This is probably not the best time for me to discuss this - I don’t feel that great. I swing. Sometimes optimistic, a lot of times not. I’m an old Socialist, and hate the swing we have taken to Neo Liberalism. When it’s economically feasible to catch fish in Canada, ship them to China to be processed, and then sold back here at a reasonable price, there is something seriously wrong.
I try to focus on what I can control. I rarely buy new clothing, or new anything. I try to fix stuff. I don’t mow my lawn except when I feel it is exceeding ‘community standards’. I try not to drive much, and do my best to document local biodiversity on iNat, and to help identify things. Really, it’s all I can do. Also, knowing that iNat exists, and by taking part in it, also offers solace!
I recognize that without a mass movement towards decreased consumption, we won’t change much. The polluters are too big, and they have too many fingers in the political pies all around the world. I see small changes in the environment around me, and see that non-human life is robust. In a way, that comforts me, knowing that if humans destroy the planet for human habitation, something will still live and eventually thrive.
As I’ve said elsewhere, I live in a place where we don’t really feel the effects of climate change. Our climate is normally highly variable. I know it’s happening, but so far it has not affected me personally.
Maybe when I feel a bit better I’ll be more optimistic!
Sometimes I feel like it is.
Which some people oppose and want to get rid of, because they think that the way Gary used to be was better for the economy.
Maybe their intelligent, civilized descendants will do a better job of it. Ever since I heard about leaderless flocks of birds, and their ability to coordinate, I have thought it was so unfortunate that we evolved from those brutally hierarchical apes.
But back to where I started: “At least I got to see it before it’s gone.” I don’t stay optimistic. I know that there is too much unraveling to reverse it now. “Those who sow the wind shall reap the whirlwind,” and it is presumptious to think that we can somehow evade that reckoning that we brought on ourselves. When Greta Thunberg says, “You’ve stolen my future!”, she is correct. I don’t see a bright future for any young person today. My generation knew about global warming from when we were kids, and what did we do? Grew up and sold out, and now too many of us are actively opposing doing anything about it. If the currency system collapses just as we’re about to start drawing from our IRAs and 401(k)s, we’ll know what it means to reap the whirlwind.
I sympathize with your feelings on this. We are nature-lovers, and it’s painful to watch as the object of your love suffers. On top of that, we live in a world of humans that is largely oblivious to the dangers that we see clearly, dangers that threaten both nature and all of humanity. It’s big, existential stuff- too much for me most of the time, so I retreat to the woods, to the greenhouse, to the river, to escape the fear and frustration and just be with my green friends as they are now.
I’ll be honest- I don’t see much indication that we (humanity) will change course and prevent the horrors of climate change. I think we’re in for a very rough road. But still, I find a precious light of hope in my love for this planet that keeps me moving forward. One particular idea was inspired by Ray Bradbury’s 1953 novel Fahrenheit 451; if you’ve never read it, you’ll want to skip the rest of this comment, because I have to spoil the ending to explain the idea.
–Book Spoiler Alert!-- In the world of Fahrenheit 451, books are outlawed and those discovered are publicly burned. A group of exiled book-lovers found a way to preserve the cultural and intellectual information in books; they each memorized an entire text, embodying it in their lives and ‘becoming’ the book. This idea has stuck with me since I read it. In some ways, I see the humans here on iNat doing this. Some of us are generalists, but many of us have a particular fondness for a particular taxon. We learn all we can about it and advocate on its behalf. We do what we can to protect the lives and the knowledge of these organisms as the world goes crazy. That feels like a noble task to me- a guiding mission.
One other thing keeps me going- I get to teach. So many of the students in my college classes (mostly botany) are hungry for a connection with the natural world. They want to understand nature deeply and they want to protect it. I think this desire is more common than we realize in the general population, too, it’s just hard for them to understand what ‘nature’ is when they are immersed in a world of marketing and consumerism (a topic for another day).
hmmm… I think we likely lived parts of our lives not too far from each other! :-)
They had a motto on Robben Island (Nelson Mandela)
Each one teach one.
Similar to a motto about technique transfer, from Nursing - See one, do one, teach one.
Knowing the context, that is very powerful.
Au contraire: it’s the heartless, uncaring and selfish of my own species that disheartens me. I’m a plant conservationist: they never talk back, demand their rights,want a raise or give you grief for ignoring them. Provided with just the basics, they give a command performance whenever they can.
Collectively, as humans we have a choice, a contrast of two paths starkly illustrated in Jared Diamond’s Collapse. We could go the way of the Easter Islanders and destroy the natural world in the name of “progress” only to see ourselves destroyed as well, or we could go the way of the Tikopia islanders, who willingly ceased slash-and-burn agriculture and raising pigs when they saw the trajectory of self-destruction that would lead to. They judiciously assessed that their island was resource-constrained, and that overpopulation would spell their downfall by degrading their environment until they went extinct, so they voluntarily restricted their population to 1200 people.
I believe that with a paradigm shift in the mindset of humans to a) limit population growth willingly, and b) ensure the natural world is upheld as sacrosanct (as modern day Bhutanese view it) and essential to all life on earth, and c) pivot ourselves away from idealizing consumerism and instead emphasizing simplicity and equanimity (again, epitomized in the Bhutanese) we can turn things around. Perhaps it is an optimistic and idealistic view, given all the complexities and challenges the world faces - like food shortages - which unfortunately pit the natural world against humans and ultimately lead to choosing short-term gains over long-term survival. Addressing overpopulation is an under-appreciated piece of the puzzle for this very reason and one that - regretfully - had we addressed like the Tikopia people centuries ago we’d not be in the place we are now.
