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the path back is the path forward

Tag Archives: courage


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we need be brave. [kerri’s blog on merely-a-thought monday]

it’s not like we initially had a choice.

boom! we were born. and there we were…wherever that was. random.

i often wondered why i wasn’t born into a family with trust funds and fabulous wealth. in recent times, i have decided that if this sort of status-in-life comes with the measures of evil we are witnessing from the oligarchs now at the helm of the country-ship, then i am glad i was spared.

and so, i am where i am. grateful for all that has been bestowed upon me.

the thing i have definitely learned – in my time here – is how brave one must be to be here.

we were sitting around the dinner table, lingering long with wine and conversation, when shelly said, “it takes the brave to come here.”

though at the time she wasn’t speaking about immigration, i would hasten to say that it clearly applies in that sense.

what i felt she was talking about was the transfer of amorphous soul to human being. here – this earth – is not an easy place – it has complications and complexities, egos and hard hearts, fragile love and steadfast commitment to it, dashed dreams, forgivenesses, betrayals and successes, personal perils and impossible challenges. definitely not easy.

to prevail in such a place – sans tough skin – is to ride a tide of emotion – upheaval with a smidge of smooth sailing here and there. but – as i have witnessed from so many others – somewhere along the way one reaches in and pulls bravery up from the depths. because it takes brave.

choosing right now to stand up, speak up, speak out, to not be silent, to not turn away demands that same bravery. here is not what it used to be and – watching the disintegration of everything i have known as this country – requires more than a morsel of courage.

sometimes we feel like an island – surrounded by louder voices that cheer on the nasty. aggression is at a peak; self-serving aggrandizement of the new administration’s agenda is a slap in the constitutional face of this nation.

we turn to those who will have conversation, those who will commiserate, those who will help to balance out the fear and angst we feel. we are all trying to be brave as we look history in the eyes and witness the systematic taking-down of our democracy.

personal perils we have had or have currently in our lives aside, there is a fundamental change happening here – for everyone in the masses.

we need be brave, have courage, be stalwart, lift our voices up.

every day we have awakened in our lives there has been something we have defeated – if only a tiny cold germ or an unkind word from another. we each came here – from some other dimension – to accomplish something, to be something, to contribute something.

i hope that we can be examples of a Here where others less fortunate than us want to be, where the brave are not only the immigrants seeking a better life, a better community, but the brave are us as well – stubbornly refusing to give over to the unconscionable, instead offering that better life, that better community – to others as well as ourselves.

we need all be brave. not the false bravado of the evil-intended, but the love-filled courage of people who are here – on this earth – working and living together, to sustain, to thrive.

*****

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

there is a reverence of fire. it centers me into stillness, quiet time when much else slips away. just silently staring at its dance makes time – always vibrating – shift into slower motion.

there are moments – sitting in front of a fire – when you can feel that you are coming back to yourself. it is like the somethings that have been covered over, put aside, chucked away come forward and the fingers of flame burn off what hides it from your heart. the fire melts the rigid in you, pushes you past doubt, past angst, and beyond places that ache.

and suddenly we are a tiny bit open – more open than before – to the universe tapping our shoulder, to releasing the fear of being raw, to cracking open the vulnerable, to receive gifted divine intervention, to maybe-just-maybe wings to Back.

“may courage

cause our lives to flame,

in the name of the fire

and the flame

and the light.”

(john o’donohue)

*****

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carry forward my dad’s good. [kerri’s blog on merely-a-thought monday]

my dad went missing-in-action in world war II when my mom was expecting their first child. she gave birth to a baby girl who died later the same day – still while my sweet poppo was missing-in-action.

later, my dad was declared a prisoner of war, held captive, shot down over the ploesti oil fields of romania, taken prisoner in bulgaria.

my dad – who would have been 104 last week – had enlisted in the army air corps of the united states because he was invested in protecting the world against the rise of fascism and its horrors. despite having a brand new bride, he risked his young life to push back against authoritarianism, never wavering, courageous and stalwart.

