Angie Lipski

Welcome to 100 Stories, the Narrative Intelligence Project. I'm your host, Paige Williams. Come along with me as I build the emerging field of narrative intelligence. I am learning from 100 thinkers, creators, researchers, leaders, people whose lives have been shaped [music] by profound change. Together we're exploring a question at the center of how we become who we are. How malleable are the stories we live by? And what does it take to change one?

Across these conversations, we are examining the stories we inherit, the stories that become identity, and the human capacities that allow us to recognize, question, revise, and live beyond them. What I learn through this series will help shape the field of narrative intelligence and the foundational book that I'm writing about it. This is 100 Stories. Today I'm speaking with Angie Lipsky, who is a practicing architect. She is bringing to light sensory understanding of our world and looking at architecture and neuroscience as a means to greater wellness in the world today. I invited Angie because she is so thought-provoking. I never have a conversation without Angie when I don't

like stop in my tracks and think about my space and what it means. And I see such a connection between space and the stories that we tell ourselves. So, I'm thrilled to have Angie on the show and to talk about narrative intelligence, architecture, beauty, space. Thank you for being here, Angie, and welcome to the show. >> Thanks so much, Paige. >> I would love for you to tell me about the work that has most shaped how you see yourself and the world today. I had an approach >> practicing architect of 30 years, and I'm not done practicing. But as I think about what's coming in my next stages of life, I'm thinking about this work that has been in my brain for 30 years. And

it really is about architecture plus neuroscience for a greater sense of wellness in the world today. And I don't mean wellness from a trendy place. I mean wellness from a a soul-satisfying place that we are all at our best and thriving, and not a necessarily a big way, but in a daily rhythm that just feels good and better for the human heart so that we can connect better. There's a lot of assaults that are happening at all times on our senses, and I don't know if people know the the drain that causes on the brain. And a lot of it is through the built environment that we're subjected to.

We're either inside or outside. We're in the built environment or when the natural environment. Sometimes we're in the built environment on the edge of the natural environment. Sometimes we're in nature but in a little structure that is the built environment. And all there's so many little pings happening at all times in our mind, and I just the design decisions we make are so impactful. And I want people to realize this maybe, and not in a way that like blows their brain out because it could be super overwhelming, but I just want to help share what how to make the invisible visible so that we are making great decisions about design decisions,

the kind of spaces and experiences we have every day, and how to reduce the friction in our life for a just a softer life to be in. Yeah, I had the the privilege of being in one of your spaces that you designed, redesigned. Okay, I had the privilege of hosting camp for adult women leaders at the Cliff Ranch in Ovando, Montana, and I didn't know at the time that you had done the design of this beautiful ranch, but it makes so much sense to me now knowing you and knowing your work. And what that space did was created so much community for us in ways and like we gathered in every space, and it was so easily done. Like we didn't have to force people into space, we just were in

space, and then when we would organically move between spaces inside and out cuz it was felt very much like an inside-out experience. It was late May in Montana. It was gorgeous. Couldn't have asked for better weather. And it brought the sense of like the space itself brought such a sense of nourishment to our souls. So, will you talk about how you do that? Like, what is your magic? What is the neuroscience behind it or the design principles behind an experience like that? Yeah.

But, so let me just start with that. Project was brought to me and a state where the four original homestead cabins that you were you were in were there. But, in a project like that where there's so much history, one thing I'm going to say from the get-go is the previous person had an ego of what of how to inter- intervene. What intervention to do among the four cabins. When I arrived and I saw it and it was this super crazy wacky place, right? I had to kind of uh like suss out the intervention that was poorly and soul-lessly done. It met the functions, right? Okay, fine. But, to me it didn't sing and it didn't dance with those four other cabins, right? And what we do

whenever what I do whenever I have a project is I do three design options for a client. And what that does is it helps like it just helps answer the questions we're trying to answer. But, what I more ask about is how do you want to feel? What's the interaction when someone's cooking? Is anyone else around or is the cooking sequestered? What happens late at night? What if someone needs to fill their water bottle before going on a hike? What is that experience? What's the morning coffee ritual? How do we spill out to space, right?

