of every task, but everyone is capable of something. And just putting your nose in the wind, and having your face seen on the street; holding a protest sign or even simply standing vigil, helps spread the message and gets the public more aware that Climate Crisis is something they should be aware of and care about.
So, my appeal is simple; join us. Care, do something, whatever you are capable of. You will feel better if you do.
Namaste and health!
AAH.