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the path back is the path forward

Monthly Archives: September 2020


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start. stop. saddle up. [flawed wednesday]

“there are 100 ways you could have said that,” he would say. yep. probably more than 100. somehow you have to have your intellect, emotions, sensitivity all line up in perfect harmony so that what actually comes out of your mouth might be a teensy bit worthy, attentive to the moment. we all know this is not an easy thing. it is far easier to react, to scoff at sensitivity, to employ little to no brainpower, to not check your emotions, to not rein in your anger, your wrath, indeed, your rage. yes, it is far easier to spew.

and spewing has become the haute couture of communicating, the cape of the superhero of speak. instead of being gauche, it has become cheered, jollied on, mimicked. we have sunk down low, low, low.

somewhere between engaging your mouth – somewhere between start and stop – there must be a filter, heck, multiple filters. instead of the arrogant stance, the ready-go of putting someone in their place or pushing them down under the waves, the offensive weaving of untruths, the rotisserie of steroid-injected pretend-it-happened stories, perhaps there might be subtle moments of consideration. perhaps there might be the pause of checking-your-reactionary-self minutes where you attempt to take into consideration the other’s shoes and walking in them. perhaps, even more so, though quite a stretch, there might be … empathy.

but this is not a time that empathy is in vogue. this is not a time that trying to understand another’s point of view is fashionable. this is not a time that measuring your words and being mindful is favored. instead, this is a time that the space between start and stop is not infinitetismal.

this space – between start and stop – is, instead, of giant proportions. it is a space not measured by integrity or kindness. it is not thoughtful or contemplative or introspective. it is instead consumed with preoccupation of self, with selfish, unsympathetic agenda-driven drivel. it does not consider the other 100 ways. it races to the satisfied finish, like a green racehorse out of the gate, with no even gait and no finesse. there is no stop, no pause. it gallops without forethought, without watching where it is going. it is spewing.

saddle up. we all deserve better.

read DAVID’S thoughts this FLAWED WEDNESDAY


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epic. [two artists tuesday]

this is epic. epic is hiding. his sweet luminous green face peeks out from beneath a rock, the rest of his body hidden. he is earnest. he is cautious. he is aware. he studies his world – our pond. he jumps quickly away from anything he perceives as danger. bugs are his priority.

we are like epic.

in the middle of a pandemic, in the middle of political chaos, in the middle of social unrest, in the middle of economic crisis, in the middle of a nation-centric-to-hell-with-the-rest-of-the-world leadership, we peek out, hoping, as we wake the next day and the next day and the next, for less impossible news, for more hope, for sanity to emerge out of the rubble.

and then we open up the news app.

we slowly sip coffee from under our rock and peer out at a country we struggle to recognize. we are astounded by the dysfunction; we are deeply saddened by the plummeting values. we cringe at a society rapidly going backwards, downhill with ever-increasing speed and no brakes, obliterating all the progress made for decades as it barrels through, clip-engaged, single-mindedly paying no mind to real goodness.

smack-dab in the middle of our little rock on this world we can feel the danger lurking. we are earnest. we are cautious. we are aware. we study our world. our jumping-away mechanisms are at the ready. bugs are not our priority.

we are like epic. we are not like epic.

we can speak up. each of us has a voice; each of us can address the issues of this time. each of us has a vote.

and in that way, bugs, indeed insidious diseased bacillus in the system of this country, actually are our priority.

read DAVID’S thoughts this TWO ARTISTS TUESDAY


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“hide, snooze, unfollow.” [merely-a-thought monday]

the zoom meeting facilitator asked us to state a few things as we introduced ourselves: our name, our race and gender identification, what we would want our superpower to be, were we to have one.

the first woman who stated her name et al said, “i would want my superpower to be able to read people’s minds.”

i shuddered. why on earth, in the social-media-middle of seeing every single thing people are thinking and doing and opining and touting and boasting and ego-stroking and proselytizing and whining about, every place they have gone, are going, will go, every squat-thrust, deep-knee-bend, downward dog they have ever managed, every hair on the bodies of their sweet furry pets, every ingredient in every recipe for every meal, every factoid about every little atom of their lives, would you want to read people’s minds?

the others laughed and added their thoughts about this woman’s desire, but when it was my turn to respond to her superpower-wish, i said, “as an empath, i would like to NOT be able to read people’s minds.” good grief. enough already.

it has been my experience that hiding, snoozing and unfollowing are the only ways to survive some of the ugliness in social media. now, i don’t readily hide, snooze or unfollow. after all, i do want to see other thoughts on issues, different perspectives about topics where i disagree or which i haven’t given much time. but when things get ugly, and people are over-the-top, a “hide” or “unfollow” or “snooze” are good ways to save yourself a few moments of W-T-F!-exhaustion. i try to remember that these “friends” are often people i haven’t seen in many decades and will likely never see again in ‘real life’. nevertheless, i still linger in astounded feelings of betrayal.

