reverse threading

the path back is the path forward


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existential love. [kerri’s blog on k.s. friday]

the universe has a way of knowing what you need – even when you don’t.

twelve years ago – in the middle of a budget truck move from seattle to this town tucked into lake michigan’s shoreline – we passed a sign that would change our lives.

the sign was hand-lettered. and it read, “aussie pups for sale”.

in odd moments of being the passenger in a vehicle, i read it aloud as we passed. and then i asked him, “what’s an aussie pup?” he told me about australian shepherds and how they are quite beautiful, intelligent, loving dogs – usually merle in color…patches of white, cocoa, black, caramel.

we had talked about wanting a dog – someday – that should be in capital letters – some day. we were just at the very, very beginning of our time living together – literally the first moments – his rocking chair and paintings and clothes and various other scaled-down paraphernalia were in the truck. i had a cat waiting at home and a dog just wasn’t in the mix envisioned for the moment – at least not that very moment. plus, it was simple: we wanted a black dog. so these aussies wouldn’t present any existential problem.

and i know you’ve heard the tale: we decided it could do no harm to look at puppies on our verylongdrive and we turned the truck around on the windy mississippi great river road, drove into the farm driveway and up the hill, parked at the top and got out. farmer don met us in the dirt driveway and we asked him about the puppies.

farmer don told us he only had one puppy left – we’d have to follow him over hill and dale to go see it at a kennel, for he was waiting for a beeper to alert him for an emergency surgery he needed to undergo.

we lumbered along, following him in our budget truck, curving around bends and up and down hills. we arrived at the kennel where we were greeted by a few energetic and gorgeous dogs. he went to get the puppy and carried him over to us. “he’s on sale. i just need to home him. he needs to be adopted. no one wants him because he’s black.”

cue the existential crisis.

we were instantly in love with him – this bundle of black fur and enthusiasm and kisses. instant decision limbo. the timing. the added responsibility. a puppy!

after an eternity of loving on this amazing little dog, we gave farmer don a small down payment and said that we needed to drive on home and decide. we told him we would call him in three days and that, either way, he could keep the deposit.

we went back and forth about a million times. dog/no-dog/dog/no-dog/dog/no-dog.

we drove back, still not knowing the answer but figuring we could decide on the way or at the moment we got there and saw the puppy again.

silly us.

of course he saw us when we arrived and ran as fast as his four short little legs could carry him. he stopped just in front of us where he sat down, ready for his new life adventure. we hugged farmer don and put this obvious blessing from the universe in littlebabyscion for the almost six hour drive back home.

dogga is 12 today, this adorable puppy who refused to answer to the names we had picked out for him and would first only answer to “tripper”. he is 12 today, this beautiful creature we were somehow gifted, whose best friend in the world became babycat, whose every move is based upon our moves, whose well-being is central to all that we do – even more particularly now that he is older and a homebody. he is 12 today and we go slower for him, make allowances for him, keep his needs in mind. he is 12 today and we have spent our entire time living together – in the early days and in our marriage – with the exception of three days – with him in our lives.

and i cannot – for the life of me – imagine it any other way.

happy birthday our precious dogdog. we love you forever. ❤️

*****

DIVINE INTERVENTION © 1995 kerri sherwood

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the lavender years. [kerri’s blog on d.r. thursday]

a couple decades ago a dear friend tied some stems of lavender together with string and gave them to me. it was a wish for peace, for calm, for comfort. one of the stringed-together stems still hangs in my studio.

sometime after that another dear friend shipped me lavender from her own yard – so that i might plant it in mine. for a time i had a lavender garden – returning each year until a neighbor’s invasive ground cover usurped my more fragile lavender.

the summer we lived on washington island we were privy to an amazing lavender farm – walkways in between beds upon beds of lavender in a field of tranquility.

a couple years ago i carefully dried some stems of lavender – hanging them in the basement – and then extracted the seeds, putting them in tiny organza bags to send to family members and close friends with wishes of healing and serenity.

