reverse threading

the path back is the path forward


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red-light-green-light-one-two-three. [kerri’s blog on not-so-flawed wednesday]

red-light-green-light-one-two-three!

we had long front yards in our growing-up neighborhood. it was noisy with the sound of children’s voices playing outside, especially around dusk. red-light-green-light, red rover, spud, mother-may-i….all those vintage outdoor games! it’s many-many seasons ago but somehow i can still feel the rush of those games.

i lived next door to a family of athletes. there were eight children and every one of them had amazing gymnastic or athletic ability. me? not so much. so any game or competition that involved athleticism – kickball, kick the can, climbing trees, running – i was never the surefire winner, but that never really mattered. it was simply all about the play. 

so, the thing about red-light-green-light is that you have to know when to move and when to stop. the person who is “it” turns around, facing the other direction. the rest of the players line up horizontally. as “it” recites “red-light-green-light-one-two-three” everyone who is not “it” starts to run forward, always aware that you must stop suddenly at the end and you must be absolutely still – no matter your stance. as soon as “it” finishes the word “three” they turn back and if they catch anyone moving at all, that person is out. the first person to get to “it” safely is the winner. ”it” can vary the speed at which they recite the words – going in slow motion or super-fast like the fedex guy on the commercials. you just have to be aware of when to gooo and when to stop.

sounds like life. you have to be aware of when to gooo and when to stop. the trick is being able to discern the thin thread between too soon and too late. on both ends.

in the way of synchronicity, sometimes these are obvious. in the best of times, things just sort of drop in and line up. in the most – well – challenging of times, it all feels like a battle. you are forcing things to start and then you are reluctant to stop, reticent to give it up. and there’s no one standing in front of you reciting red-light-green-light so you’re on your own.

but there are those moments in life – those moments of intuition – when you just know. things seem to align and you know it’s time to move. it has arrived – whatever it is that you have waited for, thought would never happen, couldn’t imagine in a million years, have attempted to conjure up to no avail. suddenly, you know that it’s time to run forward – fullsteamahead – full tilt. 

no matter what it is – any initiative you are undertaking, any practice you are trying to make habit, any new learning, any unraveling, any new exploration – of any sort – you give it the best you can. 

i guess going is kind of more important than stopping. i mean, who has time for stopping?

because just like when you were a child and red-light-green-light was a rush of adrenaline, so it is now. 

*****

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

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spud. and ptsd. [d.r. thursday]

we played spud as kids. the abby drive kids ran through yards trying to escape the inevitable impact of the ball.

i was “it” a lot. i lived next door to a family with eight children, all of whom were athletic whizzes. when one of these athletes was “it” they’d throw the ball up, call out a number and we’d scatter, in my memory, in the grass close by. the catcher of the ball – the new “it” – would easily lob the ball over to someone frozen on the lawn and that kid would be the new “it”. easy-peasy.

but – there was a tad bit of hypocrisy here. when i was called “it”, they would scatter rapidly, their feet sailing across grassy yards, barely touching as i ran for the ball to yell “spud”. and then they froze what-seemed-like miles away, hiding behind any objet d’art disguised as a towering oak or big forsythia. my measly throw, complicated by those trees and bushes, would ensure my continuation as “it”, sometimes ad nauseam. this did not make playing spud fun.

in a few ptsd moments, i just read the rules of spud online – and it appears that you are not allowed to hide behind things. you are to run out in the open so as to move the game along and pass “it” status around. ahh. somehow, i’m sure i guessed that back in 1968 when i was in the middle of catching the ball yet again and calling out “spud” yet again and throwing at the targeted kid once again. but the rules were not quite objective and, when you have a family of eight vs one or two others, you are definitely at a deficit. things are not stacked in your favor. this is probably why i loved hopscotch so much.

bullies are everywhere. we encounter them in our daily lives: at work, at school, out in public, in the political arena. they change the rules willy-nilly to suit their agenda; they justify changing them with empty words of hypocrisy.

and now, people are running spud-ptsd-scared away, hiding behind each other, their integrity underground, “it” – the truth – unable to touch them behind their objets d’art: the smug all-powerful-makes-his-own-rules-to-suit-himself senate majority leader and the sinister autocratic-wishing-wishing-wishing president of this united states. the ball, so to speak, is in their hands and they are hiding, clutching their (non) great america and its questionable future, in plain view.

it makes me want to play hopscotch.

read DAVID’s thoughts this D.R. THURSDAY

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