Caring for Country as Active Hope

This week I spoke with ABC’s James Vyver for a story about how First Nations communities are responding to climate change and ecological collapse. It was a conversation about more than science or politics. It was about grief, belonging, and love. It centred on solastalgia - the sense of homesickness, loss, and pain that people feel when the places they call home are degraded or destroyed by climate change.

For First Nations peoples, that grief runs especially deep. Country is not just scenery or backdrop. It’s our family. When our rivers dry, forests burn, or species disappear, it’s like losing a relative. As I said in the interview, “when we look after Country, it looks after us”. That’s not a metaphor. It’s lived truth.

Facing grief without turning away

In today’s world of rolling climate disasters and government-sanctioned habitat destruction, it’s easy to feel paralysed. The scale of ecological breakdown can be overwhelming, leaving us anxious, in despair, or denial. Yet ignoring these feelings doesn’t make them disappear. They seep out in stress, in depression, or anger.

What struck me in James Vyver’s story was how communities don’t have to choose by numbing themselves or looking away. We can respond differently: by caring for and connecting to Country. Planting native species, restoring creeks, removing weeds, and conducting cultural burns, aren’t just technical acts of land management. They’re acts of healing and connection - for land, for people, and for spirit.

This is where the idea of Active Hope comes in. Hope is not about pretending things will be fine. It is about facing reality as it is, with open eyes and hearts, and then stepping into meaningful action.

Active Hope in practice

Ecophilosopher Joanna Macy describes Active Hope as a three-part process:

1. Seeing clearly the reality of our situation.

2. Identifying what we value and hope for.

3. Taking steps in that direction.

Caring for and connecting to Country embodies each step. When we mourn the loss of species or landscapes, we are seeing clearly. We don’t sugarcoat the destruction. When we plant, weed, or cultural burn, we act on what we value - healthy ecosystems, cultural continuity, intergenerational care. And in the process, we move in the direction of a different future, even if the steps feel small.

This is why community landcare groups, cultural fire practitioners, and conservation volunteers are more than “environmental managers.” They’re practitioners of Active Hope. Each act of care is a seed of possibility. It’s also what Lyrebird Dreaming is all about.

Medicine for climate anxiety

The ABC story included advice as simple as it was profound: go into Nature. In the words of Ngunnawal Elder Uncle Wally Bell, “look, listen, and learn”. Slow down. Engage with Country. These practices aren’t luxuries; they’re medicine. They help counter the sense of isolation and helplessness that so often fuels climate anxiety.

Gamilaraay Wiradjuri woman Dr Kisani Upward put it beautifully: caring for Country is an act of caring for yourself. When we step outside, when we get our hands in the soil or sit quietly by a river, we reconnect with a web of life that’s still here, breathing, and sustaining us. Even in damaged landscapes, there’s resilience and renewal. By noticing it, we participate in it.

Caring for and connecting to Country is not only for Aboriginal people. Everyone can find ways to reconnect. So:

• Join a local Landcare or Bushcare group.

• Plant natives in your garden or balcony.

• Put a bird bath in your garden and keep your cat inside.

• Volunteer for a conservation project.

• Spend time with Traditional Custodians and listen to their stories.

• Take a walk in a local reserve, and practice the discipline of presence - look, listen, learn.

These may be modest actions, but they’re more than symbolic. They generate ecological repair and emotional resilience. They help transform despair into participation.

In moments of overwhelm, it can feel as though our efforts are meaningless against the vast forces of big business and corrupted political systems that feed global heating and extinction. But despair isn’t neutral. It feeds the very systems that are destroying our world by convincing us to do nothing.

Active Hope offers another path. It invites us to show up anyway. To care for Country and connect with it even when we can’t control the outcome.

Read James Vyver’s story here.

Gregory Andrews cultural burning at Wombat Ridge.