Resilience in the Face of Chaos: Finding New Meaning Amid Despair

As someone who has navigated anxiety throughout my adult life, I want to share my experience of finding meaning amid despair and uncertainty. This article specifically focuses on eco-anxiety, which is particularly relevant for activists and those who are environmentally conscious. The emotional journey from inspiration and activism to feelings of inevitability and fear regarding ecosystem collapse is complicated, especially as the realities of climate change become increasingly evident and as many of us face more complex trauma.

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Activists and community organizers often start their journey with a strong sense of purpose and agency, believing in the power of collective action to counter environmental degradation and societal oppression. This inspiration drives us to organize in the community, promote regenerative practices, and advocate for systemic change, while finding comfort and inspiration in being part of a larger movement, where shared efforts contribute to meaningful progress.

However, as the impacts of climate change become more visible—through worsening weather events and alarming scientific reports—this inspiration can wane into despair. A growing awareness of the crisis’s scale can lead to disappointment in collective action and a sense of helplessness when facing the complex reality of an inevitable disaster. Many experience disillusionment, realizing that despite their best efforts, the forces driving collapse are too powerful, and the political will to enact necessary changes is lacking. This realization can prompt some to withdraw from activism and advocacy, adopting a fatalistic view that collapse is unavoidable or warranted, leading to the belief that change is futile or unattainable.

The psychological impact of this shift can be profound as individuals grapple with the implications of a world facing ecological and societal disruptions while feeling helpless to enact meaningful change. Those of us who once believed in the possibility of mitigating the effects of climate change may now feel deep disappointment and grief over humanity’s inaction.

Addressing eco-anxiety among socially and ecologically minded individuals requires a nuanced approach that recognizes the unique layers of identity and motivation tied to those engaged in collective change. They are often deeply committed to environmental and social issues, driven by values and a sense of responsibility toward future generations. This strong connection can intensify emotional responses to a sense of inaction, making individuals more susceptible to despair when faced with setbacks or a lack of progress.

When an individual’s identity intertwines with their sense of purpose, their mental health can be significantly affected by their ability to effect change. Acknowledging the gravity of the situation is vital. While cultivating internal resilience and promoting constructive action can help some of us navigate these emotional hurdles, engaging in new meaning-making might be necessary for others to reignite a sense of purpose.

The journey from inspiration and empowerment to despair and helplessness in the face of climate change and biodiversity loss reflects broader societal struggles. Recognizing and validating these feelings is crucial for integrating collective grief and finding renewed pathways to live purposefully. My personal story is one of refocusing my attention on resilience amid chaos and despair.

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In the early 1990s, I aligned with deep ecology principles, driven by a profound belief in the intrinsic value of the Earth, its animals, and ecosystems. I dedicated myself to environmental advocacy, often prioritizing nature over humanity and, inevitably, over myself. In my fervor, I developed strong anti-anthropocentrism, anti-technology, and anti-capitalist sentiments, believing human actions were detrimental to the planet.

As a youth leader in environmental initiatives, I struggled with the overwhelming immediacy of the environmental crisis. I directed this sense of urgency by advocating for radical yet practical changes in human behavior and societal structures to achieve ecological balance, seeking a more egalitarian relationship between humanity and nature.

Simultaneously, my early interests in yoga and Eastern philosophies guided me toward embracing compassion, softening my frustration, and allowing me to understand the interconnectedness between humans and nature. I began to see that cultivating genuine connections with people could inspire change more effectively than a judgment-based approach. This evolution led me to combine deep ecology with empathy, understanding, and care for human conditions.

Compassionate ecology felt holistic, recognizing our interconnectedness and emphasizing that we can’t solve problems by removing human elements, as they are part of the system. This perspective added social justice and well-being to my focus. I began communicating my passion for the environment in ways that resonated with others, sharing my story to inspire engagement on their terms and building a sense of agency within my community. I understood that while action is vital, it must be pursued inclusively, allowing a broader range of voices to contribute to addressing social and ecological injustices.

I studied Permaculture, Agroforestry, Holistic Management, Naturopathy, and Ecovillages. These approaches were value-aligned and applicable. I founded the Center for Holistic Ecology in 2003, driven by a sense of necessity to shift culture toward regenerative practices. Each small victory contributed to a larger movement against climate change and ecosystem destruction. While I understood that aspects of collapse were inevitable, I still believed in potential mitigation and restabilization.

