Connecting in the Climate Crisis

I exist in an amalgam of interconnected beings. My body holds an interwoven tapestry of cells, equal parts human and microbe. My breath relies on the gifts of plants, photosynthesis and respiration in mutual exchange. I am part of the kaleidoscope of life, this extraordinary reciprocal system. But centuries of hubris and denial of this interdependence have brought us to the brink of ecological collapse, as we dominate and plunder without regard for harm. I want to believe we’ll repair this rupture; I’m an analyst, after all. Can relationality move us forward?

I struggle with an amalgam of fluctuating self-states. One part of my psyche clings to an omnipotent sense of control, believing that if I just avert my eyes, all will continue to be well. Another part peeks out from behind the wall of disavowal when I glimpse skeletons of withered pine trees in previously- green forests, beacons of harm and alarm for this

warming world. Another part marches directly into the dizzying reality of the crisis, awash in terror, guilt, hopelessness, and despair. I know something about facing painful emotions. I’m an analyst, after all. I begin to emerge from disavowal.

I enter an amalgam of concerned psychoanalysts. As I think about ways to help in the environmental arena, I discover analytic colleagues who want to similarly engage. My first climate partner* and I develop a course on Ecopsychoanalysis, combing the depths of theory for intellectual reckoning, unearthing new layers of our devastating feelings along the way. We join hands as we wade through the fields of our grief, relational connection as the container. We know something about containment. We are analysts, after all. With renewed capacity, we meet regularly with groups of colleagues for ongoing learning, emotional processing, and solidarity. Our circle of climate psychology grows.

I hold an amalgam of disorienting emotions. In my clinical work, desperate Cassandras in the throes of climate distress arrive in my consul