My brother recently had a heart attack. He had been in the hospital for four weeks awaiting open heart surgery, which he finally had—on day one of the climate summit.
He is my older brother by six years. When we were kids, if felt like an enormous difference. He always seemed so much older and wiser, calm and cool as I fumbled through life. As we have aged, those years are barely noticeable. It is hard to reconcile someone his age being in this position, it is far too soon.
I was deeply attached to my brother for the first decade of my life. Wherever he went, I followed. Wherever he slept, I did too. Even when he was far too old to have his little sister sleep with him, I would sneak in after he dozed off. And in the morning, he was never angry. He was kind and patient, the older brother that stories are written about. When he became a father to three daughters, it could have been no other way.
We have been shaped by shared experiences only fully understood by the two of us. Experiences that include privilege as well as grief, fear, and uncertainty. Those connections have sometimes pushed us apart but always ultimately seem to bring us together again.
The purpose of this reflection is not just to honour my brother, who is now recovering well. It is a visceral reminder about the power of connection. The timing of it all so poignant. On day one of the workshop, he had cardiac surgery: to die. On day two, he lay sleeping in the ICU: to dream. By day three, he was awake and determined to start his recovery: to live.
During the climate summit, my mind was in many places—feeling overwhelmed by fear, searching for meaning, and grasping onto hope. Emotions not dissimilar to those I have cycled through regularly over the course of this masters. It has profoundly resonated with me, offering a fitting closure to two and a half years of intense, beautiful, and at times deeply painful, growth. This summit helped me to accept the complexity of my position in a system that is not linear: to simultaneously hold space to hospice that which is harmful; nurture connections and dare to dream; and make room for different paths that may not yet be imagined. In other words, to die, to dream, and to live.
To Die
My brother’s experience has been a stark reminder of his mortality—and that of all of us. While we are aware of this truth on some level, it is often repressed and ignored. We are conditioned to deny the inevitability of death, shielding ourselves from its pain, yet this denial only deepens the suffering. This avoidance extends beyond our own lives to the systems and practices that we cling to, even when they no longer serve us.
By denying our mortality, we miss the opportunity to fully experience life. In trying to escape death, we create a profound fear of it instead (Machado de Oliveira, 2021). This denial keeps us from embracing the interconnectedness of living and dying, where life and death are inextricably linked, occurring simultaneously (Machado de Oliveira, 2021). To truly understand our place in the world, we must confront and accept these cycles of life and death. Our resistance to death separates us ideologically from nature itself (Machado de Oliveira, 2021), preventing us from embracing the beauty and enormity of being part of the wonder of Earth.
Almost daily, my kids and I listen to “Pursuit of Happiness” by Kid Cudi. They dance with joy, oblivious to the song’s undercurrent of pain: “I’m on the pursuit of happiness […] I’ll be fine once I get it, yeah, I’ll be good” (Cudi, 2009, 00:59). While perhaps too young for the conversation, we talk about its meaning, which I interpret as a reflection on addiction and the hollow pursuit of fleeting happiness. This mirrors our society’s addiction to a modern lifestyle that promises fulfillment but instead leads us down a destructive, unsustainable path. It is time to hospice these harmful ideas—the endless chase for happiness in things that harm us—recognizing that this pursuit will never truly satisfy.
The wonder of life is inseparable from the inevitability of death, reflected in the continuous cycles of cellular death and regeneration within our own bodies (Coffey, 2022). Similarly, letting go of outdated cultural practices and beliefs is essential to creating space for new, regenerative ideas. As aptly stated by Vanessa Andreotti, “the wisdom of the new system depends on our ability to be taught by the mistakes of the old”(Joseph Rowntree Foundation, 2023, 1:40).
To Dream
During the workshop, I shared a childhood memory of a vivid dream about a city in the clouds. I believed so strongly in its reality that, on my walk to school with my brother, I stopped to look up, hoping to catch a glimpse. At that time in our lives, such wonder felt natural. Somewhere along the way, that sense of magic faded, not only due to the lack of sleep and time for reflection but also the diminishing ability to make space for the unseen and let imagination guide what might be possible.
