reverse threading

the path back is the path forward


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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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tiny cup. [kerri’s blog on two artists tuesday]

this flower looks like Love to me.

it is our new elsa sass peony, grown from a root that was gifted to me last fall.

we planted it carefully, following every instruction, with the eyes of the root system facing up, in exactly the right depth of soil. it was all new to us and we were eager to learn how to properly care for this amazing flower. i placed painted rocks at the site of this root and an amalia olson we also planted. and then we waited. and through fall and into cold winter and then, finally, spring, we waited.

and then, in later april, the maroon sprouts appeared. there were a plethora over by where our one other peony is – the one with hot pink blooms, a transplant from a friend’s garden that zealously grows each spring. and there were a couple tiny sprouts by our painted rocks, indicators of at least the possibility of a little success. i took photographs and was pretty excited.

these are small plants this year, only a few stems. yet they each had a couple buds – tightly wound – promises of blooms. and so we kept a watchful eye and carefully placed fencing to prop them up – these fragile stems against the spring storms.

the pink peonies exploded into being. their scent wafted through our backyard and into the open windows of our house. it is an amazing display of color, a celebration of flower!, a double peony orchestral reminder of beauty.

and then, ever so slowly, the elsa sass opened to the sun. the white bloom – like a cup of petals – in slow motion, responding to a few warmer, sunnier midwest days.

i would have been absolutely content if this bloom had simply stayed exactly like this. i was taken by its sheer beauty, its purity, overwhelmed by its sweet fragrance.

maybe it’s the state of the world, the tenuousness of our land. maybe it’s an inventory of time – both that which has gone by and that which is ahead of us. maybe it’s simply presence – the moments gazing at something so beautiful you can hardly believe its perfection. in any case – for whatever the reason – i was obsessed with this stunning flower.

this one blossomed peony – this one bud that slowly unwound its way into the world – was a light for me. it filled me up. it reminded me to breathe. and – in the most-amazing way – this tiny cup of petals lay bare the lesson to hold gently all within me.

*****

read DAVID’s thoughts this TWO ARTISTS TUESDAY

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choose radical love. [kerri’s blog on merely-a-thought monday]

chosen family.

“the powerful, loving bonds formed between individuals who are not biologically related but who choose to be family…highlighting the strength of these non-traditional family units and the unconditional love they provide.”(the trevor project)

so, dna ain’t everything.

i, for one, have found it personally shocking at times to be related to my similar-dna-stranded relatives. particularly now. for one – incorrectly – assumes that one is aligned with those in one’s family – with values and love and respect leading the way. this, however, is not always true. and – shockingly – families, like friends or colleagues, are quite capable of throwing others under the bus. shocking, indeed.

so we seek those who support us, who support our world view, who challenge and push, who protect, who encourage others to be their best and most authentic self.

in this – incredibly the 21st century – with a twisted administration – we are faced with making decisions of estrangement – boundary setting that is squarely focused on the upholding of each other and our rights and freedoms. it is impossible to pretend to be “family” if members have chosen to undermine the rights and freedoms of other members. dna schmee-n-a.

a week ago we spent the weekend attending milwaukee pride events at which our EDM artist son performed. his friends welcomed us with hugs and dancing and conversation. we were embraced and felt the love. i cannot imagine why anyone would reject or endanger such a community – LGBTQIA – so inclusive of all. it is incomprehensible.

one of his friends came up to us while we were dancing and drew us close in to talk above the music. “if i had parents like you, i’d have everything,” he said into our ears. i cried as he walked away.

my grown children have a wonderful father. they have a generous-of-spirit stepmom who cares about them. they have me. and they have david, who has been supportive in every way that a caring father can be. they are every much his children in this last decade. we all share them and join together as the circle of one-generation-previous people around them who want them to be their best and most authentic selves. isn’t that what parenthood is? they are just lucky enough to share dna with two of the four of us. but we are all their parents.

