How My Phone Helps Alleviate Climate Anxiety

Mindfulness in the Anthropocene

Ruurlo Castle (all photos in article by author)

My smartphone lights up, accompanied by a familiar droplet sound, alerting me to the latest news. Today, an article from The Guardian reports that a one-degree Celsius rise in global temperature could lead to a 12% decline in world gross domestic product. This message exemplifies the many profoundly worrying notifications I receive daily.

Humanity appears to be approaching a global environmental catastrophe, with news of deadly floods, early-season forest fires, and predictions of intense hurricanes becoming increasingly common. While I opted in for these notifications, it’s depressing to receive them.

In response to this avalanche of grim environmental news, I’ve found a simple yet effective way to counter the stress it causes: a photo widget on my phone’s home screen. It displays pleasant memories with friends and family, snapshots from my travels, and especially the many photos I’ve taken during nature hikes.

Walking in Gelderland, west of Ruurlo.

This morning, colorful pictures of nature reminded me of a walk I made last September in the province of Gelderland in the eastern part of the Netherlands. The opening photo of the castle and its reflection in the water is one of that collection. It was the first one I took that day in late summer when I started walking near the town of Ruurlo.

If the news about our living conditions in times of climate change is too much for me, I use these photo memories to travel virtually or dive into history.

The castle shown in the first photo was, for instance, once the home of a king; not a very successful one, more of an adventurer than a king. His adventures before ruling Corsica could form the inspiration for a Hollywood movie. He was the son of a Westphalian nobleman and educated at the court of France. He then served in the French and Swedish armies until King Charles XII of Sweden sent him to England and Spain to negotiate with Cardinal Alberoni. You may remember Alberoni from the history books of the days when those with a talent for manipulation and intrigue could combine a powerful position in the church with a career in hard-power politics.

Alberoni famously started his impressive career during the War of Spanish Succession by kissing the Duke de Vendôme’s buttocks and crying, “O Culo di Angelo!”. I will leave the question if this was indeed the ass of an angel to historians, but the result was that Alberoni, a low-ranking priest replaced the bishop of Parma as the envoy of the duke. He accompanied him to Paris, where this son of a gardener in northern Italy soon became a Royal favorite. It’s an early European version of what we would later know as the American Dream.

Theodor Freiherr von Neuhoff, Mezzotint by Johann Jacob Haid (Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons)

Von Neuhoff served Alberoni and quickly rose the ranks to become a colonel. He then married one of the Spanish queen’s ladies-in-waiting, soon left her (waiting, I suppose), got into financial trouble, and wandered through Europe, where he reportedly visited Portugal, the Netherlands, and Italy.

Let me break here for a moment to state that I haven’t entirely forgotten about climate change. My writing proves that a photo that randomly pops up on my phone can distract me from the worrying news about flooding in Brazil or forest fires in British Columbia.

If you have forgotten about climate change by this point in my story and prefer to hear more about the King of Corsica, it proves my theory has value. Add a photo widget to your phone to achieve the same climate-anxiety-reducing effect. But for now, back to Neuhoff, whose life is so colorful that reading about his adventures forms an excellent alternative to the latest news.

In Italy, in the harbor city of Genua, Neuhoff schemed with Corsican rebels and exiles. He convinced them he could free Corsica from the Genoese if they agreed to make him the island king. He succeeded in his mission with the help of Abu I-Hasan Ali I, also known as Ali Bash, who had just become the ruler of Tunisia. Ali had successfully rebelled against his uncle Husayn I Bey. It was a costly operation; it left him with a large indemnity to the dey of Algiers, who had helped him to defeat his uncle.

King Theodore I of Corsica

Soon after Neuhoff’s landing in Corsica, the islanders crowned him King Theodore I. The new king waged war on the Genoese, which wasn’t successful because of infighting among the rebels. It was just a short stint as a king. He left Corsica later in the same year of 1736 with a price on his head by the Genoese, who accompanied the reward announcement with a colorful description of his Hollywood-movie-worthy past.

