Tag: Houston

Neverland

We live in Neverland, or so we have convinced ourselves. This could never happen. That could never happen. I could never do that. We will never do that. And on and on. But is it true? Who decides what is possible and what is not? We so often point to the “system” these days and throw our hands up in the air. Everyone knows that the system is the problem. Although we don’t agree on the nature of that problem, we do agree that it simply cannot be changed. The course of history is set in stone. All I’m asking is… are we sure?

So many “I could never do that’s,” so little time. It seems to me that I am not wasting any! This past week I have been on a, let’s call it hectic, adventure running here and there. It wasn’t meant to be quite as hectic as it has turned out, but then again- that’s life! Sometimes. I was supposed to head down to Houston to celebrate my parents’ birthdays, squeeze in a few business meetings, and catch up with friends. Then I would hop a plane to Colorado for some business with the U.S. Department of Energy before returning home to Vermont. That was the plan.

Let’s start with the fact that I was very nervous about this plan. My nervousness wasn’t based on my itinerary, per se, it was based on one simple fact- I still have a goatee. If you need a recap as to why, revisit my post “Hairy.” When I wrote that post I was early into growing out my goatee and still had a long list of things I could never do with it ahead of me. I wasn’t sure if I was going to face those fears or not, and I gave myself full permission not to. Here is a partial list of things I could never do:

I could never interview for a job with a goatee.

I could never get on an airplane with a goatee.

I could never go to Houston with a goatee.

I could never face my parents with a goatee.

I could never go to an important business meeting with a goatee.

I’m sure I could list a million things, because the truth is that just about every other thing gives me some form of angst. The thing is that I just didn’t know how deeply ingrained this effort to hide myself has been, nor how successful it’s been. So you can see that this trip invoked a whole slew of my deepest fears. I honestly wasn’t sure if or how I would face them. True to course, I had a complete panic attack the day before I was supposed to leave. Understand that my goatee is now quite prevalent. It’s unavoidable. It makes me highly visible in the exact way that I don’t like to be. People notice me. Ugh.

Mostly what happens is that at first people see my hair hair (the hair growing from my head rather than my face & chin) which is blonde and quite long at this point. Due to that and my stature they immediately register “woman.” Then they catch sight of my goatee and there is this visible moment of complete disconnect. It’s simple cognitive dissonance. They naturally go to their memory banks for an image that they can utilize to make sense of what they are seeing… and there is none. Nope, no images of women with goatees in there for most folks. I get it. It’s interesting to watch it. I am learning not to be bothered by it. It’s nothing personal. Uncomfortable, yes. Personal, no. It gives me an opportunity to work on holding an empathetic space for an expanded sense of possibilities. It gives others, of course, an expanded sense of possibilities for their memory banks. All of that is interesting and doable.

But then there are the wounded parts of myself. The parts of myself that have faced judgement and rejection are not quite so empathetic. That part of myself wants to crawl under a rock, or perhaps kill you. That part of myself feels the sting if that look of confusion turns into any sort of judgy stare or even glare… which on occasion it has. One might ask why in the hell I would subject myself to this. Those were, in fact, the first and only words out of my father’s mouth, “Why are you doing this?” Sometimes, I wonder that too! Yet I know why. So here is your answer. I am doing this to allow the wounded parts of myself space to be felt, expressed, seen, and healed. I am lucky that I have such a tangible means through which to invoke all of the small ideas about the world (and therefore me) that oppressed me in the first place.

Why on earth we humans decided that women are not beautiful as they naturally occur is beyond me. I don’t understand this. Growing up in Houston, Texas and the South in general comes with certain expectations if not demands when it comes to how females are supposed to appear. I never felt comfortable filling that image. This is mostly because I find it to be unnatural, when in fact I appreciate the beauty of raw nature. I think women are beautiful – more beautiful- without all of the masks. I was trained to wear makeup at age 13. I won’t even get into hairstyling. Then there are the clothes, the mannerisms, the not being too assertive or too smart, and on and on and on. Yuck. I found it oppressive, and confusing.

