Climate Change: A Turning Point for Awakening

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Editor's Note:

What happens when a farmer who works daily with the land, a marine biologist diving into extreme ocean environments, and a representative seated at United Nations negotiation tables all gather at Dharma Drum Mountain to sit face-to-face with Dharma Drum Sangha University students?

On October 18, 2025, Venerable Chang Ji (常濟法師) of the Dharma Drum Mountain Buddhist Association in the United States, Daniel Abreu Mejía, consultant for the Presidency of the Dominican Republic, Reem AlMealla, founder of Nuwat for Environmental Research and Education, along with New York urban farmer Alex Epstein and Oregon State University climate facilitator Shephali Patel, came together to illuminate a shared insight:

Whether one chooses to become a monastic practitioner or to devote themselves to environmental action, both ultimately stem from the same root—care. When we genuinely care for everything around us from the heart, the Dharma is everywhere. Climate change then ceases to be a distant news issue and instead becomes a turning point for our awakening.

Venerable Chang Ji (hereafter "Moderator"): You may be wondering why these four climate leaders have come to Taiwan and why are they here at Dharma Drum Mountain. DDMBA, our U.S. organization, started a series called Inner Dimensions of Climate Change back in 2016. We first held regional gatherings and later a global conference, which concluded in 2019. First, let's invite each of them to briefly introduce themselves.

The Making of Climate Leaders

Alex Epstein: I am from the United States — New York City. I'm a gardener and a community organizer. The core of my "work" is about changing our relationship with the land and natural elements in the city through growing food. Growing up in the city, I didn’t feel any real connection with nature, even though I was fascinated by it — collecting fossils and shells, watching nature documentaries all the time, loving science and space — but that wasn't a reciprocal connection.

So the work I do now is just as much for me as it is for the communities I serve. I'm finding and nurturing my own connection with nature while helping others build theirs. I feel like a lifelong student of nature. Now, I am deeply grateful to have found a life path that gives me meaning and purpose, and allows me to meet so many amazing peers from around the world — including here in Taiwan — who broaden my perspective and shape how I work both inwardly and within communities.

Reem AlMealla: My name is Reem — which in Arabic means "Arabian gazelle, "a small desert antelope like Bambi. She's tiny, never grows big, and very resilient — a good symbol of survival.

I'm from Bahrain, the third-smallest country in Asia, located in the hottest sea on Earth. In summer, temperatures reach up to 50°C, so we always say we live life in extremes. When it's that hot, many people become easily irritated and often forget kindness and compassion.

Bahrain is made up of 33 islands, surrounded by the sea — always blue, however the blue gradient always changes. I became a marine biologist because the ocean, to me, is alive: sometimes calm, sometimes angry; sometimes full of fish, sometimes empty. I realized, "That's like me!" — happy one day, sad the next, generous one time and not another time.

For the past 15 years, I've studied the behavior of ocean creatures to understand how our actions affect them and how they, in turn, affect us. My hope is to help create a better world through that understanding.

Daniel Abreu Mejía: I'm Daniel, from the Dominican Republic. I didn't start with ecology or environmental science; my background was in marketing, management, and politics. I first studied the politics of climate change — why global negotiations are so difficult, why countries struggle to agree on solutions. At first, I focused on human systems. But over time, I felt called to understand the essence of nature — what we were actually trying to protect. I eventually became a climate change negotiator and educator.

Shephali Patel: I'm Shephali. I’m an ecologist. My work combines scientific and practical knowledge of ecology with everyday application. My work has three parts:

1. Practice. Stewarding land and growing food. Ecology begins with data and knowledge, but true understanding comes from showing up every day — farming, tending the soil, growing food and medicine, learning directly from the land.

2. Education. Sharing what we learn — teaching communities how to sustain themselves, cultivate the land, and build their own relationships with nature.

3. Creativity. Asking why we're here and how to imagine a different future. Art and creativity help us see beyond the familiar and envision new possibilities. I always try to create safe spaces for curiosity and expression. But there's also a less visible side to my work — what I was made to become because of my environment. I was born and raised in New York City. My parents were immigrants; money was tight, so survival was always the priority. I also felt disconnected from my cultural lineage. Working with nature became a way to reconnect with my roots. The land, the soil, the plants — they taught me who I was.

