Seeking Inspiration in the Midst of Apathy

     My semester began in a haze of sickness and overwhelm. My desire to enter the semester inspired, rested and ready to be part of the knowledge machine once again was overridden; Not only by lack of time and good health but also by the backlog of unprocessed bullshit from last semester still percolating through my brain. My break; spent working and immersed in the emotionality and stress of family time, was simply not enough to propel me into this semester. I know that I'm not alone in my habit of occasionally succumbing fully to the "What the fuck is the point of all of this?"-ness of my human brain. At times, that feeling is nearly imperceptible, living only in the darkest recesses of my mind. Other times, that sense of futility is a very real hue that tints every aspect of my life.  The reality of this becomes especially acute in the context of Environmental Studies curricula; this field of study is heartbreaking, and only becomes more so as we delve deeper.

     Sometimes the relevant question, as in class yesterday, is something to the effect of "what inspires you?" or "What is exciting about the work that we are doing?".  Other times, the question becomes something like "how do I get out of bed in the morning?", Or "How do I make myself show up today?" My experience recently has been more often with the latter category of questions, and at times it's difficult to summon an answer. In my experience, the most persistent critique of environmental studies curricula is that it is frequently lacking in quantitative perspectives. But then comes a time (like now), when we (I?) need fortification, and inspiration, and perhaps a little extra bit of light to get us on our feet day after day. I know that for some, this motivation is situated solidly in quantitative discourse, but that has never been the case for me, which is why I am always grateful when a reading shows up that might serve to clear the layers of apathy and powerlessness, even momentarily.

     This week's readings from Sarah Ray's Environmental Studies capstone class were such a perfect demonstration of Sarah's understanding of the "affective arc" of Environmental Studies curricula. She tends to present us with these beautiful, heart-affirming pieces exactly when we need them. This was particularly true of Paul Hawken's piece "You are Brilliant and the Earth is Hiring."  Initially a graduation speech, this is one of those pieces of writing that serves to lift us, to simultaneously empower and humble. Hawken writes with such clarity about human reciprocity and resilience, saying:

"Inspiration is not garnered from the litanies of what may befall us; it resides in humanity's ability to restore, redress, rebuild, recover, re-imagine, and reconsider." (Hawken, 56).

     As I read Hawken's essay, I felt a slow sense of being buoyed out of my indifference and grief.  His words lifted me, however temporarily, into a sense of gratitude and awe and deep abiding love for humanity and the work that we are all doing. I adore this essay, but it was also a great reminder of something that I know to be true about myself, but which sometimes gets lost in the grind: Written language has always been my most reliable companion. Reading and writing have provided me with a sense of connection, of transcendence, of deep human-ness for as long as I can remember. Now, I know that reading and writing do not necessarily provide all of that awesomeness to everyone. But I'm willing to bet that every one of you brilliant ENST-ers finds that feeling somewhere, whether it be in visual art, music, conversation, being in nature, whatever. Maybe I'll call it a communion with the deepest most human part of one's own mind, and maybe allowing yourself to feel that once in awhile is the best gift you can give yourself and the people around you. Just a theory.  In any case, I'm grateful for the reminder to nurture that bit of myself, and I hope all of you occasionally allow yourselves to be illuminated by a little bit of whatever makes you shine brightest. The world will thank you for it.

PS- In the same passage I referenced above, Hawken quotes Mary Oliver. Here is the full version of the poem he mentions; one of my favorites~ just thought I'd share:

Mary Oliver
The Journey

One day you finally knew what you had to do, and began, though the voices around you kept shouting their bad advice -- though the whole house began to tremble and you felt the old tug at your ankles. "Mend my life!" each voice cried. But you didn't stop. You knew what you had to do, though the wind pried with its stiff fingers at the very foundations, though their melancholy was terrible. It was already late enough, and a wild night, and the road full of fallen branches and stones. But little by little, as you left their voice behind, the stars began to burn through the sheets of clouds, and there was a new voice which you slowly recognized as your own, that kept you company as you strode deeper and deeper into the world, determined to do the only thing you could do -- determined to save the only life that you could save.