reverse threading

the path back is the path forward


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our tracks. [kerri’s blog on d.r. thursday]

like you, maybe, i woke up on tuesday, sickened. the scourge has impaled the nation and i am stunned beyond belief. though i know we – personally – will be working at keeping on keeping on, the fallout of less than 24 hours was mind-blowing. which i know was the point. shock and awe, as they say.

in the tracks of our future we need to decide just exactly what we wish there. the present tense cannot be that which we leave in our wake, for this twisted leadership’s twisted governing will – most definitely – be the end of humanity as we know it. it is hard to grok this kind of cruelty.

in this time of grieving for our country, our democratic ideals, rights and freedoms on the chopping block to be desecrated, a moral center devoid of morality, the heaviness of depression and dread move in like a thick fog – difficult to see through to the other side. this is stifling, intense, horrible.

and so, maybe, i know how you feel. and sitting in this “collective depression” (john pavlovitz) is necessary – for the moment. we need spend time looking back, looking at now, looking down the road. we need spend time in the middle of it all. there are no easy solutions, i suspect. but each inch of the road forward counts and the tracks we leave will tell the story of our attempt to find balance and peace and goodness. it is the fundamental one-foot-after-another.

even as i write this i know that i don’t know what i’m talking about. not really. i have not lived through such a time. i am – like you – newly embarking on a trek heavy with the baggage of an administration steeped in hatred, retaliation, corruption. to think i know anything about such things is overstating, hyperbole. i – like you – have been mostly fortunate to live – most of my life – in a country with laws, checks and balances, at least a few grains of fairness mixed in. but here we are. and, though 77 million people voted for this maniacal cadre, more did not – through their vote or their silence.

anne frank embraced hope, “i don’t think of all the misery, but of the beauty that still remains.”

ralph waldo emerson’s words remind, “life is a journey, not a destination.”

when i come out from under the quilt, reopen the blinds and step out, i know that we will consider carefully our path as we go. we will step lightly and intentionally. we’ll not carry the fancy luggage with leather-edged nasty executive orders and gleeful manifestations of greed and malfeasance with us.

we will carry the scroll of our constitution and its good will from here and now to next days and the days after – our tracks will not be shameful indicators of the worst of us nor will they embarrass us. instead, they will be steady and strong and will tell the story of this journey for “whatever affects one directly, affects all indirectly” (martin luther king, jr.) and we have a legacy to choose.

*****

read DAVID’s thoughts this D.R. THURSDAY

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in the meanwhile. [kerri’s blog on not-so-flawed wednesday]

“on the day when the weight deadens on your shoulders and you stumble, may the clay dance to balance you.” (bennacht – john o’donohue)

in the meanwhile we keep hiking the trails nearby…the bike trail, state forests, nature preserves, state parks,, county parks. there are times (though never enough) we are in colorado or utah or north carolina and there are mountains or red rock to hike, deserts and canyons to explore, waterfalls to discover. but most of the time we are here. and here is where we hike. nevertheless, we keep it fresh, each time.

we’ll continue to sort life on these trails. with everything that has taken place in these last years – and, devastatingly, this week – there is plenty to sort, lots to process. these trails help us stay present – not get lost in the chaos of tangled underbrush, not get too waylaid by the terrifying what-could-happens. one step at a time, one foot in front of another.

i’m writing this at sixteen minutes after noon eastern time on monday. i have a pounding headache right now and my breathing is shallow. even without watching we can feel it in the air. the changeover. the democracy axis tipping to the oligarchs on the dais. there is a wafting scent of narcissism and revenge and you can feel the gloat descending like storm clouds. presence is damn necessary now.

“…a lot of evil happens because of ignorance and of numbness…” (john o’donohue)

so in the meanwhile – the time between this new now and whenever evil releases its cruel grip – we’ll seek the spaces that keep us in beauty. we’ll find others as they, too, look for the beautiful, the simple. and we’ll hold fast to the clay under our feet.

