reverse threading

the path back is the path forward


Leave a comment

#ewbok. [d.r. thursday]

sarcasm is babycat’s modus operandi. his viewpoint is much more cynical than dogdog’s, who is a tumbling optimist. dogdog listens to the rise and fall of our voices and reacts accordingly. babycat merely takes a look at things and lists his sweet hulking body to the sardonic.

we read it on a wall in chicago: “everything will be ok.” i really want to believe that. there’s so much.

we are not 65. nor are we essential. workers, that is. so it will take some time before we are eligible for vaccines. the mutation of the virus sounds like it will give the vaccine a run for its money and, still, we drive past full restaurant parking lots, bustling bars.

yesterday was the year mark on my broken wrists. my right wrist refuses to cooperate, having been stunned into re-injury in september. i wonder how it will be in the future. there’s a lot i want to do with that wrist.

we are sharing the crossroads of before and after with the millions of unemployed people in this country. we search for ways to use all we have learned, all we have done, all we have experienced, to make a difference in the world today.

we wonder about people who used to be an integral part of our lives. we try to understand things that have no real explanation. i try to shove the grief into a corner and the anger into another corner and take off the boxing gloves. we hike on the snowy trail and those gloves are nowhere to be seen. but reality returns back in the car somewhere on the way home and then we try to move beyond the big disagree, this thing that lurks, the poison that was pointed my way.

we watch from afar, our hearts hurting, as d’s sweet dad is moved into care, out of his home, away from his wife and all that he used to recognize. we tether ourselves to our phones to field any calls from his momma as she tries desperately to deal with all the details, the loneliness and worry and fear that brings her. she made sure he has his record player and records to listen to and she yearns to be around people at a time that is most dangerous.

and we scroll through the news. our sigh of relief with this new administration is consumed by lies perpetuated by complicit voices of violence, of extremism, of overthrow. it takes our breath away to read of legislative branches, in states and in the federal government, making excuses for the dreadful and inexcusable mayhem, the inciting of riot, in our nation’s capitol. racism, gender-discrimination, ignorant social injustices are rampant. the chasm is ever-widening and the bridge is ever-crumbling.

the wall in chicago reassures, “everything will be ok.” #ewbok

and i remember hearing the saying, “it will all be ok in the end. if it’s not ok, it’s not the end.”

yep.

it musn’t be the end.

*****

read DAVID’s thoughts this D.R. THURSDAY

visit DAVID’s gallery online

AT THE DOOR ©️ 2017 david robinson, kerri sherwood


Leave a comment

comfort you. [two artists tuesday]

van morrison said it: “i want to comfort you. i want to comfort you. i want to comfort you. just let your tears run wild like when you were a child. i’ll do what i can do. i want to comfort you. you put the weight on me…i want to comfort you.”

how is it that, in the middle of feeling low-low-low, these sweet animals know exactly what to do? tucked under an old quilt, dogdog and babycat jumped up on the bed, searched my face and snugged up tightly right next to me, bookends on either side.

there are days – in these times – we must all feel the anguish of mental health exhaustion, of wide-awake anxiety, of worries too steep to climb, struggles, fears to which we close our eyes, wincing in pain.

there are days we reach out to others, extending words of reassurance, tiny tidbits of humor, virtual hugs, care packages, texts of love.

there are days we can only lay under a quilt. we sort and sort through the stuff-in-our-brains, listing the realities of our angst, wondering, reeling, succumbing to lonely early winter darkness.

if only it were so easy as to be dogdog and babycat. with no hesitation, they simply comfort. their response is pure. their compassion is the stuff of unconditional love. they don’t make assumptions or have judgement. they don’t assail with questions or platitudes. they don’t slough it off or explain it away. they don’t ignore it.

instead, they show up. and it is absolutely clear to me that they are saying, “i want to comfort you.”