But, I try to find the magic in what's being said and not said and the magic of the site. On a historic site like that that has so much beautiful prospect across that you can see, we also wanted a space for refuge within the old homes, right? That those old cabins provided refuge on the prairie through all the years, right? Of the people 100 years of the people being on the site. But, you know, that was a place to gather the people together. So, we needed the right kind of refuge. So, we needed a place of refuge within the buildings that were brought together to be like the lodge.

And what I like about historic architecture is it tells us what to do if your ego's out of the way. I can sit back and I can look at the detailing or the shape of a log or the orientation of the building and I I literally can almost feel the heartbeat that I am responsible for carrying on. I mean, I know that might sound a little wacky, but it's it's literally because it's not about me. I'm just a conduit and a curator of what the homeowner or the like person that the ranch owner needs as well as what you you as a person who's coming to see there is going to need. And it's a little bit of like what falls through the the sieve or how the Rubik's Cube

comes together, right? Of the final experience that you had. But I do think about what is the sense of entry when you first see it. This is the choreography of space that I truly believe in. When you drive in that path in the um you come across the fields and you see the lodge in the background. And then you see it has a fire tower in the center, which is telling you point of entry. So I'm drawing you in and there's a whole sensory experience even like the gravel under the wheels of the tire. And then you go and you park. Like I I believe in thresholds all over the place. But that's the threshold to the building, right? Where these are pause places of both entry and exit. You know,

I think about how someone's let into a building and how they're let out of a building. That's the place where the family's going to take their family photo that everyone's going to frame and remember when they went to the guest ranch or where you and your group is going to or the cycling house when they go. I create these eddy out spaces because when you're in a space like Cliff Ranch, there's a lot of activity that often times can be going on. But not everyone A is an extrovert or wants to be an extrovert at all times. People need these spaces to pull out to safely pull out, which is what you're talking about with at your camp that it allowed people

to have these moments to disconnect from the group, to connect to themselves or to connect with one or two other people. And those are these little pauses in these eddies. And then, how do we fill that space, and how do we take care of you when you're sitting in that space? Right? All the stuff matters, Paige. And so, and so, it's a it's a really a psychological moment that then we figure out how to put the brick and mortar onto to create a true three-dimensional space in which you inhabit. Wonderful. Thank you for take taking me through how it's made.

>> Wow. >> You don't just walk up to the front door. You're not You're not arriving in a valet in downtown Missoula or downtown LA. There is a different sensory engagement by even hearing your foot on the pea gravel and the little tire tracks. Like, these are transportive moments that get you out of where you've been to where you've now you're now coming. How you're arriving. >> I love it. As a practicing architect, do you now have this new website and you have this new mission? Tell me about that mission and the sensory experience and the neuroscience behind it and how it might tie into narrative intelligence and why we're having this conversation.

I know that's a big question. >> As I looked through the questions we might be talking through, Paige, I just thought you and I are doing the exact same work. You're just bringing it through words, but I just do it through the built environment, you know? I We're telling the same story. If I'm designing your house or whatever, okay? Your your office space. But, let me go back to your your bigger question here of the story. And so, this is a story that I have lived, and this is completely applicable to your narrative intelligence work. Okay. So, when I was a little person, 7 years old, I was in second grade, my brother was in fourth, and I was like, "What am I going to get

homework? At what point does the school start giving a second grader homework?" I mean, come on, people. And for my brother was in fourth grade, and he had a assignment to design his dream home. So, that was this early moment of I of me thinking that a life was possible within the walls and ceiling if certain things happened within it. Okay, so that's my first moment as a little 7-year-old. Move forward to I'd gone through architecture school. I love architecture. I love everything about architecture school, etc. And it's 1996-ish. I'm living in San Francisco and practicing there. And I'm poor as poor as a church mouse. So I'm like reading and all this sort of things. I

don't have any money to do anything really. So this one man in in 1996 his name was John Paul Eberhard. He was asked by the AIA to create a research arm for architecture. And he was a neuroscientist trained by training. I actually don't remember his exact accolades. But he started writing and I started reading every month these articles about harmony and space, wellness in space. He didn't use the words human thriving, but I was immediately this is about human thriving in space, you know. Page It was as if I wrote these articles. I just felt like I knew everything he was talking about and he was giving metric work, you know, and true neuroscience information and data.