in these last years we have planted big clay pots of lavender, anxiously waiting for the soft purple flowers and the scent off the breeze to lift us.

each year i am amazed by the clusters of diminutive flowers that make up the whole. each year i photograph the green stems and the tiny buds waiting to spring into bloom. each year i run my hand along the stalk and gently along the blossoming lavender, always taken by the fragrance.

it is no different this year. i sat on the deck next to the pot of lavender. my mind wandered back through the years – the lavender years – the gift of a posy, the plants flown to me across the country, the lavender in the fields on island, the lavender my girl picked out at the nursery. english lavender, french lavender, sweet romance lavender, bundles of lavender drying downstairs, beautiful sachets ready to be gifted.

we are not high-brow gardeners. our gardens are simple and have many heritage plants and things that are not complicated to grow. we know little but each year try to learn a wee bit more than we knew before.

maybe one day we will add a raised bed or two to our patio – where we might add more herbs, more vegetables, more flowers.

the thing i know we will always have – whether there is a simply a potting stand and perimeter gardens like there are now or something more – is a big pot of lavender.

*****

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but sometimes. [kerri’s blog on two artists tuesday]

we started a list. things we haven’t done before, things we’d like to do, things we’d like to repeat sometime, places we’d like to visit locally, things to explore. since we aren’t traveling this summer – on a vacation anywhere – we want to try some other things.

we added a few different herbs to our potting stand. we added dianthus and sweet potato vine to the planters on our deck. we added books to our list. we added recipes to our stockpile.

we are appreciating being home.

on friday night – just a few nights ago – we lounged in the old gravity chairs on our deck. it was cooler, the slightest of breezes off lake michigan. the air was soft. dogga was laying on the deck just feet from us. we watched the birds and the pond fountain. sipped a glass of wine. marveled at our quaking aspen. it was quiet.

we had had a hard time deciding what to do on that friday-night-date-night, as we call it. we had been thinking of driving up to milwaukee or down to a harbor in illinois where there is live music. but, for some reason, we just didn’t do either. dogga looked at us – with a big-eyed, sorrowful look – as he anticipated our departure. and we just agreed, “let’s stay home.”

dusk arrived and we finished dinner outside. not anxious to end the peaceful evening in our backyard, we stayed put.

we could spend all our time – all our words – on what is happening in and to our country and the world – and that would be a worthy thing.

but sometimes, even in the middle of all the madness that we simply cannot forget or put out of our minds, it is good to step aside, to go nowhere and do nothing, to zero in on the very simplest of things.

like the dianthus after the rain.

*****

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it is time. [kerri’s blog on merely-a-thought monday]

it was rafiki who said, “it is time.” in a pinnacle moment of the movie the lion king, mandrill rafiki – an insightful spiritual guide – discovers that simba, the lion, is still alive and declares that he must return to the pride lands and restore order and balance. simba’s life force – to defeat evil, overcome adversity, to perpetuate a legacy of the interconnectedness of life – the circle.

it is time. it is way past time.

order and balance, goodness and kindness. the concentric circles of connection.

yes. way past time. already.

in these moments – the anguish-filled, agonizing moments before the figurative return of simba – we might turn to others – next to us – near us – far away though connected with invisible filaments of love and care – and say, “i am glad for you.” the tiniest message.

in these times of so much uncertainty, so much angst and pain, so much loss and grief, so much frustration and anger, it would seem that uttering five words might be a powerful salve. thought it may not change the heinous circumstances of our current world, it will wash over the person upon whom we whisper – or shout – these words.

it may be in the post “i-am-glad-for-you” moments that one is able to – once again, tirelessly, with great courage – reach deep inside to pull up bootstraps of bravery and pushing-back, bootstraps of protest and protection, bootstraps of generosity and altruism, bootstraps of humanity.

i am glad for you.

so, be weird – extraordinarily heart-on-your-sleeve weird – and tell all those people for whom you are glad that you are glad for them. i can’t imagine that not feeling good in your soul and i can’t imagine a response that does not carry the extraordinary, raw power of this message forward.

it is time.

way past time.