so when i passed this post canoeing down the FB river, i laughed at the use of the term “power-user”. perhaps this person would have listed their superpower as “button-clicker”. for with that mere button-click there is self-preservation. with that mere button-click there is silence. with that mere button-click there is unity. eliminate all those who annoy you or disagree with you and you have utopia. or do you?

it would seem a pretty bland world that way. the woven threads of the country would flatten out, the tapestry no longer ripe with diverse ideas, no longer a myriad of textures, no longer heterogeneous. soporific uniformity would cover the land. and the fire beneath the melting pot would cease to burn.

read DAVID’S thoughts this MERELY-A-THOUGHT MONDAY


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it’s not about us. [k.s. friday]

it’s not about us.

it really is no longer about us. it is now about those who come behind us. it is about those who follow our footfalls and any who step in moments beyond ours. we owe them – in advance.

we owe them a country based on life, liberty for all and the pursuit of happiness.

we owe them a country truly practicing equality in every way, be it gender or race or sexual orientation or economic status or religious preference.

we owe them a country that is healthy and mindful of its environmental future, a country that has clean water, clean air, clean vegetation, clean food sources.

we owe them a country with an openly crossed aisle, where respectful conversation takes place and negotiation is paramount.

we owe them a country where leaders are cherished examples of goodness, stalwart and compassionate role models for their children and their children’s children.

we owe them a country where truth is valued, where fallacy and falsehoods are not propagated like the wind, where honor stands tall.

we owe them a country where voting makes a difference and every voice counts.

we owe them a country and policies that hold every citizen’s safety in high regard.

we owe them a country that chooses kindness.

we owe them a country where national treasures are relationships not tangibles.

we owe them a country that cares about their good health, that supports them if they are hungry, that encourages them to learn, that embraces their new ideas, that cares when wrinkles grace their faces.

we owe them a country, a world, that helps them dream.

we owe them sunrises, sunsets and moonrises that hold promise, light and hope.

it is our legacy to them. it’s not about us any more.

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read DAVID’s thoughts this K.S. FRIDAY

LEGACY from RELEASED FROM THE HEART ©️ 1995 kerri sherwood


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spud. and ptsd. [d.r. thursday]

we played spud as kids. the abby drive kids ran through yards trying to escape the inevitable impact of the ball.

i was “it” a lot. i lived next door to a family with eight children, all of whom were athletic whizzes. when one of these athletes was “it” they’d throw the ball up, call out a number and we’d scatter, in my memory, in the grass close by. the catcher of the ball – the new “it” – would easily lob the ball over to someone frozen on the lawn and that kid would be the new “it”. easy-peasy.

but – there was a tad bit of hypocrisy here. when i was called “it”, they would scatter rapidly, their feet sailing across grassy yards, barely touching as i ran for the ball to yell “spud”. and then they froze what-seemed-like miles away, hiding behind any objet d’art disguised as a towering oak or big forsythia. my measly throw, complicated by those trees and bushes, would ensure my continuation as “it”, sometimes ad nauseam. this did not make playing spud fun.

in a few ptsd moments, i just read the rules of spud online – and it appears that you are not allowed to hide behind things. you are to run out in the open so as to move the game along and pass “it” status around. ahh. somehow, i’m sure i guessed that back in 1968 when i was in the middle of catching the ball yet again and calling out “spud” yet again and throwing at the targeted kid once again. but the rules were not quite objective and, when you have a family of eight vs one or two others, you are definitely at a deficit. things are not stacked in your favor. this is probably why i loved hopscotch so much.

bullies are everywhere. we encounter them in our daily lives: at work, at school, out in public, in the political arena. they change the rules willy-nilly to suit their agenda; they justify changing them with empty words of hypocrisy.

and now, people are running spud-ptsd-scared away, hiding behind each other, their integrity underground, “it” – the truth – unable to touch them behind their objets d’art: the smug all-powerful-makes-his-own-rules-to-suit-himself senate majority leader and the sinister autocratic-wishing-wishing-wishing president of this united states. the ball, so to speak, is in their hands and they are hiding, clutching their (non) great america and its questionable future, in plain view.

it makes me want to play hopscotch.

read DAVID’s thoughts this D.R. THURSDAY

©️ 2020 david robinson


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RBG. it’s personal. [flawed wednesday]

ruth bader ginsburg. it’s personal.

i am not thinking that i will provide any new enlightenment about this extraordinary woman, for there are plenty of places you might research her groundbreaking and life-changing work, plenty of historians and writers compiling stories, timelines and amazing tomes of her accomplishments. but i can speak of the heart-stopping moment when i realized she had died.