And I was like I I 1,000% understand this. And so I thought there's a world that does whirl along in this space where my brain goes, you know, but I don't always talk about it cuz I don't know, people weren't talking about this. Okay, that's '96. Then fast forward another like 5 years later and that's when I took a year I'd been working for 5 years. Apparently I needed a sabbatical. But I took a year off because I was considering getting a PhD and going the teaching route is the the moral of that story. But I took a year off and I started studying how our senses inform us about space. What you know, we're so visual. What if visual doesn't exist? How do we also learn

about space through these other senses? Why are we given this these senses? Like why do we have these senses, you know? So I looked at the five traditional senses plus the sixth sense of the kinesthetic because I believe when your body is also part of an experience the experience has a much whole another layer of richness and memory and that sort of thing. Okay, so I studied the five traditional senses plus the sixth sense of the kinesthetic. Additionally, I looked at what what is the choreography? Like like what we just talked about at Cliff Ranch. Because think about I think about architecture as if it's a healing art, as if it's an art to be honest. So, let's think about

a movie, a piece of music, a ballet. There's an like when the movie comes on the screen, a tone is set. Is it dark? Is it light? What's the music playing? Is it like a heart-racing music that you know, like you're already in a sense of danger as you're a participant watching the movie. And then there's high spots and low spots through the through the story, right? Because otherwise it'd be like listening to heavy metal the whole time. Like there's no space, there's no space for us in it, in my opinion. For I can't listen to heavy metal. There's no space for me in it, right? But so that became this choreography of when are what should we be dipping into our

senses? And then when do we need we do when do we need a space, a pause, so that the the mind can kind of settle? And then when do we dip when do we activate again? When do we pause again? When do we activate again? And then when that whole sequence happens and it happens multiple times over the day and whatever. And then when are we as we're moving back out of the sequence, how are we let out in the world and how can we function in the world after we've just been in this other experience, right?

So, that was what I was studying when I was doing my master's work. And in this I was thinking, "Okay, we can create experiences and experiences have moods and we tell a story, right? Think about most stories we tell have a setting to them." And the setting is this. It's all this stuff around us, right? And so we have these experiences. These experiences become memories and these memories become markers of our life and they're how we tell the story of our life. So, to me, the work I am doing is I'm giving I'm creating settings, place making for our lives to take place within. And so every story we tell ourselves, whether it's about how we sleep or we're a Native

American who's brought up in a white family or you know, a dancer, it's all we're we're living in this space at all times. Like I can't believe the whole world is not talking about this at all times, Paige. What what should we be speaking about? What questions should we be asking ourselves about that? >> Well, it's really like is the stuff that surrounds us serving us to our higher potential? There's a whole layer of clutter and things like that. There's a whole psychology of what people do surround themselves with that I have zero aspirations to get into cuz I think it's it is those are deep layers of psychology of why do people want a maximal or a minimal aesthetic around

them and why do people feel safe sometimes with a lot of stuff? Why do they not need things? That's a whole amazing psychology that is not my wheelhouse. I mean, that's my next life. But I I just think that any little friction points like oh, there's 20 pairs of shoes at the front door. Like to me that's a pause. Whereas my people other people might just like go past like there's 20 pairs of shoes thrown at the front door. But to me that's a pause. But we have to be careful cuz I don't want to make people crazy in this world. And that's why that's the beauty of true harmonious in like properly engaged design that you don't even notice the swirl of beauty around you or

the swirl of ease around you until you go into a place that doesn't have that swirl. Until you go into a space that has the friction that you suddenly start noticing these things. And if you go in the world and you have a little brain like mine, there's a lot of that. And I can I can still be in the world without like, you know, like my brain exploding at all times. But I notice things like oh, there's a tick in that mechanical.

