reverse threading

the path back is the path forward


Leave a comment

learning. again. [merely-a-thought monday]

we were the only ones in the balcony. it had been a long time since we had sat in a church balcony together – almost a year – but this was an inviting and warm place, filled with good energy. filmy fabric draped over the light fixture in the center, rainbow pieces of gauzy weave, floating high above the pews below us which were full; so many people there to celebrate nancy’s life.

i’ve played for a lot of funerals and been to my own share of sitting-in-the-front-row services. it is sometimes hard to find family or friends to participate in the celebration of life that a service affords. people will attend, but they’d rather sit and watch than speak. this service was different. it appeared that there was not any difficulty wrangling volunteers to read or speak or sing or play. each participant seemed eager to share, grateful to be a part of the celebration.

up there in the balcony we sat, holding hands, tears coming to our eyes time and again. the service was gorgeous, the words eloquent, the music heartfelt, the praises for this amazing woman lofty. stories of her gardens, her flowers, her travels, her cooking, her zeal. and, over and over, the words “joy”, “light” and “love” were used. over and over.

to be at that service was to walk away with learnings and how appropriate that is for nancy, heidi and gretchen’s beautiful momma. we talked about it in littlebabyscion on the way home, driving about an hour and a half, reliving and relishing the time we had just spent. for over and over we learned that in the complexity of life – the very goods and the very bads, the blissful and the devastating, the extraordinary and the ordinary – this woman held space in her heart for both. she wrapped both in her arms, balancing and gracefully retaining her footing in the world, and carried on, always choosing to do more, experience more, feel more, love more. the stories of her vast heart were inspiring. the slide show following the benediction was a gift to watch. two-thirds of the way through i was moved to see a front-of-the-chancel-screen-sized photo of myself, laughing and embracing nancy. a part of the story. yes, no matter the size of star, no matter how satellite, we are all a part of the narrative, a part of love.

after hugs to those dear to us, we walked outside, the word “wow” on our lips. we got in and sat quietly for a few minutes. i looked over at d and said, “makes you wanna go do more stuff, doesn’t it?” he looked back, “yeah, it does.”

mostly, though, it makes me realize that – once again – that it is possible to sit in it all and to steadfastly stay centered, for all things to coexist in our hearts…the things that sadden us or make us giddy, the things we regret and the things we are proud of, the things we hold close and the things we have given wings, the hardest things and the easiest things. for dark and light to coexist. as heidi said, in a powerful tribute to her mom, “both belong.”

and the wisest angels, holding hands with her mom, nodded.

*****

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


Leave a comment

and the wind brought fall. [k.s. friday]

the wind brought fall.

iowa and kansas were full of summer-on-its-waning-edge, the sun streaming into the truck making merely having windows open not enough. the highway noise was loud and the air conditioning a welcome buffer so we could talk and ponder what the next days would bring.

we saw it from a distance and assumed it was farmers plowing in dry fields of dirt, billowing cloud dust across the horizon from afar. and then we drove into it. in minutes, touching the window glass cleared up the mysterious billowing. the beyond-blustery front was bringing cold air and as we drove from kansas into colorado, the gusts delivered autumn.

we walked into their living room this morning and the fire was lit. there is nothing like a cup of coffee by an early morning fire. the day is cool and the sun is out. those of us who traveled for yesterday’s celebration of columbus’ life and are still here will gather later around a fire out back. in the meanwhile, we’ll walk and talk and have a little quiet time after much visiting and catching up till later last night. the service is over and next follows.

when these flowers were blooming, they were vibrant and gorgeous, spilling over the old fence along the sidewalk. the petals started to drop off as fall started to arrive, dropping in little by little. bright yellow pistils started to turn mustard then cocoa brown. the picture begged to be taken – beautiful and fallow on its eventual way.

as we drive back to wisconsin, we’ll again pass fields of corn waiting to be cut down, plowed over, vast brown rolling land. we’ll miss the green, we know, even at home, even in our little gardens, on our little potting stand.

but we know that time just doesn’t jump from one season to another. it actually shows signs as it comes, gives fair warning, allows us time to process a bit and adjust. it transitions and gently encourages us to move on, into the next season.

summer yields to fall and we will bring home a little wisdom harvested from the side of the highway.

*****

read DAVID’S thoughts this K.S. FRIDAY

download music from my little corner on iTUNES

stream on PANDORA

PART OF THE WIND from BLUEPRINT FOR MY SOUL ©️ 1996 kerri sherwood