Grieving the world: holding sorrow in an age of collapse
In a world where devastation and tragedy have become a daily headline, many of us are left wondering how to process the pain. Wild fires, wars, extinction, unrelenting violence against both people and planet — it’s easy to feel helpless, overwhelmed, even numb. But what if part of our work, both personally and collectively, is to grieve?
Francis Weller writes in his powerful essay, Drinking the Tears of the World: Grief as Deep Activism, that “grief is a powerful form of deep activism.” He calls on us to become the receptors of loss — the witnesses who do not turn away, the ones willing to feel what the world is going through. Without this act of mourning, we risk becoming desensitized, disengaged, and disconnected from our own humanity.
In my work, I often hear people question whether it’s “okay” to grieve events or losses that are far away. The answer is always yes. In fact, allowing ourselves to feel this grief may be one of the most essential things we can do — not just for our own mental health, but for the collective good.
Grief connects us. It reminds us we are not separate from the world’s wounds. And when we turn toward this sorrow with intention and care, it can lead us to community, to action, to love.
For those seeking ways to explore this further, here are a few starting points:
The Climate Psychology Alliance offers reflections and resources on climate grief and anxiety.
The Work That Reconnects is a resource hub inspired by Joanna Macy’s teachings, inviting us into deeper connection with our grief, each other, and the living Earth.
Witness the pain by Chris Bobel — when loved ones are traumatically lost, bereaved families become accidental activists by turning grief into grievance.
Grief belongs in social movements; can we embrace it? by Malkia Devich-Cyril. A Black activist reflects on intergenerational trauma, community, and coming to terms with death in movement building.
Singing Our Grief — ongoing monthly collective grief event hosted by the Salt Trails Collective where climate and world-related grief are welcomed and held.
Your sorrow is not a sign of weakness. It is a testament to your capacity to care. Let’s not turn away.
