reverse threading

the path back is the path forward


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the posers amidst. [kerri’s blog on flawed wednesday]

for a potato pretending to be a pear, this potato is not doing a great job. “poser!” 20 said, looking at the potato on the counter. we all laughed. and then i took out the peeler and cut it up to boil in the pot and make mashed potatoes. some posers are harmless.

i read the comments on facebook, grimacing. i get a certain pain in my heart when i see this sort of thing. here was a person hoo-rah-ing someone else’s achievement. now, that sounds like a good thing, yes? only in this case, this person – the one doing the hoo-rah-ing – had voted against the rights and freedoms and safety of the person whose achievement they were hoo-rah-ing. a transaction. this kind of poser is a hypocrite. this kind of poser is harmful, for this kind of poser can not be trusted.

i had a lengthy call with old friends on the phone this week. they told of a relative with whom they had conversation. the relative is dedicated to the new administration and its agenda, touting the good hard work the oligarch and his cohort-the-prez are doing for this country. my friends asked how she felt about USAID and this country’s new administration’s position lacking responsible compassion. she had no idea what USAID was. this person is a poser citizen, a poser voter. and this kind of poser is dangerous.

if you are planning on wholeheartedly sticking with the direction this administration is heading – where they have already taken us – then i would merely suggest you get yourself informed. read. research. ask questions. watch news that is factual – something that is not fox news, one america network or any “state tv” that conveniently forwards only things that make this evil self-serving administration look like brilliant people who care about the populace. find out what the ramifications of project 2025 might be to people you purport to care about, to issues you feel are important, to any sense of compassion you think you have.

be careful not to speak out of both sides of your mouth at the same time. you simply can’t have it both ways. be consistent. be honest. be transparent. don’t pretend to care about things or people you vehemently voted against.

you either are – in favor of all this evil – or you aren’t. own it. anything else is posing.

*****

read DAVID’s thoughts this FLAWED WEDNESDAY

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cammy. [kerri’s blog on two artists tuesday]

we commonly talk for our dogga. we talked for our babycat as well. we talk for wildlife in the woods. we talk for other drivers on the road. i talk for my toes. d talks for his knees. we pretty much animate anything.

including this veiled chameleon.

we rarely go to pet stores. but when we do go to a pet shop, it is with our hearts on our sleeves. this time the chameleon captured us.

i realize that he is being fed and watered (hopefully) properly and that his environment will be changed as he grows, but i couldn’t help but feel a sense of sadness as i watched him clawing at the glass of his terrarium.

as if he could understand what was happening in this chaotic world – sensing it perhaps – we stood with him, inches away, and interpreted the look on his face.

and in the strange way that all of us inhabitants of this earth somehow align, i was feelin’ it too. rejecting the idea that i was projecting my thoughts onto this small reptile, i told him that we were on the same page – with our shock, our dismay, our pointing fingers, our plea for a plan to make the chaos stop. we were one for these moments – cammy and me – and, in these same moments, i was reminded – once again – of how all the creatures – interconnected – human and critter – on this good earth could care about each other.

it’s been balmy the last couple days and we have been out on the trail, immersed in the beauty of the whole tapestry. i would bet that all of the people involved in the destruction of this country aren’t outside much. they have little to no perspective about how small they really are. somehow the almighty dollar has usurped any sense of camaraderie with the beings of the universe, somehow the climactic high of power has decimated their hearts and consciences. somehow they have lost it all while trying to seize it all.

we visited cammy again before we left the store. i whispered to him that i wouldn’t forget him. he whispered back the same. we exchanged a “what-now???” look that doubled as “get-me-outta-here”.

we walked toward the double doors that opened as we approached just as cammy went back to clawing the glass.