*****

read DAVID’s thoughts this TWO ARTISTS TUESDAY






i


Leave a comment

a meeting of the minds. [d.r. thursday]

sensitive souls, dogdog and babycat study us, follow us, respond to our auras. their questioning gazes, locking eye-to-eye contact, belie all manner of thought and wondering going on in their minds. they are clearly concerned. in moments of high anxiety, moments of shorter fuses, moments of tears, they pace, uncertain how to help, uncertain of what they might do to resolve the angst. in moments of laughter, moments of gaiety, moments of teasing, they play along, happy to be a part of the joy-joy.

lately, after deep behavioral study of us and subsequent research, they have made a few requests: stop reading the news, stop wondering when orbit-people are going to be honest and forthcoming, stop checking the weather for a late warm spell, stop worrying.

they checked in with d on this; it was a meeting of the minds. “momma is clearly distressed. she is agonizing over things she has no control over. we want to help,” they told d.

as he relayed this to me, i asked, “what did you tell them?”

he said, “i told them that, though daunting, stress is a fact of life for people. i told them that fretting, even brooding on things, is a part of people’s every day, of their makeup, that there are so many things to be besieged with, things over which to be troubled.” he continued, “i tried to explain the political chaos, supreme court indignities, the financial strain, healthcare issues, the fear of the pandemic, racial, gender and sexual orientation inequality, pointed misogynistic behaviors, the isolation…”

“wow. what did they say? what did they do?” i asked.

“they stared at me, blank-eyed, and said, ‘can we have a treat?'”

read DAVID’s thoughts this D.R. THURSDAY


Leave a comment

the new bowl. “what now?” [merely-a-thought monday]

what now bcat

we put out a different water bowl in the kitchen for dogdog and babycat.  neither one of them will drink from the bowl.  we put their old water bowl in the next room, filled with water, so that they will be able to hydrate, but we were hoping that they would adjust to the new one.  neither one of them will drink from the bowl.  in the world they inhabit, one that must have low level anxiety frequencies they can feel from the-whole-outside-world, they do not like change.  it’s been days and neither one will drink from the bowl.

“what now?”

in the past months and in what now feels like a broken world, we can face forward.  we can set intentions and take one baby step at a time, all in unequivocal love of all humankind.  we can be light for each other and we can hold fear tenderly.   we can look newness of change eye to eye as we learn, challenge the status quo, embrace compassion and principle and stride confidently into a new time.

we can sit by the new bowl, encourage our dog and cat to drink from it, recognize their fear of the unknown, of change, and just love them.

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

paws website box


Leave a comment

triad-ic coping. [d.r. thursday]

IMG_4607

the aarp article addressed ‘dyadic coping’, in brief, the way a couple together handles the stress reaction of the other spouse.  the edition is dedicated to the pandemic so this bit of writing is not a surprise.

in my rant yesterday about every-little-thing david very calmly started to talk about a plan – ways that i can lower my level of anxiety, ways that i can process without taking it into my body.  ugh.  i just wanted to rant.  for a little bit of time.  his let’s-solve-for-this guy approach was lovely dyadic-ly, but made me want to roll my eyes.  letting off steam, regardless of the lack of any linear thought, is helpful.  five minutes later i felt better.  nothing was solved, stress still existed, but i could breathe better and move on to the next thing until the next time.

these are somewhat sleepless nights.  even if i drift off after our mountain-climbing adventure of late night fare, i awaken.  and, like you, i suspect, i start to think.  everything from wondering when i will see my children to finances to work to why the kitchen sink is draining slowly filters through my brain.  although i would definitely label david more daytime singularly focused, my obsession is in the middle of the night with angst.  serenity is elusive.

perhaps this painting is so very appealing to me because of the quietude.  the surrender to rest, beloved pets conceding to the gravity pull of being together, of repose.  an eyes-closed moment.  triad-ic coping.

read DAVID’s thoughts this D.R. THURSDAY

visit the virtual gallery of DAVID’S paintings

paws website box

©️ 2020 david robinson


Leave a comment

the benefits. [d.r. thursday]

IMG_2686 copy

MY LOVES 24″x 48″

i woke in the middle of the night to discover i was spooning the cat.  he jumps up on the bed and, pretty much like a sack of concrete, settles in for a long night’s nap, mostly because, well, clearly, the other 23 hours he slept in the day were not ample enough sleep.  he snugs in and prevents movement of most sorts:  there will be no blanket adjustments, no leg adjustments, little rolling over.  my hot flashes necessitate much wrestling to find cooler air as he has permanently planted his sweet large body and is down for the count.  and so, you must adjust.  granted, his sleep-apnea-style-snoring would be cause for plucking-and-moving (to another room) but we love him and suffer his sleeping-sovereignty; the benefits outweigh the costs.