*****

“i see you. you are beautiful. i am glad for you. i am glad you are here.” (michelle obama)

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show up! [kerri’s blog on k.s. friday]

with a real feel of about 105 degrees, we gathered with thousands of others to watch our son perform at PRIDE FEST in chicago. the energy was electric and the set flew by, even in the midst of an insanely hot summer day.

northalsted is a landmark LGBTQ+ neighborhood, an ultra supportive community that offers undying love and non-profit medical and mental health resource assistance to its residents. we always feel welcome there; our son’s friends and complete strangers embrace us – just as we embrace them.

this year we took the train down and uber-ed over to the event. last year we had driven down and – between PRIDE and the cubs game at wrigley field- the traffic was unbelievable and took a couple hours longer than anticipated (not to mention the tornado on the way home when we tucked littlebabyscion right next to a brick building – a closed restaurant – after we had been literally lifted up off the ground by the winds.)

the show was fantastic. there is nothing like seeing your child in their bliss. and here was our son – an EDM artist – in his skin, in his element, in his community, in his neighborhood – doing what it is he is supposed to be doing and loving every second. there is no way i would miss that. there is no way i would miss any event for either of our children – our son or our daughter – that is an expression of themselves – given simply that we know what it is, when it is and where it is. it is the nature of parenthood. it is the privilege of being a parent. it is a choice and i will choose it every time.

i know that there are many parents – hell, many people in our country – who would not – even for a second – support any such effort as attending PRIDE or supporting – in any way – a child (young or grown) in the LGBTQ community. there are those who have – horrifyingly – excommunicated gay family members, who have turned their backs on their own. there are those whose actions have undermined this community, who wish to eliminate the rights of those in this community, who endanger this community with vitriolic uninformed rhetoric and undisguised hatred. it’s a sad statement of conditionality and it absolutely breaks my heart.

if we could show up for every one of the members of this community – at every one of their personal bliss-events or in their own life-affirming moments – we would.

because if we each stand in the middle of the grace of this universe, then we each should likewise stand in the middle of loving grace for each other. it’s not that hard. it’s not really hard at all.

and the choice to be actively-accepting, unconditionally-loving can’t be more important than it is right now.

*****

CONNECTED © 1995 kerri sherwood

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to be a bird. [kerri’s blog on d.r. thursday]

we used to climb out of the bedroom window upstairs onto the flat roof. we’d pass adirondack chairs up from the deck below and experience our backyard from a “patio” spot higher up. it is always perspective-arranging to be up there. we can see further from that vantage point.

the very first day we met in person we climbed out that window onto the roof. that day i had a rug, a couple chairs, blankets and wine glasses ready. it was utterly magical and has made us dream about securing the roof structure and designing a more permanent space that we might enter through an actual door.

we haven’t climbed out the window in a while now, though we have often spoken about it and i imagine that one of these days – after the heat dome has moved on – that we will again have happy hour on the roof.

when the bird landed on the pinnacle of our roofline, i wondered what it could see. i wondered what it might be thinking as it looked upward to unlimited sky. i wondered what it might be like to be a bird – sans the complexities of living in community with other human beings.

each day we juggle the choice of participating in current-event-information-overload or divesting ourselves of all of it and hiking with nothing on our minds but PCT-someday-dreams and the snacks we carried with us.

each day – as citizens of this country – we try to understand how anyone could wish to destroy this democracy, how anyone could wish to subject other people to the inhumane cruelty we are witnessing, how anyone could wish to align with such horror.

each day we wonder about the next. we wonder what will happen. we wonder what the next few decades will look like – as we, now, are moving into a time when a few decades is all we have.

each day i am overwhelmed by the brutal reality that we – as human beings – generously graced with intelligence and the skills of critical thinking – on this stunningly beautiful mother earth – are literally incapable of living in peace.

and i wonder if the bird – perched on the tippy-top of our roof – is counting its blessings that it is a bird.