to think that anyone related to my dad would vote then for a fascism-dreaming candidate to be the president of this country would be a slap in the face of my father, a wave of the hand dismissing his time as a soldier, missing-in-action, as a prisoner of war.

my dad was the good. he participated in an effort that was necessary to keep our democracy, to help the world regain some solid footing, to expose the terrors of extremism.

and now, with absolutely no uncertainty, i will do my part. i will carry forward his good.

i am not on the front lines, fighting a war or in the throes of bombing or intense strife. but i am living in these united states- a country divided like no other time. i am sickened by what i see in the maga candidate, the maga agenda – the hatred, the bigotry, the propaganda – intentions borne of the extreme, of the self-serving, of all manner of prejudice.

i know – beyond a shadow of a doubt – that my dad and my mom are casting their votes for this election from the heavens above.

they are calling from that other plane – no, they are shouting from that other plane – “BE THE GOOD!!!” they implore us.

i will not turn my back on the sacrifices of my father, the terror my sweet dad experienced. it is with gratitude for his service to our country – and with gratitude for the service of all veterans – that i vote for the continued democracy of these united states.

my vote will be for kamala harris and tim walz.

yes, daddy, obviously.

be the good. elect the good.

*****

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ruth. less. ness. [kerri’s blog on saturday morning smack-dab.]

the spaceship hasn’t arrived and i am still – the tiniest little smidgiest iota of a bit – procrastinating. not entirely, but yes…enough. i’m wondering if there is such a thing as an estate sale while you are still alive and well and living in the house.

more so, i am trying to figure out which of the items in the house “spark joy” and which are me trying to hold too tightly onto those “items that trigger memories but which i can dispose of without losing the memories”. yiiiiiiiikes.

this is a process. 

it requires prep and thoughtful introspection, gearing up and gearing down, a camera and stoic ruthlessness.

i am approaching ruth – but i still have to get to less and ness, so there’s a little time left. 

but it’s happening.

yup.

*****

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the place by the big trees. [kerri’s blog on not-so-flawed wednesday]

i spent much of last year looking back. way back. way past up-close. way way back – way way past the smallest of trees on the horizon. it was necessary and painful and shocking and mighty tedious.

“… the mind clings to the road it knows / rushing through crossroads / sticking like lint to the familiar…”
(mary oliver)

and then you peel back the lint that is dryer-vent-covering it all. you wipe off the fuzzy pieces. you take a good hard look at what’s really there, at what you have softened with the padding of trying to forget, of stuffing you have piled on top of your frame, of what you have buried, of the traintracks you have sprinted ahead on, leaving the veritable picture of perspective – the v of traintracks running far behind – away away – with trees so small you can barely discern they are trees. and there it all is. raw. 

and you can see it. and your brain tries to stop you from seeing it. both. so you sit with it – laden – burdened – in the retrospect of it all – connecting the dots, sometimes nodding your head in sudden understanding, sometimes eyes wide, horrified at it all.

it is surreal. you are back there. you can feel it. but you know – that in merely a blink – you can be where you are right now…where you are really. 

and suddenly, you are at a crossroads. you must choose between replacing the lint – tamping it back down and turning your face away from it – or recognizing it as a shield, pulling it all out – this ancient insulation – discarding it and then staring at what’s left – what is now feeling air and space and attention. 

“trauma creates change you don’t choose. healing is about creating change you do choose.” (michelle rosenthal)

and then, after some time – some processing, some sorting, some meaning-making, some swearing, much courage, sheer survival – you glance at all the baggage laying next to you – rolliebags and backpacks, crossbody bags and trunks, paper bags and reusable grocery sacks – and you pick up only that which you wish to carry. 

and you make your way back up the tracks to the place you really are. the place by the big trees.

