Hello, world! As you may have noticed, I have been a bit absent here this past month. Sometimes we just need a break. I didn’t actually plan to take this one, it just kind of happened as one week slipped into the next without writing my blog. As I think about it, some of it was just taking time and space for myself to reflect and reset. Some of it was a process of welcoming in and adjusting to winter, which came early here in Vermont this year. In part it is because I am working intensely on my book at the moment as well, and that means a whole lot of researching and writing. On the book front, after enjoying a flowing start to that process, I ran into a big swamp of quick sand (difficult topics and complexities) that I have been patiently wading through and doing my best not to fight.
Actually, life in general has felt a bit like that this month as I have been largely drawn inward and snuggled up at home. Every project that I am working on felt difficult in some way, like it needed a pause. That’s more than a little disconcerting for somebody like me who tends to be pushing, pushing, pushing all the time. I also haven’t had a whole lot of interaction with anyone other than Shannon. As an introvert, I easily get comfortable in that mode… and then I don’t want to go out or interact with anyone. More on this in a minute.
But rather than simply gloss over the last month, I’ll share one aspect of it. For a long time now I have been wanting to take control of my retirement investments. Now here is what you need to know about me. My retirement plan has always been to “live naked on a mountaintop.” I have literally said this anytime anyone has asked about it since I reached adulthood. My attitude on this is partly because architects don’t make a lot of money, and I certainly haven’t for most of my career. Yet it isn’t just that. The bigger picture is that something about the whole saving for and working for retirement thing doesn’t resonate with me. This thinking and strategy is part of a system that I have never fully bought into. It’s like waiting until we are practically dead to start living. That’s ridiculous. More generally, I’ve just never been that into money (if I were I would never have chosen architecture as a profession in the first place because we were warned profusely in school that we would not be getting rich.) Yet in spite of my not overly caring about my retirement funds, I have accrued some nonetheless.
The other thing to know about me is that I happen to be a pretty powerful manifestor. Perhaps you see where this is going. That mountain… we already own it. We even have a tiny house on it. We have more work to do on it and would have to make some adjustments to be able to live there during winter, but it could be done. It wouldn’t exactly be easy living during winter, but it could be done. So if I am not careful, I am going to end up naked on that mountaintop!! Let me just say for the record, Universe, clothes would be nice… and some shoes. Maybe a warm coat.
Now back to those retirement funds. I don’t have anything near what somebody my age is supposed to have. What I do have has been sitting there neglected, by me at least, for all these years. It would be one thing if I had entrusted them to somebody who I trust- somebody who understands my values. That has not been the case. Some of my funds have been in a Vanguard fund through my SEP-IRA, some have been in my old employer’s 401k, and some are now in the Texas Teacher Retirement System. That last one is like a black hole of retirement funds- I have no idea how those funds are invested and there is no possibility of me moving them out. But the first two I could do something about, and I had procrastinated doing something about it for way too long. This past spring I started what has been a long, arduous process of moving and taking control of my retirement savings. Remember I have never cared about any of this stuff, so I have never taken the time to learn about investing, stocks, etc. and so on. I couldn’t be bothered… until I was.
What really started bothering me is the fact that money that I had earned was being used to support companies that don’t align with my values. I couldn’t ignore it any longer, so I have taken the past six months to get up to speed so that I could responsibly take over management of my own funds. I can now happily say that I have consolidated what I could into my own individual 401k, and that I have carefully chosen every single mutual fund, ETS, REIT, bond, and stock that now makes up a diversified portfolio that reflects my values. That means that I am divested from fossil fuels. It also means that I am invested in renewable energy, in technology that we will need to transition to a more sustainable world, and in more sustainable building materials, just to name a few sectors. I’m not going to lie, it took a ton of reading and research. I wouldn’t necessarily recommend that everyone take this on themselves.
I would, however, encourage everyone to check that their investments are in alignment with their values and with the world that they hope to manifest. There are tools to help you do this. For starters, if you want to see where you stand relative to fossil fuels, go to this website: https://fossilfreefunds.org. You can enter the name of any fund or ETS you own to see how it scores. If you aren’t happy with it and if you have control over your retirement account investments, change it. That part isn’t that hard if you are just wanting to invest in a fund or an ETS. If your retirement savings are in a company-managed fund, then that website will also guide you on how to advocate for a change. There are other similar websites that score funds on social equity issues and the like. As for me, my retirement funds are now in alignment with what I hope to manifest. That’s important, lest I end up living out my life in a world that I didn’t actually intend.
I try to make sure that everything that I do is aimed at the world that I hope to manifest. Writing this blog is aimed at that. My book is aimed at that. My work as an architect is aimed at that. My work as a teacher is aimed at that. My personal work is aimed at that. It’s not always easy. Sometimes I get bogged down like I have been this past month. Sometimes I want to retreat and give up. Yet with age and experience I have learned not to fight so hard through these lulls. Better to just sit with it, feel it, acknowledge it, and give it a big old hug. So that’s what I have largely been up to this past month.
The other thing that I have learned is to remain conscious that I am in no way stuck in the lull. It will shift in its own good time. Zooming out to remember that and to see the broader sweep of my life helps. The final piece is adding or saying yes to a prompt that might begin to shift the energy. In this case, the prompt(s) have surrounded engagements with organizations and people who are part of the work and projects that I am shifting into. After speaking at the Tiny House Fest Vermont last month, the head of the semester long design-build class at Yestermorrow, Andrew Keller, asked me to come speak to his class. I gladly accepted as I love Yestermorrow, I appreciate how Andrew approaches his work, and it was a chance to help the next generation… which I practically never pass up on. That encounter was scheduled for yesterday morning. In the meantime, my colleague John McCleod at Middlebury asked me to come give desk crits to his introductory studio in the afternoon. I of course gladly said yes to that too.
