Offical Blog of the Climate Wellbeing Network

Shattering the Veil of Delusion and Falling Down the Hole of Despair

17/4/2015

By Merle Conyer
Twice I have experienced shattering ecological awakenings, when a fog that I never knew had enveloped me lifted. Both times it was as unexpected in its revelation as it was surprising in its impact. This article is a personal story which shares how these moments shaped new understandings and calls to action.

The first instance was almost twenty years ago, in a Queensland seaside town 1000km from home. I randomly opened a book overflowing with recipes and holistic wellbeing guidance. I was stopped in my tracks as I read about the impact of a carnivorous diet on the environment. Instantly I shifted towards a vegetarian diet, and soon after reduced consumption of manufactured goods and toxic products, increased repurposing and recycling, and started a worm farm. This felt like a big shift at that time as I had not previously given any attention to environmental matters or green politics. So it was not engagement with these that shattered this veil of delusion, but rather the horror of waking up to the complicity of my consumptive choices.

The second instance occurred a couple of years ago about 4000km from home in the Great Western Desert of Western Australia. I had joined a two-week ‘Sufi Walkabout’ with Aboriginal and Sufi guides for my first bush camping experience and was well and truly out of my comfort zone. Our host on Country* was Kado Muir, a respected Ngalia man, who suggested that each step we took activated the land and this perspective transformed our walk into a pilgrimage.
* ‘Country’ has a broad meaning in Aboriginal culture, eg. see http://www.visitmungo.com.au/aboriginal-country

Great Western Desert, Western Australia (Photo: Merle Conyer)

The days were spent walking with Aboriginal rangers who generously shared their knowledge and ease with the land, its creatures and archaeology. As we arrived at each new sleeping place the children would run barefoot with the dogs over the red earth to explore the ridges and gullies. We were honoured to witness the transmission of culture from elders to children through stories, arts, land conservation, traditional hunting and foraging. The fragrance of burning sandalwood drew us to the fire at sunrise and sunset for chanting, stories, healing and peace practices reverencing many spiritual paths. When we left each place everything was taken away or buried including the fire pits and I was moved by the deep respect within this way of leave taking.

At the Breakaways

Goanna prepared for the fire

Art by Merle Conyer

The only interruption to the vast expanse was the head shafts of mines pillaging the land for metals. Two nuclear-free campaigners who happened to be in the area projected a slide show onto the side of a vehicle illustrating the impacts of uranium mining in the region. They described the staggering water use and its decimation of the fragile desert ecosystem. They spoke of radioactive racism and the suppression of Aboriginal people’s access to sacred lands which robbed them of freedom to practice their culture. I learned that the uranium which leaked from the reactors at the Fukushima Daiichi disaster in 2011 was sourced from this land.

All of this, together with knowledge shared about the extinction and near extinction of local creatures, shattered the veil of my separateness. I felt at a visceral level how all of this was happening under my watch and that my lifestyle was a contributor to this destruction.

Being in the desert wrenched open an understanding of the profound loss I was carrying, a loss I had not known before this, the loss of my separation from nature. I was inconsolable, keeping to my own company as I sat on the earth, walked mindfully, and considered the harm I had knowingly and unknowingly caused. I dipped into the book ‘Spiritual Ecology’ for insights and rested in the solace of sacred practices. Then I sat before the Breakaway cliffs and in the shadow of their looming presence wrote a ‘Truth and Reconciliation’ testimony to nature, drawing on my experience of a prior time when I had grasped for ways to come to terms with the apartheid lineage of my growing up years in South Africa.

Later I contemplated how the dynamics underpinning colonisation, patriarchy, racism and capitalism had alienated us from nature to all our detriment. These systems of power have the same characteristics at their core – social engineering inculcating stereotypes to keep people apart and discriminatory rights to benefit the privileged few. Setting up polarised groups to view the other as ‘the enemy’ reinforces separation, weakens social bonds and stifles initiative to organise for mutual support. Instead docility, conformity and blindness to everyday atrocities are fostered. These dynamics too had occurred between me and nature.

Upon returning home I committed to learning more about environmental concerns and my own unsustainable footprint. This catapulted me into a depression where I feel the gap between my current urban lifestyle and what it takes to live sustainably on the earth. I carry deep concern and a heavy burden of responsibility for what we are passing on to the next generations.