People often told me, "You don't look like a farmer or a scientist." But that became part of my role — to show that this work belongs to everyone, not just a specific type of person. Ultimately, I think my job is to push boundaries — of what people think science, ecology, or identity should be. This path has changed me beyond anything I imagined, and I believe it can do the same for anyone.

The Choice and Pressure of Ordination

Moderator: I would like to ask the monastic students here. What motivated you to embark on the path of ordination?

Student 1: I was born in China, and then I grew up in Singapore and Canada. What pushed me to join DDSU and become a monastic is that I realized earning a lot of money or having a comfortable position in the world doesn't really bring true happiness. I found that contributing to society while learning the Dharma and helping more people is my life's calling.

Student 2: Before I came to Dharma Drum Sangha University, I lived a very natural life. I used to be a farmer, and I was also a teacher who led children to the mountains and to the sea to learn from nature. But when I looked at my students, I didn’t know where I could really lead them—to what direction in life? So, the reason I entered DDSU was because I wanted to first understand who I am, so that one day, I can help my students and tell them who they truly are.

Moderator: How do you overcome pressures and challenges in Sangha University?

Student 3: I cried. I just cried. I cried.

Student 4: Have a routine life.

The Challenges of Turning Ideals into Reality

Moderator: How do you work through difficulties or challenges? Reem here is a fantastic person to ask, because she's the first woman in Bahrain to do marine biology fieldwork. 

Reem: That's true! When I was younger, my first reaction to problems was always anger—and then crying. It was like a cycle: something bad happened, I got angry, then I cried, then I cried because I was angry.

When I finished my studies in England and went back home to work for the first time, I visited the Marine Fisheries Department—and learnt that there were no women there, especially scientific divers.

On the first day of me officially entering my country's waters as a marine biologist, I showed up at the boat ready to dive, and one of the team members looked at me and said, "Where is your father?" I was shocked. I said, "Excuse me, sir? On your first day of work, did your boss ask where your father was?"

He said, "Well, does he know you're here? Go call your father." So I called my parents—angry, crying, shouting over the phone: "You have to come immediately! I need to get on the boat!"

My father, who is a very calm man (I'm the opposite—a firecracker!), simply said, "Reem, do you think they're comfortable? You're uncomfortable, but they're also uncomfortable. If you put fire with fire, what do you get? More fire. Go into their environment. Change your mindset, change your mindset, because they will mirror what you show them.”
So I calmed myself down and communicate with him using a different attitude: "Hello, Uncle. I'm here to work with you." And suddenly, the whole dynamic changed. He treated me like a daughter instead of someone there to challenge him or to invade his space.

From that experience, I learned that when you're doing something difficult or unfamiliar, you have to be even kinder—more patient—than the other person. And I still practice that today. There are people I honestly don't like very much, but I remind myself to act kindly, because the more kindness I give, the kinder the response I receive.

Lessons I Learn from Challenges

Alex: While I was listening to Reem, I was thinking about how I deal with challenges. Two things come up. First, relationships. Leaning on community—on loved ones, friends, and comrades. And second—and this one I'm not good at, but trying to improve—is seeing challenges as teachers.

I actually have a very relevant example—from this trip! I flew here seven days ago, and I brought a whole bag full of stuff: clothes, medicine, notebooks—all my "things". But when I arrived, my bag didn't make it - It was left in New York. So for three days, all I had were the clothes on my back. But something really beautiful happened. Daniel lent me clean underwear. Venerable Guo Chan (果禪法師) bought me two shirts and a toothbrush. Reem shared medicine when I got a little sick. And Shefali reminded me that everything would be okay.

We were staying at Yunlai Monastery at the time. Every day, I wore one set of clothing, while hand washing the other shirt, pair of socks, and underwear. Switching each day. So I thought, "If I'm ever going to live with just two sets of clothing, this is the perfect place to do it."

In the end, my bag arrived, everything was fine. But those three days taught me something profound. First, that's what community is for—showing up for one another in small ways, helping each other move forward through difficulties. And second, I started to ask myself: "What's the lesson here? What's the universe trying to teach me?"

I honestly still don't have a clear answer, but I realize that asking that question is the practice. The destination is the process. This experience—losing my bag and being without my "things"—became a reflection on letting go of attachments to material comfort. It made me reflect deeply: "What comforts am I truly willing to give up to live in alignment with my values?" So I'm actually grateful for this mystery of the missing bag.