However, between 2012 and 2014, I realized the weight of this commitment was becoming too much to bear as the window for mitigating dire outcomes rapidly closed. The focus and intensity of my dedication took a toll on my mental and physical health, leading to burnout—a state that was neither healthy nor productive. I also recognized that my commitment and overwork were unrealistic models for others to follow. My audience sought inspiration and connection, not exhaustion, highlighting a critical realization that lasting change cannot be built on sacrifice. Simultaneously, the ticking clock of increasing chaos became louder around me.

By around 2016, I grappled with the harsh reality that climate change’s detrimental effects were already upon us. The ecosystems I worked to respect and protect suffered exponentially increasing amounts of harm each year, and it felt too late to mitigate or reverse the damage. The inspiration that had motivated me for decades felt depleted and inadequate, slowly giving way to feelings of defeat, resignation, and increasing anxiety.

For me, eco-anxiety manifested as a shifting spectrum of fear, grief, apathy, and disassociation regarding current and future environmental disasters and a growing disappointment in humanity. It also brought about feelings of guilt regarding my newfound sense of inaction and helplessness, leading to moments of depression. I knew I wasn’t alone in this struggle; multiple studies show that eco-anxiety has significantly increased in recent decades. Additionally, a 2021 survey by the Environmental Defense Fund noted that burnout was becoming more prevalent among climate activists, with 76 percent feeling overwhelmed by the crisis’s scale.

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While recovering from burnout, I underwent a grieving process, mourning a lost future of ecological and social balance—a future I once dreamed of but now realized I would likely never witness. I also grieved my identity as a change agent as I felt disconnected from my sense of purpose, which had once felt like my birthright. I began to embrace the likely end of humanity as we know it, leading to a heavy acceptance of our current reality, including a growing awareness of my fragility as I aged.

This realization marked a pivotal shift in my journey, prompting me to seek an approach that emphasized my well-being alongside and often above the pressing need for collective action, a reversal of my former focus. My search for new meaning led me to revisit conscious evolutionary philosophies I had once occasionally critiqued for reinforcing anthropocentric worldviews. Transitioning from a mindset of self-sacrifice to one of self-care was challenging for me, as I had long held a belief that self-centric worldviews contributed to the planet’s destruction.

Yet self-centeredness and self-care are not synonymous. Caring for yourself can be a powerful way to show up for others. While there are valid critiques of mindfulness teachings focusing excessively on self-improvement over societal issues, I recognize the valuable tools they offer, especially in this time when studies indicate that trauma is becoming more prevalent around the world. If we cannot care for our bodies and minds or integrate our trauma, we will struggle to care for the planet. Prioritizing well-being equips us to take action for the world around us, with greater empathy, resilience, and the ability to make a difference.

Unintegrated trauma has significant societal consequences, and studies indicate that its prevalence is rising globally. Although I have understood and taught the concepts of self-care and trauma integration for decades, it was not until 2019—when I faced a series of complex crises that affected me physically—that I truly grasped how trauma, compounded by burnout, impacts a person’s ability to create change. Within just 12 months, I provided hospice care, confronted challenging career choices that influenced my professional identity and financial security, experienced the tragically violent deaths of two loved ones, lost my cat, endured a natural disaster as an EF3 tornado ravaged my city, and suffered a consequential injury that evolved into a health crisis.

Losing my ecosocial career focus and, with it, my sense of purpose as a change agent really dismantled my ability to cope with these other traumatic life events. I felt powerless and purposeless, with nowhere to meaningfully direct my energy. Despite my having prepared for catastrophic scenarios for decades, the pandemic struck when I felt most vulnerable. Since then, I have spent several years healing from and integrating that cumulative trauma while also striving to rediscover a sense of meaning and purpose in light of the world’s current state.

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I began practicing mindfulness moment by moment. I focused on my internal landscape, recognizing the importance of self-care amid the vulnerability and anxiety I felt. Having studied and taught yoga and meditation in the mid-’90s, I began to re-explore practices that cultivate presence and acceptance in the face of uncertainty, prioritizing my mental and physical health while building resilience. Acknowledging my feelings, especially the common and valid experiences of anxiety, was crucial. Allowing myself to express these emotions—through journaling, confiding in friends, or therapy—helped lighten the burden I carried.

Embracing mindfulness and self-compassion became essential for understanding my new physical limitations. Practicing tuning into my nervous system helped me stay present. Grounding myself in the moment and nurturing my well-being cultivated a sense of calm that empowered me to navigate challenges.