Yet by the time I arrived on the East Coast to start college I would never even think of walking out of my dorm room without a full face of makeup on. That is, until I noticed that for the first time in my life, most of the other women on campus were not wearing makeup. Hallelujah!!! Let freedom ring!!! I stopped it all immediately… the makeup, the hairstyling, all of it. By my junior year I had cut my hair boyishly short. Returning to Houston in this condition was, well, nerve racking to say the least. This is to say that I have dealt with this anxiety before. While nobody had a problem identifying me as a woman on the East Coast, I was routinely asked if I was in the wrong bathroom back in Houston. Ugh. Why can’t you see me??? Do you understand that the messaging is that women are not beautiful just as they are? This is to say that we are not good enough. While I think we have made progress on this front over the last 25 years, we are not there yet. So, yes, I am growing out my goatee as a declaration. Here it is: “I am beautiful just as I am.” Well, that, and… “I don’t give a damn if you don’t agree with me!” Mind you, I have to muster a lot of gumption day in and day out to hold this messaging in my mind. The world has done quite a good job of convincing me otherwise.

Now for that list of never coulds. I have chosen one by one, step by step, to keep facing them. Two weeks ago I went to a job interview with goatee a flowing. This wasn’t just any job interview either. This was THE interview… you know, the one for the perfect job that I have been jockeying for for three years now- a teaching job in the Architecture Department at Middlebury College. Granted, the interview was just for a short, temporary gig for Winter Term. But still. If I didn’t pass this test then I would’t be considered for a permanent position later on. My every last nerve went berserk- complete panic attack. There is some part of me though that is ready and willing to fight for me, to stand up for me, to take back complete control over my own narrative. This part of me said, “You are doing it.” So I did. Although I do have to admit to crying en route to my interview. But you know what, in spite of that initial awkward moment of cognitive dissonance, the interview went great. And… I got the job!

Next stop, Houston. Passing the job interview test helped some, but it didn’t stop me from having a panic attack all over again. In these moments I just stare at myself in the mirror trying to be o.k. with it all and wondering if I can. Then I remind myself that the point is to be uncomfortable, to get the very reflections from others that I am trying to move past. This helps me to invite those reflections rather than trying to hide from them. After some serious deliberations I psyched myself up to move ahead with it. Then the storm came. Tropical Storm Imelda that is. The night before I was supposed to leave, the storm was predicted to make landfall and flood Houston. It is impossible to play dice with the weather. No matter what you do, you loose. I ended up changing my flight to a day later in hopes that the worst of it would be over by then. Of course that didn’t happen. Instead the storm stalled out and arrived a day late and the very thing that I was trying to avoid- getting stranded in Newark- happened. Nature will have her way.

At first my flight was only delayed, or so they thought. I took my extra time at the airport to pull out my computer and start something that I have been meaning to start for some time now, to the point that it had been nagging me like a pesky five year old for days. Sitting there with the Manhattan skyline in full view, I started to write my book. Yes, you heard it here first, folks. Book is in progress. Then they cancelled my flight.

Fortunately, I have friends in Jersey- Mary, my best friend from college, to be specific. She lives in Princeton so I texted her to ask what our plans were for the evening. It turns out that we were heading to Philly for a screening of her husband Jim’s trailer for the movie he is working on. Take that, Imelda! Actually, here is what I really think. I really think that nature takes very good care of us and this was a case in point. Not only did I get to see one of my best friends, but I also got to see Jim’s family who I hadn’t seen since they got married, well, let’s just say some time ago! It was so great. They were all so, so happy to see me and we had a marvelous time together. And it was all so damn comforting, which is exactly what I needed in that moment. The following day I was supposed to be attending the climate strike in Houston with one of my close friends there. I instead went to the one in Princeton. No harm, no foul. And for the record, go, Greta!

