Photo: Randy Ruby
One of the greatest rewards of being a surfer is having the opportunity on a casual, almost-daily basis, to be surrounded by marine life in their natural habitat. Surfers as a whole are connected to nature more than most, and this connection can be overwhelmingly enchanting at times, yet downright terrifying at others.
For the most part, mornings spent in the ocean feel very ordinary, with sea life remaining illusive and mysterious. But then there are those mornings that are extraordinary. I remember a fateful day last November when I broke my leg on a strangely soft wave at my local break. That morning, while it took an unfortunate turn, is my freshest memory of feeling that intrinsic connection to the sea.
It was one of those glistening days in Los Angeles, the water unusually clear (and warm), and sea life completely abundant. I watched seabirds dive-bombing outside the lineup, while seals popped their heads up sporadically, and I was at one point engulfed in the middle of a pod of dolphins, so close that I could reach out and feel their smooth, blubbery skin as they passed by. To top it off, when I least expected it, I caught a glimpse of a juvenile great white shark, probably around six or seven feet long (but thick and powerful), flying underneath me. The speed it carried was both frightening and exhilarating.
Sounds pretty rewarding, doesn’t it?
Five minutes from my home, on a run-of-the-mill Wednesday, I got to do what many people have only dreamt about doing. I got to do (for free) what people on vacation in places like Cabo and Hawaii actually pay good money to do.
For me, as a surfer, while I so much enjoy these experiences and do my best not to take them for granted, they are part of my life. That was not the first time I’d experienced a morning like that, and more than likely it will not be the last. With that said, there are certain coastlines and regions around the world, including the Gulf of Mexico, in which experiences like the one I had are on the decline, with no clear end in sight.
As I browsed through the links in this week’s Soup by the Surfrider Foundation, an article about the current state of marine life in the gulf caught my attention. While my analytical brain tried to absorb the astonishing statistics cited in the article, about the effects that the BP oil spill had on various populations of marine birds and mammals, it was my emotional brain that hit me with a deep sadness.
The sadness and the anger, the emotions that I feel when I read this stuff, remind me of an ongoing conversation that I’ve been having with a Norwegian friend of mine. In response to my last post, on how convenience is ruining the planet, Lennart brought up a few key points that I believe are worth discussing:
Photo: Randy Ruby
The Association Between Negative Emotions and Environmental Campaigns
Thinking about dolphins and whales and birds dying because of human action and error, totally out of their control, makes me sad. Thinking about the career fishermen and people whose lives will never be the same because of the spill, makes me sad.
What starts out as feelings of sadness, often leads to anger and resentment. Anger towards companies like British Petroleum. Anger towards lawmakers and individuals who pass and support laws that allow for offshore oil drilling, and continue to allow these catastrophic events to take place. Anger towards those influentials who make decisions based on the all mighty dollar, as opposed to the greater good.
It’s no wonder so many environmental campaigns fail to gain traction, they are all in some way connected to emotions of sadness and anger. As Lennart’s friend pointed out, “I don’t want to think about my carbon footprint or eating less meat because it makes me sad.”
None of us enjoy the feeling of sadness, and I think it’s important to replace the negative feelings associated with living more sustainably, with positive ones. In order to do that, we must first understand why the emotions evoked by environmental issues are typically negative to begin with.
Photo: Randy Ruby
The Enormous Scope of These Issues and Facing Constant Failure
Probably the easiest emotion to feel aside from sadness and anger at the thought of these important environmental issues is helplessness. When you look at the scope of how far things have gotten out of hand, it’s not all that encouraging that we as individuals can really make a difference.
When my eyes finally opened to the fact that I’ve been living an unsustainable lifestyle (for pretty much my whole life), things haven’t gotten easier. For example, my main focuses at the moment are to cut down on my use of plastic, be more conscious of my water usage, and lower my carbon emissions. Simple enough, right?
Yet, I look in my fridge and I see a bunch of plastic. I look in my bathroom and see the same thing. I get in my car (when I occasionally have to drive), and I feel a little guilty.
It’s mind boggling to think that here I am genuinely trying to do the right thing, and guilt and failure are the prominent emotions that I’m experiencing. There is something so twisted to me about this, but it is the utter and absolute truth.
So now that we understand why environmental issues evoke negative emotions, the question is, how can we replace these with positive ones?
Photo: Randy Ruby
Wait, What’s In This for Me?
The last point that Lennart emphasized was this…
We do things and we create habits that give us an award. The challenge with convenience is that it is such a strong reward. To sit in your new car and get to your friends in 5 minutes will for most people be a stronger reward (not to mention the social proof a new car gives you), than the feeling of doing the right thing by biking the same distance and feeling that one did the right thing.
He then posed the question…
How do we make people feel good (get an instant reward) for even the smallest step they take towards a greener living? What are the rewards that you are being motivated by and how can this be transferred into a message for others?
In a previous post, I talked about the rewards of driving less. They represent my own personal motivation behind biking to surf, and although they lack the glitz and glam of more convenient alternatives, I see a deeper value in them, so they work for me.
It comes down to PRIDE.
I don’t know if an intangible thing like pride will ever be a more attractive reward than convenience. I simply do not know if it has the strength to catch on in an instantaneous world. But I take pride in my efforts. I accept the fact that making these lifestyle changes isn’t easy, and changing an entire life’s worth of habits doesn’t happen over night.
So I keep my head up. I continue to educate myself on what I can do to lower my negative contributions, and increase my positive ones. I put one foot in front of the other. I take baby step after baby step, and it’s a slow process, but it’s one that I’m proud of.
For more photographs from photographer Randy Ruby, visit his website, RandyRuby.com.
