illustration by Sonia. 
See more about Sonia's illustrated stories. 

​Are you inspired to share your experience?​
We welcome all contributions to the group in whatever formats enable people to express themselves. Please contact us to discuss how best we can share your voice, experience and stories. Thank you.
​For more information, please email audrey@ecoanxiousresilient.org

I make a footprint in the mud, then stop to look. I’ve come to the park for some inspiration. How much carbon was generated making these boots, I wonder? And these clothes I’m wearing? There is no escape from the commerce machine, from cheap foods, and from ultimate doom! 
 
Then I see something, and the wheels of my mind switch gears, so to speak. 
 
An oak tree. They can stand for a solid 1000 years, about as long as the Roman Empire. How will the world look when this one drops its final leaf? Will we still have rainforests and coral reefs? Will we still have glacial ice? Will New York be aquatic, and Great Lakes empty craters?
 
I think of gears, and systems, and operations. Human beings are good at these things. We’re industrious, organised, always machining away at something. Our capitalist economy is a fine example: both efficient and destructive, at least for now. But what if it worked for the planet?   
 
I leave the park and walk. I feel as solid and green as a giant oak. I spend on eco-things only.   

 
“Those who contemplate the beauty of the earth find reserves of strength that will endure as long as life lasts.”
Rachel Carson, Silent Spring
 
My reserves are dwindling.  There is only a small number of insects in my garden compared to earlier years.  Buddleias, butterfly bushes, attract only a few each year, rather than the veritable hordes of a few years ago.  A clear summer – clear skies, clear of insects.  I rescue bees exhausted from the heat and drought.  Various insects, birds, and mammals visit water receptacles I fill.  My garden turns brown; I water the buddleias and am rewarded by the butterflies’ return.
 
I wander in the woods on too, too hot days, breathing in rich smells, filling my eyes with dappled green leaves, being tickled by bracken, resting in shade offered by venerable trees, marveling in the ancient wisdom of boulders. Sitting on the earth I am not swarmed by the small beings that live there – because there are not so many of them now.  Struggling, I remember I come to the woods to find solace and assurance.  Relaxing into the present, connecting with all beings, sentient and non-sentient, heals me, just for today.  Enough to fill my reserves….just for today.
 
When despair for the world grows in me
and I wake in the night at the least sound
in fear of what my life and my children’s lives may be,
I go and lie down where the wood drake
rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds.
I come into the peace of wild things
who do not tax their lives with forethought
of grief. I come into the presence of still water.
And I feel above me the day-blind stars
waiting with their light. For a time
I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.
Wendell Berry

Are you inspired to write?​
If you are inspired to write a page based on keeping well and active in an age of climate and nature emergencies, we would be pleased to hear from you. We're looking for a maximum of 380 words for each reading and it must be an original piece written by the person submitting it. All entries that are published will be anonymous.
For more information, or if you have any questions, email audrey@ecoanxiousresilient.org

​So I need to give up my sense of purpose, and accept the loss, and myself as lost. 

Then I need to move for a period – change my location, physically or metaphorically (within my memories or points of focus).  Let’s say move for ten minutes and then to stop and look at what’s there.  In detail – what holds my attention, my sensations, what takes me out of myself. Consider it and marvel, as if I’ve never seen it before (grassy bank, abandoned shopping trolley, shop window)*.
 
Let it suggest to me what to do next, and marvel again at the recurrent prompts of stimulus and imagination.  Engage my emotions again, and feel that I have done something unexpected, individual and creative – share it with others.
 
* if this feels hard, as it often will, imagine drawing or describing what you’re looking at, or think about how you might photograph it to put a frame round it.

 I’ll jump over the dark reality of accelerating species loss and the decline of the living world in general, and instead invite you to go into a piece of nature. There is no hierarchy - whether it’s a step into a garden, onto a balcony, a park walk, forest bathing, or out onto the open sea or resting by a quiet lake. Hills with rivers are calling me, making my feet step into chilled, running water. Likewise, trees are magnets. Wind rustling the leaves on the trees is my favorite sound. At times of confusion or hopelessness, I will even claim they can speak to us. “To let go is not to give up,” whisper the dark green leaves insistently from their mosaic clusters, when I have a visit from an internal hurricane of worries.

Silence is not only golden as a figure of speech. The planet is wrapped in noise, and silence has become as rare as metals and minerals exploited to make phones, laptops, TVs, radios and cars. But once pockets of silence are exposed, you have the power to connect in ways devices can’t - connecting to oneself, to dreams as well as to fear and grief. Silence can be the stick in the wheel of a negative, spinning mind. Have you ever sat together with an unpleasant feeling in silence? Not trying to solve it as a problem but embracing it, like you would listen to a friend in need.
​
Stories are portals to time travels, known emotions and unknown places. Opening books can also be like inviting friends, you didn’t know you had. Feeling understood and infused with ideas being integrated in your personalised storage of experiences, might be the seeds for the future you dream of.