As I walked through the Princeton campus to catch the Dinky (train) back to Newark, something dawned on me. Just the day before I had sat looking out at the Manhattan skyline recalling how much I love NYC and have felt at home there since my days at Princeton, even though I have never lived there. Then I ended up at Princeton, which most definitely has been and feels like home to me. Now I was heading back to Houston, the home where I grew up and have spent the majority of my life. From there I would be heading back to Denver, Colorado, which is my family’s home and where my grandparents had always lived during my life. This trip was quite literally walking me back through my entire history, step by step. Such a strange turn of events. Yet it mirrored exactly what I have been doing, walking myself back step by step by step.

When I landed in Houston, what can I say, there it was right out of the gate…. the glare. The glare of a white middle aged male as I walked past him to get to the rental car shuttle. He turned his head a full 180 degrees keeping his eyes on me as I walked past just to make sure that he maximized his full glaring opportunity. I paid no mind. Look, Houston, I know it isn’t everybody, but the truth is that you have some work to do still. You have some work to do on multiple fronts, in fact- social, economic, and ecological to name a few. I get to say this and call attention to it because I am a native. I have earned that right having called Houston home for the last 50 years. It’s true that I have more to say to you than to most places, but that is because I know you best. We are family. I see you for who you are, as you are, in your naked truth. Yes, you are naturally beautiful and full of potential, but as I shared with my greenie friends at brunch on Sunday, it is way past time for you to face your shadows so that your true beauty can shine through. I am not convinced that you will, but I’ll keep cheering for you- from a safe distance.

Most people don’t know what to say about my goatee, so they choose to say nothing. That is how most people, and my friends in particular, show their support. They choose not to make a big deal about it. I am still trying to figure out how to open up conversation about it myself. For the time being, I also choose not to say anything and proceed as I normally would. But you know what has been the best reaction so far, besides the complete loving support that I have received from Shannon, that is? My very good friend Amanda leaned over to me during brunch amidst a whole table of friends and whispered “I love your scruffy.” I just had to say that. Thank you, Amanda! That put a huge smile in my heart.

Finally the last leg of this little adventure landed me in Colorado where I have been doing some important work with the U.S. Department of Energy. I am still in Colorado as I write. All I can say is that I was so tired by the time that I got here that I couldn’t even begin to care anymore… at least not about my goatee! I care deeply about the work that we are doing and feel so grateful that I am able to make a meaningful contribution and that I am trusted to do so. I have many friends in the DOE and you know what, not a single one of them seemed to care one iota about my goatee. They cared quite a lot, however, about what I had to say. They also care quite a lot about me personally and how things are going in my life. The feeling and respect is mutual. And it is this way because we all show up with authenticity and genuine care for each other and for the planet.

Nature is as it is. I am as I am. You are as you are. All three statements are related. I noticed something as I walked through Princeton, then Houston, then a short hike this afternoon in Colorado. I noticed the air. The air is distinct and familiar to me in each place. In each place it has a particular feel, a particular buoyancy, a particular smell. Each one was familiar to me and each one felt like home to me in its own way. That is because the air of each place is embodied in me. It is embodied in me in the way that my body has adapted to it. It is embodied in me in the fact that it has delivered breath and life to me. It is embodied in me in the way that it has delivered molecules that have literally been incorporated into my own body. There is no escaping that we are one with this place and with each other.

Now to end this little story with my original line of questioning. Are we sure that everything is set in stone? I notice that I am evolving, even though I am fundamentally the same person that I have always been and even though I am interdependent on the places and the people who have informed my life. I notice that Houston is evolving, even if not as quickly as I think it must. I notice that humanity is evolving, even if it looks like we are moving backwards these days. More than anything, I notice that we have written the rules that guide what we call “the system.” Nobody outside of ourselves decided that women should wear makeup and should not have goatees. We did that. If you still think that women should not have goatees, all I can say to you is that I have one- quite naturally- and I am a woman. Guess what? We have full power to rewrite ourselves, to rewrite the rules that we have written, to drop what no longer serves us, and to write a new ending/beginning. How do we do so? Step one: face our shadows. Do whatever it takes. Grow out that goatee (metaphorically speaking) if necessary!