Whilst this process has been confronting and challenging, I am grateful that I am no longer oblivious to what is occurring. I am aware that my personal decisions are not enough, and the immensity and complexity of the issues requires community and political engagement. Slowly I am connecting with sources of companionship, support and action, including through the Climate Wellbeing Network community. It is an ongoing journey and I will share more about this another time.

Desert plants

Acknowledgements: The Sufi Walkabout was the inspiration of Vivienne Robertson who is a leader of the Dances of Universal Peace and runs a Sufi Order International Centre on the South Coast of Western Australia. Kado Muir and the team of Leonora Rangers guided our journey on Country. Jamila Cranston-Buckley, a senior Murshida (teacher) in New Zealand nourished the sacred practices. Bilbo Taylor and Marcus Atkinson (who lead the Walkatjurra Walkabout) supported the logistics.

I acknowledge the traditional custodians of this beautiful land and pay my respects to the Elders past and present.

Author: Merle Conyer works as a psychotherapist, trainer and consultant, supporting people to respond to complex life events and trauma, to shape an enriched future and to thrive. She also strengthens organisations committed to human rights, social justice, wellbeing and sustainability. Her work is informed by broad experience in community, education, government and corporate contexts.
www.linkedin.com/in/merleconyer

References
Conservation Council of Western Australia. http://ccwa.org.au/
Footprints for Peace. http://footprintsforpeace.footprintsforpeace.net/
Fukushima Commemoration 11 March 2015, Perth - No 2. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=25OF4885-Xk
Halpern, J. & Weinstein, H. M. (2004). Rehumanizing the Other: Empathy and Reconciliation. Human Rights Quarterly, 26(3), 561-583.
Martín-Baró, I. (1989). The Psychological Consequences of Political Terrorism. Paper presented at the Symposium on The Psychological Consequences of Political Terrorism.
Vaughan-Lee, L. (ed). (2013). Spiritual Ecology: The Cry of the Earth. The Golden Sufi Centre, California. http://spiritualecology.org/
Walkatjurra Walkabout – Walking for Country. http://walkingforcountry.com/

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Do environmental professionals need a shrink?* Starting the conversation

20/3/2015

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By Nicole Thornton

* Title taken from a 2004 interview with John Fraser, psychologist and environmentalist.

The mental health and emotional wellbeing of environmental and sustainability professionals

Who looks after the health of those who look after our natural and social environment? Why do we care and why is it important?

These questions have been bubbling away in my head for the last few years. It stemmed from my own experience as an environmental scientist struggling with climate-related clinical depression for nearly four years. My depression was triggered by the lost political opportunities that came out of the UN Climate Change Conference in Copenhagen, December 2009. It was also influenced by watching friends, colleagues and peers struggle with their own feelings and motivations about the potential losses to the natural ecosystems and human communities that they love and study.

Coral outcrop, Flynn Reef, Cairns (Source: Toby Hudson, own work)

In particular, I wondered about the wellbeing of my marine scientist friends who know we will lose the Great Barrier Reef in the next 100 years if we continue our current path of ineffectively dealing with climate change.

I wondered how they continued their research and maintained their passion knowing that their children or grandchildren will inherent a shadow of the Reef we enjoy today. How do they not fall to pieces with sadness and anger, and not give up?

I felt like a fool having “climate depression” (as I called it) as I knew of no-one who had depression that was connected to climate change. I am familiar with depression and other mental health issues as it runs in both sides of my family. I have many friends who have depression, so I do not have any issues with talking about it, accepting that it is an illness, or understanding the drivers, causes and symptoms that are associated with poor mental health. My depression wasn’t about self or self-worth. I wasn’t suicidal (I was just a hermit who had no energy or desire to go anywhere or visit people). Who gets depression from external factors? It wasn’t until I was halfway through it that I realised I had depression at all, and even longer before I connected that it was due to my complete loss of hope in our lack of real action on climate change. I had come to believe, in my gut and my heart, that we could not save ourselves and that we would be dead in a few generations.