*****

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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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like this tiny plant. [kerri’s blog on merely-a-thought monday]

it was precisely the message i needed. like this tiny plant – clearly steeped in sisu – was quietly saying, “there are ways. even against all odds. it is possible.”

and on this day, walking along the lakefront downtown, i nearly missed it peeking out of this drain in the asphalt aggregate street.

i thought about the days, the challenges coming, the uphills, and standing-my-grounds. as we all choose our battles it is much like this tiny plant. the odds may be stacked against us, the difficulties numerous. frustrations will loom mighty, listeners won’t listen and talkers won’t talk. the village looks different than you thought.

but we carry on like the little plant with chutzpah – with sisu – so that we can climb out of the drain-in-the-road and have our say. we speak up and we speak out. we stand firm.

and we root – with fortitude and courage – with sisu – and tether ourselves to the good earth. we stoke up perseverance and grit – sisu – so that we have a surplus from which to draw when we need it.

and, together with the little plant growing out of the drain in the middle of the asphalt street, we rise up and whisper, “don’t underestimate me!”

*****

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out from umbrella-world. [kerri’s blog on d.r. thursday]

and from my tiny home under the clover, i can look up and see that maybe the sky is clearing and the rains have stopped. the whole town has put up black umbrellas; some are bent from the wind and most are taller than they are wide, so it’s still easy to get caught in the downpours. and i can see – over there – the brown fulton birdcage umbrellas all set up, rounded bubbles – but everything that has been drenched is now drying a bit and it’s all verdant green and lush. it’s time to carry on.

i’m leaving my little home under the clover to go back out into the world. to see its giantness and feel the arriving sun and appreciate the balance of sunsoaked and rainsoaked, to try and understand the relationship between lack and abundance, to navigate the seesaw of positive and negative.

i see that it is quite possibly all about perspective. for the birds flying over our umbrella-world don’t see us here and, from our vantage point under the umbrella canopy, we don’t see them there. it’s only in the open field that we see each other, in the open field we can discern and hear each other, in the open field we can find truth.

my perspective has gotten lost from time to time, focused merely on my own parched landscape and drenching rainstorms. stepping out, looking around, taking stock – i see past the tiny market-umbrella-town in which i’ve taken shelter.

and i am no longer silent. there is much to be said, much to be learned.

and in the sun i’ll revel. and in the rain i won’t carry an umbrella.

it’s time.

*****

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EARTH INTERRUPTED acrylic mixed media 50.25″x41″
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one more step. [merely-a-thought monday]

mount everest wisdom. mark whetu, professional guide – passionately speaking about the mountain – maintaining, “one more step. you can always make one more step.”

it is without any doubt that i can say i will not be climbing everest (or, for that matter, k2 or annapurna et al). i have watched enough video footage to know that it would not be possible for me to summit. i don’t feel badly about that. i know that there are other challenges i will take on, other summits to step to. and those will take remembering the same mantra “one more step” with the same bravery.

we each have our everests, himalayan mountain peaks up close and personal. some of them are indeed adventures – the stuff we try during time away from work, on vacations near and far. some of them are health issues – and we work toward healthy. some of them are traumas we have lived through – and we, as survivors, work on healing, a little bit at a time. some of them are learning challenges we place before ourselves – to learn a language, to learn to dance, to learn to build, to learn the piano. some of them are more philosophical – a chance to explore and try to understand social and political issues, to dissect and parse out and ask questions, have discourse and form opinions based on true information. some of them are more existential – to sort out how we belong in the world, no small feat.

regardless, there is no way ‘there’ from ‘here’ without taking steps.

“on the road of experience
i’m trying to find my own way
sometimes i wish that i could fly away
when i think that i’m moving
suddenly things stand still
i’m afraid ’cause i think they always will“

(john denver – looking for space)

mark was on everest. in an excruciatingly difficult situation, he speaks to the standing-stillness of choice. he knows that after the way up, the way down is an imperative for survival. he knows the only way there – either way – is one step at a time.

it’s the only way no matter what. no matter the challenge, no matter the summit. one baby step at a time.

*****

BABY STEPS from RIGHT NOW ©️ 2010 kerri sherwood

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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.

*****

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

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