Like, you know, you just did with my my sound was on, my fan was on in here. You know, or that lights the wrong color temperature. And I can see all these things. And so, you know, like do I need to make everyone a an architect, a study of architect? Does that need to be their life goal? Well, I mean, no. But there's really small simple things we can all do to make our our environment better and function better for whatever that function is we're doing, you know? Yoga studio is different than a gym, which is different than your workspace, which is different than a hospital, which is different than a school. And like, are the designer decisions we're making in all those

places, are they reinforcing so that everyone is becoming the best self in those spaces? >> Where did your belief that our bodies understand a place before our minds do come from? >> Paige, that belief just came from reality. And I know you feel it, and I know whoever's listening to this feels it. You know, you walk into the school, but the minute you walk in, the air is weird, it's stagnant, like the it's the floor is peeling, the paint feels old, the lights off. Really, we're sending our kids in that space to try to go and learn and be like bright and alive. No.

Whereas, if you walk into a school, these new schools that are being being designed in America, as well as like in Europe and things like that. I mean, we're having some really good projects come online, even locally. Where the kids walk in, there's a sense of expansion. There's a There's the big spaces for gathering. It's for It's I mean, it sounds a little wacky, but it is for aspiration. It is for connection connecting to the higher being of of knowledge and education. And then, you know, there's little places for I mean, neuro-divergency has got to be designed into places and spaces, especially where it's larger groups of people. Again, like let's just keep using the school

analogy. In the little spot where the kid who who wants to watch, but doesn't want to be part of, but wants to tuck into a little corner to read, and that's what the space has been created for that little human. I mean, how how empowering is that for that person? And it's really, you know, some people use the words like empathetic design. I don't really think of it that way, but in truth, it is. So, so to me, like the school. We walk into a restaurant. You and I share a favorite restaurant in town here. I go to that damn place because I feel so alive, and it's organic, and it's modern, and people know my order, and I have these little moments of interaction, and the

landscape outside is blooming, or it's snowing. Like, I can feel what's happening outside, but I'm protected inside. We all know this this premise that I'm saying. And I I'm not sure I've never read it anywhere. I don't know people are talking about it, but it is a reality. When you walk into your home, you feel You walk into your grandma's home. And if the air is stuffy, and it feels a little dusty on your nose, you feel it, you know? Some of these amazing airports that are happening are also indicative. The place I mean, don't even get me started on healthcare, cuz I feel like so much of healthcare while it's trying to take care of the patient,

it's really in today's world almost housing the equipment, and the patient is kind of secondarily, cuz there's all the beep beep beep and the poor person is trying to, you know, heal. But how are they healing with all these senses being like you know, beaten on all day long, let alone the poor people who work in a hospital or a medical facility. Oh my god. But I I just think our body knows these spaces when we walk in, even if you don't think about it.

I I I just I guess I would bet the farm that we all have the experience. I mean, you'd have to really be numb in terms of sense of understanding the world around you if if we didn't have this experience, all of us. So, it it didn't come from anywhere other than the lived experience. >> Yeah. Yeah, totally. A couple thoughts memories came to my mind. As you know, my mom was very sick in May, and so she was in the hospital for weeks, and it was awful. And she didn't think she was going to come out, and she's like, "I'm going to die here, you know." And um she didn't, but when we were finding a rehab for her, we had two choices. And but she kept saying, "I need somewhere light and

bright to heal." >> Yes. >> That is calming. And they were going to send us to this one place, and I went and looked at it and I was like, "No, she will die here." Like this is where people That's what the space said. People come here to die. >> Yes. >> And the hospital said that as well. The space itself and how it's designed. And then we went to this newly designed rehab and it was like you come here to heal and to breathe and they're like we get you out as soon as we can that's our mission and every space reflects that and it was so true and she healed so quickly then and then went home and is you know I I just I couldn't believe it and I really believe that if she had

gone to that other place we would have had a different story 1000% >> So it's not only your mom it's your you visit the kids going to visit and the grandkids going to visit mom it's also the health care workers there all day long so in in place a where it was just basically a soul sucking environment >> everyone who works are never no one wants to go see grandma on her final days cuz it feels so terrible to go there versus place b it it's almost a rejoicing of of space and of of humanity in the both environment why on earth would we ever design in that place a >> right right and I mean I don't know what we do with the old spaces I guess you redesign them but

