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what will be left? [kerri’s blog on k.s. friday]

and what will be left when the fog lifts?

it is a period of lost horizon. right and left, groups of peoples are being marginalized. right and left, rights are being stripped. right and left, the insinuation – no, the out-and-out statement – of violence is threatened. right and left, the environment is suffering. right and left, the clouds are ever closer to the horizon. they are sinking down nearer where the sky meets the ground. the sun is not getting in. truth is cloaked in agenda. the experiment is suffocating. right and left.

and what will be left when the fog lifts?

in the backyards of this country, in the middle of hot dogs and potato salad and apple pie, red, white and blue bandanas and sparklers in the chubby hands of small children, are we being at all vigilant about clearing the fog? are we discerning? are we observing and weighing and thinking-it-through? are we casually watching fireworks that celebrate the independence we stand to lose? are we aware? are we fogged in?

it is a watershed time. right and left. all the way around.

this is not just about us. this is about all those who follow.

when you gaze at your grandson, your granddaughter, do you ponder his or her life moving forward?

do you ponder if they will understand – will respect – that this america was built on the diversity of its people?

do you ponder if they will have choices, if she will have autonomy over her body?

do you ponder if they will have access to social programs – like public schools, access to welfare, medicaid, social security, medicare – like you do?

do you ponder if they will live in a climate environment that is healthy, that is sustaining, that is replenishing, that is balanced?

do you ponder what they will learn about history in school? will it be real history or some edited abdicating version of history? from where will they draw wisdom?

do you ponder if they will hold a sense of gratitude for the veterans of this country – their great-grandparents, their grandparents, their parents, possibly themselves – for fighting for the independence of this united states of america, for fighting for the integrity of the constitution?

do you ponder if they will be able – to be free and welcome – to move about in the whole wide world, to pursue dreams, to love whomever they wish?

do you ponder if their world will be equitable for all people, all genders, all orientations, all races, all economic statuses, all worshippers, all agnostics, all atheists?

do you ponder the life of your grandson or granddaughter should he or she be gay? a woman? a person of color? poor? not christian?

do you ponder if they – as all men and women – with no exceptions – will be held accountable for misdeeds, will be held to the values and the law in this land of the free and the brave?

do you ponder if they will experience aggression – here at “home” – at the highest level?

do you ponder if they will live in a peaceful world or a darkly dangerous world, a world of main streets and neighborhood grocery stores and festivals and schools and religious institutions with concealed automatic weapons, a world ravaged with war, a world of hatred, a world built instead on nationalism and extremism?

what – exactly – is your definition of freedom? is it a manifesto – “project 2025” – built on a governing system sans checks and balances – a transitional template to tyranny? have you read these “promises” of “change”?

have you truly done a deep dive into what could happen – in this country – the one with spacious skies and amber waves of grain?

what do the fireworks symbolize?

are you circumspect at all about what will be there when the fog lifts?

and, in really defining who you are – now, in the partisan sense of the words “right” and “left” – will you turn right or turn left?

will you truly – truly – evaluate all that is at stake?

will you stop listening to the screaming voices and clear the fog and sort to what is really being said?

will you look beyond the hype and the surge of adrenaline and the shot of popularity that comes from expressing anger and riding the bandwagon?

will you read, research, ask questions, seek truth?

will you be responsible? will you be a responsible citizen?

will you step back, turn away – even momentarily – from the fervor of spectacle and actually look at that which is in plain sight, that which is up-close, clear, terrifying?

what do you want for that grandson, that granddaughter? really?

what do you want for your children? really?

what do you want for you, your family, your community, this country? really?

do you wish for amorality? tyranny? fascism?

what is our individual and collective legacy to Next?

the fog will dissipate and the horizon will become clear. that’s how fog works.

what will be left when the fog lifts?

what do you want to see? for you?

what do you want to leave behind for them?

what will you vote for?

