Tools to Cope With Climate Anxiety (and Your Climate-Denying Uncle)
I’m a mother of two young children. I’ve been concerned about the climate crisis for years and have worked hard to reduce our family’s carbon footprint. But now, with more extreme weather and increasingly catastrophic climate news, the future I imagine for my children feels more apocalyptic.
We’re already parenting through hyperinflation, a pandemic and its aftermath—not to mention the rise in viruses and infections—all while navigating the relentless demands of daily life. Governments and corporations remain willfully, irresponsibly ignorant. Even the most optimistic climate activists are losing heart. And yet, our kids need us. Our shared home needs us. So, how do I show up for my kids, my partner, my employer, my family, my friends, my community, and myself, and continue to engage in the climate fight, while holding on to hope that my children will inherit a livable Earth? How do we take care of ourselves and our loved ones, and hold on to our sanity, while continuing this fight?
Firstly, well done for everything you’ve already done to lower your family’s footprint and avoid the traps that you see others struggle with. Don’t discount your efforts just because they feel that they’re never quite enough. You can’t singlehandedly compensate for all the people who aren’t doing their share or, as you say, those who are determinedly moving in the opposite direction. But do take time to stop, pause, and recognize the value of what you have done. It matters, for the planet, for your children, and for your own integrity.
You notice that even the most optimistic climate activists are despairing. And yes, there is plenty to despair about right now. I would say that we need to sometimes feel some despair and hopelessness as part of being alive, awake, and caring in today’s world. It is the price we pay for living with heart. The key is to not set up home in your despair. Let yourself visit it, feel it, but remember: It is only part of what you feel. Then reconnect with the reasons you keep going. Moving through this emotional cycle again and again is how we develop emotional resilience.
So, don’t fear despair. It is an emotion that helps you grow strong resilient roots that push their way down deeper into the difficult ground of life today. Think of the despair as a stone that your roots need to grow around, rather than something to be feared and avoided. Do not get depressed by it, recognize it as an important part of growing resilience and wisdom (even though it is uncomfortable).
You asked: How do we keep our sanity? Remember that feeling these difficult emotions in response to multiple crises isn’t a sign of mental illness—it’s a sign of your mental health. In an increasingly insane world, we all need to reconsider what sanity looks like. It’s OK to not feel OK. Just make sure, again, to not set up home in the “not OK-ness.” Hold on to radical hope—not naive hope—and trust that there are ways through this.
And don’t conflate your pain with judgement. If you feel despair, sadness, grief or frustration, don’t judge yourself for feeling that way. Don’t despair about feelings of despair. That spiral—of judging your emotions while you’re feeling that way—doesn’t end well. It is an internal, emotional civil war, and it’s exhausting.
Above all, don’t let these times erode or cause you to doubt what is most important in your life. You clearly care deeply about your family, your children, your friends. When you feel overwhelmed, come back to the heart of it all: love. Protect that fiercely.
And finally—don’t take this the wrong way—but always showing up sounds exhausting to me. Yes, for your children and those who depend on you, you often must. But is there anywhere in your life where you could not always show up? Don’t become too heroic in this fight. Yes, we need people in this fight—but we also need sanctuary. So, retreat sometimes. Pull up the drawbridge, fill the moat with crocodiles, and have a break from it all. Look at the stars and connect with the infinite wonder of something big and beautiful. Feel awe. Then, go back out there after someone else has polished your armor and you’ve had a nap. Be imperfect. Be human. And keep going.