I’ve been longing, for at least a decade, to fall wildly in love with life again.
It’s not that I’ve entirely lost connection to my love of life. Not by a long shot.
It has, however, too often been overshadowed by the impact of events in our world. Anger at the growing cruelty, greed, and injustice. Heartbreak over the multiplying islands of suffering. Worry about what it all means for the future. Grief over what has already been lost: in nature, community, and the principles of equality.
And perhaps above all, my love of life has been overshadowed by a deep feeling of inadequacy about my capacity to do enough—or much—about what is happening.
All this, I know, places me in a very privileged category. What has caused me distress is the emotional impact of what is unfolding in our larger world, not direct physical, legal, or financial impacts that are, for millions, a matter of survival.
When the Heaviness of the World Weighs Us Down
Yet, what happens when we—by which I mean those outside war zones and most in a position to make a difference—lose our light in dark times? What is the impact on our lives, our children’s lives, and our work on behalf of the health and well-being of the world?
The unfortunate truth is that we lose our capacity for clarity, grounding, authentic hopefulness, a sense of possibility, and the belief that we can make a difference—all qualities needed to drive positive change.
This is not, of course, to say that we can or should paper over our anger, heartbreak, or worry. That would be unrealistic and unwise. They are natural feelings in the face of what we are witnessing at this strange time in history.
And yet, to allow our vitality to be crushed by the heaviness of the world is also unwise and unhelpful.
Finding Something Truly Big Enough to Counter the Darkness and Depletion
This is one reason I have an ever-growing conviction that it is vital to embrace and strengthen our love of life right now—right amid all the messiness and tragedies of this moment. It is vital not only for us as individuals but for organizations doing critical mission-driven work.
The Chronicle of Philanthropy reported last week that nearly 90 percent of nonprofit leaders are worried about burnout. Given the torrent of challenges today, this is not surprising. Still, nearly 90 percent is extraordinary, especially when one considers what burnout leads to.
There are, of course, the direct financial costs. Employee disengagement, overextension, ineffectiveness, and burnout cost employers $3,999 to $10,824 per employee per year, according to a study published last year in the American Journal of Preventive Medicine.
There are also the added impacts on people and the missions themselves, given that those of us who are burned out or at risk of burnout are not functioning at full capacity—and human capacity is the most basic need we have in the face of today’s many towering challenges.
A Container to Hold and Sustain Us
Which brings me back to falling in love with life again.
During one particularly tough period in my life, I found myself grieving three deeply personal things: the end of my mother’s life, the end of my marriage, and the end of my belief that we would stop climate change from coming (which felt deeply personal because I saw it as so entwined with my children’s future).
I took myself away one day to a hillside overlooking the Pacific Ocean, and there I sat alone amid the tall grasses, trying to write my way to some idea of how to move forward.
The pages before me remained blank.
But eventually, I noticed children playing and dogs running on the beach below. Birds soaring overhead. Beautiful wispy clouds being blown across the sky. Waves thunderously crashing on the shore. The sun warming my back.
And suddenly, for that instant, I saw life as bigger than I had been picturing it, and I saw that so much of it was still good.
After many twists and turns, this led to my current work on changing the narrative from “Saving the World” to “Savoring the World.” I don’t mean this as a replacement for doing everything we can to safeguard the people, places, and principles we love.
Rather, I see it as a much-needed container for that work. Something big enough to hold and sustain us in these tough times. And as our birthright, if you will—something that I do not want to miss out on, for any reason.
Lisa Bennett is the author of the forthcoming Savor the World and coauthor of Ecoliterate with Daniel Goleman. She offers talks, workshops, and advisory relationships that support the work of mission-driven organizations.
Please reach out if you’d like to learn more—or receive the new Savor the World guide.
Thank you Lisa for holding this space for all of us. Soldiering through, over many years, the save vs savor duality. You give voice to what so many experience and we get to come together, with joy, with you.
❤️✌️👍