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

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

it is time. it is way past time.

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

yes. way past time. already.

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

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

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

i am glad for you.

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

it is time.

way past time.

*****

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

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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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fog. [kerri’s blog on flawed wednesday]

dense fog.

inland, you wouldn’t know.

inland it is sunny and warm.

but here – on the coast of lake michigan – with very specific circumstances – we are socked in with fog. it rolled in on cloudy waves. it lingers in the trees and hangs over the street. it brings with it a damp cold – much different than a couple miles inland. the lakefront is its own weather system.

it was a foggy morning, soupy and grey. we put on extra layers. we left to hike one of our favorite river trails. it was sunny there – so much so that we were shedding those extra layers of clothing.

and, then, on that same day in the early evening, we watched the advection fog stake claim to the neighborhood again, just as it had done that morning and for the past mornings.

all the same day.

and so we sat in the quiet of the fog as it surrounded us, our home, our ‘hood.

and, just as we didn’t know what the people in the sun were doing, neither did they know we were sitting in a blanket of dense fog.

we don’t know what we don’t know.

but isn’t it our job – as humans living in nation-wide community with each other – to seek knowledge of the other? of others’ circumstances?

are we culpable for an awareness of other-ness?

if i am on the lakefront and you are inland, do i care about you, do you care about me?

is there a line – somewhere between the lake and inland or in this country – that divides the needs of the people? is there a line – somewhere between the north and the south, the east and the west – that divides the needs of the people? is there a line – of race, of ethnicity, of orientation, of birth circumstance, social ladder-climbing, status, society’s trappings – that divides the needs of the people? is there a line – somewhere between the haves and the have-nots or the have-it-alls and the have-nothings – that divides the needs of the people?

where is compassion? a sense of decency? of humanity?

there is – apparently – no line that is too low for what is happening in this country now.

how is it that people – real people – mean so little to this administration?

and i think about those people – humans – who are cheering this on. i wonder how they have been seduced.

have they read the bills, the laws, the executive orders, the project, the intentions?

do they realize that this is decimating our country – the same country that is their country?

do they even give a second to wondering how all this cruelty, greed, destruction, moral corruption is “great”?

is their lack of concern because it does not directly impact them…yet? do they even know if it does?

is their state of great glee because it’s sunny where they are right now?

do they know that weather systems are not static, that they travel and affect communities at will, that it could be them next?

how can they linger in their cold dense fog – oblivious and unconcerned?

*****

read DAVID’s thoughts this FLAWED WEDNESDAY

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all that potential. [kerri’s blog on two artists tuesday]

it exudes potential.

so many clay pots and assorted planters, i drew a sketch of them all and began to list what plants and herbs and flowers we wished to grow this summer, sorting plants to pots. and we began the dreamy conversation about stepping off the deck and snipping basil or parsley, making ann’s jalapeño poppers, gazing at colorful flowers scattered on deck’s edge or along our gardens of grasses.

we are not well-versed in plants. we are most-definitely not well-versed in growing things to eat. and we truly don’t know much about different annual flowers – so we depend on the tags at the nursery and research. a few days ago we were drawn to two tiny-bloom flowers, though we didn’t know anything about them. it was a heart thing.

last fall my sister-in-law sent me two peony roots. we carefully planted them – exactly as the directions stated – making sure that the “eyes” were facing up and the root wasn’t too deep into the soil. in the miracle that is spring, peony shoots have risen from the ground – and you would think we’ve given birth – our wonder, our level of excitement are off the charts. it is a joy to think of these new beauties – with gorgeous big white blooms – growing alongside two established peonies, many ornamental grasses, wild geranium, day lilies, hosta, and healthy weeds of many varieties.

we have much to learn…about all of it.

gardening, we see, is like the joys of being an artist. experimentation and not being able to determine an outcome ahead of time – both are important in the process. we give over to the mystery of it all. we know that it all is steeped in potential and we embrace it. it’s a giant responsibility – a gift of nurture we can give – to our artistry, to our garden.

it would be an easy segue to connect the dots of this kind of potential – this kind of responsibility – to the governing of this country. it would be easy to speak of the glorious mystery of our melting pot, the growth that is possible in the garden of humanity. it would be simple to believe that there should be wonder and great excitement in nurturing all the people of this country – whether or not they are different than those we know well – learning and growing together. it would be natural to depend on research and heart in moving forward all that we – in these United States – can be.

but no. i won’t go there. it all just seems so obvious.

a country – a first-world democracy exuding potential beyond belief.

why wouldn’t you tend that garden with great care and embracing respect and intelligent research and nurturing love?

why would you wish to crush or annihilate or suppress or obliterate all that potential?