>> yes you can yes >> who she was like I just need to be able to go out and sit in the sun and they had a space for that >> hear the birds twitter hear the birds twitter hear the little kids on the block away playing in the playground >> and the sweetness of life after thinking you're going to die and then to have that experience it was just really beautiful it healed her in multiple ways >> let me let me ask you this how does a place hold a story can a place hold a story and how do you know what space is telling us >> it's a good question definitely a place holds a story and often times a place holds a story that is based on values from the past

this is what's an interesting conundrum like you know we go into an old building that was built for the values and the time and it was forward and everything like that, and it still stands today, 60 years later, and that's great, but it no longer speaks to our values or no longer reinforces our life. Think about the world of technology and how that didn't I mean, God, when we were coming out of, you know, we were in college, I mean, I remember getting a laptop or not a laptop, a desktop, you know, my fifth year of architecture school, it's a 5-year program. I'm like, we had email.

I was like, who do I email? Like, what do I do, right? And so, here we are today, right? So, so, buildings hold stories. And and they speak of who built them, why they were built. Was it political connection? Did people have money? Was it a Carnegie and they built libraries cuz they believed in reinforcing a literate world. You know, so buildings tell stories. We also have and they're from the past. There's us today in the present, and what is the story we needed to tell? How do we need to change it to reinforce who we need to be?

To give a an opportunity for the connections to be made for us in today's world. And there's going to be a future of these buildings, right? So, in truth, we have to figure out what's precious, what do we hold on to? What are the right moves, especially doing preservation work or historic work? And we're going to in certain stories, we're going to get things wrong. Like, you know, we're going to demolish or we're going to do something wrong, but that's also the reality of life, like it's representative of life and the imperfection of life. So, there's that component. Another thing about how stories tell buildings is in the way life has changed. Just think about like

in the old homes, this is how my house is. My kitchen is separated off from the front rooms. And that was when the the cook used to be in the back, right? And separated from the social and they don't want the dinging or the smells or anything like that to permeate, you know, the social interaction in the front when they were reading Shakespeare all together or something like this, I don't know. But that has changed, right?

Now, people typically want to be part of like the conversation when they're cooking and things like this. So, like that's an old story that has a story, and maybe it works for some people, maybe it doesn't work for other people. So, we can change that story. The staircase, where's the staircase located in the commercial building? Is it like the irresistible staircase that you want to ascend because it's put in the front front and center and you get these beautiful views as you're walking and you get a little bit of kinesthetic, you get a little bit of mobility, you get movement in your body and you feel it.

Like these we are telling stories and we are directing people in these places and spaces that we design. So, yes, I mean it's part of the power and if people understand that's what we're doing with architecture, I think a lot more architecture would be a lot better. Yeah, not all architecture is created equal. >> Beautiful. >> Is there space from your childhood that is precious to you? And how does it make you feel and what was in it and who was there?

And what do you think about that space today and what is the story you tell about it? >> Yeah. Yeah. The space I would say is my grandmother's ranch. You know, I grew up here and we had a small like 270-acre ranch south of town. And So, one thing about growing up in Missoula, one thing I love Paige, I don't know if you feel this or not, but I love we're in a bowl surrounded by mountains and we live in the valley floor. I love that sense of containment of the mountains, okay?

We drive through these couple big cottonwoods which were the threshold as we drove in and they were a threshold because if it was summer, you suddenly had this moment of shade and like you could feel the temperature change just like that. And if it was winter, it still felt like this craggily gate gateway that we passed through, right? And then we were on the circular drive. And we pull up and we always pulled up to the same spot. You can see my grandma cooking in the window. And and then as we walked in, again we had a sense of compression and it was like the smell of an old like, you know, they were out feeding the horses and the cows and the

things like that. So, there's like almost that smell of like dirt or earth. Maybe earth is a better like connection to place of earth. And you know, you'd see the old Pendleton jackets hanging up and you know, all that sort of thing. And then as we walked into the main dining room, then we had these huge views. And we My grandmother was cooking. You could smell the cooking. My grandfather was in the front room. This panel-lined, this wood-lined house with the limestone fireplace, you know. And there was a lot of magic internally, but it's massively connected externally, right?

