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Tag Archives: grace


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countless stars. [kerri’s blog on k.s. friday]

the way back north – though we would have lingered on and on save for our sweet older dogga at home waiting – was beautiful. we knew it would be; we have taken these back roads every single time we drive to chicago. following the lakefront, through little towns and along ravines, the holiday lights on our way home – in the dark with full hearts – are always magical.

to sit and spend any time with your grown children and their partners is always a gift. some people are privy to that all the time – fortunate to live in the same town or very close by, fortunate to have time together often. others of us have less time together; proximity can be challenging, so the time together with them is treasured and exponentially valued. we are always grateful to have that time.

earlier this week we had a chance to be with our son and his boyfriend. we brought all the makings for a thai chicken soup, our son’s requested “christmas lunch”. we gathered for photographs by the christmas tree and visited in the kitchen while we cooked. hearing their recent adventures, their thoughts, their latest dreams, hugging them in real life – it’s truly the stuff that this holiday is made of.

i remember the day after christmas from growing-up times. it was a day that was kind of the denouement of the season. it was a slow day, a reflection of what all had transpired, a review of it all.

we kept all the decorations up for a while back then. i don’t remember taking them down as a child. this year i think we will keep them up a bit as well…keep the light going. the trees add warmth to the cold of this season, particularly at this corrosive time in our nation.

he said that he hadn’t had his chance to put the star on the tree before he was no longer welcome. but this year it was HIS home, HIS tree, HIS star. and he owned the very-important-moment of placing his own star on his own tree, undeterred by disrespect of him or biased bigotry. it made me cry.

no longer welcome. holding a ‘welcome’ ransom is as absurd and cruel as holding the star ransom. in the christmas story, the star represents the celestial guide to the manger. but, more so, it represents light in the darkness, hope, the arrival of love. love…that which should level the field for all, that which grants grace, reminds us of compassion and inclusion, of unity, of hand-in-hand support of one another.

on the way home we talked about the lights on people’s houses, in their yards, inside their open front windows. we talked about multi-colored lights vs white lights and our own interpretation of these.

although we both grew up with multi-colored-light-families, we both always choose white lights. for me, that simplicity is part of the season. for me, it’s like a thousand stars, constellations of beacons in the darkness, of hope, of love. white lights bring the galaxies of the universe inside.

this day-after-christmas will be slow. it will be a day of reflection and rest.

and it will be time to continue to keep the happy lights lit, countless stars surrounding us.

*****

TIME TOGETHER © 1997, 2000 kerri sherwood

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show up! [kerri’s blog on k.s. friday]

with a real feel of about 105 degrees, we gathered with thousands of others to watch our son perform at PRIDE FEST in chicago. the energy was electric and the set flew by, even in the midst of an insanely hot summer day.

northalsted is a landmark LGBTQ+ neighborhood, an ultra supportive community that offers undying love and non-profit medical and mental health resource assistance to its residents. we always feel welcome there; our son’s friends and complete strangers embrace us – just as we embrace them.

this year we took the train down and uber-ed over to the event. last year we had driven down and – between PRIDE and the cubs game at wrigley field- the traffic was unbelievable and took a couple hours longer than anticipated (not to mention the tornado on the way home when we tucked littlebabyscion right next to a brick building – a closed restaurant – after we had been literally lifted up off the ground by the winds.)

the show was fantastic. there is nothing like seeing your child in their bliss. and here was our son – an EDM artist – in his skin, in his element, in his community, in his neighborhood – doing what it is he is supposed to be doing and loving every second. there is no way i would miss that. there is no way i would miss any event for either of our children – our son or our daughter – that is an expression of themselves – given simply that we know what it is, when it is and where it is. it is the nature of parenthood. it is the privilege of being a parent. it is a choice and i will choose it every time.

