I know better than to self-diagnose but I thought for sure I knew what I had, and a bad case of it at that. It’s going around. It’s not as contagious as I thought it would be (or even as I think it should be) but those of us who get it tend to get it bad.
No, I don’t have covid. What I thought I had was eco-anxiety, otherwise known as climate-anxiety, or eco-distress, defined by the American Psychological Association as the “chronic fear of environmental doom.” All my symptoms pointed in that direction. Eco-anxiety can then lead to ecological grief, which is defined as “grief felt in relation to experienced or anticipated ecological losses, including the loss of species, ecosystems and meaningful landscapes.” Anyone who regularly reads this blog would probably agree with that diagnosis and a secondary part of my distress was the fear that my friends would ostracize me, afraid of ‘catching it,’ or even just finding it ‘unbecoming’.
In her book, Generation Dread, author Britt Wray argues that “we should be proud and relieved to experience these emotions; they are a sign of our humanity.”
That made me feel a little better.
She continues. “A sense of realistic danger is what’s fuelling the rise of eco-anxiety. It emerges when we feel our vulnerability and connections to what’s unravelling around us, and becomes adaptive when we are in touch with our ability to care. In this sense, eco-anxiety works like an antidote to the culture of uncare. That’s why some call it eco-compassion or eco-empathy. It is what happens when we bring our thinking and feeling together – a healthy, human way to function, as long as we stave off its ability to hijack our brains entirely!”
So that’s where the misdiagnosis comes in. I like to think I have eco-compassion or eco-empathy, not the more negative sounding eco-anxiety.
Joanna Macy, activist and author suggests “…it is a measure of your evolution, it is a measure of your humanity, it is a measure of your nobility that you have a heart-mind big enough to see and empathize with the outrage being inflicted on our world and all our relations.”
Noble? Me? That might be a stretch, but again, her words make me feel, well, nobler.
And, from the Lancet, a well-respected medical journal, “Recognizing that emotions are often what lead people to act, it is possible that feelings of ecological anxiety and grief, although uncomfortable, are in fact the crucible through which humanity must pass to harness the energy and conviction that are needed for those lifesaving changes now required.”
Very helpful.
So, I’m calling my ailment eco-compassion and I don’t want to get better. Don’t get me wrong, I want the health of our planet to get better, much better, but I don’t want to lose my sense of care for our one and only beautiful planet and all its living beings.
“Only when enough hearts break wide open will we start to heal the broken systems that are causing us to suffer in the first place.” (Britt Wray)
Amen.
Photo from eco-age.com
I keep a pad of Post-It Flags beside me when I read in order to mark special quotes or informative passages. From there I choose the best of the best and copy those passages into a journal of treasured quotes. Occasionally I’ll sit down with a favourite beverage and that journal and revisit all those hits of wisdom that had jumped out at me and I get to enjoy them all over again. Each time I do this I wish I could share them with friends, discuss their significance, and ponder how some writers can articulate so clearly those wisps of clarity that ramble around our brains but to which we’re unable to articulate.
So I’ve decided to use this platform to share some of them with hopes that others will experience that same ‘aha!’ moment that I did. I’ll post three at a time, sometimes with a theme, sometimes not. So, in no particular order, here are my first 3 hits of wisdom.
Probably not. Most of us didn’t.

It was the end of a weekend-long conference for librarians and they were enjoying a celebratory awards banquet. Their spouses were included as were some authors who were seated at random tables and encouraged to chat with the librarians. Being an author, that’s how I found myself waiting for a meal, surrounded by strangers.



Before anything significant can happen, it first has to be imagined. A world without slavery had to be imagined before the abolition movement could exist. A world where women are equal to men had to be imagined before women were eventually granted the right to vote. A new year has that ‘anything can happen’ kind of feeling. In that spirit, here is the perfect world of my imagination, an invocation to make it so.