*****

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we need be brave. [kerri’s blog on merely-a-thought monday]

it’s not like we initially had a choice.

boom! we were born. and there we were…wherever that was. random.

i often wondered why i wasn’t born into a family with trust funds and fabulous wealth. in recent times, i have decided that if this sort of status-in-life comes with the measures of evil we are witnessing from the oligarchs now at the helm of the country-ship, then i am glad i was spared.

and so, i am where i am. grateful for all that has been bestowed upon me.

the thing i have definitely learned – in my time here – is how brave one must be to be here.

we were sitting around the dinner table, lingering long with wine and conversation, when shelly said, “it takes the brave to come here.”

though at the time she wasn’t speaking about immigration, i would hasten to say that it clearly applies in that sense.

what i felt she was talking about was the transfer of amorphous soul to human being. here – this earth – is not an easy place – it has complications and complexities, egos and hard hearts, fragile love and steadfast commitment to it, dashed dreams, forgivenesses, betrayals and successes, personal perils and impossible challenges. definitely not easy.

to prevail in such a place – sans tough skin – is to ride a tide of emotion – upheaval with a smidge of smooth sailing here and there. but – as i have witnessed from so many others – somewhere along the way one reaches in and pulls bravery up from the depths. because it takes brave.

choosing right now to stand up, speak up, speak out, to not be silent, to not turn away demands that same bravery. here is not what it used to be and – watching the disintegration of everything i have known as this country – requires more than a morsel of courage.

sometimes we feel like an island – surrounded by louder voices that cheer on the nasty. aggression is at a peak; self-serving aggrandizement of the new administration’s agenda is a slap in the constitutional face of this nation.

we turn to those who will have conversation, those who will commiserate, those who will help to balance out the fear and angst we feel. we are all trying to be brave as we look history in the eyes and witness the systematic taking-down of our democracy.

personal perils we have had or have currently in our lives aside, there is a fundamental change happening here – for everyone in the masses.

we need be brave, have courage, be stalwart, lift our voices up.

every day we have awakened in our lives there has been something we have defeated – if only a tiny cold germ or an unkind word from another. we each came here – from some other dimension – to accomplish something, to be something, to contribute something.

i hope that we can be examples of a Here where others less fortunate than us want to be, where the brave are not only the immigrants seeking a better life, a better community, but the brave are us as well – stubbornly refusing to give over to the unconscionable, instead offering that better life, that better community – to others as well as ourselves.

we need all be brave. not the false bravado of the evil-intended, but the love-filled courage of people who are here – on this earth – working and living together, to sustain, to thrive.

*****

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every little thing. [kerri’s blog on k.s. friday]

“the sun is coming out,” i told him. “i can hear it on the siding.”

it will be the littlest things, i believe. the smallest details, the tiniest noticings that will help us personally get through this. much of what seems to be planned for the populace will affect us. according to project 2025 – aka this ugliest administration’s agenda – we are those people. we are the masses.

with no idea how low this will go – though we suspect “hellish” may not suffice as an adjective – we will need to zero in on that which might bring a moment of light, a bit of joy, a sliver of hope.

and it’s only been 43 days, 1 hour, 43 minutes and 23 seconds since the inauguration (as i write this.). by the time this publishes it will be 45 days, 18 hours.

if we can assume that there will be another inauguration – and that seems a large assumption considering how far down the authoritarian hellhole we are being flung – it will be in 1417 days, 22 hours, 14 minutes and 8 seconds (as i write this), 1415 days, 18 hours by the time this publishes.

that’s a very long time. and a lot of hell between here and there.

i am holding a lot of stress in my body right now. merely blowing my hair dry this morning yielded a strained back intercostal muscle, making it hard to breathe. each day there is something that makes it intensely clear that i am not relaxed, the least of which is waking up achy every morning – even after a full night’s sleep. i trust i am not alone in this. we are all enduring serious worry and anxiety, raging anger, intense grief, raw fear. there is no real way for our minds or hearts or bodies to escape it.

but we try.

and in looking for the most meditative time, in looking for joy, in holding onto laughter and playfulness best as we can, in paying attention to the beauty right around us, we will seek out anything and everything that might help, any sign of comfort, any inkling of something positive.

so when i could hear the siding creaking – a sure sign that the sun was coming out from behind the clouds, it seemed apt to mention it.

because every little thing counts right now.