I was actually looking forward to both. I absolutely love engaging in deeply meaningful ways with people, especially young people, who so want to manifest the world that they hope for, as all people who are attracted to designing or building do. Then yesterday came. I. Did. Not. Want. To. Come. Out. Of. My. Cocoon. Sorry, that was way too long of a use of that newfangled literary device! Anyway, I had my heels digging in the ground as I forced myself to walk out the door- running late of course. Fortunately, I also know from experience that this is typical for me and the trick is to just get myself out the door and then I’m fine.
I managed to do that, started the car (now equipped with snow tires!), and set off on my way. I knew I had a beautiful, wintery drive over the mountain ahead of me. But I didn’t have to wait for the mountains. Just a few hundred feet down my street, the snow covered trees in front of me and the vista across the lake to the side of me was so overwhelmingly beautiful that it brought me to tears. Literally. I have never had a more powerful experience of just being completely overwhelmed by the beauty of our world. It continued for my entire drive through the valley, through Brandon, over the mountain (by that mountain that I hope not be naked on unless it happens to be summer and I just took an outdoor shower), through Rochester (where I stopped at Sandy’s- my favorite coffee shop- and got to chat with one of my favorite baristas), then up scenic 100 to Yestermorrow. Breathtaking. The second it first hit me, it completely dispelled any reservations that I may have had about the day in front of me. The only thing that was in front of me was pure perfection.
When I arrived at Yestermorrow, I felt completely at home. Of course I always do there. I have spent much time at YM over the years in multiple ways: lecturing, taking classes, attending festivals, being a teaching assistant, etc. Oh, and making friends! This particular lecture was for a group of college-agish students in their semester long design-build class. The idea was to talk about what I do in the world, which for me always involves relaying the frameworks through which I do that work. Since I haven’t been teaching this semester for the first time in five and a half years, I felt a little bit out of practice going in. It didn’t matter. After giving them my overview (which in and of itself always goes deep), the students pushed me and pushed me for more. We went really deep. I got to watch their faces come to life as new possibilities for life opened up in front of them. There is nothing more awe-inspiring to witness than that, except maybe a wintery Vermont wonderland.
Now remember how I said that the last few weeks have been a bit difficult with my book writing process? It’s just that the way my mind works, the way my whole presence works, is to synthesize a whole lot of complexity into a to-the-point-at-hand clarity. To outsiders it looks like this process is easy for me. Often it is at this point, but only because I have wrestled with so much for so long. Yet still, this moment is complicated and I want to show up to it in a way that is commiserate to it. That means I have been wading through a lot of difficult territory across multiple disciplines, all while having to figure out how to distill it into something that will be meaningful, insightful, and most importantly useful to a wide audience. I am hoping to cast the widest of nets. I want to meet anyone and everyone where they are at and give them a window to their full potential, primarily by opening up a window into me. It’s delicate work. There are many tangents tugging at me. There is much that we have to face and clear out of our way that is no longer serving us in the process of figuring out a path forward.
Cut back to my talk at Yestermorrow. The final question, by a young woman who is studying at Smith, was this: “Do you have anything that you have written that we could read?” I almost fell out of my chair. Nobody has ever asked me that before. Many have told me that I should write over the course of my life, but here is somebody asking if I had completed that assignment yet. Eureka. Thank you, Universe. I told her that I’m on it. Of course they then wanted to know what my book is about, which led to a whole other round of discussion! We talked so long that I was now running late for my departure to head back over the mountain to Middlebury. No matter. In the words of an elder who I have referred to before in these pages, “there is nothing more important than this right now.”
I finally broke away from what now felt like a sea of students truly grateful for what I had shared with them. As I always try to do these days, I left them with the thought that nobody is extraneous. Every single one of us has our own unique role to play in our evolution. As I have shared with you all before, I have a bit of a save-the-world complex. I shared that with them too, letting them know I have long come to a place where I understand that I won’t save the world alone- we will only arrive collectively or not at all. Yet I also understand that the world won’t be saved without me. That is to say that we won’t evolve without me contributing what I uniquely have to contribute. The same for you. That’s all you have to do- whatever you feel called to do.
Back in my car for another drive over the enchanted Green Mountains, I took in the awe of it all. I didn’t get to Middlebury in time to go to a lecture in the Environmental Studies department that I wanted to go to. No matter. I took my time to gather myself at lunch instead. It was then that I got a text from John asking me if I would mind introducing myself to all of the students in the architecture department at the start of studios. Of course. Of course that was what the Universe had in store for me next.
Take my morning session and repeat with three times the students. Same reactions. Same lights coming on. Same gratitude. Same reflection. Thank you, Universe. Thank you for the much needed reminder. I got to spend the rest of the afternoon in one-on-one student desk crits. I always love those interactions the most in my teaching. It gives me the opportunity to really dial it in specifically for each student based on where they are coming from and what they are searching for. It gives me the opportunity to call forth and validate the potential of each and every one of them. I so adore that experience. Yesterday reminded me in a very powerful way of how much so. It also reminded me that teaching in the way that I do is central to my own calling. I am so, so happy that I get to continue to do so at Middlebury and no doubt in various ways at Yestermorrow. In the meantime, I think I have a book to write!