Overcoming Burnout without Backing Down

Moderator: How do you deal with burnout when things don't go your way and you feel set back?

Daniel: Sitting here today, I clearly realized for the first time when I decided to work with nature—this is a moment of clarity I've never experienced before.

I remember a time when my father lost his job. He was already over fifty, so it was unlikely he could find another job. I remembered him once telling me that he wanted to be a farmer, to return to the rural mountain area where he was born. So I told him, "Now is your time. Do it. Go." The next day I saw his eyes shining. He had decided — he moved back to where he was born and became a farmer. I feel that Mother Earth was calling my father.

And by being with him through that process, something awakened in me. At the time, I wasn't aware that this was the moment I began to connect deeply with nature — with my ancestors, with the land they came from. Only now do I realize how much that act changed my life. So when I feel burned out, I return to that connection—with my ancestors, with my father — who has passed away — and with that experience of being called by Mother Earth.

▲ Young climate leaders from the West were delighted to engage with the student monks, sharing how they find meaning in life through their own actions.
Shephali: Honestly, I'm kind of the poster child for burnout. In my work, what I do is take something formless — just an idea or a spark of curiosity — and bring it into form very quickly. But once something takes form, attachments come just as quickly. And once attachments appear, everything suddenly becomes serious. And that's the danger zone.
Because all that seriousness is built on two lies — two untruths.

The first lie is: I'm in control. When I believe that and things don't go the way I imagine, tension arises.
The second lie is: They need me. That I have to be there, do everything, hold it all together.

But the truth is that: I'm not in control. Everything is beyond my control. My only job is to show up — to show up with integrity, aligned with my values, and with love and compassion. So the antidote to all that seriousness is humor and laughter — remembering why things were fun, why I started doing this work.

The best thing I ever did when things got too serious was simply to leave. I moved across the country — from one ocean to another — because I dreamed of living in a land where the ocean, the forest, the mountain, and the desert all meet. And I found that place. I moved there and slept outside every night for five months. I knew nothing about astronomy, but by sleeping under the sky, I eventually learned the constellations — I could tell the time of night just by looking up. I grew up in the city — I had never seen stars like that. And there was no teacher — it was pure presence.

It taught me two things: First, anything is possible. I knew nothing, yet by simply being with the cosmos, I learned from it. Second, the world needs our joy. As I watched the forest, the ocean, the sky — I could feel them watching me back, loving me back. That's how we are needed — through our joy, our happiness, our love. That's what nourishes the world. That's what, in the end, will save us all. So that's what keeps me going.

The Inner Connection to Climate Change

Student 5: Before I entered the monastery, I was a science teacher — I have a teaching qualification and taught science in primary school. But I felt that public education wasn't enough — not for me, and not for the children. While studying for my master's degree in science education, I encountered Buddhism and its teachings. Later, I began to follow Master Sheng Yen's videos on Chan meditation, and I became deeply fascinated by the practice.

Through meditation, I've learned to observe how my mind works. Once, during meditation, I had a deeper experience — I felt people around me became kinder, more friendly. I realized everyone is just like me — sentient beings. Even the environment — when I open my heart and senses, I no longer see separation. Everything feels equal — no high or low, no difference. When I'm under stress, I look into my own mind. I calm down and relax. I feel that Buddhism and Chan meditation help me reduce vexations little by little.

And I'd like to ask a question, since our topic today is The Inner Dimensions of Climate Change, what is the relationship between your inner dimensions — your inner mind — and the natural environment?

Student 6:
I studied my master's in climate change communication in Ireland. When I studied climate change, I realized how overwhelming it is — such a vast, difficult subject. That was one of the things that led me toward Buddhism. Because trying to think my way through climate change — to solve it with intellect alone — felt impossible. For me, my academic training was all in the mind — in the history of science — but it felt incomplete. So my question is: in your respective fields, how do you see the role of spiritual practice or meditation?

Student 7: Even though I've always been a city boy, now that I live here in the mountains surrounded by nature — everything is so beautiful —I still don't feel connected to nature. I don’t know what to do to feel the interconnection with all beings, with the environment.

Daniel: When I was a climate-change negotiator in Paris, I led the education topic, and everything was stuck. No agreement after eight days of negotiations. Each topic had its own group, but none had reached consensus.

