A few years ago my former husband and I were preparing to take our daughter to her freshman year in college. I don’t remember what we were doing, but we were in the kitchen and he was acting peculiar. I asked him if he was OK, and he replied, “Yes.” Is your arthritis flaring up? “No.” Are you feeling stressed at work? “No.” Tired? “No.” Sad to see Lucy go? “I’m fine.” Many more questions. Then I stopped for a confused pause. Is it us? Silence. Is something wrong? Silence. Alarm surged into my body. Our marriage had been experiencing challenges, to be sure, but I thought our nearly 40-year foundation was solid. Do you want a divorce? He was silent, but all body language signaled “yes.” We have to go through counselling! “No.” No discussion? “No.” A cortisol bombshell exploded into my nervous system.
My impending divorce, served with a side-helping of no discussion, sent me to bed off-and-on for four months, weeping in deep sadness (aka, grief). While we were still living together my soon-to-be-ex managed to explain one thing to me: I had too much anxiety for him to handle. Now, with time and space to reflect, I realize he had too little anxiety for me to handle.
In this newsletter I won’t delve often into climate grief, loss, future-fear (actually, the future has begun), should I even have a baby?—a question for my children’s Gen Z and millennial generations—and reaching for chocolate or a Water Lily cocktail too often. Britt Wray has that “space” nicely covered in her newsletter Gen Dread (not the chocolate or Water Lily cocktail part, though). But this once I’d like to marinate the topic of anxiety. Not the crippling sheets-over-the-head-shades-drawn-tight anxiety, but healthy anxiety* (this asterisk refers to a non-existent footnote that would succinctly define healthy vs. unhealthy anxiety—there’s plenty on that topic on Dr. Google). As this newsletter is focused on climate change, here’s my definition of healthy climate anxiety in response to living in the here and now: a condition brought on by paying attention to the Anthropocene; a feeling of powerlessness triggered by believing oneself unable to do much about our human-created climate crisis; despite feelings of powerlessness, symptoms are often temporarily relieved through repeated authentic action and tribal support.
Nineteenth century Danish philosopher Søren Kierkegaard nailed the topic of anxiety. “Whoever has learned to be anxious in the right way has learned the ultimate,” wrote Kierkegaard. For me, “The Ultimate” means: 1) you have learned how to be anxious in the “right way” because you are aware of and care deeply about something important that is not being addressed satisfactorily by society, 2) your right anxiety prevents you from ignoring this important thing is not being addressed satisfactorily and, 3) you forge ahead and try to do something about this important thing(s) that you care deeply about that is not being addressed satisfactorily. Example from an Anthropogenic perspective: you stop idling your car while you check your e-mails and text messages because one day you have an epiphany that your idling car times one billion idling vehicles worldwide is ridiculously harmful. See real asterisk footnote**. So you stop doing that thing (idling) and your feelings of anxiety temporarily ratchet down. (Note re: Kierkegaard. Despite the ongoing conversation about his perhaps being or not being an “ist,” right anxiety resonates with me.)
If you truly learn The Ultimate, you do something big or small about the important thing you care deeply about every day. An infusion of periodic tribal support is key to your sustained commitment to The Ultimate. And, caveat: The Ultimate requires you to up your game over time. You can’t just stop idling your car and claim you have truly learned to be anxious in the right way.
This newsletter is dedicated to learning how to be anxious in the right way. I will be learning right alongside you. My divorce submerged me into a profound depth of grief that I slowly emerged from. There was recovery. But there’s no recovery from Anthropogenic anxiety and grief. Grieving the Earthly life we are losing and the anxiety that fact induces must be lived alongside because we all only get one life in which to experience authentic joy, laughter, connection, fascination, and awe. I’ve corralled Kierkegaard’s words into a version that works for me. I hope it works for you, too. Anthropogenic right anxiety is the fuel that is necessary for the world to collectively achieve The Ultimate.
**About Idling Cars. While there is no exact number, consensus statistics indicate we are nearing 1.5 billion operating passenger vehicles worldwide. According to the U.S. Department of Energy, the impact of the U.S.’s 250 million idling vehicles alone contributes 30 million tons of CO2 per year. The Department estimates that eliminating unnecessary idling cars in the U.S. would equal removing five million vehicles from our roads.
Sad but true made more sad discovering this cartoon is almost 20 years old. Thank you to Dan Piraro for permission to use.
Very well crafted and thought provoking Leslie! I may offer a comment after I digest this a bit more. Looking forward to your future musings...
I am struggling with this anxiety, too. It is a perfectly rational anxiety, but still, I have zero defenses against it at 3 am. <3 Thank you for being among my tribe.