Setting realistic goals played a significant role; I focused on small, achievable objectives on my off-grid homestead, like enjoying gardening and composting, which provided a manageable sense of purpose. Each minor victory reminded me that meaningful action was still possible, even if collapse and death were inevitable. I had to embrace and come to terms with the possibility that I might never be able to enact the change I hoped to see in the world. Grieving my identity was a humbling experience, compelling me to confront my original motivations and aspirations while accepting the uncertainty of both my impact and my physical condition. It became a journey of redefining my purpose and finding value in the smaller, yet meaningful daily choices I made, allowing me to nurture a sense of fulfillment.

To protect my mental health and counteract feelings of planetary despair, I limited my exposure to negative news. I avoided getting swept up in issues completely out of my control, while still seeking positive stories that highlighted progress, however minor, within ecosocial movements, alongside celebrating milestones in my healing.

Personal reflection was vital in reigniting my sense of purpose, even when the larger picture seemed bleak. As I shifted my focus to internal change, I recognized that cultivating presence, gratitude, and a connection to the immediacy of the natural world nurtured a more meaningful outlook. Spending time in the woods was a source of solace as I recuperated. Forgiveness and self-compassion were significant in my journey—learning to observe, allow, release, and focus on growth

My biggest lesson in dealing with anxiety has been the power of accepting uncertainty, while remaining committed to showing up. Embracing the unknown has been liberating; I cannot control most outcomes in life. I shifted my focus to what I could do in the present moment, encouraging an adaptive mindset essential for navigating feelings of anxiety and releasing what is out of my control in the world around me. Accepting my thoughts and feelings without judgment and shifting my internal stories became important practices. I learned to allow complex emotions to exist rather than trying to suppress or solve them. This acceptance helped me develop a more open-minded approach, enabling me to respond to life’s challenges more calmly and with less attachment to the outcomes.

I can now acknowledge that the efforts I make in my daily life—whether through work, community engagement, advocacy, or personal actions at home—can still feel meaningful and purposeful while simultaneously recognizing that we have surpassed the tipping point of environmental stability. This contradiction highlights the shared struggle to find hope and purpose in our actions while grappling with the overwhelming challenges posed by a changing planet.

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Attachment to mitigating the destruction of the world around me turned out to be more of a burden than I could carry. Instead, I’m now motivated to first and foremost do my best to stay centered and value-aligned, and then to assist others in doing the same. To help people understand our shared plight and find peace amid our collective chaos. To face likely near-term extinction with open eyes and a loving heart. To help people learn to be present, regulate their nervous systems, and prepare themselves, their families, and communities for inevitable change.

Other aspects of resilience remain vital, including advocacy for regenerative living and cultivating strong social networks to meet our needs for a fulfilling life and stay prepared for crises. Recognizing our ability to adapt is crucial—not just for mitigating collapse but for navigating realities. Agility allows us to respond effectively to changing circumstances and pivot strategies as needed, ensuring a proactive mindset in an evolving environment.

Educating ourselves about the various dimensions of crises—environmental, social, and economic—enables us to approach challenges with an informed mindset. Developing self-reliance skills is still critical for autonomy and local resiliency, while honing interpersonal skills such as conflict resolution enhances community collaboration and effective problem solving. Again, no matter the endgame or collapse scenario, these are all valuable and important skills to cultivate, share, and collectively practice to do our best at living in difficult and uncertain times.

Collaborating with local organizations on emergency response, food security, or mental health support leads to productive action in the here and now and can help us sustain ourselves during crises. Building networks with like-minded individuals generates a sense of belonging and enhances our capacity to face uncertainties.

Disaster preparedness is a foundational aspect of this work, emphasizing emergency plans and readiness training. These actions empower individuals and communities, equipping us to respond effectively to collapse-related events with a sense of security.

Through this winding path, I’ve come to understand that addressing eco-anxiety and burnout requires a holistic trauma-informed approach that intertwines personal growth with collective action. I’ve had to rethink my motivations and the ways I seek meaningful engagement. Your journey may mirror parts of mine or be entirely different. Regardless of how you experience eco-anxiety, I encourage you to share your story, engage in important conversations, and explore new relationships and approaches that can help you and your communities find meaning amid the collective trauma, grief, and despair many of us feel.

Together, we can still create change, even if it’s just for this moment. That’s enough reason for now.

Jennifer Jaylyn Morgan resides in an intentional off-grid community in Tennessee, US. She is the President of Gaia U International (gaiauniversity.org), which offers a holistic, interdisciplinary model that integrates trauma-informed critical thinking, community engagement, and design within regenerative education. Gaia U empowers students to navigate complex issues by emphasizing mentorship and collaboration within communities. To enroll in Gaia U’s programs, please contact info@gaiau.org.