i know that there are many parents – hell, many people in our country – who would not – even for a second – support any such effort as attending PRIDE or supporting – in any way – a child (young or grown) in the LGBTQ community. there are those who have – horrifyingly – excommunicated gay family members, who have turned their backs on their own. there are those whose actions have undermined this community, who wish to eliminate the rights of those in this community, who endanger this community with vitriolic uninformed rhetoric and undisguised hatred. it’s a sad statement of conditionality and it absolutely breaks my heart.

if we could show up for every one of the members of this community – at every one of their personal bliss-events or in their own life-affirming moments – we would.

because if we each stand in the middle of the grace of this universe, then we each should likewise stand in the middle of loving grace for each other. it’s not that hard. it’s not really hard at all.

and the choice to be actively-accepting, unconditionally-loving can’t be more important than it is right now.

*****

CONNECTED © 1995 kerri sherwood

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north stars. [kerri’s blog on k.s. friday]

we pulled up to the recycling tent to drop off the computer-type equipment we had – several old printers and associated cables and plugs. we had been looking forward to this event – an earth day event held locally – in order to continue the purge of stuff, but in the most environmentally-friendly ways.

there were a few people in the tent waiting to help and we really appreciated their work volunteering. they immediately moved forward to our vehicle to help us unload.

i got back into littlebabyscion and glanced over through my fully-open window to repeat our thanks. that’s when i saw one guy glaring at littlebabyscion and saying something to someone next to him. the focus of his gaze was undeniable.

i decided instantly.

“looking at our wheels, eh?” i addressed the guy.

he looked at me, surprised to be caught in the moment, “uhhh….yeah.”

“well, they may not be fancy but this little xb has faithfully driven 280,000 miles,” i bragged.

he stammered. “wow, that’s really cool,” he managed.

“yup,” i said. and then, pretty emphatically, “you can’t judge a book by its cover!”

i’m hoping he felt a little bit sheepish after we drove away. it is not likely, but i still hope he did.

now, to be fair, littlebabyscion’s wheels are the stuff of grimace-potential. the outer layer of aluminum alloy is both peeling and rusting – but, hey, so are we – after a few hundred thousand miles. we have plans to take a steel brush to these wheels – on a non-windy day – to clean them up a bit, make them less shoddy-looking, but it hasn’t been a top priority. glimmering, shiny wheels are not as important as some other tasks or chores, so babyscion’s rims just need to get in line. besides, LBS had really shiny rims back in the day – almost 300,000 miles ago. heck, even 100,000 miles ago there was still a bit of sheen. shiny is part of who LBS has been. so, i, for one, am not going to judge this absolutely amazing little vehicle for a bit of wear or a few wrinkles in the middle of dedicated and extended mechanical life. LBS has a really good heart.

we are relatively used to just being us – in a world of people trying to be more. we are artists, remember.

and so, we are people who have walked this walk – the one of being the book judged by the cover. we have also repurposed with fervor, made-do with less, driven with not-so-perfect rims. and we stick to the be-you mantra. we are not going to participate in the judging of books by their covers. we are going to seek heart. no matter the difference, no matter the sameness – we believe that being you – the best and most filled-with-goodness you – is all you can or should be. and we are here to lift you up in that. we are not going to grimace or glare or make snide comments at you in your pursuit of goodness. our job – as humans – with kindness and generosity and acceptance and grace our north stars – is to be us and to let you be you.

hopefully hearts are more important to you than shiny rims.

*****

GRACE © 2010 kerri sherwood

read DAVID’s thoughts this K.S. FRIDAY

 

LBS…a few years ago….