*****

read DAVID’s thoughts this TWO ARTISTS TUESDAY

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less wrinkles. [kerri’s blog on k.s. friday]

“if i’m laden at all/i’m laden with sadness that everyone’s heart isn’t filled with the gladness of love for one another.” (he ain’t heavy, he’s my brother – bob russell/bobby scott)

when i look in the mirror these days i am struck by the lines around my eyes, the lines etched above my lips, the furrow etched into my brow. i wonder how they all arrived without my noticing, as if – at night, while i was sleeping – a clay sculpting tool had gently drawn lines in skin no longer as resilient as it had been.

i glance at photographs from merely five years ago – and then ten years ago – and am startled to see the difference. but i know what the last years have been and – so – i should not be surprised. these wrinkles have been earned.

for it has been a time.

we all have them – these timelines of challenge or disappointment or frustration or grief.

in the humanness we all share, it would seem prudent to share these heavy burdens, the stuff of life that is made easier with someone else to help lift them.

“so on we go/his welfare is my concern/no burden is he to bear, we’ll get there.”

but this last decade.

as is woven throughout the history of this country, the extraordinary of abject cruelty and its ugly head raise up and shock our belief in equality and kindness. this last decade.

the hypocrisy of institutions supposedly dedicated to the love of one another – to goodness – to compassion – shifts the ground under our feet and we have been gobsmacked by the betrayal. this last decade.

our very own communities have quaked, stormy, seismic shifts forming a crevasse between us – not merely a difference in opinion, but a difference in basic morality. we reel from the impact, from the air that is sucked from our lungs as we grok this. this last decade.

last week. my birthday. d’s homemade card next to my early morning coffee. the pink tulips from 20. dogga’s momma-kisses. the call from my girl and her husband. and that moment my son handed me a tiny carrot cake – remembering. i felt the light, the easing of the load, the gladness, the love. each time.

i do not understand the dedication to cruelty, to evil intention, to undermining others, to destruction, to the bandwagon of every-man-for-himself-every-woman-for-herself.

“it’s a long, long road from which there is no return/while we’re on the way to there why not share?”

i wonder how it might all be different.

i suspect there’d be far fewer furrows and creases and wrinkles.

“and the load doesn’t weigh me down at all. he ain’t heavy. he’s my brother.”

*****

NURTURE ME © 1995 kerri sherwood

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wide awake. [kerri’s blog on saturday morning smack-dab.]

sometimes smack-dab is based on something we saw or heard. sometimes smack-dab is completely made-up. and sometimes smack-dab is autobiographical. this time – this cartoon – is most definitely that – from the first person.

i do lay awake – wide awake – at night thinking about this election. i spend hours thinking…thinking about the issues at hand, thinking about what is at risk, thinking about what the fallout could be, thinking about what others are thinking. particularly people i love and care about.

it worries me that there is bandwagon-energy-infused-reactionary-anger that is blocking the good and rational, critical-thinking hearts of voters ensconced in maga-world.

it alarms me that the screaming-fired-up propaganda thwarts people’s true consideration of reality, of how their votes would affect those they purport to care about, of how this country would change from by-the-people-for-the-people to under-the-thumb-of-autocracy – the very fascism my sweet poppo, 20’s dad, my brother-in-law, david’s nephew, dear friends fought and fight against.

it disappoints me to the core for my daughter’s future to think that the diminished rights of women my sweet momma endured – and which she gratefully watched as that ever-so-slowly changed – would once again fall under a patriarchal iron fist.

it devastates me that there are people – who i clearly know – for a maga vote is a vote against LGBTQIA rights – who will vote against the possibility of my son’s right to marry, his right to possibly adopt a child some day if he would wish to.

it confounds me that the same people who are on medicare and receive social security, or whose children go to public schools, or who subscribe to healthcare via the affordable care act or medicaid, would want to change these social programs in any way that negatively affects their benefits or those who follow them.

it confuses me that people would vote for the further pushing-under-water of the middle class and for exponential growth for the wealthy, when most people in this country are just getting by and making the chasm between classes even wider would elicit even more emotional division and even less potential, fewer possibilities.

it disgusts me that people would wish for the tiny children of our country to look up to this person they will vote for who has so little integrity, who is a puppet to the biggest of big money, who is down-right mean-spirited in every arena, who is a narcissistic criminal, who is apparently soul-less. i can’t fathom telling my three-year-old, my eight-year-old, my twelve-year-old, my teenager, “this – THIS – is the best man to be our president.” i can’t wrap my head around gifting my children, my grandchildren, my great-children or this democracy with THAT as a legacy.

so i lay awake at night. wide awake. i think about what people are thinking about. i wonder what they care about, who they care about. i worry if it’s just too late to hope that they are thinking or caring.

