Tag: transformation

Dreams

Dreaming much lately? I sure am. So is Shannon. So is Shannon’s mother. In fact, a few days ago I heard a promo for an upcoming segment on NPR indicating that a whole lot of us are. I am not usually a lucid dreamer, or at least I don’t usually wake up knowing that I have been dreaming much less remembering what I might have been dreaming about. There are exceptions, of course, but this is generally true. Not these days. I wake up so tired from dreaming that I wonder if I would have been better off staying awake!! While I don’t necessarily remember, or perhaps want to remember, what I was dreaming about, I am quite aware when I wake up that I have been lost in it. And “it” was weird.

Before I get into that, here is a quick update on our stay-at-home tiny house experience. As mentioned previously, we have no internet or cell service up here. That means none of our usual forms of entertainment, which largely consists of Netflix, are available to us. We also like board games, but we don’t really have room for boards! We do, however, have one game that we are quite fond of that takes up next to zero space in storage: Bananagrams (thanks, Sara, for the intro even if getting our butts repeatedly kicked by you was extremely frustrating!). So that’s what we do. We play Bananagrams. If you aren’t familiar, the game basically consists of utilizing a Scrabble-like letter set to race each other to make a Scrabble-like crossword puzzle. It’s fun, but I have to say that you can only near-tie each other so many times before hitting a bit of a wall. That’s when the creativity breaks out. 

Shannon and I some time ago had become tired of playing and just randomly started putting words and then phrases together. They almost always ended up being weird, funny, poetic, etc.  A few nights ago we reverted into that mode when Shannon had the idea of starting a phrase with “Jedi Sayz,…” That was all it took to set us off on a whole new obsession with playing Jedi Sayz. We are up to nearly 40 or so phrases at this point and are aiming for 108 good ones to share. The photo above is a sampling. For starters, we’ll share them one by one on our FB and Instagram pages. They are providing us with a whole lot of insight about where our psyches are. We hope you enjoy! 

Back to the dreaming, who in the heck knows what we are all dreaming about, but I find it fascinating that so many of us are. Even as we practice social distancing it indicates how inextricably interconnected we are. It points to a reality beyond the one that we comprehend through our usual frameworks. Those frameworks tell us that this is all terribly real, whereas what happens in dreams is some sort of residue from our conscious lives. It is our subconscious expressing itself. Maybe so, but I don’t think the “sub” gives dreams their full due. Let me explain.

In the framework that I do my best to live by, my soul (aka Self) abides (lives) in the Absolute realm (the non-embodied realm or field which I call God/Oneness/Consciousness). As such, it isn’t subject to my subjective experience in the relative world. It’s not that I am a separate entity from my Self, it’s just that the latter has a 360 view on What Is (aka reality) whereas the former only sees what it can see from the perspective of the life I am currently inhabiting. From this framework, it would be more correct to say that my self is a dream of my Self than the other way around. In other words, this is the dream (the world as we have created it), not the realms that we travel to when we manage to break free from what we perceive to be real. So to call the non-embodied realm sub to this one, in my view, is an incorrect framing. It’s the exact opposite. 

O.K., o.k., that may be a lot. So why stop now?? There is an indigenous tribe in South America called the Achuar. Their culture is centered around their dreams. When they wake up in the morning, the first thing that they do is gather to share and discuss their dreams. What they discover in their dreams then determines the course of their day. They let their dreams guide them. Now this may sound like crazy talk from the framework that we operate in, but it is not the least bit crazy from the framework that I described above. In fact, it is quite possibly the only sane way to proceed if we understand that our “dreams” are one of the best ways that our Self has to communicate with us.

In the early 1990’s, Achuar shaman and elders began having disturbing dreams about the health of the Earth and in particular the devastating impact that humans were having on it and themselves. So, in true form, they began wondering what to do with this information. The guidance that they received was that they needed to reach out to Westerners and to start co-creating a new dream for the earth and humanity’s role in it. At the same time, a group of Westerners including Bill and Lynne Twist got the same call from the other end. They heeded that call and sought out the Achuar. Together they initiated the Pachamama Alliance. The network that they have built, while still invisible to our society at large, is extensive. I am part of it having first completed their “Awakening the Dreamer” course and then having gone through the training to lead that course. These days all of this coursework can be found online, with multiple more programs to choose from. If you find yourself with disturbing dreams these days, perhaps the best thing that I can recommend is to put that energy into taking one of the courses. You can check it out here:

