I’ve noticed since the storm, I have felt more sensitive to the weather. I find myself wincing or feeling a bit off on really windy days. That rain makes me feel tired, sometimes a sunny cool day even feels off. Our bodies were deeply impacted by this event. Maybe for you, it’s not the weather, maybe it’s the debris, maybe it’s the towns that were irrevocably changed, the natural spaces forever changed, the loss of property and home, or the loss of a loved one.
None of us are alone in our incredibly human responses to an unexpected and unimagined change. Climate Anxiety or eco-grief, is a common feeling now. The rivers, streams, and mountains that we call home shifted, they became something that not only can offer relief and respite through recreation but something that became scary, fast, unpredictable, and undiscerning in their paths of destruction as trees let go of the mountainsides, whole slopes shifted sliding down, and the water became deadly. If you were on social media, you might have watched video after video of the destruction of our home.
This again is a normal response. However, the long-term effects of Helene have heavily impacted many of our nervous systems. Areas, like homes, parks, trails, and rivers, that were viewed as safe and familiar, lost shape from the impacts of trees, rising water, or landslides, the loss of water and power, the trails and parks destroyed, and the rivers became destroyers. If you are like me, it was hard to look away from those images. I wanted to know what was happening, and what area was hurt, and I wanted to feel connected to the news.
I trained my brain to want to see these videos, that watching more would help me understand the devastation better and if I understood better, I’d be okay. In actuality, this made the stress worse. Our brains take in a lot of information every day, and we when add emails, social media, and text messages to the already immense information of just existing–it becomes easy to get overwhelmed. At the heart of this habit of watching videos over and over, was a fear that things were really out of my control and that I could do nothing to impact it. Well, that fear was well- founded in part, I could do nothing to make the water recede, make the homes and communities not have to experience this, but I could do some things… It started by putting down my phone or limiting the amount of “hurricane time” I could have to specific information and resource sharing. It started when my friends and neighbors and I checked in on each other, fed each other, and laughed and cried together. Then it moved to collective action, whether volunteering for wellness checks, conducting mental health first aid, or helping move muck, debris, and mud, action in and with the community is what helped the most.
This is true all the time, not just in the wake of natural disasters. Community engagement, collective action, and finding joy in community are critical components of our overall well-being. This doesn’t mean you need 20+ plus friends you hang out with every single day or can’t enjoy or even need your alone time, but rather intentional time spent with other people centered around shared enjoyment, action, or food. The silver lining of the storm was that walls that are usually up, both physical and emotional, were down. We could all gather and see each other, and share in our hurt, grief, and moments of joy. In the moments of togetherness, I found a sense of belonging, support, and purpose that helped tremendously to feel like I, we, could begin to recover. Overall, we know that our mental health is positively impacted by being in a community and have even seen that in a famous study, rats preferred community to heroin.
Community belonging is linked to stronger feelings of mental well-being and an increased ability to manage stressors that can cause anxiety or depression. Too often when we feel stressed, lonely, or overwhelmed, we turn away from each other–maybe out of shame, not wanting to burden each other, or any number of reasons. However, in the wake of the storm, we had to rely on each other to make it through, and we were able to approach each other with a shared sense of humanity. This is hard to do right now for a lot of reasons (the ongoing genocide and the removal of basic human rights for one) but does not mitigate our need for community. So how do you find community or how does one strengthen it?
A few spaces to start are: what are you interested in and what are your values?
Interests: what do you enjoy doing? Chances are, someone else enjoys it too! A quick internet search could turn up a meet-up or craft night, a sports league. A shared interest or activity can help lower social pressure to go to a meet up.
Values: what is important to you in the world? Chances are, it is important to someone else too! Volunteering time, being in service, engaging with an affinity or even a faith community can bring you into social spaces that help you connect with others who may hold the same values as you.
The important thing to remember is that connection and community helps us heal from past hurts but it also asks us to risk being hurt again. Therapy can be a really helpful tool and growth certainly happens in the session, however, I think therapy session insights become moments of growth and healing when we apply them to how we exist in the community. It can be really hard to connect and engage in the community, a therapist, like myself or many others, can help to clarify what you value, practice skills to manage anxiety or fear, and explore what hurts are maybe keeping you from experiencing the community you deserve. If this resonates with you, share it with a member of your community. If this sounds like something you want to experience, I would encourage you to try and maybe seek out some support from a therapist. Overall, I feel and have experienced in community that–to kinda quote one of my favorite historical mystics, Julian of Norwich (I have many of all different faith backgrounds)–all manner of things can be well and held.