Eco-Grief, Because The World's on Fire

Dr. Heidi Schreiber-Pan is a licensed professional counselor and certified nature informed therapist based in the Greater Baltimore area. She founded and operated the Chesapeake Mental Health Collaborative, the first nature-informed group therapy practice in the U.S.

Schreiber-Pan specializes in the treatment of stress, anxiety and grief, and has begun treating people experiencing eco-despair and eco-grief.

How did you come to eco-grief as a topic?

My first client with severe eco-despair was a climate scientist, and I initially hesitated, feeling I might not be the right therapist because I also struggle with eco-anxiety; however, the scientist believed that made me the perfect therapist. We co-journeyed together, and since then, I’ve had more clients experiencing similar feelings.

As the conversation around climate change intensified, so did the need to recognize and name these emotions, and eco-grief became a natural extension of this dialogue. Over the years, I’ve witnessed the growing emotional and psychological toll that environmental degradation and climate change have had on individuals and communities.

We usually talk about grief in terms of people or pets and death, and sometimes abstractly like grieving a job or career. This is a very new concept that seems to have arisen as the conversation about climate change has intensified.

Eco-grief, while relatively new in the public discourse, is not a new phenomenon. Indigenous cultures, for example, have long held a deep awareness of the interconnectedness between humans and nature, and the grief that arises when that relationship is disrupted. As our climate crisis becomes more urgent, people are experiencing these losses more acutely, whether it’s the destruction of ecosystems, the extinction of species, or the erosion of places they’ve loved.

What makes eco-grief unique is that it’s anticipatory and ongoing — it’s a loss that we feel in real-time, even as we try to prevent it from worsening.

On the flip side of that coin, is eco-grief a self-inflicted pain because people are thinking too much about climate change?

I wouldn’t describe eco-grief as self-inflicted. It’s a natural response to the existential threat of climate change. To me, the real issue is that many of us feel overwhelmed by the scale of the crisis and powerless to make a difference. It’s not that we’re thinking too much about climate change, but rather that we don’t always know how to process the enormity of the problem. Eco-grief is not about obsessing over the issue — it’s about acknowledging the very real pain of living in a time of environmental crisis and finding ways to channel that grief into meaningful action and connection.

You live in the Mid-Atlantic region, where severe weather is a threat year-round. Additionally, the Delaware-Maryland-Virginia area is noted for its oppressively hot and humid summers. How does the repetitive cycle of climate change impact a person mentally and emotionally?

The Mid-Atlantic region, like many others, has been seeing more frequent and severe weather events — flooding, heat waves, hurricanes — which undoubtedly takes a toll on mental health. People feel a sense of helplessness when these events happen, especially as they become more regular. It’s hard to ignore the anxiety that comes with uncertainty and the constant awareness that the climate is changing in ways that are beyond our control.

Mentally and emotionally, this can manifest as a chronic low-level stress, a form of hypervigilance. People may feel exhausted from the constant cycle of worry and fear, leading to eco-anxiety, depression, and sometimes feelings of paralysis or numbness.

Elizabeth Kubler-Ross famously outlined the five stages of grief — denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance. From your perspective, does eco-grief follow a similar cyclical pattern or are there other stages people face?

Eco-grief can certainly follow a similar pattern to Kubler-Ross’s stages of grief, but I believe it’s more complex and ongoing. There’s an added layer of responsibility and guilt that people often feel — wondering what they could or should have done differently, or what they can do now to mitigate the crisis.

Eco-grief can also involve periods of hope or optimism when positive changes occur, followed by deep frustration when progress stalls or regresses. It’s more cyclical than linear, with people revisiting emotions like anger, sadness, and acceptance multiple times, sometimes even in the same day. The stages of eco-grief are more fluid because the crisis is unfolding in real-time.

There are some recognized pathways to therapeutic treatment for people dealing with grief and bereavement of a death — talk therapy, social activity and engagement, etc. How do we treat eco-grief?

Eco-grief, like any grief, requires a thoughtful approach. I use the framework of Allow, Act, Adopt, and Attend:

• Allow: Acknowledge and give space to your feelings of grief.

• Act: Channel that grief into meaningful environmental action.

• Adopt: Embrace healthy thinking and intentionally choose joy as a form of resistance.

• Attend: Practice ongoing self-care and stay connected to nature and supportive communities.

  
  

Turning to the personal, when did you first encounter eco-grief?

My passion for the environment has been a lifelong journey. Even as a middle schooler living in Europe, I felt the urgency to protect nature. I organized a green team at my school to raise awareness about wastefulness and promote recycling. That was many years ago, and while the environmental movement has grown, it pains me now more than ever to see nature suffering even more under the impact of human activity. This deep connection to the natural world has driven my work today, particularly in addressing eco-grief and helping others process their emotional responses to environmental destruction.

How do you cope? What have you found works best for you in managing your eco-grief?

For me, managing eco-grief is a process of continual reconnection with nature. Spending time outdoors, whether through hiking, gardening, or simply sitting by a stream, helps me stay grounded and find moments of peace. I also practice mindfulness and gratitude—reminding myself of the beauty that still exists in the world and the small victories we achieve in conservation and restoration.

Finally, I find purpose in my work as a therapist and educator, knowing that by helping others process their eco-grief, we are building a collective resilience that is so necessary in these times. I often read Robin Wall Kimmerer’s quote to remind me of my commitment to joy.

Read the full article: https://realdirtnap.substack.com/p/eco-grief-because-the-worlds-on-fire