Pachamama Alliance

To take this one step further (you knew I would!), I would make the case that if we are to chart a new course for humanity and for Gaia, then that guidance is going to have to come from the level of our soul/Self. As my good friend Chausey Leebron Jameson says, we simply don’t have the altitude from where we sit to know how to navigate ourselves out of this maze. When we work and push and fight for change, those efforts are more likely to lock us into the reality that we have created rather than catapulting us out of it. That is because when we do these things we are often operating from within the same frawework/worldview that was utilized to create this world, all while expecting a different outcome. It’s not going to happen that way. Sure, there may be a power transfer from one group to another, but the resulting dynamics will be the same. In order to create a reality that does not resemble the one we are trying to evolve out of, we need to reach beyond the frameworks with which it was constructed. We have to reach into the realm of pure potential, where our souls live.

That doesn’t mean that you will or should stop showing up in whatever way that you do. Maybe you are an activist. Maybe you do amazing, transformative work in the world. Maybe you do your best to take care of your family, friends, and community. I’m not suggesting that any of that stop. I am saying that all of our actions will be better serving if they are sourced from the non-embodied realm: from the field of pure potential, from Consciousness, from Oneness, from dreams, from God, from Self. To tap into that requires not a concentrated effort, but a letting go. Mind you, one of the best ways that we have of reaching a state of letting go is to exhaust ourselves in the concentrated effort, so in that sense… fire away on all pistons! Just pay attention and watch for that moment when you have reached your wit’s end and honor what is conveyed to you in your surrender. That is where the answers will come from.

Jedi Sayz, “Happy dreaming!”

This Place

It’s all so much easier when we are on vacation. Right??? I think maybe because our week in Big Bend was so in tune, this week by contrast felt like a disaster. It wasn’t, but that sure didn’t keep me from feeling like it was. The truth is that it was a mixed bag, just like just about every other week in life. There was some not so fun stuff, some o.k. stuff, some comical stuff, some infuriating stuff, some good stuff, and even some great stuff. Yet my state of being was brutal regardless of any of it. My best guess is that I finally crashed into the full realization that this phase of my life is ending. We are moving on. While that is super exciting, there is also a mourning that will have to take place… which I have been avoiding.

But with spring break having come and gone, the mad dash is now on. We are down to two months. There is not only an overwhelming amount of work and details that we need to take care of, there is also all of the emotions that are going to express themselves by hook or by crook. I found myself this week not even being able to deal with my self. So I just kept putting one foot in front of the other, got quiet, did a lot of self care (new skill!), and didn’t give myself a hard time about anything. Basically, I just gave myself space to be a mess. Internally anyway. Nobody who encountered me this week would have known I was a mess, with the sole exception of Shannon. And even at that, I tend to want to go through these moments alone and this week was no exception. I just need to sit with myself.

So let’s see, what can I tell you after a week of sitting with myself? The first thing I can say for sure is that my state of being definitely determines how I experience life. For example, on Monday something that should have been cause for joy and celebration barely moved me at all. As the week wore on this remained true although by simply being a witness to the phenomenon, I was at least able to register the good stuff like positive feedback, music that moves me, and a beautiful day. I have to say that the moment that began to break the ice came unexpectedly mid week. I had forgotten that a few of my professional colleagues were coming to campus for a Women in Architecture event that I was also supposed to take part in. I was reminded of the fact by the student organizer a half hour before the event was set to start.

It was a speed meeting sort of thing for our female students to meet as many female architects as possible- which is awesome. The plan in my head prior to this realization was to get the heck out of dodge as soon as studio was over and go home for some self care. I was dealing with the change in plan o.k., even though it required me to ignore the fact that I was not feeling well physically. As I headed to the event, two of my colleagues were already there and the other arrived shortly afterward. Now here is the important thing to know about this- these aren’t just three colleagues, they are actually three very close friends. One of them was my classmate at Princeton and my roommate during grad school. Two others have been our partners in crime on the green scene in Houston for many years, and our relationships transcended professional bounds a long time ago. All three are people who know me very well and have supported me in all ways. I didn’t let on to them that I was a mess either. We just chatted as normal prior to the start of the event. Then it turned out that the event didn’t need me because we had gotten enough outside architects to talk to our students- which was great. Without a single moment of hesitation, I decided to head home for that self care. I said my goodbyes to each of them and was off.

