Making a pledge is risky. With failure a possibility, fear can hold us back from committing to something we really believe in. We might doubt our own ability to carry out what we have promised or feel anxious of events outside of our control impacting our plans.
At the beginning of the year, I pledged to spend more time in nature than at my desk; more time taking action on climate change and the environment and less time behind a computer screen, supporting organisations to carry out their work in often far-away places. It wasn’t that I didn’t believe in or enjoy the work I was doing, more that a voice inside had been telling me I needed to do more, I needed to be more vital to my local community and environment and my body was telling me that I wasn’t supposed to be spending full days sitting at my desk. I was in pain and movement had become my medicine.
Commitment would mean a significant reduction in income, at least temporarily, and the risk that I wouldn’t be able to see the year through. But I put my faith in taking steps in the right direction and I made the leap, thinking, “who knows what will happen?”... And who did?
Events beyond our individual control have suddenly and radically changed the way we live and while the Covid 19 pandemic has taken at least 180,000 lives globally to date, thousands of families are grieving the loss of their loved ones or watching them suffer and key workers are putting their own lives at risk to support us all, that life has changed is something that everyone, everywhere shares.
But, while I have wavered in my understanding of how to carry out my own personal promise, my commitment has only strengthened. I have continued my walks by the sea, making efforts to notice details of nature: the changing energy of the tides, young spring buds blossoming into strong dark leafage; I throw my window open every morning to enliven my senses with birdsong; I tend my garden more often and with greater interest. And I have been thinking about what positive action we can take in the wake of the current pandemic.
It is clear that this global super-virus was predicted by scientists, based on evidence of epidemics gone past[1]. The primary cause is proximity: of wild animals to each other and humans, through loss of habitat and biodiversity; and of humans, to each other, through the machinations of globalisation. But as the pandemic has progressed, in terms of perceived threat and severity of impact on our lives, we have watched a beautiful realisation emerge: how precious the natural world is to us all.
While the government slogan is “stay at home”, social media is flooded with images and sounds of the great outdoors. For those who can still venture out for an hour a day, we are treasuring the tiniest details we encounter – the first blossom on a tree, morning birdsong, seedlings springing into life. These most simple experiences are held aloft, not in the boastful way that social media posts are sometimes criticised for; but shared for the most vulnerable who cannot venture out and those without easy access to green and natural spaces.
We have also delighted in wildlife invading our urban spaces during lockdown: the wild goats who rampaged through a Welsh town, Sika deer crossing city streets and walking in subways in Japan and racoons playing in the surf of a seaside town in Mexico. And, while dolphins are often spotted in Dorset waters, a video taken by a local fisherman, showing a pod playing just off Bournemouth beach felt like a show of solidarity from our marine friends during this challenging time.
It seems safe to say that when we are forced to separate from each other and many of the obligations of an industrious capitalist life are stripped away, we instinctively recognise the importance of our connection to nature. And while, just weeks ago, the line taken by industry everywhere, that we couldn’t just stop our way of life to tackle the global climate emergency was an idea that we all swallowed to a greater or lesser extent, now it is clear that it is possible to do just that when a crisis calls for it. And while, tragically, many lives have been lost to this horrible disease and it is likely that we will lose a great deal more, for many people, the limitations imposed on normal day to day activity has revealed unexpected joys in a simplified existence.
I am more grateful than ever for living within walking distance to the beach, which brings me peace and space to think, to recharge, to put my body to the test with a good run and also for our garden, where I can step out to be lulled by birdsong and enveloped in new growth. And I think of other people who are not so fortunate. A 2018 report by Fields in Trust showed that 2.6 million people in the UK live more than 10-minute walk from a green space and the issue is most pressing in poorer areas. I feel sure that this crisis will lead to societies placing greater value on access to open space and to spaces to plant and harvest. My hope is that this re-valuing will not only be revealed in property prices but be reflected in a greater public interest in urban planning and conservation.
My dream for the future is that every household has access to an outside space with the potential to garden, whether it be shared, communal or private and an open green space within walking distance; and that we factor wildlife corridors into urban planning so that species can move freely around enlarged habitats. Achieving this would necessitate something of a face-lift for most towns and cities, which might at first seem an impossible feat. But great societal change is possible when people come together in solidarity. History shows that “impossible” is often a mere subjective judgement and events beyond our control can throw us into a radically different way of life, to which, we always adapt. Today, the unimaginable has become our reality.
We know that there are many ways to help create a better future for our planet and we can all make small impactful changes in our own lives, but political will is essential to achieving the necessary revolutionary shift to turn the tide on climate change. It is clear that a new normal will be established as we emerge from this global crisis and an unprecedented opportunity exists to pressure governments, locally, nationally and globally, to shape a future where we live more in tune with nature and in full recognition that economies are not separable from health and environment.
So my pledge remains unchanged, but my plans for action have evolved. My time in nature is my fuel and my reality check and as the lockdown lifts, I will be hands-on in conservation efforts, but I will also use this gift of time to compile and share contact details of local, national and global decision makers and to join and share campaigns on conservation and climate change. In the words of Naomi Klein, The task is clear: to create a culture of caretaking in which no one and nowhere is thrown away, in which the inherent value of people and all life is foundational.
[1] A brilliant overview on this is The End of the Epidemics by Dr Jonathan Quick
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