these are days of non-traditional. we are fortunate to live in these days – days of wisdom and cultivated illumination – when love is simply love and the bonds of family extend beyond ancestry lines. i can only hope that we all celebrate each other – in our differences and in our sameness. we can seek family with bonds based on unconditional love and support. if we can look at our biological families and freely choose each other, we are lucky. if our own families endanger others or refuse to see or value them, it is incumbent upon us to draw lines in the sand. this life keeps ticking. it would seem infinite love – acceptance, inclusion, belonging – would be the way to live these tiny lives we get.

be the people whom others choose. “chosen families have helped queer people survive and experience radical love and joy at a time when their rights, and in some cases their very lives, are threatened.” (alex welch)

radical love and joy. life is too short for anything else.

*****

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

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this land. [kerri’s blog on d.r. thursday]

right between the best fried-rice-restaurant and the grocery store is a farmer’s field. i wonder how long it will be there. there is something very wisconsin about this field and it’s somehow reassuring to see it planted instead of cleared and flagged and waiting for some random building to be built.

on our drive out to one of our woodsy trails we used to pass many farmers’ fields. not so much anymore.

instead, there are massive warehouses – like a crop of giant metal and cement buildings, all trying to disguise their existence with berms created between the gigantic loading-dock-loaded warehouses and the road. as if that negates their impact on what was out-in-the-county, what was farmland, what was natural resource, what was picturesque, what was wisconsin.

i’m not sure how many national parks i have been to – there are many – i’d have to make a comprehensive list. add to that state parks and county parks and city parks and there are many places i have cherished, full of nature, beauty, legacy. i do know that there are so many more i would like to visit, to engage with, places to be in wonder. if you have ever had even a moment of stillness outside – reverent in the middle of the middle of vast beauty – you likely understand.

but in the middle of the middle of all of the chaos in this country right now, among other atrocities there is lurking an attempted takeover of our national parks. there is an administrative desire to deforest, to mine, to drill – all in the name of the almighty dollar. it is unconscionable to think of these national treasures stripped of their gloriousness. i cannot imagine the kind of shortsightedness that overrides good sense, the kind of greed that overrides the protection of these lands and the wildlife that depends on them. i cannot imagine the embrace of climate-change denialism, of the irresponsibility of environmental ruin. i cannot imagine the cavalier attitudes of people who just don’t care about anything but making more and more and even-more money.

but – even right here – right in southeastern wisconsin on backroads that used to be charming – companies riding on the oligarch-wagon have bought up land and changed the landscape. and it will never be the same.

it is incumbent upon us – as heirs of this land – to protect our national parks, to speak up, to speak out, to resist the decimation – before we lose it all.

*****

read DAVID’s thoughts this D.R. THURSDAY

EARTH INTERRUPTED VI – 50.25″ x 41″ – david robinson

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free to be. [kerri’s blog on two artists tuesday]

no matter how many fresnels, how many gels, how many follow spots, how many tracks, how much confetti, how many bubbles, how many furries – it does not match the energy in the giant pavilion as it built through their performance.

our son and his musical EDM duo partner aced their set – their music setting the heartbeat – and, from a new vantage point in the middle of the crowd, it was sheer joy to watch.

PRIDE milwaukee was a celebration of freedom – freedom to respectfully love whomever you choose to love. there is nothing like being embraced and encouraged by a festival-sized crowd to be whoever you are. it’s like there was a mash-up of the words of cher’s “believe” and marlo thomas’ “free to be” ringing in my ears. empowering. tolerance.

and i stood in the middle of all of these thousands of people – all just being who they are, all dancing and laughing and hugging and feeling in their skin – wondering how anyone can reject acceptance, how anyone can squelch love and draw parameters, how anyone can vote against LGBTQ rights and freedoms, how anyone can wish to instill fear in a community, how anyone can righteously think they are above others.

i was proud to be at PRIDE.

one of our son’s friends said, “you are such supportive parents.”. i thought to myself – wow – that’s redundancy at its best – “supportive” and “parents”. aren’t they one and the same?

