What Can I Offer?
Ramblings from a recovering cynic.
I have been an environmentalist since my art student days in the early 90’s, inspired by Suzi Gablick’s Re-enchantment of Art, going on to complete a Masters in Ecology and Society, working in the UK for an environmental NGO, in Bolivia as an environmental researcher, and in New Zealand as an environmental educator and artist. ... And then I took a long break. Partly this was because I had two babies, partly it was because I was burnt out and partly because I felt that climate change was unstoppable… cynicism had set in, just as sure as middle age spread.
It seems to me that motivation and emotion are closely linked. How we feel affects how we act. So I sat down with a hot cup of tea, said “Right” in a determined way, and wrote a list of my emotional responses to climate change. The list makes sober reading but I can recommend doing it.
What do I feel about the state of the world?
I feel angry:
I feel sad:
I feel guilty:
(While sipping my now cold tea, I circled all these feelings as contributing to my cynicism and sense of disempowerment. Then I thought about the rare times when I do feel hopeful).
I feel hopeful when:
(My tea now finished, I thought to myself, “If I do have some hope, then why don’t I act on that?” And then I realized something: What held me back these days was not my cynicism but my fears. I have the urge to act, but my fears get the better of me. I’m not proud of these fears, but I wrote them down too).
I am afraid:
That’s a pretty mixed bag of emotions. They’re all in there but the big question is:
‘What creates the right emotional conditions to motivate us to act?’
Here I looked to a situation in my life where I have managed to create the right conditions to act; my art. In my studio when the critic arises and the painting is simply not working and I feel it’s not worth continuing…. what do I do then? I acknowledge the critic, notice the physical feelings that go with it, and just allow that to be a part of me. And then something in the painting usually calls my attention and I am drawn back into the flow.
This small shift in how I hold my emotions makes the difference between painting and not painting. I can have all the right materials and skills to paint but if the critic gets a grip of me (silently, without anyone noticing), I’m a gonner! All those other materials and skills might as well not even exist.
The difference between action and non-action is how we respond to our emotions. How do we meet our own anger, sadness, hope and fear? Do we shy away, or can we hold them compassionately and continue to act? That is where the balance of power lies. Not in our special abilities, our campaigning skills, our environmental know-how. We develop those skills fairly easily once we have made the commitment to act. But first we must learn to welcome our emotional conditions, essentially to feel the fear and do it anyway! Again and again.
Creativity of any form involves anxiety by necessity. As Eric Maisel who wrote the book 'Fearless Creating' points out, the difference between an artist and someone with artist block is that the artist has learned to manage the anxiety that goes along with the creative act. The same goes for the creators of change.
So this is something I have to offer: experience of managing creative anxiety.
And I offer it even though I feel anxious in doing so!
I have been an environmentalist since my art student days in the early 90’s, inspired by Suzi Gablick’s Re-enchantment of Art, going on to complete a Masters in Ecology and Society, working in the UK for an environmental NGO, in Bolivia as an environmental researcher, and in New Zealand as an environmental educator and artist. ... And then I took a long break. Partly this was because I had two babies, partly it was because I was burnt out and partly because I felt that climate change was unstoppable… cynicism had set in, just as sure as middle age spread.
It seems to me that motivation and emotion are closely linked. How we feel affects how we act. So I sat down with a hot cup of tea, said “Right” in a determined way, and wrote a list of my emotional responses to climate change. The list makes sober reading but I can recommend doing it.
What do I feel about the state of the world?
I feel angry:
- I am angry that governments do not listen to those they represent
- I am angry that massive corporations put profit before planet
- I am angry that we let ourselves be drugged by consumerism
- I am angry that there is manufactured denial of climate change
- I am angry that it is still not widely acceptable to stand up to all this
I feel sad:
- I am sad that we are loosing so much biodiversity, beauty and wonder
- I am sad that my boys may become cannon fodder in resource wars
- I am sad that people already suffer from the ravages of climate instability
- I am sad that I feel so defeated and cynical these days
I feel guilty:
- I feel guilty that I don’t do enough to stop what is happening for my children’s sake
- I feel guilty that I fly half way around the world to visit my family, and other such discrepancies
(While sipping my now cold tea, I circled all these feelings as contributing to my cynicism and sense of disempowerment. Then I thought about the rare times when I do feel hopeful).
I feel hopeful when:
- I see the energy, determination and optimism of keen young environmentalists
- I think of the creative things people have achieved throughout history
- I think about the goodness in people – our core sense of what is right
- I see how the earth has evolved through ongoing change and will continue to do so, with or without us
- I hear climate change reframed as a chance to rise up, be our best and come together to create change
- I take even the smallest step in the direction of creating change
(My tea now finished, I thought to myself, “If I do have some hope, then why don’t I act on that?” And then I realized something: What held me back these days was not my cynicism but my fears. I have the urge to act, but my fears get the better of me. I’m not proud of these fears, but I wrote them down too).
I am afraid:
- I am afraid to take action because I might not be good enough
- I am afraid of conflict situations – always have been
- I am afraid to look stupid or fit certain stereotypes
- I am afraid to be arrested or yelled at by ‘authority’
- I am afraid that our attempts might fail; too little, too late
- I am even more afraid of what will happen if I don’t take action
That’s a pretty mixed bag of emotions. They’re all in there but the big question is:
‘What creates the right emotional conditions to motivate us to act?’
Here I looked to a situation in my life where I have managed to create the right conditions to act; my art. In my studio when the critic arises and the painting is simply not working and I feel it’s not worth continuing…. what do I do then? I acknowledge the critic, notice the physical feelings that go with it, and just allow that to be a part of me. And then something in the painting usually calls my attention and I am drawn back into the flow.
This small shift in how I hold my emotions makes the difference between painting and not painting. I can have all the right materials and skills to paint but if the critic gets a grip of me (silently, without anyone noticing), I’m a gonner! All those other materials and skills might as well not even exist.
The difference between action and non-action is how we respond to our emotions. How do we meet our own anger, sadness, hope and fear? Do we shy away, or can we hold them compassionately and continue to act? That is where the balance of power lies. Not in our special abilities, our campaigning skills, our environmental know-how. We develop those skills fairly easily once we have made the commitment to act. But first we must learn to welcome our emotional conditions, essentially to feel the fear and do it anyway! Again and again.
Creativity of any form involves anxiety by necessity. As Eric Maisel who wrote the book 'Fearless Creating' points out, the difference between an artist and someone with artist block is that the artist has learned to manage the anxiety that goes along with the creative act. The same goes for the creators of change.
So this is something I have to offer: experience of managing creative anxiety.
And I offer it even though I feel anxious in doing so!