It wasn’t until I was driving away that I realized that just seeing the three of them had made a difference. A pang of sadness hit me that I wouldn’t be hanging out with them, catching up, definitely laughing, and maybe even going to a spontaneous dinner later. Of course the pang was intensified by the realization that we will soon live 2,000 miles away and doing such things are suddenly not quite so easy. But you know what? I just let it be. The truth was, I needed the self care. And instead of being sad about it, I was happy just for the opportunity to unexpectedly be in their presence even if for only a moment. Just that one moment made me realize that I am in no way alone in the world. In fact, I am surrounded by an abundance of people who love me, even when they may not be in my presence or in my awareness. It also brought to my attention that we will need to make space to spend time with friends before we go! That hadn’t even registered on our massive to do list yet.

Thank God the end of the week has been beautiful here, because you know something else- beautiful days just help. The Universe was so kind to me that It actually locked me out of my classroom yesterday, forcing me to take my class outside. How awesome is that?! I always loved it when a professor would take us outside on a perfect spring day. It was just what the doctor ordered. As for today, I mixed a little self care with some of that to do list. I don’t teach on Fridays, but instead use them to catch up on my professional work. I had an unusual opening in my schedule this week though, so I decided I was going to dive into our yard work and enjoy the beautiful weather in the process. We have put a ton of tender loving care (aka work) into this house, yard included. But not having spent summers here for the past five years, it had gone almost completely wild (seriously) and we have been slowly working to tame it.

This is another one of those emotional goodbye moments for me, because our yard was our big permaculture project of nine years ago. We transformed the front yard into organic shaped beds to grow our veggies, installed a drip irrigation system, and planted numerous fruit trees: satsuma, meyer lemon, star fruit, fig, papaya (long gone), and another that hasn’t produced anything so I can’t even remember what it is. The above photo is what it looked like right after we finished the initial install. The back yard has a spiral herb garden, a banana grove, peach trees, and a grapefruit tree. One of the peach trees is right outside of our kitchen window and is always gorgeous. We are hoping the peaches make it in time for us to enjoy them one more time. The rest of the back yard is xeriscaped with rocks. Shannon built the coolest trellis structures, one to support vines right outside our master bath, and the other to provide cover over the deck off of the master bedroom, which I imagine one day might support grape vines. It is all still a work in progress as we are moving toward at least somewhat completing the vision.

What I hope is that the future owners of this home thoroughly enjoy all of the love that we have put into it. I hope they love taking baths surrounded by vines outside the picture windows. I hope they love their feet being massaged by the rocks that form the floor of our walk in shower. I hope the kitchen- cabinetry, finishes, appliances and all- enriches their everyday lives. I hope they love the wood floors throughout, especially since we had to replace them twice! I certainly hope they appreciate their lower energy bills thanks to the high performance systems we have installed, not to mention me making Shannon crawl on her knees for days as she sealed the sill plate to the foundation. She seriously thought I was nuts… at the time. I would love for the new owners to continue using the meditation room as such, but that is too much to ask. Putting as much as we have into this house was never the smart thing to do. Any financial advisor would have strongly discouraged what we have done. But I just can’t. I can’t be with a place and not do everything within my creative powers to make it the best place it can be. If we aren’t here to make the world a more beautiful place, then what on earth are we doing???

I knew when we started all of this work that this day would come. I actually thought it would come sooner than it did. For me, it was an act of love from the get go. I knew that as much as we were doing it all for us, we were doing it for the next family that will live here. This house has seen its share of troubles. It has not just been an act of physically transforming it, but also energetically transforming it. The latter has been harder. I would swear that the three (yes 3), internal flooding incidents that this house has had in the past 12 years were it doing my crying for me. So as you might imagine by now, I have regarded the transformation of my self to be one with that of my house. That we will be passing this on a happy place is testament to what is possible and what is still yet to come. There is a whole world out there. But we will only ever transform it one place, one heart, at a time.

Abnoba in Big Bend

I didn’t come to want to be an architect in the usual way. It wasn’t about slick modern buildings, The Fountainhead, or even any of the timeless architectural masterpieces of our civilization. I didn’t discover architecture in a city, even though I grew up in one and became passionately dedicated to understanding and evolving our predominant settlement pattern. In fact, long before I set my sights on becoming an architect, the very first thing that I ever wanted to be was a Park Ranger. Want proof? Here you go:

That’s me in the Ranger’s hat on the right. This was taken at Yellowstone circa 1978 ish. As you can see, I’m ready to take on the world. It’s a good thing, because I’m needing that moxie right about now.

