Winds of Change: How I Balance Between Personal Loss and Climate Crisis

Introduction

The winds of change are blowing, both in my personal life and across our shared planet. The death of my husband has upended my world, just as climate change shakes the very foundation of life for all of us.

Major changes elicit equally significant reactions. We all know this to be true, but how these changes affect you or me personally remains uncertain. Of course, not all changes affect us in the same way.

A Personal Perspective

This past autumn, I suddenly lost my husband, which plunged me into grief. Anything else would have been strange—we were together for 27 years. Grief theories often highlight emotions like anger and bargaining as central elements in processing the loss of a loved one. However, my experience has shown that there is no universal path through grief.

I’ve felt sorrow and depression because of his death, but I haven’t felt anger toward him, nor have I bargained with myself, God, or the soul of my late husband. I also never denied the reality of what happened; it was an undeniable fact I had no choice but to confront.

Instead, I had a reaction that doesn’t fit into traditional grief theories (I’m referring to Elisabeth Kübler-Ross’s grief theory, which remains widely regarded and relevant). Amid my grief over my husband’s death, I discovered that action is my way of finding meaning. I’ve done practical things—disposed of his clothes, sorted through belongings in our home, and already parted with several items that no longer align with my vision for the future. I didn’t need to discuss these decisions with anyone, and I’ve probably made some mistakes, but I acted. And this need to act isn’t something I’ve seen highlighted in grief theories. I believe this is an essential point to keep in mind as I move into the broader perspective I’ll explore here.

Climate Change and Transformation

The same applies to my reaction to climate change. When the change isn’t death, as in my case, but instead the transformation of the climate and its impacts on all of us, we may also experience a grief process—a transformation process. Grief makes us all react differently, but for me, stagnation feels like freezing in the past. That’s why I seek to act—for myself and for the world that still needs us.

We can all choose denial. There’s no climate change. That’s a viewpoint unfortunately personified by one of the world’s prominent leaders today. I’m referring to Trump, who, on his first day in office as President of the United States, signed an executive order to withdraw from the Paris Agreement. During his presidency, he had already taken steps to follow through on this, repeatedly stating during his campaign that climate change wasn’t real and even accusing Biden of influencing storms and weather patterns. These are outrageous accusations and a blatant denial of a very real problem. What’s worse is that he has convinced people to believe him.

I feel deep sadness for nature when such orders are enacted. Even more so when there’s encouragement to increase oil and gas consumption—fossil fuels that contribute directly to climate change by releasing CO₂ into the atmosphere.

I don’t understand how he can deny the changes to the Earth’s atmospheric and ecological balance when wildfires rage in his own backyard. But I assume he doesn’t have a house in California; otherwise, he might see things differently.

Perhaps the reality will sink in only when sea levels rise so much that Florida is submerged by what he prefers to call the “American Gulf” rather than the Gulf of Mexico. Unfortunately, this is a fate awaiting all low-lying areas worldwide. The land Trump so covets—Greenland—is famously covered by a multi-kilometer-thick ice sheet, which is also melting at an alarming rate, much like the North and South Poles.

Solutions and Predictions

I cannot deny the existence of climate change. I’m supported by countless climate scientists around the world.

I feel sadness and anger over the world’s number-one leader taking such an irresponsible stance, denying the problem, and encouraging actions that make things worse.

Here, I align perfectly with Kübler-Ross’s grief theory: yes, I feel genuine grief over the neglect of our beautiful (and only) planet’s health. My grief has turned into anger—anger I express by writing about it.

I’ve certainly bargained with myself and with God about how this scenario could change.

On a personal level, I’ve driven an electric car for eight years and installed solar panels and heat pumps to optimize energy use. I have a clear vision of how we could address the climate crisis. The solution is simple: less pollution. More renewable energy. Less reliance on fossil fuels. Planting CO₂-absorbing trees instead of clearing rainforests. We—the wealthy nations—must help poorer countries meet their agricultural needs so rainforests can become a shared natural and cultural heritage. Cleaning up our worst environmental sins, like the massive amounts of plastic polluting the oceans, and stopping further pollution of the seas with plastic and liquid waste must be immediate priorities.

At times, I’ve felt depressed about Earth’s decline and the likelihood that I won’t live to a ripe old age as once predicted. I fear dying prematurely due to the collapse of the atmosphere and climate—a collapse that will inevitably occur unless we take action, which grief theories don’t emphasize enough.

Grief over changes can be transformed into action, as my personal example earlier illustrates. But here, it’s not just me who must act. I must act, yes, but so must every inhabitant of this planet. Wake up and act.

Everyone must start small. I write about the issue, sort my waste, and improve my home’s energy efficiency and transportation. But everyone else must do their part too. We must all reduce fossil fuel consumption, recycle whenever possible, and prevent plastic from entering our oceans.

Acceptance

Only when this happens can the grief over climate change transform into acceptance. Only when we begin to see a slowdown in ice melt and a reduction in atmospheric CO₂ levels. When we witness a decline in the frequency of wildfires. Only when rainforests begin to expand again and Earth’s mighty lungs create more oxygen for the benefit of all.

Perhaps you haven’t yet felt the effects of climate change personally, or maybe you feel your efforts won’t make a difference. I understand—it can feel overwhelming. But we can no longer ignore it. This mindset, unfortunately justified by several world leaders, is unsustainable. You must realize that your life and well-being are at stake.

By planting trees, reducing our plastic consumption, and supporting green technologies, we can create a future where our children can thrive—not just survive. For future generations and for the final chapter of our own lives, we must stay awake and act. The time is now.

Love for nature, for yourself, and for your children must be the driving force. Action must replace passive observation. It’s easy to feel powerless, but every small action makes a difference. Together, we can create a world where hope, life, and beauty still exist for generations to come.