One day, I was with the head of the delegation. I had brought some special stones from my country, and I said a small prayer. He saw me, sat beside me, and silently joined. That day, we reached our first agreement —the very first issue in the entire climate negotiation to reach consensus. And after that, agreements began to flow on other topics too. I felt that my inner intention had an effect on those around me.

Once, during a training with Joanna Macy on The Work That Reconnects, I was alone in the forest and got lost for hours. There were wild lions there. I became afraid. So I prayed, "Mother Nature, help me, guide me." Then a crow flew by. I followed it — it led me to a spot I was looking for.

But later I got lost again. I prayed once more — "Mother Nature, guide me again." Another crow appeared, flying the opposite way. I hesitated, but I decided to trust, and followed. It turned out to be a shortcut — it led me right back to where I needed to be. From that moment, I learned: Ask — and nature responds.

You Are Inherently Nature
 
Shephali: First, I'll address the question of "not being able to feel a connection with nature." In fact, you're already in relationship with nature — because you are nature. Once you understand that, you realize it's a relationship, which means it needs process and care. So I teach a simple four-step practice to both children and adults.

Whenever you see another being — a frog, a plant, even a person — ask yourself four questions:

1. How are we similar?
2. How are we different?
3. How can your differences teach me something?
4. What can I give you to express gratitude for your teachings?

Try it. Because the more you do it, the more you see the being in front of you — and also see yourself, your biases, and your assumptions. It doesn't have to be magical or mysterious — that is the connection.
▲ The student monks used the opportunity for exchange to reflect on the path they have chosen and how to continue walking it with determination.  
Climate Change as a Manifestation of "Disease"
 
As for the role of mindfulness and spirituality in climate work, first, we need to admit that in public discourse, we're not being honest about what climate change really is. At its root, it's a manifestation of disease. And one of the foundations of that disease is violence. Not only physical violence, but systemic — built into our industries, economies, even our schools. They all contain subtle forms of harm — toward others, ourselves, and the planet. Because we are nature, that violence extends to all of nature.

And the strategy of our age is storytelling — we use stories and narratives to mask what's actually happening, to confuse ourselves. So for me, spirituality and mindfulness are essential — because they help us see through the masks,
to recognize how these systems are conditioning our minds, and to return to the values that truly matter.

Only then can we talk accurately about the problem — and only by seeing it clearly can we begin to address it wisely. So, in my view, spirituality and mindfulness are not optional. They are core, critical, essential if we want to do this work of addressing climate change and creating the beautiful futures we hope to live in.

Reem: I just want to give you a real-life example. In Bahrain, we're the only country in the world that bans the sale, trade, or production of cultured pearls. The reason goes back to our rich pearling history. In the ancient Dilmun era — thousands of years ago — Gilgamesh, a legendary Sumerian king who travels across seas in search of the seed of immortality, is said to journey to Bahrain. He believed that seed was the pearls growing around our islands.

Now, most people believe that a pearl is formed when a grain of sand enters the oyster's shell. But that's not entirely true. In reality, a pearl forms because the oyster is sick. It's a kind of tumor almost like cancer. What happens is that there's an infection in the oyster's body. The inner side of the shell — that shiny, white, beautiful surface called "mother of pearl" — the oyster starts to coat and surround the infected area. It secretes layer after layer of nacre around the wound, completely covering and isolating the diseased part. And the aim, actually, is to spit it out into the sea — not to keep it inside the body. It's exactly like us humans. When we're sick, we need to release what's inside. If we have mucus, we expel it. If our stomach's upset, we let it out.

But in order to produce more pearls, humans force oysters to become sick, harming them again and again. We cut them, irritate them, and infect them until their bodies can no longer produce and they die. Why? Because we think it's beautiful. Because it's valuable. We look at pearls and say, "How beautiful." But it is a beauty bought with suffering.

But nature responds. Oysters are disappearing naturally, all over the world. And the oyster's role in the ecosystem is to filter the ocean, to clean the water. When oysters die off, that natural purification system is lost. So what does that say about us as humans? As Shefali said, these manifestations are caused by us. Everything used to be in balance. But our greed, our addiction to violence, our constant hunger for "more, more, more" — because nothing is ever enough — is what drives our environment to collapse.