sally told me that there is a machine that duplicates the frequency of a cat’s purring vibration.  i did not know that cat purring is healing and restorative – to broken or fractured bones, tendons, joints, muscles, infections.  we would rent out babycat but i am trying to figure out how to make him lay on my broken-and-in-the-ridiculously-slow-process-of-healing wrists.  once again, the benefits outweigh the costs.

i hadn’t ever had a cat before b-cat, but now it’s been almost eleven years.  he is in some ways more of a dog than a cat, having tolerated a parent who knows dogs and was too busy at the time to read ‘kittens for idiots’ all the way through.  so he sits when asked and speaks when asked and does dog-like things.  however, he rides the fence and takes advantage of cat-like things at will, like claws.  and he is fickle as fickle can be.  jen explained that cats will patiently ‘allow’ you to stroke them and pet them and fondle them, all seemingly appreciated, until the doll flips and it suddenly reaches out with both front paws and pulls your hand up to its razor teeth.  ahh, but those moments preceding the bite…the benefits outweigh the costs.

in this time of other-worldliness and alternate-reality these creatures of ours – dogdog and babycat – are companions unlike any other.  they will not argue politics or policy.  they don’t strategize or scheme.  they are not semantics-nuts or particularly immersed in propaganda-hunts.  they will not roll their eyes at our rants nor will they feed them or egg us on.  instead, they comfort when they suspect we need it.  they are quiet when there’s been too much noise.  they are entertaining when we need funny.  they are warm in the cold pandemic plane.

and they curl up with us in solidarity.  benefits always outweighing the costs.

read DAVID’s thoughts this D.R. THURSDAY

peruse david’s virtual gallery in these virtual days

paws website box

MY LOVES ©️ 2020 david robinson

 


Leave a comment

just being there. [d.r. thursday]

k.Dot Dogga BCat copy

there are moments when both dogga and babycat seem to be on the same page.  sweetly tuned in to our every emotion, they put aside their own agenda to curl up, their warm bodies tucked in against one or both of us, just being there.

in this time of necessary and vigilant waiting, as we defer to healthcare workers, scientists, the experts, all in their prodigious work, perhaps this is the most potent aid we can offer.  to curl our warmth and any practical and safe help we can muster around each other.  to acknowledge each other’s worry, each other’s fear, each other’s process.  to be tuned in, to listen, to offer words of comfort.  to stand with each other, hold each other’s hands, even from afar.  to quietly just be there.

read DAVID’S thoughts this D.R. THURSDAY

Screen Shot 2019-10-02 at 4.09.09 PM

dogdog babycat paws touchingwebsite box

©️ 2020 david robinson


Leave a comment

a time to close your eyes. [not-so-flawed wednesday]

sleeping dogga copy

there is little as comfortingly sweet as watching your dog sleep.  dogdog is whirling motion so when he sleeps in your presence it is a magical time of trust and deep respite.  the vision of him asleep on the bed or in the middle of the living room rug is a picture of all-is-right-in-the-world; he has no other cares except he is with his people and he can rest.

some of the times i remember most about when My Girl and My Boy were young are the times they fell asleep with me holding them, in my arms, on my lap.  the moment you feel their little-child-body relax and fall into you.  exquisite.

it’s that moment you sigh and lay your head back to nap with someone you love.  the moment you close your eyes on the beach towel in the sun, warm sand beneath you.  the moment you drift off in the grass watching the clouds.  oh yes, the moment your face plants against the window at the rest area during your long journey and a couple hours pass by.  the moment, hiking in high mountains, you lean against a tree and your eyes close to the sound of the wind in the aspens.

rest.  a time of no real conscious worry.  a time of innate trusting that all-will-be-well.  a time of repose, of tranquility, of solace.

i have found, sometimes, if i want to go to sleep and cannot, that if i watch dogga or babycat sleep it will slow my overthinking-breathing.  it will settle my heart and mind a bit.  it will remind me that my own whirling motion – physical, intellectual, emotional – needs time to rest, to curl up on the living room rug and close my eyes.

