Last week I wrote a newsletter about What Collapse Feels Like. Facing what the growing disruptions of ecological and social systems might look like is heavy. My intention is not to dwell in fear, but rather to ground my visions and dreams for the future in the reality unfolding around us.
For anyone working on climate, equality or social stability, the outcome of the US election was certainly bad news. While I felt the sadness and weight of the outcome, I was not very surprised by it. Things will likely get a lot worse before they can get better. Increase in fascism and polarization is an expected response in a collapsing world as people are losing much of their material wealth and comfort and become even more upset by the systems and institutions that are failing them.
How do we keep up love and connection in a world that seems to get darker by the day?
Islands of Sanity
When leaving my startup three years ago to venture into climate, I had an ambition to save the world. Not all alone, but to make the biggest contribution I could make.
Now in hindsight, I can see how the belief in my ability to have impact on where the world is heading was also and attempt of control. A protection from feeling powerless, from feeling like the small, insignificant role that I actually play in the greater scheme of things.
Do not try to save
the whole world
or do anything grandiose.
Instead, create
a clearing
in the dense forest
of your life
and wait there
patiently,
until the song
that is your life
falls into your own cupped hands
and you recognize and greet it.
Only then will you know
how to give yourself
to this world
so worthy of rescue.— Martha Postlethwaite
I have now found more understanding and acceptance that I can’t prevent a lot of the suffering ahead on a global scale. Too big is the challenge, too deeply rooted are the causes of our predicament, too strong the momentum of our system dynamics.
But I certainly can have an impact on a smaller scale.
Have you ever experienced what an Island of Sanity amidst a lot of chaos can do?
For example a person who stays calm and connected in a conflict or fight? A friendship that allows you to step out of a seemingly overwhelming situation and find grounding even when things are tough and you thought you lost everything? A group of people who make you feel like you’re not crazy for despairing about the world?
From a systems lens, Islands of Sanity are parts of the system that hold resilience when the rest of the system comes out of balance.
At this time when lives and possibilities are destroyed by casual destructive decisions, I aspire for us to be sane leaders devoted to restoring and awakening the finest qualities of being human—our generosity, creativity, and kindness. We will not change the world, but we can create Islands of Sanity where our human spirits come alive and we contribute in ways that make more possible
— Margaret J. Wheatley
The last couple of years which I spent in therapeutic and somatic healing contexts have given me a good understanding of why Islands of Sanity are so powerful.
When we experience a (perceived) dangerous situation that evokes a fear response, our nervous system gets activated and our body switches into a fight or flight mode. While our ability to fend off the danger (like a sabertooth tiger) increases, we lose the ability to act with generosity, creativity, and kindness.
Experiencing safety through nervous system regulation can help us in these situations to process our fears and emotions, so that we can shift into a state that allows for our collaborative and connecting qualities to surface again. Regulation can come in many forms, one of the most powerful though is co-regulation which allows us to find safety in another person and in community.
While we can’t stop the collapse of ecological and social systems and their scary implications on our lives, we can create Islands of Sanity. For ourselves, for the people around us and for everyone else who needs it. We can create spaces that acknowledge the insanity of the world and make us feel sane again. We can live with generosity, creativity and kindness even amidst the chaos.
We can live with Love in Times of Collapse.
Finding Safety
There are many forms an Island of Sanity can have. It is a lived experience, much more than an object. It can be listening to a song. It can be having a grounding conversation with a friend. It can be sitting next to a tree. I hope that this newsletter can offer that experience for some of you, writing it certainly offers it to me.
As I have lately felt an increasing desire to live closer to nature and thought of finding a place outside of the city, I’ve also been wondering, what an Island of Sanity could look like as a physical space.
A sanctuary. A refuge. A safer haven.
It’s very clear to me that as our ecological systems collapse, extreme weather events increase and our hyper-complex civilization faces disruptions, there is no safe place. It’s not possible to escape collapse. And I’m neither interested in building a doomsday bunker in New Zealand, nor stockpiling cans and weapons.
My intention is not to withdraw from the world, but to create something beautiful and invite others to enjoy it with me. To be in community.
While it’s nowhere completely safe, there are relatively safer places. It is indeed valuable to not just ignore climate science and projected impacts, but to understand the difference in risks and resilience.
We have recently started looking more closely at maps of climate impacts in different areas of Germany, ranging from water scarcity over heatwaves to floods. And we’ve started to list other factors that have an impact on the safety of a place. I’m happy to share more about our process and learnings if anyone is interested.
But safety is not just about physical risks.
Safety is often much more about our experience of life.
A Safer Haven
In an increasingly more chaotic and difficult world, what if there was a refuge. A place people can visit to experience sanity when the world feels crazy. To find safety in times of great disruption, change and loss. To be seen, heard and held in their individual struggle and challenges.
Where nature grounds us. Where we come back into connection with the seasons, with the ecological systems we depend on, with the larger web of life. Where we experience community and connection.
What might a visit to this Island of Sanity look like?
I’m imagining an experience less structured, less guided than a retreat. More recharging and grounding than a workcation in nature. More connecting, supported and grounding than a holiday trip.
You temporarily become part of a community. You live with others, you contribute, you attend community activities with everyone, you attend the rituals of the community. You become part of the ecosystem and connect with the land, the plants and the non-human beings.
You also follow some program. You are being listened to and receive guidance by a space-holder or coach. You receive sessions in breathwork, bodywork or other healing modalities. You do movement and physical exercise. You get to reflect and explore what is moving through you at the moment.
You experience safety, even when everywhere else the world seems to be going up in flames.
When you leave, you might have found sanity again.
