The Wasteland

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“The Journey is about accepting that we each have a responsibility for the way we live our lives, for our footprint on the planet… It’s necessary first of all to see and understand the big picture - but then we need to zoom in, and focus on our own particular part of it.”
SHARON BLACKIE, IF WOMEN ROSE ROOTED

If you read my last post, you’ll know I have chosen to embark on my own version of the eco-heroine’s journey, inspired by the structure set out by Sharon Blackie in If Women Rose Rooted. Today takes me to the Wasteland, the start of the journey, and a moment to take stock of where I am right now. In essence, this stage asks the question: what is broken, and what needs to change? I’ve chosen to use some of Blackie’s questions as prompts for this post - that won’t necessarily be the case as I move forward, but responding to questions at this stage is a lot easier than simply diving in. This post does not offer suggestions or solutions, rather it points out what is already happening in my life and in the world. It wasn’t easy to write, and it’s not a piece full of joy, but it is honest and from the heart.

The Bigger Picture

“What are the ecological, social and political injustices in the world you live in?”

I’m not going to lie - this feels like a vast and intimidating place to start; there are so many. 2020 in particular has highlighted injustices that I previously wasn’t even aware of, or perhaps didn’t appreciate the extent of the problem. My first thoughts go to the anti-racism course - Do The Work - I’ve been working through from Rachel Cargyle. Before Black Lives Matter came to the forefront in May and June this year, I naively believed the natural world to be available to all, that everyone - no matter their race, age, gender - could find solace in the Earth. What I failed to fully appreciate is that everyone does not inhabit the Earth on equal footing, and if that is the case, how can everyone interact and engage with it in the same with I do?

In an article titled ‘Why Every Environmentalist Should Be Anti-Racist’, Leah Thomas argues there is “very clear data that communities of color have been most exposed to poor air quality and environmental conditions”. That’s just for starters. What about the bird-watching incident in Central Park? What about the fact that “Black and Asian people rarely visit rural Britain” because they don’t feel welcome, they feel “disowned”? Being in the Wasteland requires me to acknowledge these injustices, begin to understand them, and to take action when I can. I’m at the very start of this journey to unlearn and relearn; I acknowledge there is a way to go, and I want to take it one step at a time, to fully understand and absorb rather than skim over the facts.

There are many more injustices, of course, that are wound up with my own place in the Wasteland: climate change, the treatment of animals in captivity and throughout the world, females being underpaid. Unravelling these injustices (and many more) and learning about them will no doubt be part of my journey - at the moment they feel like big topics weighing me down because I know I’m not doing enough. It will be a lifelong learning process, and it will no doubt move at different speeds - slower with ‘big’ subjects or issues, or if I’m struggling mentally, perhaps - but currently I am acknowledging all these exist in my world, and therefore my Wasteland, and they all affect me in one way or another.

My own part in the Wasteland

“How is the Wasteland manifested in your own life?”

Currently the Wasteland hurtles me back and forth between anxiety and depression, sometimes settling in both at the same time, but rarely allowing me to occupy the moment. Anxiety forces me to catastrophise the future, and depression forces me to fixate on the past. I’ve suffered with Generalised Anxiety Disorder for a number of years, but it is my Health Anxiety that has caused me greater pain since my son was born in 2017. Depression is something I’ve only recently acknowledged, but I think it’s been there for a while, lingering and hiding beneath the surface. I experience the two differently though, with anxiety showing up each and every day, and depression only emerging in surges every few weeks, or every month or so. I’m not going to document the intricacies of either my anxiety or depression, but suffice to say they are both still present, and I am ready to learn new ways to approach them.

“What kills or confines all that is vibrant and alive in you?”

Fear. Last year I came to the realisation that I am fearful of allowing myself to be happy, because what if? I am fearful of so many other things too: of illness and death, of not being a good enough mum, of asking too much from my family, of never amounting to anything, of the injustices and shadows of the world being reflected in my own life and choices. Things I am sure most of us have or will feel at some point - I know I am not alone here - but it is the constancy of the fear that I know I need to change. Blackie shares: “Fear might then become an opportunity to display courage… Understanding, and transforming the potential for darkness in ourselves gives us wisdom – a wisdom which informs our actions, our decisions, and our interactions with others.”

Each day for the past month I’ve begun with a ten minute yoga practice, and when encouraged to choose a word for the day, select ‘strength’. Perhaps ‘courage’ should replace it?

“In what ways have you been cut off from the wellspring, from the source of life?”

Through unhealthy fixation on a myriad of different things, and from an inability to find faith in life. From trying to do too much too soon. From worrying, not living.

Seeing all this mapped out on the page feels strange and uncertain, but also like I have laid myself bare. I have shared my whole self with the Earth, spread out what is broken on her scorched soil and acknowledged I want to leave it behind. I imagine the soil cracking, opening, ready to absorb what I wish to release, to process and reform.

I choose strength, not pain. I choose passion, not aggression. I choose courage, not fear.