yes, i was proud to be at PRIDE.

on saturday night, surrounded by thousands of others, i danced with my hands to the sky, grateful to be here in this community of people loving people, granting each other the freedom to be, grateful to choose to be a mom who was there.

and then, the reality of right-now crept in.

and i thought about the peril part. the danger of this precipice between democratic freedom and autocratic elimination of rights, of silencing LGBTQ, of the denial of acceptance and empowerment and support.

and i thought of the deplorable act of voting for this abhorrent administration – against family members or friends or people in one’s own community.

i thought about ALL the cruel policies, sweeping up and discarding in the name of xenophobia and racism, banning rights, freedoms, hotlines to help, books, HIV/AIDS resources in the name of homophobia, gleefully destroying healthcare, food security, assistance in the name of oligarch wealth. it’s sickening.

“there’s a land that i see/where the children are free/and i say it ain’t far to this land from where we are/take my hand, come with me/where the children are free/come with me, take my hand, and we’ll live

in a land where the river runs free/in a land through the green country/in a land to a shining see/and you and me are free to be/you and me

every boy in this land grows to be his own man/in this land, every girl grows to be her own woman/take my hand, come with me/where the children are free/come with me, take my hand, and we’ll run

to a land where the river runs free/to a land through the green country/to a land to a shining sea/to a land where the horses run free/to a land where the children are free

and you and me are free to be/and you and me are free to be/and you are me are free to be you and me” (1972…free to beyou and me – stephen lawrence/bruce hart)

and, astonished at the speed at which evil takes over, i wondered: where did this land go?

*****

read DAVID’s thoughts this TWO ARTISTS TUESDAY

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

“you have the right to be yourself.” (aclu wisconsin)

there are few places with more evidence of this than PRIDE festivals. the wholehearted acceptance of one person to another is a theme on loop. it is a gift to attend such a celebration of people loving people.

and isn’t that the way it should be?

and yet, persons in this country, in some warped and perverted place in their brains and hearts – have decided that erasing the right to be oneself is their calling – leading with hate, placing the LGBTQ community under siege – people all complicit in the marginalization, disenfranchisement and endangering of this community with their hurrahing of rolling back protections of freedoms, mandating discrimination, and weaponizing federal law against transgender people.

when there is precious little time to start with in our mortal existence, how is it that so many people have so much time to spend on reviling of and cruelty to other people?

the american civil liberties union fights to protect, defend and expand civil rights and liberties.

because everyone has a right to be themselves.

the aclu of wisconsin “envisions a just society in which the dignity of every person is respected and our collective liberation is realized.”

imagine. a place where we simply love one another, support one another – as best we can.

to take every moment and maximize your time in it. to have compassion. to exercise kindness. to extend goodness. to embrace each other. to push back against oppression.

to generously allow each and every person to be true, to be authentic, to be themselves in every respectful and loving way.

“be yourself. everyone else is already taken.” (oscar wilde)

you have the right.

*****

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

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the way of the dandelion. [kerri’s blog on k.s. friday]

aaaaaah.

no one really prepares you.

every single bit of the dandelion that is you is unprepared for the flight of the fluffy feathery pappus of the puffball off and beyond.

though the flight of these filaments is your ultimate goal – to give lift to these children who have merely been loaned to you for a time – their jet-stream-like flight takes you by surprise, leaves you a little breathless and a little astounded as you watch them fly, dispersed by the wind. your hearts – the extra ones that were birthed in you at the time of their arrival – clench a little in the moment of their departure, wonder at the very, very big change in how you are then defined in the world.

and you realize, perhaps, that you suddenly understand how your own sweet momma (and dad) felt. the moment they retired and moved. the moment you moved away, likely to not return to live in their locale again. the moment you no longer stop by at any old time. the moment it required more planning, more travel, more arrangements to see each other.

and you try to adjust – your little dandelion heart works hard to put it all into perspective, to recognize the natural order of things, to grok that this is the way of the universe – birth, growth, independence. it is the way of the dandelion. as beautiful as it was, the yellow flower was not the pinnacle; the puffball is essential for these amazing children to go, to become, to make their mark on the world, to change things for all time.