*****

WHEN THE FOG LIFTS from THIS PART OF THE JOURNEY ©️ 1997, 2000 kerri sherwood
WATERSHED from AS IT IS ©️ 2004 kerri sherwood

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

“but it’s the holidays!” you protest. and yes, it is.

yet – in these days, in this community, this country, this world – there’s more going on than simply jingling bells and twinkling lights, a sleigh of gifts and eight reindeer, manger scenes and menorahs. and even now – in the middle of all of this – even in the middle of festivities – we need to pay attention. 

it’s risky to disagree. it’s risky to push back. it’s risky to declare that which has or those whom have wronged you or others. the membrane is thick and unforgiving, even vindictive. it’s risky to break the code of silence.

but it’s necessary.

to speak the crime/the wrong/the slight – the action or inaction – is not a crime, though those within the bonds of the code would want you to believe that. it is either impossible for them to see the forest for the trees or it has come to the time that no longer matters to them. to step out, to speak out, to speak against, to speak for – all are looked upon as deviant when silence is broken. righteous pontificators rail against the sole “deviant” – the one who stops the actual deviance, the one who holds the actual deviants accountable. they gather troops around themselves, searching for – or convincing – others of their sanctimonious correctness. they are invigorated by the quest to maintain the code – no longer merely complicit – instead, enabling – involving themselves in the dirty deeds of the codemakers.  their silence is active, perpetuating the wrong. and the circle exacerbates itself – concentrically outward – into an organization, a community, a government, a country, a world. and it is ugly.

for those out there who are questioning and breaking the code of silence, for those who are pushing back against injustice or inequity, for those who are pulling back the curtain exposing, revealing wrongs – whether small or overwhelming, for those who are not fostering complicity or harboring or sustaining wrongfulness, for those who have reached the place of “enough!”, for those holding fast to the values of goodness, for those who are actively pursuing democratic freedoms of choice for all peoples – i hope this season of light would grant unto you courage and fortitude, empowerment in vulnerability, the ability to stand tall and proud, others to stand with you, trust in the process of bushwhacking your way to revealing truth, accountability in the end, recovery and peace. i hope this season of light reminds you of your value. i hope this season will touch you beyond your wildest imagination and that jingling bells and twinkling lights – and all the other trappings of this season – will dull in comparison to the light you have brought in your deviance – breaking the code of silence and bringing forth truth and justice. you are necessary.

*****

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cobalt and teal. [kerri’s blog on two artists tuesday]

it was the color that stopped us. we have walked this route for years. the other day – wind blowing off the lake, waves crashing over the rocks, rain falling intermittently – we noticed the color.

the east side of the trees was iridescent. cobalt blue and teal green mixed in with the rich color of its bark. we stood in front of the trees, studying the mix of color, the tooth, the randomness. later, it took some research to discover what might – just might – be the reason for these colors: amaurodon viridis – a fungus. if that is true, we don’t know what that means for these trees. both are stricken on the side that faces the lake – the side that takes the pummeling of the wind in lake-effect storms. we’d imagine that side of the tree is decidedly moister than the side facing the afternoon sun. but – at best – even with a bit of research – we are making it all up. we aren’t tree experts or even tree knowledgers. we are, however, tree lovers. and we are tree noticers.

it did make me think of october days we spent in breckenridge, colorado. days where the town took tree-safe paint and designed an art installation on the aspens. with biodegradable water soluble colorant, social and environmental artist konstantin dimopoulos inspired the painting of the trunks of aspens blue-blue-blue drawing attention to them – stunning yellow leaves in fall against this blue – impossible to not notice – an effort to point to the importance of trees to the planet and the devastation of global deforestation. it was breathtaking.

the work of an artist is to ask questions, to prompt thought, to nudge and cause both comfort and discomfort, perhaps to elicit change. the work of an artist is not to take the easy pre-cut path. the work of an artist is to linger in not-knowing, in seeking. the work of an artist is to notice, to pay attention, to educe the notice of others, to stir up paying attention. to encourage stillness and wild interaction, both.

the trees got us to stop. and as we stood and noticed and wondered, they stood tall, knowing they had done their job.