This utter loss of hope led to a profound sense of loss and grief which still upsets me when I think about it, even now, a couple of years since my depression lifted.

Why do we need a shrink?

So, who cares if environmental and sustainability professionals are feeling the blues?

Nicole Thornton (Photo: Justin McManus)

During my conversations with peers, some have questioned why this conversation matters at all. We should just be more positive, and stop focusing on the negative. For some, this no doubt works.

However, for many, ignoring our feelings and thoughts about issues which are important to us doesn’t make them go away. It just buries them. And environmental professionals are just like everyone else; we can’t do our job properly if we are mentally and emotionally sick.

Some symptoms that occur when we don’t look after our emotional and mental health include:

burnout
despair
depression
stress
tiredness and exhaustion
loss of hope and sadness
detachment or disengagement
anger or resentment
ineffectiveness.

Some of the factors that people mentioned which influenced their mental state included:

The lack of outcomes from COP15 UN Climate Change Conference in Copenhagen 2009
The feeling of isolation within the workplace (e.g. in regional councils, corporate businesses) for those who work on environmental or sustainability issues from other internal departments
Hitting 400ppm CO2 in March 2013, which is on target to reach 3-4°C warming by 2100 (in 85 years).

What conversations are already happening?

There are some great conversations and resources already happening that concern our mental and emotional health in this area, but they can be hard to find if you don't know where to look.

These conversations include:

The excellent work by Joanna Macy and John Seed around despair and empowerment. This work grew from the nuclear disarmament movement in the 1970s, and the processes and ideas have been adapted and are in use today
Rosemary Randall’s work with the Carbon Conversation in Great Britain. She is a psychotherapist who has written a lot about loss and grief in relation to climate change, and has set up a small group program which psychologically supports people in climate change action
Anecdotal and casual conversations via personal blogs and listservs
A handful of research papers about the psychological impacts of climate change, including mental health, on the general public (there is little about the impact on professionals but this is changing).

Personal experiences have motivated some (such as Ann Murugan) to create businesses which encourage people to talk about mental health in environmental professions and empower people, via workshops and other tools, to make a positive impact in our world.

Even the Australian Psychology Society takes this topic seriously by showcasing psychology’s role in addressing climate change and environmental threats. They have created an excellent site which lists a growing number of papers and organisations who are dealing with this issue. Psychology for a Safe Climate are doing excellent work getting the psychology profession in Australia to think about and do research in this area.

These groups and individuals inspire and empower me. My own search for information and support during my depression turned up very little because I was using the wrong search terms. And I didn’t know who to talk to who could lead me in the right direction. How do you get the right answers if you don’t know how to ask the right questions? Plus, I felt foolish talking about my illness when I knew of no other person who had climate-related depression. It was extremely isolating and meant my recovery took longer than necessary.

Moving the conversation into the public domain

Now that my health has improved, I often bring up this topic in conversation to see what people say, and have been surprised at the number of people who have had similar experiences (where were they when I needed them!!??). And nearly all of them gave overwhelmingly positive responses to my suggestion of creating a casual support group, writing a paper about this topic, or spreading the conversation via social media. It is empowering to acknowledge and accept how we feel, especially when we share with others.

Their response shows there are many people like me in the world, and we need an easier way to connect and support each other. This is why we started the Climate Wellbeing Network. Each of us in the organising committee felt a similar need to do something in this space, and to fill an obvious gap.

This blog is my start in getting more of us connected, and progressing the conversation into our professions and into mainstream media. It’s not much, but it’s another step in the journey.

So, who wants to join me for the journey and the conversation?

* * *

Nicole Thornton has worked as an environmental scientist for more than 20 years. She has had a diverse career which has ranged from sustainable and outdoor education and ecotourism in Australia, Canada and the UK (her favourite being the Daintree and Cape Tribulation rainforest in far north Queensland) to household water research and social practices during the recent Millenium drought in Australia; from water sensitive cities to liveable and sustainable households and communities. Her interests are varied and include good food, stories and conversation, getting out and exploring nature, traveling, and meeting new people. Oh, and actually stopping to smell the roses whenever she walks past.

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Shattering the Veil of Delusion and Falling Down the Hole of Despair

Do environmental professionals need a shrink?* Starting the conversation

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