At the start of the year when I chose to focus on ecological grief I did not expect to be facing 'normal' grief at the end of the year.
I had studied the topic for months and felt well equipped, capable and confident in my practice and how It was unfolding. Before I knew it grief became a very real problem for me and everything I thought I knew fell apart.
Grief does not effect everyone the same way it doesn't stick to any script or stages like I had read about. Judith Butler put it in the best words I could find:
"One cannot say, ‘Oh, I’ll go through loss this way, and that will be the result, and I’ll apply myself to the task, and I’ll endeavor to achieve the resolution of grief that is before me.’’ I think one is hit by waves, and that one starts out the day with an aim, a project, a plan, and finds oneself foiled. One finds oneself fallen. One is exhausted but does not know why. Something is larger than one ‘s own deliberate plan, one’s own project, one’s own knowing and choosing."
The plans that I had made fell apart in both my art practice and my personal life. They say when you make plans, God laughs and that really feels true. Just as I had gained a sense of confidence in my work and myself I was shaken to the ground.
However from the ground the only way is up, and as heavy and depressing it has felt, it has also gotten better even in a short amount time.
The point is the grief harbours incredibly potential. To reflect, change, recalibrate our priorities. Having felt it on a personal level, I can only imagine what is possible on an ecological scale.
Climate psychologist Margaret Salamon explains that:
“When someone dies, that’s it. There’s no room for changing the impact…But with climate, you [still] need to fight to protect what can still be protected. There are two options… collapse or transform.”
some food for thought