Houston, …

We all know how this story goes. Yes, we have a problem. Our problem is appearing in a million different ways, making it seem like a million different problems- environmental, social, economic, political, relational, personal, physical, emotional, psychological, and on and on and on. But it’s just one problem. And it’s my problem every bit as much as it is yours. It’s the root of all of our problems. We have forgotten who we are. At least that’s one of the easiest ways to say it. 

Now maybe you are thinking you know exactly who you are. I myself have a pretty good sense of who I am. Of course there are all of the activities that have defined my sense of self: student, gymnast, hockey player, coach, architect, professor, etc. and so on. Then there’s the resume stuff: accomplishments, degrees, awards, positions, affiliations, credentials, etc. and so on. Then there are my relationships: child, sister, parent, friend, mentor, colleague, partner, soul mate. Let’s not forget my possessions: lake house, tiny house, mountain (well, halfish a one anyway), car, phone, computer, clothes, etc. and so on. Put all of these things together and my identity looks pretty darn solid. You might look at me and think that’s one sturdy self you got there. Sure. Of course it is. I’ve spent almost 50 years building it. Have I mentioned that I am an overachiever?

Yet none of what I just mentioned really tells you anything about me. I am actually none of the above. And that’s just the first thing. The only way to get any sense for who I am is to be in relationship with me. There you will begin to find the real stuff of me: my passions, my feelings, my thoughts, my patterns, my energy, my wounds, my joys, my triumphs, my presence, etc. and so on. In other words, being in relationship with me gives you insight into my actual experience of life. My experience is unique, just as is yours. Is this, then, the realm of our true selves? Am I my experience? I think that for most of us, our identity does tend to get stuck in the realm of experience. This is to say that how we experience life tends to define who we think we are. More about this some other time.

Whatever the case, we have a dying need to know who we are. For certain. Where do I end and everything else begin? This isn’t simply an individual phenomenon, it’s also a collective one. So you could say that a family, an organization, a company, a team, a city also form identities in all of the ways mentioned above. Houston has many identities: Space City, Bayou City, Clutch City, H-Town, Screwston, etc. And then there’s the branding. This is what we promote in an effort to control how others perceive us. My branding would hopefully lead you to perceive me as somebody who cares deeply about environmental and social justice issues. Houston’s current branding is “The Energy Capital of the World.” Mind you, this was a deliberate replacement of the previous brand name “The Oil Capital of the World.” Well, nobody needs to explain why the change. Identity is important. It’s how we navigate the world, currently anyway. My question is, how much stock should we really put in it? 

Ah, Houston, you are such an easy target. That is to say, I’m not buying it. And mind you, I am a native Houstonian. In fact, in so many ways I am Houston. But now I am getting ahead of myself. Just understand that I am in a very real sense calling myself out in saying what needs to be said in this moment- “Energy Capital of the World” my ass. No. Not. Not even close. Houston, you are still very much the Oil Capital of the World. You do not get to transition from oil to energy until you actually do the work to do so. Sorry. When the Exxon Mobiles of the world start taking this transition seriously, then I’ll bite. 

For now, I think that it is critical that we all work to see ourselves clearly. This is as true for each of us individually as it is for us collectively. Who am I? Well, if we are talking about my little self- the embodied, relative, human version of me- then the best way to tell who I am is to look for my patterns. For example, I have a tendency toward overachievement. To get to who I really am, just follow the overachievement to the root of it. There you will find a vulnerable, unconfident, insecure, shy, hurt little girl who figured the only way to survive was to succeed. So I did. But if you want to really know me, you have to get to know that little girl. Who is she and what is she really after? You know the answer. We all know the answer. Love. That is both the who and the what of it. The irony, of course, is that who we are is what we are after not realizing that we are already it. 