*****

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

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by a thread. [kerri’s blog on two artists tuesday]

the connective tissue between us is sometimes like strong rope and sometimes like filmy silken thread. yet we are – one to the other – connected through bliss and storm, hot heat and bitter cold, mountaintop summits and chasmic challenges. though you may be peripheral in my every day story, we connect in the subplot of all our stories – the humanity of living – our interdependence, our shared earth.

we – together – in our shared mission seeking goodness – step into the next day. in our joining – together – we bring the best of each of us – the uniqueness of all our strengths, our gifts, our wisdom – and we buoy one another.

when the ice formed on the window in threads – more beautiful than i could have ever created – the feathery crystals latching onto the ice-strand – like tiny preschoolers holding the knots on a rope while walking in a safe-line – it reminded me, once again, of your presence. the threaded crystals remind me that we are not alone, that – together – we may find the beauty we know is there, the pause between the notes, the reinforcement, the ‘ands’ that we each desperately need.

the needlepoint of the universe – crocheted vapor – a talisman of hope.

“if everything around seems dark, look again, you may be the light.” (rumi)

we are the light in this darkness – together – particularly when we make together our intention. though feeling as if hanging on by a thread, i take comfort knowing you are hanging with me, with us.

*****

read DAVID’s thoughts this TWO ARTISTS TUESDAY

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the grace dance. [kerri’s blog on k.s. friday]

even laden with new snow, the grasses spring up, ever resilient. they show fortitude in predicament and circumstance – a teachable moment for those of us humans who are not impervious to such things.

maybe it’s their golden glow in sun low on the horizon. maybe it’s that there are small critters taking refuge under the umbrella of stalky stems. maybe it’s the reverent bow of the fronds, the balance in the arch of growth and weight, a toppling over. maybe it is simply grace.

“i do not at all understand the mystery of grace – only that it meets us where we are but does not leave us where it found us.” (anne lamott)

in moments of this past year i have found myself in the presence of grace. i have watched grace heal physical injuries. i have watched grace blanket people, restoring relationship. i have experienced grace reaching out its arms to envelop. i have received grace – the support of others. i have been surprised – even shocked – by grace and i have been surprised – even shocked – by a lack of grace.

for if the presence of grace – such an intangible mystery – does not leave us unchanged, then so does the absence of grace.

were the grasses to succumb, to be lying down, flat upon the earth, their glow of beauty and their cozy shelter wouldn’t be. their place in the world and its workings would be different, perhaps. their resilience seems to be the key.

“I know nothing, except what everyone knows – if there when grace dances, i should dance.” (anne lamott)

in the mystery that is beauty, that is grace, that is the intertwining of both – for surely they are hand in hand – there is an invitation for us to dance, upright upon a floor of dirt on earth under the sun, able to both receive and extend grace – like feathery fronds on an ornamental grass, ever resilient though the elements are threatening.

we carry that dance – tucked in – with us as we make our way. it is present, beckoning us. we can see it in the falling snow and the driving rain, thick fog and dark nights. it is there, ready to leave us different.

*****

GRACE © 2010 kerri sherwood

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our space in the dirt. [kerri’s blog on d.r. thursday]

there was a meme that he showed me this morning. it depicted the milky way – with an arrow to a tiny dot you couldn’t see that said “you. paying taxes and living in fear.”

it was perspective-arranging.

the next thing i saw was a meme that spoke to the cutting of social programs as the new administration seeks to continue coveted tax breaks for the very wealthiest among us.

it was also perspective-arranging.

and so here we are – living this strangely bi-polar reality, seeking some kind of balance, some kind of hope, trying to stay centered, as cris wrote to us.

they hand-feed the cottontails at their back door every day. we gaze out the window at the things that keep us grounded – our dogga running around the pond, our sweet aspen tree “breck”, our old piano aging in the snow. it is the relentless pursuit of relentless presence.

at the same time there is much about which to be worried. there are merely days before every single thing changes and this country will be run by heartless souls who wouldn’t feed a cottontail or watch a piano age under any circumstance. we are clinging to some sort of it’ll-be-ok even though we don’t think it will and we find it mind-boggling and heartbreaking to think of all the people who are pleased with the cruel impending mindset of our country.

it’s freezing today as i write this – a couple days before it will be published. by the time it is published the weather will be a bit better – for a day or two. it’s supposed to break over the freezing mark and hit forty degrees. but for right now – this very moment – it feels like 4 and we are side by side under the quilt, sipping coffee with dogga at our feet. it is a suspended moment in time but we can feel the other moments coming.