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

paws website box


Leave a comment

an independent dog. [merely-a-thought monday]

independent dog

jen pulled the sliding glass door open for the fourth time (within a short visit of potlucking time around the kitchen island) and we all laughed.  sweet henry and chester wanted out.  wanted in.  wanted out.  wanted in.  this is a familiar tune.  dogdog finds it irresistible to demand to go out and then not want to miss anything and want back in.  on repeat.

andrea and scott have two golden retrievers.  impeccably trained, they wait for a sign or a word to do most anything.   they are not the in-and-out-ers that dogga and henry and chester are.  i remember them as calm and happy and i vowed that one day i would have a dog as well-behaved.  this is not that day.

but dogdog is, yes, dogdog-ish.  his sweet face watches our every move, trying to anticipate to which room we might be moving, trying to assess why we are feeling what he knows we are feeling.   he doesn’t like conflict; he doesn’t like the sound of metal touching metal.  it took him a while to warm up to the ukulele (which he now loves and wishes he could play) and the piano draws him into the studio.  he won’t touch food on the counter or the table or really anywhere unless given permission, but his direct eye contact begs for a bite every breakfast.  he destroyed very few things as a puppy (well, the kitchen cabinet door and the table legs count) but de-heads every toy he is given and un-stuffings them.  he bows to all things babycat, yet loves to drag him around and taunts him until babycat asserts his ruling paw.  his aussie-ness makes him intuitively try to keep track of all people and animals in the house, a tiresome and difficult chore when one is peculiarly averse to going upstairs or downstairs.  he is quirky.

on island he was quiet.  here at home he is a barker.  i guess he knew the littlehouse wasn’t his.  he loves errands both places.  he ecstatically runs miles in circles in the backyard and certain names will make his eyes wide and his australian-shepherd-jumping-bean-dog-heart jump with glee. he clocks out of all responsibility late at night, content to quietly languish in whatever room we are in, happy to have pets and go sleepynightnight.  sweet, sweet dogdog emerges from constant-motion dog.

i don’t remember the story we were talking about around jen and brad’s island.  i’m sure it was one of tripper’s many idiosyncratic tales.  we rolled our eyes and laughed.  and brad said, “you should be proud that you raised an independent dog!”

riiiiiight.

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

paws website box


Leave a comment

he rules supreme. [not-so-flawed wednesday]

babycat computer

babycat’s work ethic is clear.  he is not dedicated to screen time, nor is he dedicated to long portions of work-related tasks.  he prefers to nap.  anywhere.  anytime.  his eyes squeezed shut, he pretends to be unaware of the things going on around him.  because he is “big-boned”, a-lot-of-cat, scooting him out of the way is like gently easing a massive concrete block a little to the left or a little to the right; there is no give.  yet we work around him, we absolutely accommodate him.  if he is sleeping on the bed, taking up perpendicular space, we will squish to the side, choosing to list starboard or port, whichever direction he is not.  he rules supreme.

i wake in the middle of the night, d jostling me, a clear sign to turn over and stop snoring.  only i am not snoring.  from the foot of the bed or perhaps under the bed, where jostling is impossible, it is babycat who snores loudly.  his contented breaths both amuse us and keep us awake.  a gentle poke-at-the-cat yields a temporary lull, but his sweet hulking body settles back into sleep and snoring commences.  the white noise of our overnight, he rules supreme.

dogdog wants to get a drink of water from their mutual bowl.  but babycat stands over it.  dogga reaches his paw out to try and drag the cat from the bowl, but babycat is firmly planted and dogga is unsuccessful.  so, even though he whines with frustration and looks at us with a “do something!” plea, dogdog, at least twice the size of this supersized cat, waits.  because babycat rules supreme.

and yet, even with the snoring and the bed-hogging and the torture-of-the-dog and the clear reign-of-the-house, we cannot imagine life without the babycat.  his presence and the fact that he-saved-me-i-didn’t-save-him rules supreme.

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

squarecat website box