*****

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tomato-tomahto. [kerri’s blog on merely-a-thought monday]

well enough = fine.

these two equate for me.

well enough – is not quiiiite there. well enough – is under the bar. well enough – is status quo. well enough – is not really trying. well enough – saves time. well enough – is not holding life as a tiny flame in all the universe.

fine – is not quiiiite there. fine – is under the bar. fine – is status quo. fine – is not really trying. fine – saves time. fine – is not holding life as a tiny flame in all the universe.

i suppose there are many who really love leaving well enough alone. it doesn’t push any limits. it doesn’t poke at false bars. it doesn’t question. it doesn’t hold accountability as a north star. it doesn’t sort and ponder and ruminate. its tolerance is dubious. it’s easier.

and then, there are the other tomatoes.

those are the tomatoes in the bunch that won’t suffer well-enough. these tomatoes poke and prod. these tomatoes ask questions, research, study, extrapolate, piece together something better. these tomatoes make other tomatoes crabby.

but that’s all fine in the end.

*****

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assumptions. [merely-a-thought monday]

pages 63-74 should be required reading. “don’t make assumptions.”

don’t get me started.

“it is always better to ask questions than to make an assumption…”

don’t get me started.

“if we hear something and we don’t understand, we make assumptions about what it means and then believe the assumptions. we make all sorts of assumptions because we don’t have the courage to ask questions.”

please don’t get me started.

“make sure the communication is clear.”

oh, yes.

i’m guessing the reason we love trails so much is that there is nothing on a trail that isn’t transparent. there is no agenda. there is no discrimination. the forest is not riddled with malfeasance. it just is. it’s quiet, a sanctuary of truth, the sanctity of nature.

i suppose most of us have been the target of miscommunicated or misrepresented or mischaracterized assumptions at one time or another. there is not much one can do about this, shy of broad announcements of clarification or the slow dissemination of true information. damage control is never as successful as creating damage. and that kind of damage can be damning.

we need not ingest information that is untrue – we need not immerse in gossip, spread words that skew clear understanding, speak words that are not impeccable. because we have – likely – each experienced the fallout of some sort of assumption, it would seem just as likely that we would be suspect of anything we hear that appears odd, out-of-character, unsolicited, a complete surprise. it would seem that we would approach anything like that with caution, weighing the possibility of bad intention. it would seem that – in light of the hell we might have experienced in our own time-as-target – we would go directly to the source, ask questions, try to find clarity.

but there are people who have not read pages 63-74 or, perhaps, found any other resource with this same basic human lesson. their lack creates needless suffering in others.

*****

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i need more socks. [merely-a-thought monday]

the socks came packaged with soup mix and a ladle we use every single time we serve soup. “keep your head up ⬆⬆” was good advice. it still is. and every time i wear these – mostly as sleepynightnight socks to avoid dreaded leg and foot cramps – i think of margaret and ruth, who sent them to me.

we are going to need to stop reading our news app each morning. instead, i should sip coffee against my pillows and stare at my socked feet. it’s the only way to avoid having the day start in angst. headlines of corrupt politicians, the unconscionable politicization of the supreme court, compassionate human and equal rights being stripped right and left, the undermining and diminishment of LGBTQ, gun-toting individuals mowing down people at block parties and funerals and places inside and places outside. the smoke from the canadian wildfires wafts through our open windows and storms are predicted throughout the country as “severe” and “dangerous” with hail and wind and tornadoes and driving torrential rain, yet there are those who deny climate change. conspiracy theories rise like bile and individuals who bark the loudest are lauded, clowns representing constituents in this country. geeeeez.

like many, we were hopeful – though not expectant – of the supreme court siding with president biden about student loans and forgiveness. we have been dramatically affected by this crisis, by the predatory lending that took place/takes place: principalizing interest, forbearance steering, no transparency about income-based repayment plans. now, don’t get me started on transparency – for the lack thereof – opaque opacity, if you will – exists in organizations and communities where you would least expect it.

these student loans – deceptively pushing lendees further into debt – had no oversight; people are still struggling from these unfair practices, including us. nonetheless, the land of student loans is a misunderstood monster and many form rapid opinions about “free lunches” before understanding the perils of this skewed ogre. in striking down this forgiveness, the supreme court – once again – ignored the plight of real people. president biden’s words, “the hypocrisy of republican elected officials is stunning. they had no problem with billions in pandemic-related loans to businesses – including hundreds of thousands and in some cases millions of dollars for their own businesses. and those loans were forgiven. but when it came to providing relief to millions of hard-working americans, they did everything in their power to stop it.” and what about all those tax loopholes for the wealthy?

