When the Body Mirrors the Earth
- Deborah Punton
- Apr 17
- 5 min read
A Personal Reflection on vulnerability, connection, and collapse
I’ve recently had surgery, and in the quiet, slow moments of recovery, I’ve felt an acute tenderness in my body—a vulnerability. Concurrently, during this time, I reflect on how this echoes a growing, deep, shared fragility across our world. It has me wondering and considering my role during this exciting time on our planet Earth.
Our systems—ecological, societal, and geopolitical—are straining and showing signs of collapse. And many of us carrythis tension in our hearts, minds, bodies, and community interactions.
Questions I've Been Sitting With and Wondering About
Can we continue to deforest, extract, and exploit to build “green” tech and expect no consequences? Are we trying to solve this crisis with the same con$umer mindset that caused it? What happens when the pieces of the green technology have come to the end of their life-span?
If our current lifestyles require multiple Earths to sustain, how much is ever truly “enough” within the current con$umer and entitled mindset, and increasing middle class with money to spend on things which are highly intensive on our Earth's resources?
I remember how quickly systems broke down during COVID. What did we learn, and what could we do better next time in the face of a crisis? How can we be more prepared and resilient to the increasing number of shocks and challenges?
Where are my talents, skills, and passions useful in supporting life-affirming ways of being that have a minimal impact on our Earth? How do I mitigate damage and inspire others to live with a reduced impact on our Earth?
What support do we each need to keep showing up for one another in times of challenge? How do we stay calm and connected when fear and division feel like the dominant currents?
How can we have conversations that don’t shut people down or trigger their defence mechanisms, but instead open the door to acceptance, understanding, compassion, healing, resilience, and knowing our capacity and role to collaborate and act on behalf of our Earth?
In what ways can connection itself become part of a path toward more just, kind, and humane responses to all that we’re facing?
I keep returning to this: Connection is a necessity.
The Crisis Beneath the Crisis
When we speak of climate change, war, ecological breakdown, or injustice, we often reach first for data or technological fixes, arming ourselves with knowledge. I started this search for meaning when studying my master's in applied ecopsychology eco-resilience project. But beneath all of this lies a deeper wound: A crisis of relationship.
Our ecological crisis is, at its heart, a disconnection—from nature, from one another, and from our sense of belonging within the web of life.
No amount of information or technological fixes alone will fix that. This is not just a climate and ecological crisis—it’s a relational crisis.
Who Cares?
Maybe you do. Many people I know seriously care on a very deep level. Maybe you care about your home, family, children, grandchildren, vulnerable species or ecosystems, health, lifestyle, financial impacts, retirement or pension, the trees outside your window, pets and animals, the water, or food systems.
Some businesses do care also, some care because of laws ensuring they are more "environmentally-friendly", others because they feel it is the right thing to do to create a safer future, and others because climate-related disasters are impacting their bottom dollar. Insurance premiums have soared or become unavailable in some areas. In fact, I know of a case where an insurance company purchased a climate modelling firm—strategically positioning themselves to anticipate climate impacts and better protect their financial interests. We can also expect taxes to be reshaped to manage mounting risks and costs around food, energy, healthcare, and security, which will continue to rise.
What if we could care more before the increased challenges of collapse? Not out of fear, detachment, and divisiveness, but out of connectedness, love and respect?

Reimagining Our Role
What would it look like to live in balance, harmony and reciprocity within the places we live, work, and play?
What might calm, just, compassionate, and grounded responses to the challenges of crisis and collapse look like?
How can we be grounded in love, gratitude, respect, reverence, and compassion even as systems unravel?
I feel it’s time to create sanctuaries—within ourselves, our homes, our communities, the natural world surrounding us—places and spaces where we can dream and reimagine what it means to be a human in relationship with our Earth. By adopting a holistic, proactive approach, each of us can go forth understanding our unique role as part of our Earth's systems and feel the support and belonging of others and our natural world.

We belong here — not as conquerors — we are kin.
What I Don’t Trust — And What I Still Hold Active Hope For
I don’t trust humanity as a whole, to shift out of this extractive, consumer-driven mindset quickly enough to reduce climate and ecological impacts in my lifetime. The emissions created today become part of the planetary systems that are warming the climate and creating disruption in feedback loops. The systems we humans have built—based on control, dominance, and disconnection—are deeply, culturally, and generationally embedded. Poor environmental management exacerbates disaster risks, and systemic collapse is not a distant possibility; it’s unfolding now. We have exploited and poisoned our Earth for too long, and her planetary systems are now responding in systemic ways we cannot control. We also see economic and political instability, and people in powerful roles are fighting over resources, killing, maiming, and dictating how and where certain humans should be living. But collapse does not mean 'the end'. It may mean the end of “business as usual,” and maybe that opens a doorway to a vision of something more beautiful, grounded, just, kind, and real. Something founded on Active Hope! Despite the challenges we face, I still have faith in humanity’s capacity for compassion, courage, and collective action.
What can I actually do right now, with the resources I have, to make a difference—even if it's small or imperfect?
So What Can We Do?
Listen deeply. To ourselves, to others, to the land beneath our feet, listening with our whole senses. Ensure we also listen to our personal needs, sustain and resource ourselves, and maintain our well-being.
Let go of toxic positivity. We don’t need blind optimism or passive hope—we need people grounded in courage. Courage helps us accept, understand, and prepare, and empowers us to step into active hope with grounded, practical actions.
Speak the truth. Accept that we are in a time of societal and planetary collapse. With this acceptance of truth comes the need to process information and feelings in a safe space.
Create community. Build relationships of trust, respect, and care. Collaborate, plan, respond, and support one another.
Connect. Celebrate beauty, joy, love, and simplicity. These ingredients are essential nourishment and regenerate us on many levels. Spend time with aligned, proactive people doing good things and within the natural world that surrounds you.
Let’s Keep the Conversation Going
What helps you reconnect, recalibrate, and renew your sense of wonder, reverence, and appreciation for our Earth? I’d really love to hear. If you're part of our Kinfolk Facebook group, please share there—or feel free to email me your thoughts. Your reflections might be just the medicine someone else needs today.
This blog is inspired by the natural world to which I am a part of and to the many people, friends and others, including Dr. Mike Cohen, Project NatureConnect, Jem Bendell and Deep Adaptation, Joanna Macy, The Work That Reconnects, Deep Ecology, Pema Chodron, and many more people sharing thoughts about acceptance and adaptation, and how to live a meaningful earth-alligned lifestyle.
Check out this Climate Council Climate Risk Map to see how your location is with climate risks now and into the future.
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