Hope Beneath Our Feet_ Restoring Our Place in the Natural World - Martin Keogh [28]
Humanity has been given a diagnosis—environmental catastrophe—and is facing similar questions. There is no cure on the horizon. So how do we live from day to day? What can we do individually and collectively to treat the illness? Human beings seem to be wired more for rapid response than for sustained action over time. A cancer diagnosis, like a tsunami, is an emergency and requires immediate action. Environmental disease, like HIV, is a gradual process of immune dissolution. It’s easy to become complacent and not feel the urgency on a daily basis. In fact, many are not even aware they have been diagnosed. Living with a sense of separateness, they don’t take the fate of the planet personally, even though they share the same lifeblood—the air, the water, and the land.
When diagnosed, I had to wake up and take action on my own behalf, as the experts had no viable solutions at the time. I learned to truly love myself and make my health and well-being a priority. I became less inclined to project ahead into the future, and more willing to live a year at a time. I grew content living with less; having more open space for being in tune with my body’s rhythms and my creative expression became a greater need than having material goods. Gradually, I found myself living more out of a love for life rather than from a fear of dying.
My friend and mentor George Solomon (one of the pioneers of PNI: psychoneuroimmunology) compiled the research in 1993 on long-term survivors of AIDS. This was prior to the breakthrough drugs, when there were no medical solutions for HIV. The four enduring themes he identified were:
–Healthy Self-care (I am responsible for my health and well-being)
– Sense of Perspective (I am going to die eventually, but not tomorrow)
– Sense of Purpose (I am here on this planet to do something of value)
– Healthy Relationships and Social Connectedness (I belong and am loved)
In looking back at these four criteria for health, I see how they can serve us as we all come to terms with our collective diagnosis, as well as the inevitable fear and hopelessness that arise with a terminal illness.
Healthy Self-Care: This is a matter of making choices that are within the realm of my own agency. When I am in the city, I ride my bicycle to get aerobic activity (I live on top of a hill), and driving less is beneficial for the ecosystem of the city. I cook at home and eat well; all of my vegetable scraps are composted and feed my garden. Eating organically is just as much for the health of the land and the water as it is for my body. I recycle and re-use as much as I can to conserve money and materials. My bodily practices of breath, sound, movement, contact, and stillness are sustainable tools for tending to my inner ecosystem and conserving my own energy. My trade-off is using my car to drive every other week to my rural retreat, about three hours away. Being in nature, being close to the earth, shifts my self-perception.
Sense of Perspective: When I am in the wilds, I feel both my insignificance and my vastness. I stand in awe of the power of the planet and am also aware: this is my body! This perspective expands my self-definition and broadens my circle of awareness. An ongoing practice is to go to the ocean at the end of each day for a simple prayer. With arms outstretched as the sun slides into the sea, I say aloud, “Thank you for this day.” This spoken declaration affirms my gratefulness for being alive on this planet