My phone chimes. An article pops up about the sweltering heat in northwest India. It also gives a weather alert for New Delhi. Parts of India’s capital reported temperatures above 47 degrees Celsius (116 degrees Fahrenheit). Scientists found that climate change made last month’s heatwave that struck parts of Asia at least 45 times more likely in some parts of the continent.

Climate change is an essential part of my work, but I need to be able to step away from the news. The same phone that brings these somber tidings of a dangerously warming planet also brings distraction when I need it in the form of memories and pictures of the beauty of nature. I swipe the news up and dive back into the sources I found on the eventful life of the king of Corsica.

As I piece it together on the internet, the following chapters in the story of Neuhoff’s life brought the former king to Spain, Naples, and the Netherlands. His residence became Ruurlo Castle, where, some 300 years later, I would start my walk in the beautiful province of Gelderland. His stay in the Netherlands was short and disappointing since he was soon after arrested for debt in Amsterdam.

West of Ruurlo.

Once he regained his freedom, he returned several times to his kingdom of Corsica but consistently failed to restore power in his fights against the combined Genoese and French forces on the island. He then returned to the Netherlands to prepare for new actions to regain control.

Part of his strategy was to seek support in England. However, as so often before, he fell into debt and ended up in a debtor’s prison, this time in London. He managed to get out of jail once he realized his title was worth something, so he gave his kingdom of Corsica to his creditors.

Debt-free but poor, he lived in London, subsiding on the charity of another of those colorful eighteen-century characters, Horace Walpole, who built the magnificent Strawberry Hill house in Twickenham. It would be the last year in the eventful life of King Theodore I of Corsica, who died in 1756.

I end the search on my phone and return to the opening screen full of colorful apps, inviting me to click on those that show a badge with the number of messages waiting for me. I click on one of them and read about a new NOAA study that concludes that more than sixty percent of the world’s coral reefs may have bleached in the past year. The percentage is still rising, and just like the heatwaves in Asia, it is the combination of climate change and El Niño that is to blame; it has pushed ocean temperatures to record highs.

I decide to escape the sad news and tidings about our planet once more and return to the pictures my phone has selected for me. These bring back memories of the beautiful walk in the Dutch countryside. That day in September felt like a day in mid-summer, with blue sky and warm temperatures. I walked along tree-lined lanes, with on both sides brown-white colored cows, horses, and sheep. The photos remind me of how well I feel when I spend hours outdoors, admiring the beauty of nature.

Mexican Aster

I remember the abundance of flowers, including this white version of the Mexican Aster (Cosmos bipinnatus). Most varieties I saw that day appeared in shades of purple, but a few were bright white. I caught them right since they risk becoming top-heavy when flowering. But there wasn’t any rain to add to their burden, and they grew so abundant that the frail flowers supported each other to stay upright.

The plant is an immigrant in our country, making nature more diverse and colorful. These Mexican plants are increasingly popular in Dutch gardens; some have escaped and are in the wild. In several countries, these beauties are considered weeds, but most people will enjoy the subtle design of these small, colorful flowers.

Mindfulness in the Anthropocene

Breaking the deluge of sad news about our planet’s destruction with positive images of nature helps to keep me balanced. After many years of dealing with our unintended but accelerated move toward the planetary boundaries and its consequences for human- and international security, I need the beauty of life to remind me why we are here.

We have only one chance to make it right on this tiny planet in a vast, cold universe. This challenge is not a board game where you can fail and return to start for another try. We have a responsibility towards each other, the next generations, and all species on the planet.

As an activist for preserving the right living conditions on our planet, I must not only know about the dangers we face but also remind myself of the beauty at stake. That includes our shared history, King Theodore I of Corsica, and the little flower known as the Mexican Aster. It also consists of the beauty of the written word, which can briefly let you dream away to different times and places on the same wonderful planet that needs our protection.

I couldn't fit all my photos and stories into this article. If you want to continue reading, click here for the public post on Patreon.

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