What will remain?

What will survive? What will our planet look like after we are gone?  What will it look like in twenty years? In just ten years? How has it changed already?

We are bombarded by news articles about dying species of plants and animals. How do you manage your angst about the demise of our earth as we have known it?  How do you manage your grief related to climate change?

Do you go on long walks in nature and focus on what’s still here, what’s still good? Do you donate funds to organizations that are working to slow down our planet’s destruction? Or do you look away from this crisis? Is it too challenging to sit with?

There are no right answers here.  These are questions we all ask.

I am writing from Costa Rica, a place rich with biodiversity and beauty. I am privileged to be here now.  But I can’t help thinking about the changes in bird species, the effects of climate change on what lives and dies, who migrates and doesn’t, and the changes in plant life.  How do we hold joy for what is, for what we can see and hear and feel, while knowing the truth of how rapidly it is all changing, and how some of it is dying?

What will remain when we are gone? How do we hold hope for our planet while we are alive?