*****

read DAVID’s thoughts this D.R. THURSDAY

PRAYER OF OPPOSITES 48”x 48”

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light that fire. [kerri’s blog on two artists tuesday]

only when a fire sweeps through, melting the resin, do these heat-dependent cones open up, releasing seeds that are then distributed by wind and gravity.” (national forest foundation)

one by one we fed ten lodgepole pine cones into our small solstice fire. one by one we silently whispered a prayer, a wish, a hope for each one. one by one we watched them ignite, slowly burning off the resin and sending off invisible seeds into the universe.

it was a perfect summer night. the wind had shifted off the lake and it was at least ten degrees cooler than it had been. we sat on the back patio for hours. it was quiet, peaceful.

it seemed a good night to look to something new, to celebrate the light of the solstice, the potency of life. it seemed a good night to lean into the lodgepole’s protection from unwanted energy, from evil influences. it seemed a good night to embrace resilience and renewal.

we have saved these pinecones, ever so slowly choosing them for release from a boxful that had been gifted us by a dear friend for our wedding. her words about fire and light and rejuvenation were truly soul gifts and we hold closely these precious lodgepole pinecones.

this morning i read that pine is “generally associated with longevity and wisdom, instilling courage and optimism.”

in the coincidence of the universe, these were a few of the words i held as i watched the pinecones i added to our solstice fire burn.

wisdom, longevity, courage, optimism, resilience, renewal, light, abundance, bounty.

it would seem that our nation needs to – figuratively – gather as many lodgepole pine cones as possible.

we need protection from the evil energy and influence that now seem indelibly woven into the fabric of this nation.

we need to seed something else entirely.

light that fire.

*****

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north stars. [kerri’s blog on k.s. friday]

we pulled up to the recycling tent to drop off the computer-type equipment we had – several old printers and associated cables and plugs. we had been looking forward to this event – an earth day event held locally – in order to continue the purge of stuff, but in the most environmentally-friendly ways.

there were a few people in the tent waiting to help and we really appreciated their work volunteering. they immediately moved forward to our vehicle to help us unload.

i got back into littlebabyscion and glanced over through my fully-open window to repeat our thanks. that’s when i saw one guy glaring at littlebabyscion and saying something to someone next to him. the focus of his gaze was undeniable.

i decided instantly.

“looking at our wheels, eh?” i addressed the guy.

he looked at me, surprised to be caught in the moment, “uhhh….yeah.”

“well, they may not be fancy but this little xb has faithfully driven 280,000 miles,” i bragged.

he stammered. “wow, that’s really cool,” he managed.

“yup,” i said. and then, pretty emphatically, “you can’t judge a book by its cover!”

i’m hoping he felt a little bit sheepish after we drove away. it is not likely, but i still hope he did.

now, to be fair, littlebabyscion’s wheels are the stuff of grimace-potential. the outer layer of aluminum alloy is both peeling and rusting – but, hey, so are we – after a few hundred thousand miles. we have plans to take a steel brush to these wheels – on a non-windy day – to clean them up a bit, make them less shoddy-looking, but it hasn’t been a top priority. glimmering, shiny wheels are not as important as some other tasks or chores, so babyscion’s rims just need to get in line. besides, LBS had really shiny rims back in the day – almost 300,000 miles ago. heck, even 100,000 miles ago there was still a bit of sheen. shiny is part of who LBS has been. so, i, for one, am not going to judge this absolutely amazing little vehicle for a bit of wear or a few wrinkles in the middle of dedicated and extended mechanical life. LBS has a really good heart.

we are relatively used to just being us – in a world of people trying to be more. we are artists, remember.

and so, we are people who have walked this walk – the one of being the book judged by the cover. we have also repurposed with fervor, made-do with less, driven with not-so-perfect rims. and we stick to the be-you mantra. we are not going to participate in the judging of books by their covers. we are going to seek heart. no matter the difference, no matter the sameness – we believe that being you – the best and most filled-with-goodness you – is all you can or should be. and we are here to lift you up in that. we are not going to grimace or glare or make snide comments at you in your pursuit of goodness. our job – as humans – with kindness and generosity and acceptance and grace our north stars – is to be us and to let you be you.

hopefully hearts are more important to you than shiny rims.