But back to Houston. Houston, in looking at your patterns what I see is flooding. You know why? Houston is a swamp. Let’s be real. I see unbridled exploitation of resources. You know why? The city was founded on speculation… in the spirit of the wild west. Now before you all join me in throwing stones at Houston, stop. Stop because not only am I Houston (and stones hurt!), but we are all Houston. Houston is, unequivocally, the epicenter of our current world paradigm. Don’t think so? Just follow your own wealth, or the lack thereof, and you will find it is rooted in the discovery of none other than black gold. Oil. Oil was discovered just a stones throw away from Houston. Now these two patterns that I have mentioned are entirely related. Houston is a swamp because it used to be ocean. It was built up over time by the layering of dead organic matter from the sea under the erosion of mountains delivered via rivers. Layer upon layer. Throw some salt in there too. Add a ton of time and pressure and walla! The energy of the sun, having been collected by organic matter, is turned into the most dense storage of energy the world has ever known. And it made us all rich (generally speaking). 

Well, we all know how this story goes. Houston, we have a problem. Some of the most extraordinary minds in the world are working on what to do about it. Some are still not, in large part because their wealth is rooted in the oil economy and they have yet to realize that their pensions are about as real as Enron’s were. Listen, I get it. This is hard stuff. Do you want to know how Houston I really am? My family moved to Houston when I was six months old to chase the dream of black gold. My father is a geophysicist. He was quite good at finding the stuff. I am a pure product of the “Oil Capital of the World.” I know the place like the back of my hand. Not only did it shape my every experience, and therefore me, but I have studied it’s patterns for 30 years now. 

This all leads me to what I need to say in this moment. Houston, after 50 years, I have left. I have left you for higher ground. I am in so many ways a privileged climate refugee. It’s embarrassing to even say that. I had the means and the vision to move out of harm’s way. So I did. I am gone. Yet I have not abandoned you. Not at all. I am Houston. I always will be. I will always keep one hand reaching back for you. So here is what that hand looks like. The most important thing to know is that we have to shift the story. We can no longer focus on the problem. For as long as we focus on the problem, we stay stuck in the very way of thinking that produced the problem. This isn’t news! 

We must instead look for the potential. The key to finding the potential is to follow the patterns. Follow the patterns all the way back to the very thing that was being sought in the first place. What was it? What were we after? What was this place after? What is it really about? What is its essence? What is it really wanting to be? What would it be if it achieved its full glory (potential)? Maybe it is the energy capital of the world, maybe it isn’t. What does that mean anyway? I mean really mean…at the deepest level that we can think about it. If it is wealth we are after, then what is true wealth? Houston, the world is looking upon you now more than ever to solve the problem. I am telling you not to offer a solution. Rise above the problem instead. Move into a new potential like only you can. Just make sure that this new potential creates real wealth (for everyone and everything), rather than the slippery black slope that we have been down. Henceforth let us say, “Houston, we have potential.” 

Parades and Porches

As an introvert, it’s easy to get the feeling that I am watching from the sidelines. I am and I’m not, but because I keep a low-key profile, it’s easy to feel invisible and expendable. Then again, as I have mentioned before I don’t like being the center of attention so invisibility is often my preferred state. But it is also true that I lowkey want to be connected in a meaningful and impactful way. Time out. Did you just notice my use of the latest lingo??? I’m highkey proud of myself that this near fifty year old can understand what my students are freakin saying half of the freakin time! Of course the rest of the time I lowkey just have to look it up…

Back to my point. It’s easy to think that I could just slip out the back jack and nobody would notice. Of course this is crazy talk. We are about to slip out the back jack of Houston and what is in fact happening is everyone is freaking out. Shannon and I have in a relatively quiet way ingrained ourself into the fabric here. As a case in point, we will momentarily be heading out to our world famous Art Car Parade. This is a huge event in Houston. It would be quite easy to be an anonymous spectator in the crowd. That would be our typical m.o. at such a thing. As for art car folks, let’s just say they are more than a bit flamboyant, which is to say the opposite of us. You wouldn’t expect to find us in that crowd. And yet… there we are. We are personal friends with several of the best of them. We have even been in the Art Car Parade, as we pulled Tiny Drop through a few years ago. Today will be a huge celebration not only of the creativity and hard work that has gone into this year’s entries, but also of the network of relationships that we have cultivated here.