Gardening Is a Gateway to Connecting with Nature

Alex: Another interesting thing about oysters — when their shells wash ashore, they're actually a great source of calcium for soil and gardening. So not only do they filter the sea, they also nourish the land.  It reminds me that everything on Earth — in the universe, really — has a purpose in relation to its environment.
 
About how to feel a connection to nature — I have to admit, I don't feel any mystical connection with nature. So I don't have a good answer to the question. But I can share a few thoughts.

For me, gardening has become a small "portal" into what I imagine a meditative state might feel like. It's a very tangible, sacred, ancient way of connecting with the Earth — planting a seed and patiently tending its growth. I often tell my students: "our role as gardeners is to support and steward the life of plants, so that they in turn can support and sustain our lives — by giving us food and medicine". It's a reciprocal relationship. It's not just taking; it's giving and receiving — a kind of call and response with the Earth.

Something I've really come to love about gardening is compost. Actually, "compost" is a noun, but it's really a process. It's a process of constant change, transformation, life and death, life and death again. To me, that ongoing cycle — life, death, change — is one of the most intimate truths of existence.

Similarly, there's a Chan Buddhist principle I've heard this week that really resonates with me: everything is in constant change. Everything changes. And I believe that's a fundamental truth of existence. You can see it everywhere. For example, this stage we are on, is made of wood, that came from living tree's. The chairs you're sitting on — are also made of wood, and cotton — that cotton came from a plant, which was nourished by soil - that soil came from other plants that once died and decomposed. And all of it will eventually return to the Earth and the cosmos - which, as Shefali said earlier, was once stardust.And it will become stardust again.

Sometimes I feel that realization in my head, sometimes in my hands, and there are moments when it really hits me — wow, me too. I too will die. My body will one day return to the same wholeness that it originally came from.
Even right now, as I say this, I can feel heat in my body — that's the feeling of interconnection. That realization: I am this chair, this water, this plant.

I don't really have a meditation practice, but I imagine what I am describing is somewhat similar to what people feel when the mind settles during meditation —when thoughts fade away and you reach something essential.
For me, I access that through my hands — through working with soil, with the Earth.
Maybe that is my meditation? And I think what's valuable is recognizing that, though the form of practice differs — across cultures, traditions, individuals — what's shared is this reaching beyond the self, to recognize how deeply we are interwoven and interdependent with everything.
 
Everything Begins with Care
 
Moderator: I don't need to say much more about climate change — they've already covered it beautifully. But let me draw out one key point I hope you've seen in them —what connects their work, and ours. How do they have this deep connection with nature? One word: care.

Because when you care, you stop seeing climate change as something "out there." It becomes part of you. That's what we mean by the inner dimensions of climate change. It's not about external weather — it's about internalizing everything, cultivating care.

That's why I started this panel by asking you, "Why did you choose this monastic path?" Because you care. You have to care. That’s the starting point of everything.

As you heard from their stories — because they care, they see Dharma everywhere. Once you care, you begin to see phenomena everywhere — not a goal, not an identity or social role. It's not outside of you. It's you.

Let me give a quick example from my own experience. When Shifu first assigned me the project of establishing DDMBA as an NGO at the UN, I treated it as an external task — just a mission to complete. But along the way, I lost myself. I was chasing a goal and forgot my center. Eventually, I burned out, crashed — and then broke through. Because the moment that mission became part of me, everything changed.

That's why we say: you are nature. When it becomes you, the strength comes from within. You don't need recognition or validation from the outside — the power is inner. No matter what challenges arise, you turn inward, reflect, face your fears, and find that strength. You begin to see obstacles as opportunities.

As monastics, each of you has a vow, right? That vow power will open doors — in ways you could never expect. And it's your choice whether you step through them. Because each step builds capacity — your shoulders grow broader than what your mind believes they can bear. None of these friends originally planned to become who they are today. But because they cared, that inner strength arose naturally. And I believe you can be that too. Thank you.
 


Related articles: 

Climate Change: A Turning Point for Awakening

Alex Epstein - Urban Gardener Planting ‘Relationships’

Reem AlMealla - Bahrain’s First Female Oceanographer

Daniel Abreu Mejía - An Educator Empowering Climate Youth

Gregory Scott Pettys - A Scholar Preserving Seeds

Shephali Patel - A Farmer Who Learns from the Forest

Sow the seeds, transform yourself


Resource: Issue 512 of Humanity Magazine, Dharma Drum Publishing Corporation