#maeec

When Kathleen Moore introduced me to the power of moral affirmation in her book Great Tide Rising (2016), a light bulb went off. She described the morality of affirmation to be a “soaring invitation to affirm what you believe is good and just and beautiful and right, and to align your life to those values.” This differs from the morality of prohibition in that it does not push one’s morals and beliefs onto another.

My values are my principles and standards of behaviour; they define what is important to me in life. My morals are my beliefs concerning what is and is not acceptable behaviour, and they motivate me to behave in a way that supports my true values. I strive to diminish my own negative views and judgement towards others who have different values and morals through open dialogue.

I value happiness and a huge part of my happiness is linked to a healthy environment. I therefor value a healthy environment and my moral views deem respect for the environment as right, and disrespect as wrong. I dream of a world of happiness and respect for all life on Earth.

Throughout my life, I have struggled as an environmental communicator. I’ve grown from being a moralizer to a pontificator, and I am more recently practicing environmental discourse as a witness. As I first began to recognize that the health of our fragile planet was in decline, I attempted to change the behaviour of those around me by pushing my beliefs onto them without offering any reason. This is moralizing, and as Moore states it, nobody likes it.

As my understanding of the evident decline in environmental health enhanced, I began to tell people what to believe and offered reasons of why they should change. This is pontification, and to my surprise, still no change. This became quite frustrating over time. I was guilty of believing that if only others knew what I knew, they’d act as I act. A witness, on the other hand, simply states what their personal beliefs are without telling people what they should believe.

I have learned that telling people what to think and what to believe can be quite repelling. A witness can however open the door to respectful dialogue, listening and a change of beliefs through moral reasoning (which combines moral affirmation with reason).

Reflecting on what I’ve learned in the first MAEEC residency, I feel like I owe nature another thank you. This time, for something I only just discovered: nature was my best friend growing up.

The past few weeks have uncovered childhood memories that I completely forgot about. Our time outside with Enid Elliot learning about outdoor kindergarten and our silent walk learning about interspecies communication especially helped me realize that, even though I spent a lot of time wandering by myself as a child, I was never alone.

I spent a lot of time hanging out with trees. During one particular summer, I’d walk to the same willow tree almost daily with my pencil and journal. I have no memory of what it was I actually wrote inside the journal, but if I could guess, it was probably full of questions. I loved sitting under that willow tree, and I’d give anything to read that journal.

Another great memory that arose during this time of reflection, is catching flying maple seeds as they helicoptered down from the sky. I used to call them “nature mail” and I truly believed that each one I caught was deliberately sent for me. Even though the pods were always filled with seeds, I’d come up with some new imaginative idea of what was inside each one, where it came from and who it was from. While writing this blog, I discovered an interesting fact about maple seeds from a 2009 Live Science article:

“A swirling maple seed generates a tornado-like vortex that sits atop the front leading edge as the ‘helicopter' spins slowly to the ground. This leading edge vortex lowers the air pressure over the upper surface of the maple seed, effectively sucking the wing upward to oppose gravity. The mechanism is remarkably similar to the trick employed by insects, bats, and hummingbirds when they swing their wings back and forth to hover.”

I’ve always had an inquisitive mind. In a recent conversation, I mentioned that my idea of heaven is getting answers to the endless amount of questions I have. One of the first questions I asked myself when recently introduced to sense of place is “does sense of place mean feeling like a kid again?” Upon spending a few weeks immersed in nature unleashing my creativity and imagination, I certainly did start to feel like a kid again. I spent time collecting rocks and seashells at Botanical Beach, looking for shapes and patterns in cloud formations, and observing various insects and other species as they go about their day.

I can see the snow-capped mountains, smell the ocean air and feel the cool summer breeze upon my skin. Breathing deeply, the sound of squealing streetcars and busy morning traffic gets louder and louder. I desperately try to hang on to the image of the Pacific Coast but it slowly fades as my eyes begin to open. It’s time to get ready for work.

Re-entry has been rough. My ears won’t stop ringing, and I can barely complete a single thought. It’s another extremely hot day in Toronto. I’m trying to process the overwhelming and positively life altering experience I just endured while juggling what feels like about four million things. Just a few days ago, I was under the giant willow tree surrounded by the most compassionate and caring individuals.

The entire three week experience in the first MAEEC residency was emotional to say the least, but the reciprocity ring really got to me and I can’t seem to let it go. Perhaps I should have read the ‘What is the Reciprocity Ring’ article by Daniel J. Tomasulo before class started so I knew what was coming. According to the article, the purpose of the reciprocity ring was to ask the group for something important for me in my personal or professional life. When asked to write down three things I’d like to request, I broke out in tears.

I had only a few moments to think deeply about what I wanted or needed. All I could think about was how in a blink of an eye I’d be back in the concrete city with a racing mind thinking did that really just happen? What I wanted was to stay under that willow tree forever. I wanted time to heal and a place to call home.