And I I think I'm at the end of my grandma's life, too, when I would go see her out there. There was a huge maple, and you know, in this Montana summers, they were hot. They're hot. They were hot then. We'd sit under this maple tree in those old uh you know, those old folding chairs that you know, they're like interwoven. Those interwoven nylon chairs. >> Yeah. >> And we would drink this lemonade that she had made by hand. It was super tart, hardly any sweetness to it. And you could hear the traffic way down in the valley a little bit in the distance. You feel the slight breeze moving across the hillside. And I mean, talk about wonderful moments of you know, of my

early life. And I I really love this landscape of the mountain landscape that has the valleys in it. To me, there's just something so it's very settling for me. I'm not someone who loves a big ocean landscape cuz I prefer I'm going to I'm going to like, you know, I'm going to float away and no one's going to find me. But I like a sense of containment. So, yeah, that's that's uh my grandmother's house is and it's where my mom grew up and all sorts of things.

So, there's a lot of layers to that place for me. >> Thanks for sharing that with me. I you understand so much more about who you are and why behind your architect design because of that story. It was beautiful. Have you ever seen a space reinforce a story that was no longer serving the people in it? Yeah. Oh, yeah, you see this all the time, quite honestly. Yeah. You know, when I go into houses, like if I'm doing a renovation on a house, you go in and people say they want to live in a certain way. They're like, "Oh my god, it's exactly not what it is, you know." Which is okay. It's actually good to see why it doesn't work. You know, you go I go into these

some of these office buildings when I'm going to do a new office for people or and I'm just like, oh god, like you're not bringing out the best. Like people are not coming in here with a bright mind to be to get I mean, you want to talk about return on investment, create a good office space. Create a space where people can actually flourish and thrive in the work they're doing because they're not like stuck under this 8-ft ceiling that just goes on ad nauseam that has this weird air and you can't bring any fresh air in. Oh my god, I can't stand those kind of spaces, but they're really easy to undo. So, there's plenty of spaces in this world. Oh my

god, plenty of spaces that no longer meet the story and it's not that hard to change it, but you have got to know. Like don't just like do it again with different carpet and different paint. Sometimes the intervention needs to be a little bit bigger. At the same time, sometimes the intervention can be paint, reorganize furniture, get rid of stuff. Often times the clutter that surrounds people, they have no idea the mental toll it takes on them. So, yes, pages is basically my life. Yes. Yes. Yes. That's what keeps me employed.

>> Right, exactly. >> Can changing a physical space help someone become all of who they are before they even understand that's where they're headed? >> Yes, I believe so. And that is powerful. It's powerful people will have the courage to step into a new space, right? Cuz they think it's where they want to go, but there's a lot of momentum of who we are that's stuck in here, right? So, can these new spaces start to start to move us into that new direction?

So, I just think the power of space is undeniable. The power of architecture is undeniable. The power of of tapping into our senses and the life it can give us and the richness it can give us if we know to do it and know how to do it, it it's like mind-blowing to me. And I don't know if if seems scary to anyone. I don't know if that would feel scary to someone else. To me, I can't imagine not saying yes, but I guess it could be scary to certain people and certain personality types, but if I'm ever with that person, they they I hope would know that I am there 1,000% to just softly move them into whatever world.

>> Wow. That's awesome. How do the spaces we move through every day shape our habits, our relationships, and our identity? >> Yeah, that's a tough and an easy question, I have to say, because the things we do every day, they're so secular, right? There's these they're so seemingly meaningless, but those are what become the rituals, the repetition makes it a ritual. Those small moments are actually the true choreography and the true stories of our life. You know, we think they're just on just I'm I'm waking up. Well, how are you waking up?