I discovered architecture before I even realized that I had discovered it… in another national park. My profession might mistakenly consider it more artifact than architecture, but the epitome of architecture for me is represented by Mesa Verde. When I first visited Mesa Verde- around the same age as the above photo- I was instantly mesmerized. What touched me deeply was this sense of humans being at home in the world, of the possibility of building a home that was fully integrated with nature. This is what inspired me to become an architect. Never seen it? Here is a photo I took about ten years ago:

I’ve been chasing the dream of Mesa Verde for what feels like a long time now. It is a difficult challenge for a culture and a settlement pattern (the city) that is so very removed from nature. While I’ve spent nearly 50 years growing up in, studying, and working on what our Vermont friends call “The Belly of the Beast” (aka Houston), my home has always been elsewhere. I come by it naturally. My grandfather on my father’s side was a mountain guide in the Colorado Rockies in his younger years. He passed his love of the mountains along to my father. Meanwhile my mother’s family loved the lakes of Minnesota and so they spent their summers in a little cabin on Martin Lake just north of her hometown of St. Paul. As for us, we spent our summers camping mostly near Durango, Colorado, but clearly visiting various parks throughout the country.

These days I find my home in my wife’s home state of Vermont. Perhaps not surprisingly, we have nested a home in the mountains and a home on the lake. I know my grandpas Roy and Sox are looking down smiling the biggest smiles. They would so love these places that I get to call home. Soon they will be home permanently. We couldn’t leave Texas, however, without visiting one of the most phenomenal national parks in the country- Big Bend.

So as I was saying, I am a mountain, forest and lake sort of person. Deserts- not so much. Same for Shannon. I wasn’t exactly sure what to expect. Seven hikes combined for 22 miles and several scenic drives later I can say expect the unexpected. Every single hike was completely different from the other. Each landscape was surreal in its own unique way. It brought me back to this deep sense of how sacred this planet we call home really is. If you haven’t noticed in awhile, slow down and take a look. Please. I’m asking nicely. In Big Bend the wind roars its command while the rain, when it comes, pitter patters the gentle reminder that it has not forsaken us.

Species upon species have called this place home, humans included. Many are extinct. For now I am convinced that only a few roadrunners, two deer, and one jackrabbit (who we saw four times) live there. Big Bend is a reminder that the fate of a place can change radically, from sea to wetland to volcano to mountain to desert. Transformation is the law.

It will be impossible for us to find our home in the world again if we don’t get back in touch with it first. That is why it is so incredibly important to get out into nature. Not to mention, it’s humbling. I have a case in point for your entertainment. On the fourth day we were tired from the previous three days of hiking and therefore decided to take the scenic drive out to the adjacent State Park. There was a short hike called Closed Canyon that we were interested in seeing to boot. The drive and the hike were well worth it. Breathtaking! We had not paid enough attention to the map before we started the hike though. I had mistakenly thought that the hike through this canyon would land us at the Rio Grande at the other end (it wouldn’t). Then all of a sudden we ran into a pool of murky water with a steep slope on one side and a slippery slope on the other. It was an impasse that we had not anticipated.

We joined a rock climbing gym last fall and have enjoyed bouldering, although we are quite the novices and haven’t taken any lessons. Mostly, we just marvel at other people gracefully moving across the wall as if they are lovingly slow dancing with the “rock.” That’s what being at home in nature should look like- a dance. But when I am bouldering, it feels more like a fight for survival! In the gym it doesn’t bother me because there is a mat underneath and I am quite adept at falling onto mats from certain heights. Shannon was intrigued enough by the situation before us that she decided to put her new bouldering skills to the test. It would require climbing in a sideways direction with the first section looking something like a V9 at the gym. In other words, it really was just a slippery slope with not much to hold onto. Mind you, we are still struggling with the V3’s. But if you could make it past that first little section then it looked much easier. There were things to hold onto. Shannon made it across with flying colors. She made it look easy even. I told her to go scope out the next section to see if this was just an anomaly in the trail. She did and reported back that there was no more water and it appeared to go on. She came back across with equal ease.

