Vertigo
When it feels like it's all spinning and there's nothing to hold on to
The bad news is that you’re falling through the air, nothing to hang on to, no parachute. The good news is that there is no ground. Chögyam Trungpa
Two weeks ago I turned over in bed to turn off my alarm clock and the room started to spin. If I hadn’t already been lying down I would have fallen over. I knew it was vertigo, because my Dad suffers from it and I had been warned I might develop it because of some inner ear damage I had a few years back. I’m managing it. I’m a bit nauseated, a bit dizzy and feeling a little anxious, but I’m sure I’ll make it through. However, it occurred to me that vertigo is a really apt metaphor for the way many of us are feeling about the world these days.
I know I’m not alone in feeling like everything that I could count on in the world beyond my own household has fallen apart. For example, in the good old days, people didn’t get their news from TikTok and there was a consensus reality. People always disagreed about what the facts meant, but they at least believed in facts…and science, and education and law. It really feels now as if there is nothing safe, nothing reliable, nothing stable, and no ethical framework (beyond economic benefit) behind the decisions our elected representatives are making. I appreciate that I’m guilty of wanting to return to a world that doesn’t exist anymore, or maybe never did…but right now it feels like we’re all living in Alice’s Wonderland.
But one could argue the state of things is the symptom rather than the disease. I think the disease has more to do with the unquestioned dogma of globalized corporate capitalism which prioritizes profit above all other values. This worldview presumes that growth can be infinite (in a finite world), workers are disposable, and insatiable consumption is a “good,” even though our nature as humans is never to be satisfied. And hence, wealthy shareholders and vested interests hold far more sway than those of us fighting for nature, human health and thriving, equity and fairness. People treat these ideas (e.g. economic growth must meet a given percentage) like a religion. And it’s a religion where we assume that if we just have enough money we will be safe, healthy and whole. We’ll have something we can hang on to.
Except that we won’t. As our destructive ways ravage our health, our natural world and our hope for a predictable future, I think our best hope is to become aware of these dominant and largely invisible attitudinal lenses that we’re wearing. When we look at land and can only see it in terms of potential economic gain, we are blind to the realities of ecology, interdependence and the long term prospects of a safe and enjoyable life for our children.
But how to escape the dogma? And how to stay sane when it seems clear that those who seek wealth and power will choose profit over what is morally and biologically beneficial at every opportunity.
I’m still, always, seeking answers to these questions. I think what will be required is a growing group of people who are willing and able to swim against the current. That might require some training and a great deal of introspection. It also requires rest, finding moments of joy, and friendship along the path. It requires being able to be with grief and disappointment, and the ability to lose time after time and not give up. It requires being a misfit in many ways, seeking out other misfits who can see that no amount of money can create a bird, or resurrect the species we’ve destroyed. And when things are really spinning it requires some time to just lay down. Breathe. Take a break.
Joanna Macy, a long time eco-activist and writer who is now in her nineties. suggests a paradigm she calls “Work that Reconnects.” Her recommendations are:
Start from gratitude, to quiet our anxieties and ground us in naming the things we love about being alive, in this moment, on this planet.
Honor our pain, by acknowledging it with others and recognizing we are not alone.
See with new eyes: being patient and open-minded so that we can tap into creativity, hope and possibility.
Going forth: moving into action according to our situations, gifts and limitations.
And finally, she suggests these five vows:
I vow to myself and to each of you:
To commit myself daily to the healing of our world and the welfare of all beings.
To live on earth more lightly and less violently in the food, products, and energy I consume.
To draw strength and guidance from the living earth, the ancestors, the future beings, and my brothers and sisters of all species.
To support others in their work for the world and to ask for help when I feel the need.
To pursue a daily spiritual practice that clarifies my mind, strengthens my heart, and supports me in observing these vows.
Beyond this, I think it’s helpful to come back to the idea that there is no ground. The future is not yet written. There is no certainty, nor can there ever be. We might turn things around. We might not. But there is some relief to be found in not knowing. Vertigo is disorienting. It’s unpleasant. But it’s not fatal and it usually goes away in time. Relaxing into it might just be the best advice—letting go of the tightness of “how things should be” if we’re going to have the energy to move forward to “how things could be.”
Weekly News Digest - “The Blowhole”
Here’s an interesting post from our friends at Environmental Defense: It’s a running list of Doug Ford’s attacks on the environment in Ontario (because there have been so many, it’s really hard to stay on top of them all). https://environmentaldefence.ca/attacks-on-the-environment/
And a new initiative from the Rescue Lake Simcoe Coalition website to reduce salt pollution.
And an appeal from UN Chief Antonio Guterres to ban fossil fuel advertising.
And just for fun:
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