The reciprocity ring is supposed to build community and strengthen the network of relationships among participants, but I felt so alone. The article said we we would learn solutions to our personal issues, but I still don’t have a clue what they might be. During the three weeks on campus, my heart was turned inside out and I realized that I have some major healing to do. I have spent an entire lifetime hiding from the dark and dismal places that exist deep inside my soul.

The activity took place immediately after our class had the pleasure of listening to Paul Allison brilliantly speak about the power of nature to assist with self healing. How am I going to heal upon returning to my chaotic life at home, is what I was thinking. The willow tree felt more like home than the cookie cutter house in the busy subdivision where I reside.

When I think about the environment I think about all of the people trying to protect it. I think about how it can shine a light on the greatness of humanity and bring out the very bad in others. The environment is powerful, resilient, kind and nurturing. It is ever-changing and I think about how it challenges people to think creatively, work together and undergo a morality check. I find hope in the positive changes that occur from this type of collaborative thinking. The Paris Agreement, for instance, was signed by 174 countries on Earth Day this year and is considered by some to be the world’s greatest diplomatic success. The world is also on track to meet the United Nations’ 2020 goal of 10% ocean coverage of marine protected areas. Just a few years ago, these seemed like impossible milestones. There are many similar success stories that illustrate that our actions can, and in fact are, making a difference. It wouldn’t hurt for everyone to take a step back, recognize all the positive changes occurring, and celebrate them.

The environment is helping us become better versions of ourselves. I hope that shifting the narrative beyond doom and gloom will continue to inspire others to recognize the value healthy ecosystems. I have faith that collectively celebrating positive change will help others reach moral affirmation by making a self commitment to align their behaviour in favour of their own personal values. This will not be easy. Pathways and solutions should be an integral part of the changing narrative to help support such a behavioural shift.

Everyone wants to feel happy. In a world that demands so much of us, how can we make that easier for ourselves? As songwriter Johnny Mercer wrote in 1944, You’ve got to:

“Accentuate the positive, 

eliminate the negative,

latch onto the affirmative,

don’t mess with Mr. In-Between.”

Who is Mr. In-Between? He is a rollercoaster of emotions. He means well, but he puts you down rather than lift you up. He puts the weight of the world on your shoulders and can make you feel hopeless. Who would want to mess with that?

There are many ‘Mr. In-Betweens’ trying to save the planet using doom and gloom and I can’t help but wonder about how different the narrative around environmental issues might be had communicators taken Johnny Mercer and The Pied Pipers’ advice long ago. Would climate change facts still be denied?

In a 2014 article on Scientific American, Tanya Lewis describes how “emotions can be contagious, even without direct interaction or nonverbal cues.” With this in mind, one can understand how the outpour of negatively framed environmental messaging hasn’t exactly attracted a wave of positive change.

“You’ve gotta... 

Spread joy to the maximum,

bring gloom down to the minimum...”

Solutions-based journalism about environmental issues with deep consideration of emotions, values, contexts and cultural worldview is shifting the global environmental narrative to foster hope and alleviate despair. As David Bornstein wrote:

“We know from behavioral science that information about a problem alone is rarely sufficient to generate corrective action. People need to know what they can do ― and how. That doesn’t mean including a little “good news” now and then, but regularly presenting people with innovative ideas and realistic pathways and possibilities that remain outside their view frame” (New York Times, 2011).

I met a new friend on Monday as part of an ecopsychology activity. This friend has no name or opinions, but it does have a lot of stories. 

What is ecopsychology? Hilary Leighton so eloquently described it as “world soul knowing” when she introduced the 2016 Master of Arts in Environmental Education and Communication cohort to the term.

It involves discovering your ecological identity through personal exploration of the natural world, thereby expanding the emotional connection between people and the planet. It offers a pathway for individuals to develop sustainable lifestyles and rekindle an intrinsic compassion for all living species. As outlined in Mitchell Thomashow’s Ecological Identity book, this type of personal reflection is necessary grounding for the challenges facing environmentalists.

“We’ve forgotten how to people” Hilary stated. She described the intrinsic value of spending 40-60 minutes sitting with nature each week to restore our human-nature connection. To demonstrate the effectiveness of this practice, we each immersed ourselves among the beautiful trees at Royal Roads University.

We were encouraged to find a tree, ask questions and deeply listen. I walked towards the water, following the sound of a nearby woodpecker. When I found the woodpecker, I stopped to observe for a few moments and when I turned around, I discovered what I now consider to be a tall, dark and handsome tree.

I was completely mesmerized by this tree, and said aloud “who are you?” Initially, this whole experience was quite bizarre to me. I deeply pondered what it’s life was like; how old it was, what stories it had and what it was doing. It was just treein’. Although it had no voice, I was undoubtedly communicating with with this tree. It was telling me not to worry. I couldn’t believe it; I connected more with my new tree friend in twenty minutes than I had with anyone before.

Deepening your connection with nature can improve your interpersonal relationships and emotional wellbeing, sharpen your senses and help you cultivate new skills. Find a tree and spend some time getting to know it. Ask it questions, take time to listen. You might be surprised what it will share with you.