I, however, was honestly terrified. It wasn’t that the fall was any further than at the gym. It was that there was murky water at the bottom that I imagined a snake might be living in (which may have in and of itself been irrational). I might also mention that I am a good deal shorter than Shannon and therefore don’t have as much reach. I almost walked away, but then was so disappointed to not get to the Rio Grande that I made myself give it a try. Shannon stood on the crevice under me to help support me through the tough section. I made it across! Not gracefully, mind you, but I made it. Then we took the few steps forward to the next drop off that Shannon had scoped out. I immediately saw that there was no way in hell that we would be able to get back up the next drop if we went down… nothing but slippery slope. Then looking further around the corner I saw that there was another drop into a waterway that Shannon hadn’t seen. We were, in fact, at the end of the trail (which had we bothered to fully read the map at the beginning of the trail we would have realized). Well, chalk it up to our first real bouldering experience in nature (although I had vowed I would never do such a thing). Now there was nothing to do but go back.

That’s when the problem set in. Shannon went first and had no problem. I, on the other hand, well… how should I put this. Let me just describe the scene. Imagine me sprawled out in an x position on my belly facing a steep, slippery rock with Shannon scrambling to get back under me as I am slowly sliding down the rock. She yells out “Get a grip!” O.K., well, she didn’t actually say that. She said “find your grip.” But she might just as well have said the former. In a full fledged panic, and I do mean complete out of control I am going to die panic, I yelled back “I don’t have a grip!!!!!” That much was obvious I suppose. Fortunately, she got her own footing in time to catch me and not go sliding down herself. She was then able to support me- freaked out as I was- through the rest of it. While my life wasn’t in any real danger, feeling like it was in that moment reminded me how tenuous life is. Vulnerability is a powerful teacher. And sometimes, quite the comedian. We’ll be laughing about this for the rest of our lives. I don’t reveal this often, but there is a tender reality in the heart of this prickly pear.

On another day we drove out to Terlingua, the tiny knock about town just outside of the park. There is a ghost town there that just happens to have 58 residents, go figure, and a coffee shop (thank God!). Oh, and, an art gallery. We had to stop in. The artist in residence initially seemed like she would let us be, but quickly decided to be conversational instead. She started off by informing us that she always tells visitors that if something speaks to you, the time to buy it is right now. Alrighty then. We browsed around knowing that we hadn’t come to buy art. After perusing the entire one room gallery, the last thing we came to was a stack of her paintings. As we flipped through we both saw it, but kept right on flipping without mentioning it. Then Shannon went back to this painting and read the description on the back. The artist insisted that we pull it out and take a closer look, so we obliged.

The artist, Lori Griffin, proceeded to explain that she had painted a series of goddesses over a sleepless two month period after a loved one had passed away last fall. The goddesses had visited her one by one. Let me start by saying that I am not really a goddess sort of person either, as strange as that may sound. When it comes to resonance with archetypes, I tend more toward the masculine in nature. For example, two years ago we were in Costa Rica on a retreat to celebrate my best friend Micki’s 60th birthday at Mystica, a retreat center run by another Lori, our good friend and Reiki Master Lori Myles-Carullo. (Incidentally, I highly recommend this place!) One night we each pulled cards from a deck of archetypes. I pulled Green Man… alongside a card labeled “existence”. Made perfect sense. Green Man is the ancient spirit representing the birth and rebirth of man from nature. Yes, that resonated with my state of being.

Shannon isn’t into goddesses either. Yet there was something about this one that stopped us in our tracks. The first thing was that she was translucent. And she was in a forest. And you could see the forest through the trees, I mean goddess. Shannon asked about that. Lori explained that this goddess was very hesitant to show herself. She gave only small, elusive glimpses at first. Lori sensed that she kept herself invisible for her own protection and survival. When she finally did fully appear to her, even then she remained translucent. Nor did she seemingly say anything, at least not to Lori. Lori simply painted what she saw. I just listened quietly at first. Then I took over the questioning.

What is this orange in the background? Lori began explaining to me how she had applied the orange paint. No, no, what does it represent? I mean… the forest is on fire! Oh, yes, she says. This goddess is all about the elements: water and wood (trees) specifically, but also stones and fire. This was a mountain scene, even though it isn’t readily apparent in the painting. Then she goes on to explain that she later discovered that there is a goddess such as this in the Celtic tradition. Her name is Abnoba. She was worshipped in the Black Forest region of Germany. She is the protector of woods, springs, rivers and wild animals. Ah. And this butterfly in her hand? Transformation. Yes, of course. The world is on fire and this goddess is serenely, silently standing there holding out transformation with not a care in the world. Well, I said, “we have to buy it.” You can fill in the rest. Here it is: