We’re two years into the coronavirus pandemic. Or are we two weeks into the post-pandemic? Sometimes it’s hard to keep track. Since last fall I’ve been hearing that we’re in or will soon enter a post-pandemic phase of life. But then a new variant comes along. Delta. Omicron. Son-of-Omicron. Deltacron!
It’s like we’re watching one of those zombie movies and the producers ran out of good ideas. “Let’s do zombies!” “Yea, but zombies have been done. Let’s do new zombies that are slightly less terrible but still really bad!” “How about if we combine normal zombies, better zombies, and, say, vampires!?”
Toss in a wildfire hellscape or two, followed immediately by a bomb-cyclone and immediate flooding, and you’d have life today. Oh, and add the threat of a global nuclear war – why not?
These are stressful times
As is so often the case, sometimes the most important step we can take for our well-being is to notice that something is wrong. It might feel like it’s just inside our head. But countless psychologists, meditation teachers, and Buddhist and other religious leaders have also acknowledged that these are especially difficult times. Many of my own dear friends and teachers, generally the most well-adjusted and resilient people I know, are struggling.
The trick is to be able to note that it is a stressful period without “sinking in” to the stress. We can sink in by literally sinking into a sofa in front of a 24-hour news feed or by “doom-scrolling” our social media. We don’t need this. We don’t benefit from a detailed blow-by-blow of most evolving news stories.
We have evolved to witness and live locally
We evolved, however, to believe that we need to know what’s going on. In the past, we could only get this kind of detailed news if and when the events were nearby. So if you were hearing about a fast-spreading wildfire, it would make sense for your fight, flight, or freeze response to kick into high gear. News of danger immediately triggers the amygdala, which signals stress hormones and readies the body for experiencing that danger.
There’s a reason we might notice our heart pounding after simply reading a story about the war in Ukraine, or seeing people fleeing floods or wildfires around the world. It is only in the last 100 years that we have developed the technology to instantly bring those images to our eyes. And only in the last 20 years have these become a constant and almost inescapable aspect of life.
Returning to the local
After recognizing that these are stressful times and that much of that stress is, for now and for most of us, far away, we can do the heavy lifting that mindfulness trains us for: letting go.
Let go of war news. Let go of climate disasters. Let go of whatever is literally more than fifty miles away. My wife and I often remark about how lucky we are to live in Missoula, Montana. This town is, in general, a peaceful oasis. And it is small enough that many of us as individuals can work for positive change where needed.
For my wife, local begins right in the kitchen, where she is starting a variety of vegetables to be transplanted to the garden next month. It spreads out from there to her workplace, a non-profit organization that welcomes immigrants and refugees to our community. For me, it has been slowly but surely lowering our climate footprint, first installing solar panels on our home, and then adding a high-efficiency heat pump to replace a gas stove, and most recently purchasing a Prius to serve as our main around-town vehicle.
None of this is earth-shattering in its reach. None of it will stop the war or climate change. But these are small actions we can take to build a better environment for ourselves and those around us. Both of us have done the work of “thinking globally.”
My wife has studied food systems around the world and knows directly that the true cost of much of what we eat is enormous. Much of it is coated in chemicals that hurt beneficial insects and cultivated in ways that destroy animal habitats and offers little to workers on the ground or small, responsible farm and ranch owners. So planting a bountiful garden and stepping out of that system just a little bit helps.
Let Me Add
And I have studied climate change as a philosophy and religious studies scholar for nearly 20 years. Scientists like NASA’s James Hansen have been sounding the alarm since the 1970s. However, the changes have been so small and incremental and the disasters so spread out that most warnings have been ignored. So now that I’m entering middle-class life, I’m using as much of my privilege and income that I can to reduce our family’s carbon footprint and educate others on what they can do.
Meanwhile, we both work to ensure a safe and healthy life for our toddler. And friends around us each have their own ways of acting locally to maintain emotional stability in these trying times.
No doubt you will have things you can do. Reach out to a community group or church. Contact local officials about an issue affecting you and your neighbors. Visit your local farmer’s market. Clean up trash along a beach or trails. Ride your bike instead of taking the car on that next trip.
All of these simple acts return us to a calm and steady baseline of thought and action. We know the roller-coaster is still there. The news feed and social media don’t go away. And we can check in with them at allotted times if we desire. But we do so knowing the effect they have and the tools we have to counteract the roller coaster when it gets overwhelming.
Justin Whitaker, Ph.D., holds a doctorate in Buddhist ethics from the University of London. He has given lectures, and taught Buddhist studies and Philosophy at Oxford University, the University of Hong Kong, the University of Montana, and at Antioch University’s intensive study-abroad program in India. A certified meditation teacher, he is a regular contributor to Patheos.com, and Senior Correspondent for Buddhistdoor Global. He lives in Missoula with his family.