Embedded Files
Last week marked Earth Day. As we witness and feel the tangible effects of climate change in our own surroundings—and hear the rising climate anxiety, especially among younger generations—it can be difficult to hold on to hope. And yet, hope minifested itself in an unexpected place. On my way to work, I noticed a woman in a roadside ditch collecting garbage. For a moment, I wondered if she was a homeless lady looking for treasures in the ditch. .Then she waved, and I realized I knew her! .
My deeply eco-conscious husband recently shared an article with me that draws on the wisdom of Lakota Elder Floyd “Red Cow” Westerman. He writes, “When a civilization forgets how to live, it dies… Something is dying. Not loudly, not with sirens or announcements, but quietly, from the inside, the way a tree dies before anyone notices the bark has gone grey. Most of us feel it but cannot name it. We scroll faster, work harder, buy more, travel further, and still come home to a feeling that something essential is missing. That feeling is not personal failure. It is a symptom.” (see whole article)
As I join the lament of millions around the world over our destructive choices toward the future of the earth, I find myself imagining the planet as a patient welcomed into one of the hospice rooms where I work. In hospice, we recognize when cure is no longer the goal, and care shifts toward comfort, dignity, and presence. It raises a difficult question: are our efforts—recycling, picking up garbage from roadside ditches, teaching children to care—acts of healing, or are they merely palliative at this stage?
Meanwhile,the abusers of the earth —those who exploit and deplete the earth still hold the greatest power. Will the earth die because of us? Or is it more truthful to say that the earth will endure, and it is we who risk perishing—unless we undergo a profound change of heart, turning from being abusers into earth keepers?
And yet, small acts matter. Seeing my neighbours collecting garbage from our ditches felt like a quiet form of resistance, a sign of something still alive. It brought to mind the words of Epistle to the Romans: “For the creation waits in eager expectation for the children of God to be revealed” (Rom 8:19).
Perhaps hope is revealed not in grand gestures, but in these grounded, humble acts of care. “Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth” (Mt 5:5).. The word humble shares its roots with humus—that which is close to the earth. To be truly down to earth, then, may be the beginning of becoming people through whom hope quietly manifests itself and patient earth receives dignified care.
In what ways are you a manifestation of hope for the earth and those who will live on it after you?
Page updated
Google Sites
Report abuse