When we reflect upon various human-induced trends across the Earth – plastics in the ocean, habitat destruction, air pollution, wars, declining health and well-being, strange weather events, or spiraling costs of living – we can experience a sense of crisis.
The interrelated challenges we face seem intractable. So much so that the term ‘metacrises’ was coined to encompass the pervasive overwhelm of complex systemic problems that threaten our existence.
The implication of crisis is that through this pressure point, stress was created, and transformation will also occur through this same degree of tension. While the word suggests a short-term period of intensity, what we have been experiencing is ongoing with no clear signs of resolution.
When will it end? When can we breathe easily and enjoy the simplicity of each day without a shadow of threat?
When I reflect upon my personal experience, I can recognise that in one form or another, crisis has been a pervasive part of the cultural narrative. I also recognise I cannot fully enjoy the present when I believe a terrible future is heading towards us.
The ongoing “crisis”
As a young child in the 1970’s, I learned that petrol supplies were dwindling – there was an energy crisis. In many parts of the world, people were also suffering starvation – there was not enough food to sustain the growing population. This type of information cast a shadow on my sunny life and enabled scarcity to settle into my consciousness.
When I was in high school, I learned about the greenhouse effect, which later morphed into global warming. It then evolved into the catch-all phrase of climate change or more recently, climate crisis.
Whatever it’s called, the message is – we cannot trust the weather and it is our fault. We cannot feel safe anymore, because the problem is everywhere. It is unpredictable and out of control.
Trouble is looming. Large-scale trouble abounds. This has been the story my whole life, but I wonder how helpful it is at inspiring meaningful change?
How do we live creatively on the edge of this precipice? With the perception of a lack of safety? How can we become good ancestors, who step into the energy of the moment and create a more beautiful future?
Recently, I read an article that suggested the transformative momentum of our current metacrisis – the existential threats that swirl around us, was dependent upon the actions of government. This struck me as the kind of thinking that has led to our current predicament – We cannot vote our way to a healthier world.
Our freedom and flourishing are dependent upon our willingness to take responsibility. I am not talking about rugged individualism, but rather, a heart-led tending to the multispecies world within and around us.
So, what might this look like in practice?
When the village I live in was in heavy flood in 2017, about a dozen people were stranded on a shrinking patch of dry ground. They had left their cars and waded or swam through swollen culverts, in the hope of seeking safety in the village. However, the bridge into the village was submerged beneath the swirling brown waters of the creek that converged with the Tweed River. There was no chance of getting across.
As the waters rose around them, news spread through the village of their plight. Two locals with canoes then braved the dangerous floodwaters and paddled them to safety, one at a time. It was a high-risk mission, but there was no time to wait for the emergency services to arrive.
In that moment, people did what was necessary to help those that were stranded. I believe it is through this heart-centered presence and proactivity that we can arrive at the other side of a crisis. We cannot outsource our despairs or wait for authority figures to pick up the pieces.
The crisis effect
How does the narrative of a myriad of wicked problems that are way beyond my control impact on my psyche and the way I relate to life?
I am acutely aware that I add to the experience of crisis through my own thoughts and behaviour.
For a while, I believed that rallying and being an activist would ensure a better future. That if enough of us demanded change from our leaders, change would occur. However, overwhelm and despair await on the other side of that perspective.
Upon reflection, asking the government to act the way we think they should bequeaths them with our agency. It somehow entrenches external power over us, and therefore, our experience of powerlessness.
Sometimes it is important to draw the line and say NO – regardless of governments’ increasing legislation to remove our right to voice dissent or engage in non-violent protest. What can be done? What lies beyond overwhelm and despair on one hand, and numb disengagement on the other?
Watching my dog play or the birds flying about my garden, I can observe their carefree pleasure. I challenge myself to adopt the same simple delight in presence. I notice the effect this brings upon my physical body. At first there is some resistance, in those places where I’m holding on most tightly. But the longer I stay in this state, the more I feel tension leave my neck and jaw, and I stop holding my breath. Taking this further, I allow my edges to soften – I too am part of the landscape.
Whatever may occur, we can manage it better from a place of calm. Learning to quiet the mind and feel spaciousness within oneself, connects us with our gestational power and creative possibility.
Courting a new response
Looking toward the other-than-human world for guidance, we can observe that resilient, thriving ecosystems are rich in diversity of plants, animals and microorganisms. They engage in a multiplicity of intra-actions that support a symbiotic flourishing.
Perhaps, we can support our own resilience and flourishing by consciously applying this principle of diversity to our own ecology. For example, diversifying our sources of information, and our activities. We can switch off the news and allow ourselves to feel into the world. To actively engage with life rather than passively absorb information from various forms of mass media.
We cannot resolve any crisis by resisting it; Only by feeling into it, and letting it inform our being, can we change our response and behaviour.
How do we hold the tension between grief at the state of things, and a willingness to participate? How do we remain open to experiencing beauty despite the awareness of loss?
Carl Jung wrote that when we can hold the tension of the opposites, great energy emerges. When we can hold space for conflicting realities at one time, our consciousness expands and we can court a more creative response.
The continual push and pull between various political, religious and cultural tribes can keep us in a circular pattern – Angrily asserting how right we are, while de-humanising those who hold a different point of view, or even refusing to listen. Such behaviour can reveal a divided psyche, and cement division within communities.
Knowing that this time of crisis is also an intensely creative opportunity, is one way to hold the tension and imagine something different. Holding a calm centre amid increasing chaos and uncertainty is a form of radical activism which can guide the way of the heart.
Send us a message