we had not checked in with the news for a few hours. i glanced at instagram and saw that My Girl had posted a photograph of justice ginsburg. there were no words. i was immediately and deeply saddened, knowing that the chaos of 2020 would soon become even more rooted in division and that the chasm of the aisle would sink lower, into the hot fiery core of the earth.

it’s not surprising to see the hypocrisy that followed her passing. the sheer audaciousness of self-agendized dispassionate souls who have been chomping at the bit, waiting for this moment, is breathtaking, from the president down through his senate minions, all hell-bent. it is the earth quietly trembling that you feel beneath your feet as you walk through these days, reading, watching, scorn and disbelief wrinkling your brow.

but in the wake of this supreme court justice’s incredible time of service, there is no shame for those who slobber all over themselves in their zeal to replace her, to ultra-conservatize the court, to wield a time-travel incendiary to earlier times in the country when elite white men (curious how this describes those wielding as well) ruled everything and equality – equal treatment – of gender, race, sexual orientation, socioeconomic status mattered not. how easily they reach for their (metaphoric) automatic weapons to detonate all the good work that has been done, all the justice that has been served, all the good intentions set in place to further that good work. how repulsive it is to watch them spewing words they now gorge on, taking them back, making excuses, declaring their victory to stock the court, like they would an elite fish farm in the catskills.

RBG has had a profound impact on our country, on our world. the loss of her compassion, her intellect, her wisdom is, likewise, profound. it’s life-changing-devastating. it’s personal. absolutely personal. it should be personal for all.

read DAVID’s thoughts this FLAWED WEDNESDAY


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happy-lights. [two artists tuesday]

over eight months of happy-light

happy-lights. we surround ourselves with these. on the deck, on the headboard, strung on ficus trees, draping the shelf in the kitchen. there are still happy-lights at the littlehouse on island, touches that made it feel like home, tiny torches of happy.

it is astounding to us that through the dead of winter, their glimmer shining through the snows of the season, a rainy spring and a hot, hot summer these little minilights, plugged in and on 24/7, lasted over eight months on our front rail since we put them up in early december for the holiday season.

in true beaky-behavior, i am going to write this happy-light company a letter. because what person, what company, doesn’t need to hear something positive during a time of so much uncertainty.

$2.99 is marked on the box. because i know me, i know that we wouldn’t have purchased them until they were on 50% off sale. even at full price, i have to say, the twinkle of these lights outside as we pulled up in the dark, the twinkle of these lights in our dark sunroom or over the littlehouse sink, is a we-are-home reminder. it gently says to us that we are in a safe place, a place of love, a place we care about, a place of light.

perhaps this country needs to string up some happy lights. 2800 miles across the united states is 14,728,000 feet. our happy lights are 20′ of lighted joy, which means 736,400 strands of this very set. that would end up costing a tad bit over $2.2 million. but….on a 50% off sale we’re only talking $1.1 million. and wouldn’t that be an inexpensive (federal-government-spending-wise) message to all: you are home. you are safe. you are cared for. you are in a place of light. you are loved.

read DAVID’S thoughts this TWO ARTISTS TUESDAY


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what to cheer. [merely-a-thought monday]

a quote attributed to several, it appears lauren morrill first tweeted this.

for months now i have been imploring people – publicly – to wear masks. i have hoped for the simple respect of the medical guidelines of social-distancing and hand-washing, along with mask-wearing, to aid in the cessation of the pandemic. for months now i have watched people deliberately ignore the urgings of the medical and scientific experts, wearing masks arrogantly around their chins or under their noses or not at all, gathering closely, shunning the advice. it feels like asking your toddler to be nice to his infant sibling or her playground buddy – over and over and over. but toddlers learn to listen. how is it so easy to be devoid of compassion? how is it so difficult to care about others?

this country, based on supposed independence, is 331 million people inter-dependent on each other. we would cease to function were we to unlink arms in food growth and distribution, product supply, education, medicine…. it is a fool who thinks we are individually able to sustain life in these united states without each other. no matter where.

so why is it so hard to convince people to care about people? why are there rabid attendees at political rallies during a pandemic without masks, without physically distancing? why is it so hard to understand the perils of bringing covid-19 back to families, to friends, to schools, to communities? why are there unmasked motorcycle rallies where people attend and become super-spreaders? why did 65 people attend an indoor celebration in maine, thereby spreading the pandemic to 175 non-attendees, seven of whom have now died? why are people singing in places of worship when we know aerosols are aggressively contagious? why are people gathering en masse in backyards and parks sans masks, sans distancing, sans any evidence of what is really happening? why are there children and teachers in school, crowded into classrooms where social distancing is impossible? why is there any expectation that there are children at college who will not gather and party without heed to being restrictive when there are children with parents who scoff at this pandemic – how would we expect anything different? why are there people at captain mike’s without masks in a county and state that is having a surge of coronavirus? why are people screaming about their “freedoms”? surely freedom is of little value without those you love around you. surely freedom is of little use without health and stability. and yes, surely freedom isn’t free.

