Just Stand Here

Birds are small objects in large landscapes. Especially the little songbirds, which are my favorites. You often can’t get very close to any given bird when you want to look at it, so getting a good look can be hard. When you go birding with a friend, you might see a bird you want to help him or her see. But given the complex landscape, with its tangled vegetation—the same kind that birds especially love when you are trying to look at them—that little birdie might only be visible from one very particular spot. You might have to have your friend stand where you are standing, and talk them though the various shrubs and trees and branches to the bird you both want him or her to see. So you wave ‘em over and say “Come stand here. You see this biggest tree here, right? See the smaller, darker tree back to the left? About half way up is a branch coming off…the one with the funny crook?…Yeah. Follow that up until you get to the leaves and there is this bunch of yellowy leaves?…”

Usually, around that point, your friend also sees the bird through a tiny window of vegetation. If it hasn’t flown away, that is.

I feel like this is what I am doing with the upcoming weeks of introductory posts for this blog. I have something real and valuable in my sights that I want to show you. But I can’t just say “There it is! See it?!” It is a little piece of truth hidden in the complex and cluttered world of information. You can only see it if you line everything up just right.

But the good news is, once you get your eye on that bird, it is yours. You become in control of finding it for yourself. You can move around to other viewpoints and come back to it. Because it is real, and it is really out there, and you are there too, and you have eyes, and you can see it. That is what we are going for here.

So here’s what I see:

Choosing to engage deeply with the crisis of Climate Change can actually be a life-altering andempowering act. To be specific, if you feel powerless and unmotivated around Climate Change, there is another way to be. THIS conversation is going to bring you connection, agency, and quite possibly, fulfillment.

I know. Rare bird indeed. Right?

But, I think it is going to take a little time to get there. I suspect it might be easy to feel as if you don’t know where I am leading you. That’s why I felt the need to go through the whole metaphor and dedicate a separate post to reassure everyone there is actually a plan. Remember, if this kind of hope could be communicated in one essay, someone would have said it already.

The plan is this: (1) Get the “Climate Change Is…” series—where we look the beast straight in the face and try to say exactly what it is— out of the way. Then, the following week, I (2) unapologetically share the “Story of Me,” which culminates in my “5 Step Personal Plan to Save the World from Climate Change”(yes, tongue resolutely in cheek). Next (week 3) I explore the Story of Us, or the “Public Narrative” around Climate Change with an eye towards looking for an “in” to possible solutions. Finally, (4) we settle into the Story of Now, which is basically about constantly examining our our selves, our lives, our world, and envisioning lifetimes of change. At that point I should be able to develop a regular pattern of posts that can go on indefinitely exploring the themes we’ve laid out, and growing into new ones.

Do you see the path? Still wanna see this bird? As a last thought, for those who are wondering about how technical I’m gonna get…relax. Although the path does wind around a bit, it is one that anyone can walk. At the end of it is this great bird you’ve got to get your eyes on. Keep standing with me here for a few more posts. Even if it gets ugly or uncomfortable, stay with me. This bird is worth seeing, and in this case I can promise, it won’t fly away ; )

"Hope is the Thing with Feathers" Emily Dickinson

Female manakin on nest in Ecuador. Photo by TimLaman.com