no, this is not people expecting something for “free”. this is the populace expecting the government to do something about profoundly unethical and predatory actions that have overwhelmed millions of people in this country for decades, that will continue to affect their lives and decisions and their way forward. including us.

once again, as with anything, i would suggest asking questions prior to forming highandmighty opinions. “the power to question is the basis of all human progress.” (indira gandhi)

i only have one pair of socks with words on them. d has a pair too. his say, “if you can read this, get me wine”.

maybe i need another pair – just to get through life…or at least the morning news.

*****

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true rainbows. [d.r. thursday]

chicago is aware. wide-awake LGBTQ aware.

to be there is not to be in a nod-to-diversity. instead, the city embraces diversity. it is true to its intention. the rainbow flags and “proud” banners and painted buildings are emblems of this good intention.

but one must be wary of emblems, of symbols, of misspoken intents. to live in today’s world is to bring a bit of doubt to the table, to ask questions, to do your homework, to be informed. for not every mission statement will stand up to scrutiny, not every symbol of goodness will survive real review. it is surprising – at best – to realize that agenda has superseded goodness and has taken your trust for a ride. beware of generalizing virtue simply because it falls under the umbrella of a symbol.

i have been immersed in places in which i placed all my faith, sans skepticism or dubiety. i have been in communities that touted their transparency, their compassion, their participation in good mission. all the while, the flags of opacity, of hidden agenda, of untruths spoken and truths unspoken, flew quietly and deliberately in, usurping any good intention that remained, driving out the hard work of community-building, of the joy of the embrace. out of alignment, were the symbols capable, the symbols would shudder.

and so, i walk into the thick of the city, sensors on. i know there are issues, problems, but i know there is attempt to address these, to ask hard questions, to communicate, to resolve any perceived conflict.

i know that the rainbows are true.

*****

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momma, poppo and dolly parton. [merely-a-thought monday]

i wish – every day – that my sweet momma and poppo were still here. that we could coffeesit with them, make them great soups for lunch, spoil them for dinner. that we could take them apple-picking and introduce my dad to a new scotch or two he hadn’t tried yet. that we could maybe adventure a little or just be quiet and listen to their old stories. i wish.

the thing i know, though, is that they would be beside themselves in this circus of a country we now have. it would make both of them irate to watch the vitriol being tossed about, the divisiveness that is being fed by rabid spewers, the lack of transparency, the lies. my daddy-o would have a few choice words to describe these folks and they wouldn’t be pretty.

and my mom? well, she would have no time for anyone who is less than kind to another. she would want nothing to do with any politician or religious leader or pundit who skips kindness in their approach to life, who excuses their own behavior, stance, agenda, platform, control tactic, extremism based on warped interpretation of law or scripture. she would point out the colossal hypocrisy. she might reiterate the story about when, in the dark night, they parked their little vw bug next to a small hill off the road. tired while traveling europe by car, they needed to rest and could find no guesthouse nearby. the little hill would serve them well, they thought. they woke up next to a gigantic dung pile, covered with black tarp held down by old tires. she would trust that we could connect the metaphoric dots. sometimes a hill is not a hill.

i think that both of them – were they here – would be ashamed of what it’s all become. my dad would wonder how his service – missing-in-action in world war II and then as a POW in a bulgarian camp – mattered now to these people who are making a mockery of democracy. my mom would be aghast at how people are being treated, marginalized, discriminated against, excluded. she, who worked hard to be kind to everyone, would worry about the popularity of this ugly trend. yes, they would both – were they here – be astonished at how, in so many arenas and in so many circumstances, people are just downright not good to each other.

i guess that – were they here – they would love a sit-down with dolly parton. they’d probably all talk at once, new yawk and a southern drawl all intermingling in conversation. and they’d all agree that they didn’t understand why anyone at all would “let religion and politics and things like that stand in the way of just being good human beings.”

and then – were they here, the three of them together – they would remind us all to stay away from dung piles posing as hills.

