ticktock

Last night, after watching ‘Climate Change: The Facts’, the BBC’s terrifying synopsis of what we have done to the planet, and where it is taking us, I went upstairs to my kids’ bedroom and watched them sleeping for a long, long time.

I watched their chests rise and fall, breathing the air we take for granted, perhaps dreaming of the coming Bank Holiday weekend, when they will play in the sunshine we still see as a blessing rather than an enemy. And I thought: When are you going to tell them that their safe world is falling apart?

Perhaps for the first time ever, this week brought with it a confluence of stories that have forced me into spiral of misanthropic, climate-anxiety. There was the BBC doc, and the Extinction Rebellion protests in Central London. There was Notre Dame's immolation, and the billionaire philanthropy which pursued it, with its perfect encapsulation of society’s deluded, anthropocentric priorities. A few thousand miles away, in news you probably haven’t heard about, wildfires were tearing through the Simien Mountains National Park in Ethiopia, just another natural treasure fallen victim to human irresponsibility. There will be more.

And it’s forced me to realize, with heart-stopping clarity, that our stubborn refusal to digest the urgency of this moment is going to steal the planet from my children, and their children after them. And that this is the point at which we all have to stop, take a breath, and engage with the challenges we face, and with our fast-diminishing options to surmount them.