*****

read DAVID’S thoughts this SATURDAY MORNING

SMACK-DAB. ©️ 2024 kerrianddavid.com

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the fuzzy-wuzzy. [kerri’s blog on not-so-flawed wednesday]

i’m on the side of the fuzzy-wuzzy.

there is never a time i will pass by a caterpillar attempting to make its way across a busy trail without stopping to help it, to aid it across the pathway, to shield it from harm, to literally pick it up and place it on the other side, to protect it.

i have gotten some funny looks doing this.

yet, i will continue to do this. i will continue to protect, to aid, to shield, to carry tiny critters that are in harm’s way, beings that are subjected to elements against which they are not equipped, creatures that are in the way of someone else’s forward movement – by foot, bike tires, four-wheelers, agenda.

because – if one has ever been the caterpillar on the trail, threatened – even debilitated – by someone else’s negligence, someone else’s inaction, someone else’s inconceivable agenda or apathy, someone else’s aggression – then one knows the importance of others, of their care and concern, of their help, of their doing-something, of their protection.

and because we never know when we might be the fuzzy-wuzzy.

*****

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

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

“people start to heal the moment they feel heard.” (cheryl richardson)

it is not likely we always know. moments when people are sharing something with us – something raw, something of import, something life-changing. no, we don’t always know. because these things of significance – along with great gravitas – don’t always come with drumrolls or prologue announcements. they are stammered out, with some reticence and a side of fear. and we have a choice – an opportunity – as someone standing nearby or walking alongside, someone close-in or someone peripheral. it matters not – in humankind – our interconnectivity supersedes our concentric circle.

as we stand – in the fire – with someone who is sharing, our presence acknowledges their pain, their angst, their experience, their feelings. our being-there shines light into dark, into the fog.

in our indifference, we yield great power to hurt others, to walk on, to overtly turn our attention away from the sharer, to underplay this very part of their journey they wish to share.

she said, ” it is vitally important how those around react to the news of trauma, for that is powerfully profound in how a person heals.” both the overt overlooker and the covert minimizer add to the burden one is already carrying, the burden that will likely be buried further and further inside – more and more difficult to excavate, heal and release.

instead, we can choose not to perpetuate the pain of others. and they can aid us in transforming the place where our own pain may be held. we can each reach beyond silence – for the other. we can hover with each other and offer wisps of hope.

we can bear witness. 

it doesn’t take much. we are all together in this big world – full of the potential not only to delight us but to devastate us. we walk together. we can support others in feeling heard. it’s really the least we can do: listen. really listen.  

*****

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

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TLC. [saturday morning smack-dab.]

so right now we have harvested four tomatoes. i know that four tomatoes does not a stockpot of marinara sauce make. but these four tomatoes count and later today we will place them on a special plate and have them with our lunch, delicious-homegrown-bite by delicious-homegrown-bite.

our basil and flat-leaf oregano and rosemary have gone to town and are a delight to use in recipes. our mint insists on flowering and is kind of spindly. (yes, yes, i know the flowering part sort of causes this, but no amount of cutting back seems to help.) and our tomato plant – well, despite our best efforts at loving this little potting stand garden to fruition, it’s eking out very few tomatoes. that’s ok. we still are in awe of the whole process, and watch, in utter happiness, as our little garden grows.

there’s a guy on youtube who is hiking the colorado trail. more than once we have heard his mantra: what goes around, comes around. he is in the practice of doing good deeds for others, on the trail and off. and he recognizes each time someone does something for him, or the universe tilts in his favor. i’m betting he would love our little garden too. not necessarily for its tomato and herb yield, but because of the tender loving care we are putting into it and the joy it is bringing us.

i’m thinking that’s true of most things you tenderly and lovingly care for.

it’s not the marinara sauce that matters.

*****

read DAVID’S thoughts this SATURDAY MORNING

SMACK-DAB. ©️ 2023 kerrianddavid.com

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a watchful eye. [k.s. friday]

should it get to the point that the vine is obscuring the metal sunflower, we will cut it back. right now the vine is in its glory, billowing on top of the wooden fence, weaving in and out of the decorative wrought iron, and tumbling down our side. it has reached out and is starting to creep over this sunflower, ever so slowly and then, suddenly, the sunflower is wrapped in vine.

we keep a watchful eye.

for the vines of the neighbors, though lovely, are somewhat aggressive and we wish to protect the plants we have beneath their spilling. they are quietly growing, growing beneath these explosive vines and it has taken us years to cultivate even this small garden.

it used to be that the snow-on-the-mountain took over…it was everywhere. it choked out the lavendar garden and its long-branching rhizomes were spreading, spreading, giving our newly planted grasses a run for their life. it was overrunning everything else and its root system sent out feelers all over the yard, even under the driveway, looking for vulnerable plants it could overtake.

now the ground elder, on the other side of the potting bench, is rampant. because it is on-the-other-side and we mostly keep it from the stone patio in our potting garden, we are not as worried. but we watch it anyway.

we’ve discovered that vigilance is key. not so shockingly, we see the vines will win.

so we keep a watchful eye. and we protect the more fragile plants. we are sure to water them and check for the invasives trying to squeeze them out.

because they are beautiful, diligent silent growers, not insistently loud snowballing vegetation, and they each deserve their own space in the sun, their own dirt, air to breathe and our appreciation.

*****

SILENT DAYS from BLUEPRINT FOR MY SOUL ©️ 1996 kerri sherwood

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