I persevered last night, and opened my first coconut. Dan handed me the nut and a hammer and told me to start in on it. He suggested I toss it up slightly with each blow so as not to end up with a bruised hand at the end, but that was simply not possible given my level of coordination. My hand survived, and even my thumbs escaped the experience unscathed. The coconut, however, did not survive. After much pounding, it eventually yielded to my persistence. The floor was littered with bits of shell and tiny shreds of coconut.
Climate anxiety has entered the lexicon. For the last few years, it’s been talked about more and more in news articles, science discussions and even in spiritual care contexts. I shrugged it off as overly sensitive people, but the shoe has dropped for me now too. Extreme weather or one sort another everywhere all at once for the past few years has brought home what I always acknowledged intellectually but didn’t really synthesized emotionally: climate change is actually coming and it will be bad. I feel so angry and impotent in the face of these massive systems working against my small efforts to reduce waste and burn less carbon. So I went to the climate forum for this provincial election. It felt really important just to be in the room to declare “this subject matters!” The room had a remarkable number of grey hairs in it. This brought up terribly mixed feelings for me. On the one hand, good of them to continue to care about these issues, even as they can anticipate it w...
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