this year i will turn 66 and david 64. we wonder if – in our lifetime – we will actually see this country return to a place of compassion and sanity. what if it doesn’t? what if the self-aggrandizing-corruptly-narcissistic-strategically-agendized-greedy oligarchs just continue their reign for decades, pushing down those of us who have far less so that we will have far-far less? what if we move into a state of being where there is no equality – there are no rights – for anyone who is different than those in cold, extremist leadership positions?

breck doesn’t know the answers. but breck stands – fervently staunch – in the wind, the rain, the snow and hot sun – and thrives. it takes up the most minuscule amount of space in the dirt on this earth in the solar system of this galaxy. and so do we.

*****

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any feather in silhouette. [kerri’s blog on not-so-flawed wednesday]

in silhouette – in the trees against the sky – it was difficult to tell if they were starlings or grackles. the identifying characteristics like feather, head, leg or beak color fly in the face of the silhouette. tail length and body shape can be discerning factors as well as their bird calls or the raucous sound that they make while hanging out in trees together. but – at these moments that we were photographing them – they were quiet and, though i might lean toward starling – because of their general body shape and tail – i’m really not sure. plus, starlings and grackles and blackbirds all often mingle together, so it can be hard to distinguish one from the other.

what i do know is that it doesn’t matter. they were beautiful all perched in the trees and it’s a marvel to look up and see sooo many birds, resting and waiting before they move on.

we are coming ever closer to the changeover in the administration of our government. it feels like we are getting a little bit quiet in waiting. there is so much chaos that can happen quickly and this morning we talked about who will stand in integrity to push back against it all, who will be decent, who will abide by the laws of the land, who will be responsible advocates for humanity – the absence of which will perpetuate a chaos of insane proportion.

were we all to be seen in silhouette perhaps there would be more likelihood that we might all be treated equally, that people would not be disenfranchised or marginalized because of pigmentation or gender or ethnicity or sexual orientation or socioeconomic status or any other differentiating thing.

if we had to squint to try and make out the details of each other and – still then – think that we are all basically the same – for silhouettes – and yes, people – are like that – maybe this country could be a better place.

i shudder thinking about what’s coming. it makes me feel sick to my stomach.

i wonder when wisdom might return. the meanwhile is going to be a shameful place.

if you’re looking for me, i’ll be in the tree communing with the birds. you’re certainly welcome to hang out. they say birds of a feather flock together. any feather.

*****

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

we move forward in this new year – attending to the processes of democracy and this nation’s constitution. we pass by the sixth of january.

“four years ago, a few thousand insurrectionists attempted to disregard the laws of this nation for a single career criminal. and what they could not accomplish then in the capitol rotunda, 77 million americans now have at the voting booth: the voices of our forebears have been rendered silent, the protections of our constitution have been destroyed, and a convicted felon, adjudicated rapist, and wannabe dictator has been given the keys to the kingdom.” (john pavlovitz)

if that is not prickly, i don’t know what is.

once upon a time, back in the day, there was a sexual predator. he was charming and indubitably well-versed at preying on young women. he started by grooming – paying undue attention to these young women – even girls – who were far younger than he, gifting them, serenading them with song and words that – clearly – meant nothing. because he was well-practiced, it did not take him long to go from zero to sexual abuse – his deflowering count blossoming. and then – post-conquest – he would quickly discard that conquest – another young woman who was forever-devastatingly-changed – and move on to the next. he was never punished for any of his crimes nor was he ever held accountable. the misogynistic men who knew and who should have handled the crimes of this crony-of-theirs stayed silent, a peer group of complicity, continuing to enable him. he still walks about freely here in these united states. for decades.

prickly, eh?

and here we are – decades later – nearly half a century since the time of this one devastating story among millions of such stories – and we have not moved any further along. as a matter of fact, we have now elected a misogynistic sexual abuser – with his own bevy of complicit lawless cronies – to the highest office of the land.

it’s just like the story from back in the day. interesting how little has changed. only – now – 77 million people are part of the story – who not only stayed silent but became a part of the enabling – who stamped their wholehearted approval and voted him in – a man liable for sexual abuse.

if you don’t feel prickly about that, i don’t know what’s wrong with you. because your embrace of violence – your ignorance, pushing this newsy news aside – your lack of morality – your perpetuating of this travesty – your complicity – has placed every single woman in this country in peril.

in the way that conditional if-then statements work, that would all condense to: if you voted for him then you are culpable.

pretty prickly.

