Channeling My Climate Anxiety into Climate Action in 2021
A view into the rural climate dilemma by Calvin Servheen
You might think that the rocky mountain west is big and empty, and in some senses it is, but it’s also a deep source of environmental dispute whose surface the mainstream media only touches. Welcome to the Climate Journal Project blog, my name is Calvin. I’ll be contributing here discussing my experiences with wilderness, wellness, and the American West. I’ll share from a local perspective how climate change is affecting life in some of the most pristine places the developed world still holds.
Born in Montana, I’m a student at Montana State University in Bozeman. In the classroom, my focus is in engineering and social change business. Outside that I also instruct mountain biking and snowsports programs in Big Sky MT and I am an outspoken advocate of public Wilderness. Growing up in Western Montana I have seen the state change drastically in just two decades.
The shadow of climate change looms darkly over the forests and dry plains of Montana and like so many other places, we have dealt with hard changes. Each year, dwindling snowpack, accelerating fire seasons, and increasing pressure on land challenge our connection to this beautiful place. Like all Americans, we must change greatly to truly coexist with our surroundings, and some of us have begun thinking hard about how we can stay sane through the tumultuous times ahead.
I hope to offer a number of different insights through this blog into how you can become more connected to nature in order to stay hopeful and empowered about your climate crisis experience no matter where you live.
We all have our own ways of appreciating nature, of experiencing that smacked in the face, eye watering sense of awe that reminds us of our place in the world, and reconciles our anxieties — it is an experience I call ‘feeling nature’. It doesn’t matter if you feel nature regularly every time you watch the sun dip below the horizon, or when you stand with your face in a sunflower and your feet deep in the loam of your garden, or if you’ve only felt nature a handful of times, maybe in the shade of a coastal rainforest, or caught in an alpine thunderstorm with the rain whipping the rocks and cascading into the dark below you. It doesn’t matter even if you’ve never been moved by the natural world in the way I’m describing. We can all help each other through climate anxiety and environmental grief by feeling nature.
Through no fault of my own, I’ve been lucky enough to feel the natural world often. I’ve spent hundreds of nights shivering under the cold stars. I’ve gotten to ride my mountain bike for a living and think about my relationship to the sport in ways most are not privileged enough to do. I’ve worked in the outdoor industry spending each day in the mountains rain or shine. I’ve even hunted game across sweeping landscapes. From what I’ve seen, feeling nature is a very personal act, it’s a moment of understanding between a person and the natural world that can be elusive. However, no matter who you are, there are a few key ingredients you must experience to come away fulfilled from time in the wild: awe, appreciation of existence value, and diminution of the self. These are the feelings at the core of this blog, and they are key to feeling wellness in the face of climate anxiety. Feeling them is hard even for those of us surrounded by unbroken wilderness.
Montanans, just like other humans, are caught in a climate crisis, a dilemma to balance what we must do to stop climate change and other manifestations of resource overutilization, and what we can do within the economic and social constraints of our lives. Addressing the dissonance between these two areas of human interest, while being part of the solution is what I aim to address here — wellness practices through nature that don’t let us hide from our concerns about the world, but instead remind us why nature is important so we can stay motivated, free of cynicism, and be part of the solution.
In my home state, the connection between happiness and access to the natural world is very clear. It is a pervasive, unspoken truth in our lives, and it is the reason that Montanans fight for conservation so strongly. I believe that even in places where the truth of feeling nature isn’t so widely understood, the same correlation applies. The key to living well, staying motivated, and keeping away climate grief for all of us is to remain connected to nature in the right way.
But what do I mean when I say ‘the right way’? Isn’t it wrong to judge how people commune with the earth? No matter where you live, there are both constructive and ineffective ways to connect yourself to the natural world. The difference between truly feeling and being awed by nature, and owning or conquering it is sometimes subtle, but where we fall on the appreciation scale affects the amount of wellness we can derive from the earth, and the extent to which we end up contributing to environmental problems. In this blog I will show through examples how to create, rediscover, or affirm your own connection to the earth without an anthropocentric mindset by sharing a slice of life in a place where people’s struggle to feel nature defines nearly every moment. By doing this, I hope we can inspire each other to be better connected to what’s really important, so we can derive motivation and wellness from nature even as the global climate crisis rages.
In the coming weeks, I’ll talk about the quiet beauty of rivers that swirl mysteriously and draw the mist out of the air, of mountain peaks glaring in the sun, their aretes streaming with contrails of ice. I will talk about how I deal with my own climate anxiety and environmental grief — the pain of seeing mountain glaciers dwindle and vanish over my lifetime, or waking up to see a column of forest fire bearing down on my wilderness camp. I will even discuss the raging disputes over land management with respect to endangered species and recreation access, and comment on how these disputes influence the climate anxiety of all involved. I will also speak about the people I’ve seen — about the young, powder stomping locals and their relationship with the outdoor industry, the rich landowner who walls off his castle like a medieval fiefdom, and the rancher, descendant of cowboys, who has seen her state change so much in only a few decades.
As I share my experiences, I hope you will share and reflect on your own. The beauty of the natural world can be experienced in the wilds, but also in a rooftop garden, in the smile of someone you love, or in the smallest drop of rain. Feeling nature is a mindset that can be applied by anyone, and I hope as we dive into the wilds of my home, you will explore the natural side of your own, and form your own bond with the beauty that hides in what’s really important to you.
Next time I will talk about outdoor recreation, the most common channel folks in the developed world use to experience nature. We will cover how to approach it, what I’ve learned about its impacts, and why you can do it anywhere — even in the heart of the largest city. I can’t wait to connect with you next time on A Slice of Life in Montana.