“To see that your life is a story while you're in the middle of living it may be a help to living it well.”
Ursula K. Le Guin, Gifts

With a heavy heart I went around, searching, digging, excavating stories that I could cling on to. A part of me refused to believe my destiny was to watch the beautiful colours of this world fade away, not because I couldn’t see them anymore, but because they wouldn’t be there.
​
Then one day, I met a very old and grumpy cockatiel who every night flew in panic, screaming around the house. His human told me he was prone to night terrors and was old and senile. That bird did not like me at all, he was scared, and he hissed but I thought he was trying to tell us something. After careful inspection, I found mice droppings around his cage – the poor bird was being harassed by them every night! A major cleaning event and mice prevention strategy made him so happy he climbed my arm and sang in my ear. He knew I understood him and changed his life for the best.
 
Today I Will Remember
that as long as I live, I must continue to listen, to think for myself and act for others. And in that space, a constant negotiation like the sustained flight of birds, I find hope.
 
“Hope” is the thing with feathers –
That perches in the soul –
And sings the tune without the words –
And never stops – at all –
(Emily Dickinson, "'Hope' is the thing with feathers - (314)")

As a child I unconsciously developed many coping strategies to survive the behaviours of the adults around me. I was lucky to have an exceptional grandmother, companion animals and a deep appreciation of the natural world and I often withdrew and hid with these.  Sometimes I kept quiet too long and then exploded in a destructive rage. I was desperate to feel I could safely fit in somewhere, so I became a people pleaser, a liar and I trusted nobody. I carried these childhood coping strategies into adulthood and more rollercoaster relationships and projects followed.
 
Eventually, in desperation, I was guided to a peer support programme, a range of healthier coping strategies and self care tools. Gradually I got to know myself and I started to make more time for the things that are important to me.  I’m a bit better at taking responsibility for the choices I make and understanding how these impact me and the world around me.  Yet when I read the news and reports about biodiversity loss, animal abuse and climate change, I temporarily slip back into seeing society through the eyes of a helpless, powerless child again.
 
Taking time out to watch the birds and other animals who live in and visit my garden, I see that most other species on Earth have a daily struggle for physical survival and I’m in awe of their resilience and determination.  I don’t expect my own life to be without pain, loss, conflict and disappointments and I’m grateful for the help I’ve received that’s led me to a more meaningful life with clearer responsibilities, principles and objectives.
 
 Today I Will Remember
 
Fear and anger can fuel emotional rollercoasters that are as stressful as they are exhausting. Sometimes strong emotions are a signal I need to tackle something difficult and I can choose to take constructive action making best use of whatever skills, experience and capacity that are available to me.
 
“……principles above personalities.”
 
Tradition 12, Al-Anon Family Groups

If you are inspired to write a page based on keeping well and active in an age of climate and nature emergencies, we would be pleased to hear from you. We're looking for a maximum of 380 words for each reading and it must be an original piece written by the person submitting it. All entries that are published will be anonymous.
For more information, or if you have any questions, email audrey@ecoanxiousresilient.org

I imagine most people ponder the big questions of the universe, especially ‘What is the meaning of life?’ Each of us will have our own thoughts on this according to our individual life journeys. My own hazy thinking has changed as I’ve aged but one idea will not change: purpose and meaning come from appreciating what I’ve been given and doing my best to respect the giver. On that basis Earth, and especially my home country, will always have my highest regard.

As just one person on Earth I accept my limitations and ability to care for, or ‘save’, our Planet and its biodiversity. I no longer hope Earth’s astonishing ecosystem will not change due to the short-sighted priorities of its dominant species. I don’t know what the future holds for life on Earth but I believe our Planet will adjust to its changing circumstances, right up to its final embrace with our Galaxy’s sun.
 
Today I Will Remember
For self-respect I need to be a responsible person who considers the consequences of how I choose to live my life.  I choose to read United Nations reports on biodiversity loss and I look carefully at my local environment and wildlife to seek to understand it and take informed actions to try to protect it and sometimes even enhance it. To be able to do this I need to have a plan to look after myself, especially when I’m disillusioned and struggling with fear and anger.

Today I will focus on what I can do (however small) to make the most of this short time I’ve been given on Earth to enjoy and support my local environment.
 
God grant me the serenity
To accept the things I cannot change
Courage to change the things I can
And the wisdom to know the difference
The Serenity Prayer