It’s slightly funny, because Houston is like the wild west in which autonomy is everything. Houston’s motto might as well be “Don’t tell me what I can and cannot do.” Actually, the Art Car Parade is one of our better manifestations of that attitude. And yet, in this extreme quest to be different, to be unrestrained, to be free, what has in fact developed is this intense sense of community. It’s surprising, actually, that such a deep connectivity can be found in this place. Mind you, you have to work for it. But some people do. And I suppose, in a way, that makes it feel more special. There is a paradox of course in all of this. My ACIM (A Course in Miracles) lesson for today says in part this (which I am interpreting for my own digestibility):

“All things we perceive are upside down until we listen to the Voice for God (the non-reductionist all-knowingness of the All that Is). It seems that we will gain autonomy but by our striving to be separate, and that our independence from the rest of God’s creation (all of existence) is the way in which salvation (freedom, joy, enlightenment) is obtained. Yet all we find is sickness, suffering and loss and death. (In truth,) to join with His (the will of the All That Is) is to find our own (will, creativity, freedom).”

Let me explain. This is to say that we find freedom not by seeking independence, but rather by celebrating and cultivating our inherent interdependence. If this seems counterintuitive, think of it this way: love = connection. And there is nothing more free than the pure state of Love.

This weekend I am feeling the love. Also at this very moment the Department of Energy Race to Zero Competition is taking place at the National Renewable Energy Lab in Golden, Colorado. My students and I have been a fixture at this competition for the last five years. We have been not so lowkey celebrities at this event having been two time champions. It’s a fierce world-class competition, but you know what… more than that it is a place in which both my students and I have developed some world-class, life-long friendships and colleagues. My two closest academic colleagues, collaborators, and really great friends who make me so happy every time I talk to them, Mary Rogero from Miami University and Jonathan Bean from Arizona, are there right now competing with their students. My students and I are not there this year, for reasons I won’t explain. Mary and Jonathan have been emphatic over the last few weeks that they wish I was going to be there and that they are going to miss me. And I know they are not alone in that. I, for one, am also missing what has become for me a great celebration of generations of people coming together to work for humanity’s salvation. Godspeed to all of those “competing” right now. I know that regardless of whether or not they walk away with a trophy, they will walk away knowing that the work that they are doing in the world is priceless.

Well that was yesterday. The brief update is that this morning Mary’s teams won first place in one division and a best undergrad project in another. My day stated with a huge smile for her and her students! That, and the fact that both she and Jonathan texted me to tell me that they could see the influence of our grand winning project from last year in many of this year’s projects. It’s not often that we get to see the impact of the work that we do. It’s especially rare to get to see it rippling out across the universe. My typical m.o. is to gloss over such things. Not today. Today, I am standing in the grace of the power of our interbeingness.

Last but not least, here is my porch story. Remember my close friends and colleagues who I left behind up at school a few weeks ago because I needed to go home for some self care? One of them is Kathleen English and another Amanda Tullos. Amanda, Kathleen, and her husband Steve Setlzer, have been the core of our green team in Houston. They are all architects, incidentally. We have had a tradition of a monthly brunch on the porch for awhile now. Today was our last brunch on the porch before we go. I so love these people. I love them for their bravery in the face of a city that doesn’t really want to change its ways. I love them for the integrity that they bring to all that they do. I love them for how much they care even though it hurts. I love them for how freakin smart they are in navigating through all landmines toward a viable future. I love them for telling it like it is. I love them for understanding that nothing matters without the cultivation of deep interconnectivity between us. I love them for the love and support that they have given me. I love them for believing in me and standing by me no matter what. I know that this is not goodbye. But it is most certainly a moment to stop and be grateful for all of the parades and porches that have bound us together in love.