BY SOFO ARCHON

When I experience beauty, I often feel grief as well. That’s because encounters with beauty tend to remind me of all that has been lost—or, more precisely, that has been destroyed by humans.
When I hike through a forest, I’m often reminded of the billions of trees cut down each year. When I swim in the sea, I often recall the 150 million metric tons of plastic dumped into the oceans. When I come across a turtle during my morning walks, I often remember the 200 species that go extinct every single day.
I often feel as though Earth is crying in pain, and this fills me with deep sorrow. Yet what saddens me even more is that most people do not seem to feel the same way—and so the destruction continues.
For years, I assumed this was because they were ignorant—or even stupid. But over time, I realized something very different: people do know what’s happening, yet only on an unconscious level, because they have repressed the feelings that arise when confronted with such pain.
To come face-to-face with the destruction of the planet can provoke immense emotional turmoil. But who dares to do it?
Due to the intense traumas many people endure throughout their lives, they often develop defense mechanisms to shield themselves from pain—such as a hardened emotional skin that allows them to navigate the world without being overwhelmed. Otherwise, how could they remain indifferent to the millions dying from malnutrition and preventable diseases, or to the hundreds of millions of land animals killed unnecessarily each year?
We live in a pain-denying culture, one in which pain is regarded as something terrible to be avoided at all costs. We seek to escape it in countless ways: numbing our minds with intoxicants, distracting ourselves with entertainment, or simply refusing to acknowledge it. Yet in doing so, we rob ourselves of the opportunity to examine our suffering, understand its source, and address it. Instead, we push it deep into the unconscious, where it lingers unresolved.
This is why so many of us have become desensitized to the suffering of Earth. It hurts to see the world hurting, so we turn away. But unless we acknowledge that suffering, how can we truly empathize with the world? And unless we empathize, how can we take meaningful action to heal it?
To heal Earth, we must first realize that pain is not our enemy. On the contrary, it is a great and wise friend. For pain exists for a crucial reason: it signals when something is wrong in our lives and urges us to take action to make it right.
Consider a simple example: if you place your hand in fire, you instantly feel pain. That pain is a warning sign, showing that you are in danger and must remove your hand to avoid injury. Emotional pain works on a similar principle, though it is more complex and subtle.
When we truly pay attention to the world and its suffering, we cannot help but feel profound grief as we confront the life and beauty that have been lost—and are still being destroyed. Yet grief can remind us of our interconnectedness with all existence. It can expand our sense of self, revealing that we are part of Earth, not apart from it—and that by harming it, we ultimately harm ourselves. In this way, grief guides us back to what truly matters: the well-being of the planet.
Through this awareness, what the great biologist E. O. Wilson called biophilia can be awakened within us: our inherent affinity for all life on Earth, and our deep, instinctive desire to interact with and protect it.
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