but that same little dandelion heart sometimes just aches a little – for the days they were satisfied with lap-sitting and book-reading together, or the days you endlessly shopped together, or the days you sat on the sidelines of their game or their match or their race or their concert or their recital, or the days you simply were together – sharing space and time – sharing time in the same space.

i knew my own momma was my biggest fan – despite any disagreement we might have had along the way. she was the cheerleader of my life in the same way that i carry pompoms for my own children, in all their sharing of steep summits and challenges and bliss and angst. they will always be the first thing i think of in the morning and the last thing at night as i tuck them in with whispered prayers i poof to them like blown kisses or – maybe – like dandelion pappus in the breeze.

time will keep moving and i can feel it now.

“it’s friday again,” i look at d.

“and it’s june,” he replies.

wow.

and my grown children keep growing – in their own physical, concentric worlds. and i keep going – in mine. and when those two worlds meet – when they bump up against each other and sit still for a spell – my dandelion heart is ecstatic.

*****

FISTFUL OF DANDELIONS © 1999 kerri sherwood

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of being alive. [kerri’s blog on d.r. thursday]

when you hike a trail a lot, it becomes a member of the family. like when you recognize something has changed – someone had a haircut, someone has new glasses, someone has lost weight, someone looks tired – it is no different. the trees have leafed, the underbrush has been knocked over, the game trail is tamped down, the may apple has flowered, the wild geranium is prolific, the river is high, the river is low, the turtles have come out, the beaver dam is bigger.

we talk about our river trail a lot because we hike it a lot. though we’d prefer it to be different, we see it more than we see any member of our family.

this particular day – when the sky was a perfect sky-blue, when the river was high enough to cover the logs where the turtles sun, when purple fleabane budded next to its white-daisy-bloom predecessor, when the great blue heron joined the cranes flying the river, when the color green had more hues than any person might imagine – this day was a reminder of how well we knew this trail, its turns, the gifts of the familiar and the magic of the unexpected.

and there is this high spot on the trail where we stand and look out over the meadow, over the marsh, over the river. and i stood – still – looking at where the trees met the sky, all glorious, listening to the sounds on the breeze, feeling the sun on my face and my feet on the ground – standing still – and felt the insanity of being alive.

*****

read DAVID’s thoughts this D.R. THURSDAY

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decrescendo of the day. [kerri’s blog on not-so-flawed wednesday]

there is a spot in our backyard – a pretty specific spot – where we can sit and watch the sun as it gets lower and lower in the sky. it filters through clouds or the trees to our west. it lingers over the familiar rooflines of houses nearby. it is a spot on the patio that is ridiculously reassuring as we adirondack-chair sit, sunglasses on, witnessing the beginnings of the end of the day.

because we are not given to dinners out – and they aren’t really in our budget anyway – we tend to spend the waning hours of daylight on our deck or on this patio. maybe with a little happy hour, maybe just quietly – either way, it is a magical way to be a part of sundown, to begin evening, particularly when the ‘hood around us is silent but for the sparrows, chickadees, cardinals getting in last licks at the birdfeeder, dustbathing in the dirtspots dogga has generously dug, sipping water from the birdbath or the pond. it can be so quiet as to hear the hummingbird’s tiny chirps as it buzzes over our heads after devouring at its feeder. these are good days, the days that decrescendo like this.

and so, i try and capture these ends-of-day – for other days when the time comes for sunset and the horizon is full of clouds or rain, for other days when our hearts need the reminder, the universe hug that there is a night of rest coming and a new day to follow.

i glance over at d – whose hand is holding mine – and watch dogga run his backyard circle of joy.

for this moment, i feel a sense of peace. I breathe it all in – soaking in the energy that we need to be in these moments of history. i lean back against the throw pillow and exhale.

and hope to sit here again tomorrow.

*****

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

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