You can’t simply say ‘Without any judgment’ and then imply that the OP cares about the natural world too much so there must be something wrong with their head.
I prefaced it “without judgement” because the term highly sensitive person (HSP) can be misconstrued and used in a dismissive, demeaning manner to mean something like: over-emotional, over-reactive, etc. as opposed to a descriptive term of a way that someone experiences the world. I’m sorry that I didn’t word it better.
The point I was trying to making in my reply is that OP may possibly have some characteristics shared with the HSP personality-type which could make OP feel more deeply/strongly towards things in general, that there’s lots of information about HSPs in linked topic, and because I’m maybe the opposite of HSP, that the solution to feeling bad about problems concerning the natural world and maintaining optimism might partly be related to this, rather than there being a good answer that has been found to coping with these problems.
HSP is basically being autistic, but trying to avoid the (unfortunate and unnecessary) stigma. It’s entirely autistic traits. I personally never diagnose others even when it is obvious because of said stigma. People can use the HSP label if they want as it’s their life and brain, but it’s a little frustrating for those working to get the word out about what autism actually is.
Either way, there isn’t anything wrong with you if you ‘care a lot about nature’, autistic or not, except for the fact it makes your life a lot harder to live in this world if you do.
Thank you for being a voice of reason, I left the room when the mansplaining around mental health issues began.
There was a lot of really thoughtful responses, but I just can’t tolerate that type of rhetoric.
Offering unsolicited mental health advice is extremely toxic, and borderline abusive.
I don’t want to end up in the iNat forum gulags for offending some rich techbro in socal so I left the chat.
We all are on spectrum of how brain grows out to be, it’s not bad if you or someone else have traits more like that or less like that, it doesn’t make you a bad or good person, or even a different person, because there’re many people on this forum that feel the same as you. I don’t see this as a try to offend you, maybe researching that topic could bring some relief and help with coping strategies, as it can be unhealthy to worry too much, definitely won’t help with those global or small problems.That is what your topic says, what people do to cope, looking into yourself is probably the best first step.
I suppose I’'m just hypersensitive to the earth literally falling apart and washing away entire communities, very close to where I live…
Thank you, I came here to mention the successes. My story is the joy it gave me to see egrets thriving in the Meadowlands next to a major USPO installation as I commuted into NYC. And I have found so many bumblebee and wasp species in my city where weeds line the alleys and ravines, and many neighborhoods don’t waste money on pesticides or herbicides. A hilly city becomes an unexpected reservoir of diversity. If we expand the locations where herbicides and pesticides aren’t in use, and switch from fossil fuels to renewables, the rebound could be quicker than we expect.
Feeling grief in response to loss, even feeling terrible grief in response to terrible loss, is not a sign of being highly sensitive. Just as feeling anxiety in proportion to threatening circumstances is not a sign of being highly sensitive.
Grief and anxiety in response to the ongoing climate emergency are experiences people can have regardless of whether or not the are highly sensitive. People who are highly sensitive surely experience them more intensely, but many of us who are not highly sensitive are still affected greatly, because the loss and the threat of future devastation are great.
You’re right @lordcaravan, I didn’t realize I was doing that, just thought it was an interesting/related topic. I apologize.
I think I’ll quote you next time somebody asks me “Tell me a bit about yourself?” Love it, I feel like a regular old Elon Musk 
I came across a quote recently from Antonio Gramsci: “Pessimism of the intellect, optimism of the will”. It’s important that we see the problems and suffering and loss in the world, but that doesn’t prevent us from continuing with courage, persistence and even hope.
I work with species who have a high chance of going extinct in my lifetime. That could be a cause for depression, but somehow it isn’t. I know that I’m not the one responsible for their dire situation, and that I’m doing everything I can to make that situation better. I think that’s where acceptance and hope come from: accepting the limitations of our power and responsibility, and within those limitations, doing everything we can to make the world a better place, whether it is through our work, activism, donations to conservation organisations, looking after a special place, or whatever it is that each of us is capable of.
I strongly recommend taking some time every now and then to think clearly about how we might have the most impact possible: what are the problems that most deserve our attention, where we as an individual can make most difference, and in doing so, bring fulfilment and satisfaction. That’s the antidote to despair.
Interestingly, Jared Diamond’s account of what happened on Easter Island is now considered out of date. It may have been the introduction of rats by the Polynesians, and the subsequent arrival of Europeans with their sheep, that caused most of the ecological devastation we see today. In other words, decisions that at the time may have seemed innocuous but which had ultimately tragic consequences, much like those we continue to take today in continuing to rely on fossil fuels and animal products, and consuming far more material resources than we need. This video has a great explanation of what happened on Easter Island, although naturalists will note errors in the choice of film footage (the wrong “black tern”, for example).
“I work with species who have a high chance of going extinct in my lifetime.”
Yes. I sometimes think my work describing plants just allows me to write them better obituaries when they go extinct.
But in the mean time, they’re here and much is good.