With so much of our energy devoted to tasks and details, we often lose the capacity to dream. As Sidarto Ribeiro aptly observes, “what we gain in precision, we lose in extension” (Parente, 2022). This narrowing of focus is likely intentional. In a capitalist system, humans are valued for productivity rather than creativity (Hersey, 2022). In this context, rest becomes a radical act, “a counter-narrative… we are not machines. We are divine” (Hersey, 2022).
Dreams are essential to innovation. They provide a unique neurological state that fosters creative problem-solving, offering vivid visualization for challenges that defy conventional solutions (Barrett, 2017). We must carve out time for dreaming—through sleep, reflection, and conversations—and honor the insights they bring. It is in these expansive moments of imagination that transformative possibilities can emerge.
To Live
My brother’s recent medical experience was made particularly difficult due to its unexpected nature. Those around him, including myself, searched for reasons why it happened, trying to identify risk factors to find some sense in it. This absence of explanation only deepened the sorrow we felt. And although I wish this had not occurred, I have witnessed profound changes in him. He has developed an openness and vulnerability which has closed gaps in relationships. As we begin to embrace our own relational transformations in the face of mortality, our societal cracks pose those same opportunities.
For myself, and I believe for all of us, the challenge is to remain open to new possibilities, even if they remain unknown. The very cracks destabilizing modernity are the spaces where we can begin to redefine our interconnectedness and challenge the status quo, ultimately leading to transformation (Akomolafe, 2022). Just as sleep can serve as a counter-narrative, embracing uncertainty is a form of rebellion against the false security modernity promises.
I envision all of us on this climate journey finding happiness in the depths of the cracks. I can vividly imagine us climbing and slipping on the moss-covered crevices as pieces of mountain fall off in our hands, revealing a splash of light that sparkles through in a colour our eyes have never before experienced. I see us all shifting course to “find joy in the struggle itself rather than in the imagined prize at the end” (Gesturing Towards Decolonial Futures, 2023).
The climate summit had many powerful moments. Most notably it brought together my profound personal experiences, both recent and throughout the last few years, weaving together themes of mortality, hospicing, imagination, and transformation. It has been a reminder to embrace the complexities and cracks of life as spaces for learning, dreaming, and living in interconnected and regenerative ways. Rather than seeking joy in distant goals, I am learning to find it within the complexity of the journey itself.
References
Akomolafe, B. (2022). The Children of the Minotaur: Democracy & Belonging at the End of the World. https://www.bayoakomolafe.net/post/the-children-of-the-minotaur-democracy-belonging-at-the-end-of-the-world
Barrett, D. (2017). Dreams and creative problem-solving. Annals of the New York Academy of Sciences, 1406(1), 64–67. https://doi.org/10.1111/nyas.13412
Coffey, D. (2022). Does the human body replace itself every 7 years? Live Science. https://www.livescience.com/33179-does-human-body-replace-cells-seven-years.html
Cudi, K. (2009). Pursuit of happiness [Song]. On Man on the moon: The end of day [Album]. Universal Motown Records.
Gesturing Towards Decolonial Futures. (2023). 7 steps back and 7 steps forward (or aside). Gesturing Towards Decolonial Futures. https://decolonialfutures.net/2023/01/31/7-steps-back-and-7-steps-forward/
Hersey, T. (2022, February 21). Rest is anything that connects your mind and body. The Nap Ministry. https://thenapministry.wordpress.com/2022/02/21/rest-is-anything-that-connects-your-mind-and-body/
Joseph Rowntree Foundation (Director). (2023, July 21). Hospicing Modernity: Vanessa Andreotti [Video recording]. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=X0ZkOFFmbIY
Machado de Oliveira, V. (2021). Hospicing Modernity by Vanessa Machado de Oliveira: 9781623176242 | PenguinRandomHouse.com: Books. PenguinRandomhouse.Com. https://www.penguinrandomhouse.com/books/675703/hospicing-modernity-by-vanessa-machado-de-oliveira/
Parente, M. C. (Director). (2022, October 12). Regenerar: Caminhos Possíveis em um Planeta Machucado[Documentary]. Spanda Produtora.