*****

TAKING STOCK copyright 2010 kerri sherwood

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

there is something deeply rewarding about hiking on a snow-covered trail.

at any moment, you can turn around and see evidence of your having been there, evidence of your passing-through. there is no question. you have been there.

for us, the imprint of our hiking shoes meshed with a couple other boots, hoof prints of deer, tiny handprints of raccoons, the triangular prints of bunnies, the familiar prints of squirrels with a few dog paw prints and horseshoes. we had all passed by. separately. together. in community.

in the quietude of the snowscape, we pushed on a bit further. it had been a bit since we had been hiking outside – the weather was frigid and there were other things on our plate. but the peacefulness of the woods, the partially-frozen river, the familiar wind of the trail kept us going on this day.

though there is less variation in color on this winter’s day, there are innumerable textures and the fine differences in muted tones are peaceful, surrounding us in hushed comfort – like an old quilt – despite the cold wind.

this particular trail is an out-and-back. and so, we encountered our own footprints in every turn of the path on our way back. anyone hiking after us would wonder who had walked before, just as we wondered the same.

arriving at the trailhead and then littlebabyscion we were tired. but ever reminded that we each choose our path. we choose what to leave behind – our prints on the world – our existing – from the boots we wear to the care we have for all else on our path. we are cohabitants on this good earth. it is up to each of us us to sustain mutual respect in the all-too-finite.

there will be some evidence of our passing-through. it is my hope that what we leave – in the snow, in the dirt, in any wake we leave from our time here – will be as peaceful as this muted winter day on our trail.

*****

read DAVID’s thoughts this D.R. THURSDAY

INSTRUMENT OF PEACE – mixed media 48″ x 91″

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the american dream. [kerri’s blog on two artists tuesday]

we spoke quietly to them as we hiked. they seemed to be everywhere that day…on the trail, in the brush, by the river. they watched us; we watched them. we told them they could trust us, that we would not hurt them in any way. they didn’t flee, instead, aware of us, grazing a bit, snuffling in the snow. it is my hope that they felt no danger from us. when we hiked on, they moseyed, unhurried, beautiful innocence graceful through the snowy woods.

no danger. it was not that long ago when we did not feel impending danger.

all that has changed. rapidly.

and suddenly, we are thrust into a country where all is at peril. we are standing and staring at the unchecked mob taking over our democracy, at the purely evil intention permeating the administration that is destroying every vestige of the american constitution.

we watched hgtv the other night. there was a couple looking for a house in north carolina, specifically in rocky mount – where martin luther king, jr first spoke his “i have a dream” speech. as they visited houses, they remarked excitedly about one, “this is the american dream!!”

i grimaced. for what – exactly – is now the american dream?

is it destroying the foundation upon which this country was built? is it the annihilation of civil rights, of freedoms, of the helping programs in this country? is it stripping opportunity-for-all in favor of opportunity-for-only-a-very-few? is it adding to the income of a few billionaires, while decimating the lives of billions of ordinary folks, undermining any stability they might have had? is it aligning with authoritarians around the world, ignoring long-time allies and neighbors? is it gleefully watching people die in wars, in famine, in disease while shaving aid so that the wealthiest among us might not participate in paying taxes? is it deporting millions of innocent people who have been seeking a better life, contributing to our communities? is it living inside – and capitulating to – the maniacal sickness in the soul-less minds of the new administration? is it standing by, silently applauding your own bigotry? what exactly is the american dream?

if you are not deeply embarrassed by what is happening in these un-united states, i have no idea what is in your heart.

we are all at risk. there is impending danger.

“every life is a march from innocence, through temptation, to virtue or vice.” (lyman abbott)

we are watching you – those of you who voted for this desecration of our country, for the scourge running the show.

so, which is it?

is your american dream virtue or vice?

*****

read DAVID’s thoughts this TWO ARTISTS TUESDAY

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in the seats of america. [kerri’s blog on d.r. thursday]

i would rather drive than be driven. relatively easily solvable. i would rather fly than be flown. there is one teensy problem with that one though. i do not have the qualifications to fly a jet airplane. and so, if i wish to travel via jet from one place to another, i have to give it up – control, that is.

for me, it is not so much about control as it is about motion sickness. if my brain – sans bonine/dramamine/large quantities of ginger chews – can see what my intention is as i drive/fly, than i am able to go with the flow, so to speak, and my equilibrium seems to adjust. i never did get a pair of those funky anti-motion-sick glasses, so that is one thing i haven’t tried. but wearing a pair of those – in addition to a mask – onboard an airplane is sure to get me some looks.