*****

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cabbage fields. [two artists tuesday]

in the age-old tale of things-are-often-not-as-they-appear, this beautiful almost-transparent white moth flits from lavender bloom to lavender bloom. in certain moments it is even hard to see, its translucent wings disappearing and then glinting in the sunlight. against the dark background of the deck, it is easier to see as it feeds on the nectar of these deep purple blossoms. it’s a cabbage white butterfly. and it is likely responsible for the tiny holes in the tomato plant leaves. it’s fortunate we do not have a cabbage patch as these little guys have the capacity to destroy it. such a beautiful little creature and so much potential for destruction of goodness.

i’m writing this (ahead) on a rainy sunday morning and it’s too easy on sundays for my mind (and heart) to jaunt over to the things-are-not-what-they-appear heading.

this translucent butterfly has specific markings (a black spot on the upward front side of its wings), a specific size just over an inch, markings that depict the gender, making it easier to identify and, if necessary, prevent or eradicate the damage it can do to a hard-earned crop. if it were to look like any other butterfly – or say, a beautiful monarch – it would be much more difficult for gardeners to recognize the peril, much more difficult for farmers to stand firm and work at keeping the crops safe that they have nourished so carefully, for so long, with so much dedication.

sitting on the deck watching this butterfly flit about, the sunlight catching its gentle wings here and there, i never suspected it might be at the root of the problem i am experiencing late in the season now with our cherry tomatoes. under a cloak of not-knowing and not-asking-enough-questions or googling enough, i didn’t know to point at this gentle creature. but the act of googling has given me information. i can look for larvae on the tomato leaves and examine the damage with a plan for it.

were it to be a full field of cabbage, like out in the county here, it would seem imperative to act upon this. a whole field of cabbage – a field of potential abundance – can be destroyed by the existence of something that people might never question. research says an infestation of the cabbage white butterfly caterpillar can destroy all cabbage growth, and prevention is said to be imperative to avoid the ruinous nature of such an aggressor. that way “you’ll have less work and damage later on.”

this butterfly has been here since the 1860s so its presence seems pretty solid and unshakable. i guess you have to pay attention to damage being wreaked around you in your tiny tomato garden, delve into it, gather information, ask questions and stop the quiet chaos from happening.

it’s easier when the wings are transparent, when the markings easily identifiable and when the community of gardeners and farmers are seeking the goodness of the cabbage field.

metaphors are everywhere.

*****

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27 cents. [flawed wednesday]

yes. i know. it was auto-generated. the three mailings (first class mail stamps cost $1.74) and the three emails and the text were all auto-generated. and all of it? dehumanizing.

we are no longer on molina healthcare since during-the-year 2021, but for a company that literally charged $19,927 for the period of time we were, a balance due of 27 cents seems a bit inconsequential and the threat of policy termination and coverage loss – in the middle of a global pandemic – while they claim to be “caring about people and advocating on their behalf” and “helping those most in need” – well, it would seem that a bit of real-people-ness might need to shine through.

i know that we have grumbled before about healthcare in the united states; this will not be an out-and-out rant, for i’ve written that in previous posts and want to have a bye for future ones. but it is surely a tad bit humorous to think that a company with a january 2022 net worth of $16.24 billion – billion! – cares about 27 cents.

even funnier is that as soon as i knew we had an outstanding balance over and above our premiums – this 27 cents – i paid it online. yet the letters, emails and texts kept coming, even a month after we no longer had their services. auto-generated, aggressive, uncaring, impersonal.

molina – in their employee handbook, as part of how they describe their core values – states: “we focus on what is important. ‘it is a business of nickels.’ little things matter and the nickels add up.”

ahhh. yup. i’m guessin’ they must. focus on nickels, that is. “we are careful with scarce resources.”

this is a company that bases their existence on the early clinic of their founder, “where caring for people was more important than their ability to pay.”

yes. yes.

“if we don’t receive your payment, your policy will be terminated and you’ll lose your coverage.”

we paid our 27 cents. molina healthcare lost at least $1.47 in that exchange.

that’s 29 nickels.

and two pennies.

*****

read DAVID’s thoughts this FLAWED WEDNESDAY