*****

GRACE © 2010 kerri sherwood

read DAVID’s thoughts this K.S. FRIDAY

 

LBS…a few years ago….

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hopeseekers. [kerri’s blog on d.r. thursday]

“hope begins in the dark, the stubborn hope that if you just show up and try to do the right thing, the dawn will come.” (anne lamott)

and so, one step at a time – though the path is rugged and the way is not clear – we keep hoping. and trudging. toward the light.

each day, after my brain clears from the fog of sleeping, i remember. each morning i am stunned back into awakeness. today was no different.

i woke up and – after i remembered – i thought about five months ago. it feels like an eternity. and yet here we are. in the middle of a coalescence of horrific.

and, even after millions of americans marched and protested in the streets of this nation, we are still here – at the precipice of autocracy.

and i wonder what will pierce the darkness that is descending upon a land so bright with potential. i wonder what will actually stop the brutality, the cruelty, the apathy, the greed. i wonder at all the people showing up, trying to do the right thing, all the people waiting for the dawn.

when my children were little i did not let them use the word ‘hate’. i also tried – best as i could – to not allow them to say ‘shut up’. big issues at the time.

i look at the children of today – listening to or watching the current administration of this nation – and shudder to think of what kind of clean-up one must do as a parent to explain away the horribleness of the vile messaging of this regime, what kind of debriefing one must do as a parent to help children process the atrocities they are witnessing, what kind of protection one must resort to as a parent to shield children from the hatred spewing into the air of this country.

it makes saying ‘shut up’ seem like child’s play. particularly in a country where lies and false narrative abound, where rights are being stripped from the populace, where sadistic, escalating violence is being blatantly encouraged, where i’m certain many of us – the stubborn hopeseekers – would love to just scream “shut up!!!” every time the wanna-be-dictator opens his mouth.

*****

weeping man 48″ x 36″

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it’s not that hard. [kerri’s blog on not-so-flawed wednesday]

we came upon the bird while walking on the waterfront a town south in illinois. because it didn’t fly away as we approached, we became concerned. i knelt down in front of it – not touching it – to see if it was hurt. and then – because it is the thing to do – i google-imaged it.

this tiny bird was a starling. a juvenile. even likely, a fledgling. this darling little bird just stood its ground, tentatively trusting us, shifting its position, turning around, spreading its wings, tweeting silently with its beak. but nothing seemed wrong and our research pointed to a tired little bird learning to fly just stoking up a little energy. so we walked on, knowing that we would check on it just a bit later to see if it had flown off. we also knew that if it hadn’t – if it was still on the boardwalk – we would carefully take it to a bird sanctuary. we worried aloud during the rest of our walk until we got back to the same spot and the little starling had flown off.

it’s not really all that hard to love. because, well, love is love – as the saying goes.

it’s not really all that hard to care about peoples’ well-being – even if you don’t know them – to care about creatures’ well-being – even if they are wild – to care about the world’s well-being – even if you have not seen much of it. because love is love.

i am reminded – time and again – of the poem prayer written by belleruth naparstek:

“just give me this: a rinsing out, a cleansing free of all my smaller striving so i can be the class act god intended, true to my purpose, all my energy aligned behind my deepest intention.

and just this: a quieting down, a clearing away of internal ruckus, so i can hear the huge stillness in my heart, and feel how i pulse with all creation, part and parcel of your great singing ocean.

and this too: a willingness to notice and forgive the myriad times i fall short, forgetting who i really am, what i really belong to.

so i can start over, fresh and clean, like sweet sheets billowing in the summer sun, my heart pierced with gratitude.”

every day. another chance to be billowing sheets.

*****

read DAVID’s thoughts this NOT-SO-FLAWED WEDNESDAY

 

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