i was nervous when my children were little and i had to fly places – away from them – for concerts or shows. giving over control to someone i did not know at the helm required more than a bit of trust for me. i had to consciously work at it once i was a mom, with much prayer and self-talk throughout the flights. ultimately, as time went by and i safely arrived at venues and back home, i learned – slowly – to give over, to trust that the person in the pilot’s seat had all of our best interests at heart. i learned – slowly – to utter a prayer for her or his clearheadedness and expertise, sit back and relax a little.

but now times are different. we just recently flew – pretty much right after a couple aircraft disasters had taken place and many FAA personnel had been fired – introducing more risk – and i found myself wishing we had had the option to drive. trust me, i do know that driving is more dangerous than flying, but – remember – i get to be behind the wheel so it all feels a little different. i managed to keep my calm and fly – several legs – out west and back.

but the idea of control has stuck with me.

because here we are – in the seats of america – with madmen at the helm. here we are – sitting in a democracy being taken apart, being dismantled piece by piece. here we are – citizens of a country in which every check and balance is going unchecked, where oversight is being eliminated, where the core of our republic is being shredded.

this is most definitely a time to be absolutely worried about control. the risk is monumental, the potential loss world and life-changing. this is not a time to trust nor to give over. this is a time to be wary, to not sit back, to not relax. they do not have our best interests at heart.

“there are times when fear is good. it must keep its watchful place at the heart’s controls.” (aeschylus)

*****

read DAVID’s thoughts this D.R. THURSDAY

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count on dogga. [kerri’s blog on two artists tuesday]

sometimes – these days – it is simply his smile that keeps us grounded.

sometimes – these days – it is a belly-belly or a dogga kiss that helps us feel our feet, centered in our home.

sometimes – these days – it is his sensitivity to the tenor of the room that keeps us from getting too loud, too angry, too upset.

a few days ago i had a very hard day. i’m guessing i am not out of the ordinary; i’m guessing this is not unusual – these days.

i felt – particularly after my revelations from my call with my dear old friend from new york – that we were on a tiny island, out of balance.

we – like you, i’m sure – have been through so much in the last few years. and, i guess, because we have been coast-ers (d the west, me the east) – more easily candid, despite whatever others’ reactions are to our tales – woe, included – we have shared about them – with family, with friends, with whomever chooses to read our blogs.

but we have found that sharing our intense feelings can be disconcerting. there is most definitely this thing in this part of the land that dictates what you share. if you don’t wish to tell how you feel, you just simply ignore the question about how you feel. it’s a weird phenomenon. and frustrating. it is hard to be an open book when others don’t crack open their binding.

and so – the other day – outside of the pure constant stream of consciousness d and i share with each other – i was pining for shared deep conversation, for shared grief, for the shared pondering of unanswerable questions, unfathomable challenges. i did not want pity. i wanted two-way sharing, raw human interaction. i wanted to cry and scream – both. i did cry. watching dogga watch me prevented me from screaming.

it feels absolute that we need to be in this chaos together. we need to join together in like-mindedness and push back against the continued takeover of our country. we need to share the gut-wrenching sorrow of losing family and friends to this pervasive illness of extremism. we need to share our worries about our future and the future of our children and our children’s children.

bottom line? we need to talk. because actually talking about it all doesn’t make it worse. it quite possibly helps. you know, the meeting-together, the walking-in-another’s-shoes thing, the heartfelt compassion, the reality check, the let’s-sort-this-together, the we-are-here-for-you. the two-way street.

it makes me absolutely crazy when people act like nothing is happening. i want to beg, “open your eyes! we need to talk about this!”

but – instead – there are a few we share with, a few we trust with our deepest musings, our biggest fears, the trauma we are all enduring, what is really happening in our very own personal lives. the rest – like many – we filter.

and in that very short list of whole-heart-sharers, dogga is one of them. he holds things in confidence and we can always count on him to react emotionally and with – seeming – empathy. like he gets it.

and then he smiles his getting-older smile at us – holding our hearts and reminding us that his unconditional love is unconditional.

time after time he saves the day. even in these days. every single day.