“we don’t coddle our kids when they spew nonsense or think the truth is irrelevant. we correct them.” (rex huppke)

or – as history and the present show – we let them walk free and even make them president.

“the decision to put someone like [him] back in the most powerful position in america should be embarrassing. it wasn’t.” (rex huppke)

prickly as all hell.

*****

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intermingled. [kerri’s blog on not-so-flawed wednesday]

when he came over for dinner a few days ago he asked when we were going to take down the holiday decorations. “sheesh!” i said. “it’s barely over!”

truth of the matter is that i love the light and spirit of the holiday decorations. the intermingling of the everyday with the celebration of divine. even so, we will – soon – take down the Christmas tree, all the little trees, the ornaments. we may leave a few crystals up for a while. and, definitely, the happy lights stay. there is nothing wrong with keeping light and real-life intermingled.

pine branches on the trail always get my attention. there are sections of our trail that just have a glorious scent. those spots instantly take me back to a favorite hike in the colorado mountains – where we hike through a pine forest alongside a brook that meanders down the mountain. funny how scents do that.

it’s like any time there is the slightest bit of salt in the air i am back at the beach where i processed most of my teenage years, back in the sand where i walked winter, spring, summer, fall.

the rolling-around of the new year prompts much memory-exploring. i can’t help but think of holidays past, of decades of new years turning, of resolutions and wishes, of sadnesses and hopes for new, times of tucking away the holiday and times of leaving it all up longer than ever.

for right now, the snowy pine needles nudged me to keep it all up. for a few more days. intermingled. to stretch the magic it creates a little bit longer.

*****

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

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the beautiful and the blurred. [kerri’s blog on two artists tuesday]

it is hard for me to pass by something this beautiful – this wispy milkweed pod – without stopping. i am fortunate to hike with someone who understands this. we stop and i study the milkweed; i take several shots.

it is not the first time i have taken photographs of milkweed in the winter. i’m pretty sure it won’t be the last. each time i see milkweed – even in the winter – even in its fallow – i feel like it is different – its slant in the meadow, the curve of the pod, the way sunlight plays on it.

this is how i will get through it all, i think. zeroing in on intense beauty, tiny nuances, millisecond moments. i realize that this is the power that is available to me. this is the distraction.

the invitations are numerous from the side of the trail, from the side of life. they beckon to each of us and it is up to us whether to accept those invitations.

i am kind of a detail person…so the invitations are somewhat evident to me, hard to miss. they blur out everything else, if you intend to really take notice.

and, in just that way, we are intending new practices – more intentional meditation, more exercise, more outside. and each time – despite any same-ness, there is the possibility of new. each time we may stop and study or gaze and admire.

“things will not be the same, because we will not be the same.” (anon)

it may be difficult to avoid focusing on the way things will be in these fraught times. nevertheless, we will try to focus elsewhere. to lean into the beautiful and leave the rest of it blurred.

*****

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what will be the Real? [kerri’s blog on merely-a-thought monday]

it was almost like a reverse-print. the trail revealed only the snow-footprints left behind.

i studied photography a bit in college. this trail was like the negative of the positive. in darkroom speak, a “negative” is a reversed image – the dark is light and vice versa – when you shine light through the negative onto the paper upon which you’re printing, the tones revert back to their correct appearance, to that which is Real.

the snow of the trail had blown off, save for the footprints. as people used to seeing footprints stamped in the snow, it is somewhat odd to see just the snowprints on a dirt trail.

i couldn’t help but ponder the parallel.

what will we leave behind as our footprints in 2025? what impression will we make? what impact will we have? what will people see on the path after we have walked on?

when we shine light through all we are, all we do, all we say in 2025, what will be the Real printed for all time?

*****

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

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