so why is anger so cheered on? why is leadership, so unworthy of respect on so many levels, so cheered? why are untruths so cheered on? why is the subjugation of racial, gender, sexual orientation, religious, economic differences so cheered? why is the vehement denial of anything or anyone different so cheered on? why is smug elitism so cheered? why is bigotry so cheered on? why is violence in speech and action so cheered? why are vigilantes so cheered on? why is open-carrying assault weapons in public places so cheered? why is the destruction of all the good intentions upon which this melting-pot-country was built so cheered on? why is the system of pushing down, even further, those-without so cheered?

why is it that caring about other people is not cheered on?

susan wrote that someone stole her “coexist” magnet off the back of her vehicle. sigh. why is coexisting so hard a concept?

read DAVID’s thoughts this MERELY-A-THOUGHT MONDAY


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waiting in the box. [k.s. friday]

the lines are chalked slowly in many dysfunctional relationships. unaware, you carry on, not realizing that it is closing in around you. until one day, you wake with a sense of claustrophobia and it occurs to you that you are boxed in. your actions seem to matter not; instead you are subjected to being a react-er. it’s more about treading water than it is about independent movement. it’s more about illogical punting than it is about making sense. it’s more about fear than it is about breathing.

our country is in a box. we react on a daily basis to the newest atrocities of leadership, the newest lies, the newest accusations. yet, no check or balance seems to matter and there are no consequences for this unacceptable behavior.

we tread water waiting.

we are waiting for wisdom to show up. we believe in truth-tellers. we do not believe in those whose jelly-bean-jars of untruths are brimming over.

we are waiting for real answers about the pandemic. we refuse to inject disinfectant and we absolutely choose to wear masks. we believe in science and medicine and we reject hiding the facts from a suffering nation.

we are waiting for help for those who need it: those who have lost jobs, home, security, the ability to pay bills or purchase food. we believe in a government that cares about people on all steps of the ladder and does not honor the stock market over the food lines.

we are waiting for conversation to start – a meaningful first step toward eradicating the social injustice of this country. we believe in peaceful protest and listening, not turning a deaf and bigoted ear.

we are waiting for the science of climatology to hold this good earth in its gentle hands of proactive care. we believe now is the time to show that the future matters and that disregard for this place will destroy that very future for all our children and our children’s children.

we are waiting for the ability to move about in the whole wide world again. we believe that is the only way we can learn about ourselves – to learn firsthand from others who are different than us. we believe in embracing others not repelling them.

we are waiting to not be afraid. we believe in compassion and empathy, not fear-mongering and words inciting division and hatred.

we are downright waiting for the mean-spirited, arrogant, self-agendized abusive behavior to stop.

we are waiting for the dysfunction to release its hold on the lines of the box around each of us, the populace.

we are waiting to vote.

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read DAVID’s thoughts this K.S. FRIDAY

THE BOX from BLUEPRINT FOR MY SOUL ©️ 1996 kerri sherwood


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reach to the sky. [d.r. thursday]

“the collective sense of closure we’re all longing for may never arrive. instead, brace for a slow fade into a new normal. … there will be no clear moment when we can all move on.” joe pinsker’s opinion in the atlantic “there won’t be a clear end to the pandemic” is bracing. people will come to individual ‘ends’ as the fear and risk-taking factor start to feather out. there will be no treaty or declaration of peace; instead we will start to move back into life with a little less trepidation, a little more sure-footed.

libby wrote in her post that as she looked at the photograph of people gathered together she wondered where their masks were, she wondered why she was speaking so closely, horrified she was emitting aerosols into the air so close to them. it was a photograph of 2018. but you could choose a photograph of 2019 or even early 2020 and think the same. we watched a dvd movie and it was jarring to see masses of people together, unmasked. the unthinkable has become normalized. the pandemic is here and it is now and we have no idea when or how it will end or what it will look like.

the wildfires rage in the west, the hurricanes come and flooding devastates the south. the adrenaline of social unrest is racing. the pandemic is still in bloom, whether or not people are acknowledging it. jobs and homes and healthcare and bills and security are compromised. the political climate is in chaos and full of arrogant missteps and loud untruths. we are left to sort through the apocalyptic ruins.

we look to the sky, reaching out our arms, asking the universe for a tiny break in the storms.

we pick up our masks, go outside and take a long walk under the setting sun.

visit the full painting CHASING BUBBLES in david’s virtual gallery

read DAVID’S thoughts this D.R. THURSDAY

REACH – a mo️rsel of CHASING BUBBLES © 2019 david robinson