Are you waking up to be alive in this world? Are you barely able to get out of the world? Like, when you go to turn on, I don't know, NPR in the morning, does that What is that sound of of of waking up? What does that do for you? What is that ritual? People who have to start their day with coffee, maybe the coffee's already made and they can smell it and that helps them wake up. Or they go down and they pick their favorite coffee cup out and they go through the grinding. I mean, coffee the coffee ritual is legit, as we know. I design spaces that are literally for the coffee ritual, because somehow that speaks to those people of waking up and like

starting their day and coming out of their little interior shell to be into this exterior shell, right? And then like, you know, just that movement of getting into your car. Your car is a built environment, right? Your car is a space, too. How does sitting onto that leather or the upholstered chair do all these things? How do they make us feel every day? Like, we can go I think people just buy certain experiences cuz they do know it is how it makes them feel. And that's a niche market. And then there's other people who kind of don't care. And so those are the people who I feel like they're not maximizing themselves, but not everyone has to to

in this like we don't have to all be the same. There's beauty in that, right? So, to me these rituals and what they tell us and where do you drink water and how do you end your day and how do you start your day? How does all this work together? It does define us, right? And what we put in our body, there's so much opportunity for it to define us, to become it, to become our story, to help us connect to others. And the the the more we can get the kind of the noise, the white noise out of the way so we can figure out who we really are, that allows a deeper connection with like you and me sitting here right now, you know? Or when you're out eating or

when you're you know, working out in your own body. I feel like those rituals are so important. They seem secular, but they're so sacred. I really believe that we experience life through these series of sensations. We don't think of them that way. The the sensation of opening your eye and the quality of light that comes in, that is a sensation. Putting your foot onto your floor is a sensation. Right? And our senses help us understand sensations, right? And then you move to the ritual of having your first glass of water, turning the knob or hitting, you know, NPR on or whatever or starting your coffee. These are all these rituals and these sensations. And

so in truth, we're living through in our world just through these series of small sensations that our brain is making sense of. Kind of just these sensations to uh you know, to maximize our life and it's just a tapestry. Like, what's the tapestry you want your life to be to be? I don't even want to be woven with and to be. What's the tapestry you want your life to be? That's my word.

>> If someone is tra- in transformation and they're becoming all of themselves, they're becoming more of themselves. They've gone through something. They've gone through what I like to refer to, which you've referred to a couple of times, the threshold moment, which I call the hallway. Definitely. And they're coming into a new them, a a more full them. What role can place play in that transformation?

>> It's so powerful. It can be so powerful. I mean I think oftentimes about people who haven't been divorced, knock on wood, but when people want to leave the house they've been in, and so they move into a new house, right? And part of the reason they move into a new house, they want to leave that past behind, and they want that new space to help them be that new person, right?

So, to me, I think that we can put ourselves into these places that do reinforce the new us, the who we want to be. Like, we can we can create these places, almost these nodes, for our life that we will reinforce the the healthier, the harmony, or the whatever lifestyle we're trying to create. So, place does does reinforce all of that. Does this make sense, or am I like totally bonkers in what I >> No, absolutely. I mean, I was thinking about when I moved out of my marriage home >> Yeah.

>> the home I'm in now, and there were you know, I I downsized from 3,600 square feet to 1,500, and that was powerful. Like, to decide what to leave behind, and what to donate, and >> Yeah. >> like what I no longer needed, and it was like a shedding. >> Yes. >> And it was so freeing, and the more I shed, the more free I was from my old life. Yeah, I was really scared. So, in my old house, we I had this huge picture window that looked over Mount Sutno. We were up on the mountain.