*****

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the tommys. [kerri’s blog on merely-a-thought monday]

there is a point that dumbing-it-down is to the point of ridiculous.

this sign – “this is a healing environment. aggressive behavior has no place here.” – was in a hospital elevator.

has humankind reached the outer-limit of insanity?

it made me feel physically ill to see this sign posted at the hospital. and yet, i’m guessing some people actually need the reminder. for aggression seems to be totally acceptable these days – even revered.

the second part of the sign spelled out what aggressive behavior is. as if those tending toward violence need a checklist of those things they should think twice about.

when tommy repeatedly twisted my wrist in elementary school – on the playground in third or fourth grade – i knew it was violent. though they tried to convince me that it was a form of affection – just teasing – i (and my reddened, sore wrist) knew better. i’ve actually seen him on social media in days of late – he is way down the rabbit hole, passing on vapid misinformation, his language usage aggressive, his bully tone the same as it was on the playground when he refused to stop twisting my wrist, when he refused to apologize. tommy has not changed.

apparently we do need to gear down – to spell out what violence is, what violence does, how violence destroys. and yet…though we are seeing – firsthand – the fallout of this administration’s brutal slashing of our democracy, the people who voted for this – and also being harmed by the vicious slash-and-burn – are still supporting this aggression.

for that is what it is. aggression.

and again, i am astonished by the level of bamboozle in which they have gleefully participated. i am astonished by the level of worship they have bestowed upon bullying leaders who could care less about them. i am way beyond disappointed to watch the same people i have known – or loved – for decades actively take part in disenfranchising others, in shredding the rights of so many living in this democracy, in violent rhetoric and action.

these last years – particularly since 2016 – have shown that so many of this country’s people have fallen prey, drowning in ignorance. they have given up any iota of critical thinking skills, have turned over their sanity to live inside the sicknesses of these destructive leaders. they have screamed and insurrected and forwarded lies and they have blasphemed – in word and deed – all that we believed them to have been, all that they pretended to be. they – apparently – need the sign in the hospital elevator in order to know how to behave, to be decent human beings.

it is all around us, this full-out aggression. in every arena. so much so that a place of healing has to put up signs.

it’s pathetic.

the tommys are winning.

*****

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the imperative of peace. [kerri’s blog on k.s. friday]

dreamy.

many other adjectives came to mind to eloquently describe lake tahoe, but dreamy seems to fit the best right now.

in the way that sometimes happens with monumental beauty, i instantly felt a sense of peace descend over me…exactly what i needed.

for this has been a time. and i – like you – am filled to the brim, yearning for something different, something that builds up and does not tear down, something that is positive, filled with grace and not negative and filled with hatred. already, this is all exhausting. already, i am exhausted. we – all of us – have lost so much. and, though hopefully this will change – something will stop this destruction of our sea to shining sea – things will never be the same. betrayal has left its mark on us.

and so, the sight of this lake in the distance, as we approached, up close and personal, was balm for my spirit and i felt it wash over me.

some places are like that. you instantly feel a kinship with the vista, grounded by its simple, natural beauty. after all, this is merely mountains, forest and lake. nothing manufactured, nothing contrived, quietude with the potential for a tranquility that is so very powerful.

we do not live near this stunning landscape, but we do live in a landscape of our own. and i know that we must look to it for salve, for soothing us, for a balance of goodness against all the evil being perpetrated upon our country. clearly, we need to deal with the reality of what is happening here. clearly, we need to rejuvenate from the reality of what is happening here.

i think we need do that any which way we can.

there is a lot ahead of us. everything we have known is grotesquely distorted and people we have known have actively participated in that. it is the stuff of bad dreams. and we each are waking up to the horror of it all. as we brush the real-life nightmare from our eyes and wake to another day of fighting to keep our democracy, it is incumbent upon us to bring strength and resolve and a bit of peace from which we might draw these.

we will be looking everywhere we can for that peace, to join with it. it is an imperative.

“now he walks in quiet solitude the forests and the streams / seeking grace in every step he takes / his sight has turned inside himself to try and understand / the serenity of a clear blue mountain lake…” (john denver – rocky mountain high)

*****

PEACE © 2004 kerri sherwood

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