>> Yeah. [snorts] >> And then when it came to me moving out, and and and all of that transition, I was so scared to leave the mountain. But I what I realized is that the mountain is within me. What I what shifted, what I didn't expect is there's these beautiful French doors that are in the back of this house that open up to these beautiful maples, >> Yes. >> and that lifts my spirit every morning when it's warm enough to open them. And when it's And when it's winter, I have a fireplace that I never had before that comes on at the click of a button, and it nourishes my soul. So, both places nourishes me even more than the mountain in that picture window. So, I was scared

to give up place, but what ended up happening really delighted my life. You're the first architect I've interviewed and the first time we've really put neuroscience and space to narrative intelligence and it's been wonderful conversation. So, if you were to write the definition of narrative intelligence, how would you define it? >> Relative field or with the big world out there?

>> Whatever you want to say. >> I think it is the stories we tell ourselves about our world. And so, to me, I can't separate my life from the settings in which my life takes place. And that is my story. And then I have these moments of interactions with other people that take place within this. So, that is my narrative intelligence of in place, place making. Those are the stories who make me up as a human being.

And that's all I've got, quite honestly. You know, this physical stuff can go away, but what ends up living in here because of the stories I've lived in the places I have lived those stories. That is my story. That is my intelligence about my life and the only life I can tell. The only story I can tell. >> Okay, I have to ask you this as a follow-up. Talk about the brain and the stories you live within your brain and how it reflects or vice versa our built worlds that we live in. The story we live in in our brain and or the physical world we live in and that reflection on the brain. It's funny, I think that some people can think. I think it just gives freedom in truth

what what I'm trying to say. There is no right answer cuz it's unique to all of us. So, your physical space and how it affects your brain and then the space you're surrounded by and then how that affects your brain and how your brain affects the space you're living in. It's unique to all of us because bottom line, this comes back to perception and understanding senses. We all are bringing different ingredients to the to the table, quite honestly. You growing up in the South have a way different experience of humidity of seasons, of people, of of accents, of foods than I do. But that's what makes your story unique. I've I've never even been to the

the area of the world where you're from, right? But then when I go there and I see that culture, I'm like, "Oh my god, that's so unique." And it helps me understand my culture more, right? So all these stories in these places where we are, they help us understand culturally where we fit in in this bigger picture of life. And that's what I I I love about culture pride, honestly. We can never really belong to someone else's culture because the only culture we know and we can really understand is the one we've been brought up in and we think it's the only way, right? And this is part of the built environment. This is part of the natural environment. This is part of the foods

we eat. This is part of the, you know, trees that grow around us, etc. And so to me, the neuroscience of placemaking, it could be really narrow if you never travel. It can be really big if you see a lot of places and then you understand the uniqueness of place. But I just think these are just lots of little chapters in our brain. We call upon what we need for whatever we're working on at that moment. And that's the power. And some people maybe aren't as affected by this, so they don't store as much in the file cabinet of the brain. But I think most people are. Most people really are affected by what we're talking about here today, 100%. [music] Angie, this

has been awesome. Thank you for being here. Thank you, Paige. Before we close, here's what I'm taking from this conversation about narrative intelligence. Angie made me realize that we don't just live inside stories, we live inside settings that keep telling those stories back to us. A hallway, a hospital room, a kitchen, a school, a house after a divorce. Space can reinforce who we've been or quietly give us cues about who we might become. One thing she said really stayed with me.

The small things that we do every day can look ordinary, but through repetition, they become ritual. The light we wake up to, where we drink our coffee, the path we take through a room, the places where we gather, and the places where we retreat. Angie called those everyday rituals so sacred. And it made me wonder how much of identity is being rehearsed not only through language, but [music] through place and space. And there was something else I did not expect. Angie believes a new environment can begin to move us toward a new life before we fully know how to become that person. Not force us, not change us without our participation, but invite [music] us. Give us different

cues, different possibilities, a different way of inhabiting ourselves. And that raises a question >> [music] >> I want to keep carrying through this narrative intelligence project. What if changing the story sometimes means changing the room? Not because [music] architecture determines who we become, but because the spaces around us may be part of the narrative that we are living inside. What is your environment asking you to repeat? [music] And what might become possible if the space around you started telling a different story? Join the conversation. Take the narrative quotient assessment at story keys.co and subscribe to 100 stories, the narrative

intelligence project, wherever you listen or watch. And please share this episode with a friend, give us a rating and comment. It really helps us grow.