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we are two chickadees. [kerri’s blog on k.s. friday]

last year a black-capped chickadee returned over and over to this old barnwood birdhouse on our tree. each time it balanced on the the hole and pecked at the edges all around the entrance to the house. we wondered if – perhaps – it was not quite big enough for this bird and its intentions to build a nest. it worked at it – diligently – finessing the birdhouse as it could, enlarging the entrance and pecking off the sharp edges. but it did not end up nesting there.

this year two black-capped chickadees return over and over to this birdhouse on our tree. this year they carry in supplies – long strands of ornamental grasses, bits of branches and leaves. we believe that – this year – there is a nest inside this birdhouse. we hope we are right, for the idea of baby birds just off the patio – in this sweet birdhouse – makes us a little bit giddy. together these chickadees have made a home, taking turns with the chores of preparation and standing vigil, keeping it all safe from harm. we stay hopeful that there will be babies and that this sweet bird-family will endure all the hardships of nature and the passing of time.

yesterday was the 43rd anniversary of my (first) wedding.

i think back to the preparations and nesting through the years, as we worked together – successfully and not – as a couple and then as parents of two beloved children. like the chickadees, we had no guarantees – we just worked at it, best we could.

i look back – as we all might do – and see the moments in time we might have done better, might have made different choices, might have pecked at the edges of the entrance to our house instead of other things we did – things that would have finessed our home in lieu of harming it in some way or another. but we are human and our failings are as numerous as our triumphs. it is easier now – years later – to offer generous grace to our best attempts, despite how it all turned out. our two children are good people in the world – making their way in work, in their own passions, in love.

i am grateful for those years. i am grateful to have married a man back then who also tried his best to build a life together. as in any relationship, we brought different baggage with us – some of which was surmountable, some of which made life challenging. we started out pretty young. time has smoothed out the edges – pecking off the sharp parts – and what remains is softer, gentler, accepting. it is with deep affection that i now tell the tales of our thirty years together.

d and i met twelve years ago now – after six months of being daily email penpals. this year will celebrate the 10th anniversary of our wedding on a warm and sunny october day.

we have done our share of edge-pecking. we have finessed our home and stood vigil for each other. we have shared in the hardships of nature and the passing of time – for that – the passing of time – seems exponentially fast starting later in life. we have been fortunate and we work at it, best we can.

i am grateful for these years. i am grateful to have married a man who is also trying his best to build a life together. as in any relationship, we brought different baggage with us – some of which has been surmountable, some of which made or makes life challenging. we started out later in middle age. but time smooths out the edges – pecking off the sharp parts – and what remains is softer, gentler, accepting. it is with deep affection that i tell the tales of our life together. it is with humble and immense gratitude that i look into the future with him.

there is no telling what chickadees may do in life. but they seem to realize the very preciousness of it as they zealously prepare and tend their life together with another chickadee. sometimes they stay with the same mate all their lives. and sometimes they don’t. either way, chickadees have strong pair bonds – which is the very best we can all do for each other.

*****

GRATEFUL © 2004 kerri sherwood

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the right shot. [kerri’s blog on d.r. thursday]

there are great white trillium all over the woods now. beautiful big blooms lighting up the underbrush, making the forest brilliant. they precede the may apples and have more pizazz than the maroon prairie trillium. they get our attention.

it’s not easy to capture a good photograph of great white trillium. not because they are elusive or shy, but because they reflect back sunlight and the images tend to be somewhat blurry, details burned out into flat white. i felt fortunate with this photograph. even the specks of pollen off the yellow pistils are visible.

and then i noticed it. the shadow. the tiny dandelion next to the trillium was casting a shadow onto the delicate petal.

when i first noticed – further down the trail – i thought that i had missed my shot – that the interrupted petal somehow blemished the photograph.

the more i studied it, the more i realized how very lucky i had been – to capture the very moment in the sun’s angle that this little dandelion made a distinct shadow on its neighboring wildflower.

sometimes we don’t realize how imperfection is simply perfect.

what looks like wreckage is that which welcomes grace, how a broken road reveals the right path, how organic surpasses the staged, how cobbled-together – all the moments of bliss and the moments we think are shadowed with ruin – our lives really are, how imperfection is actually perfect.

what we thought was the wrong shot is – in reality – the right shot.

*****

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in the end of ends. [kerri’s blog on merely-a-thought monday]

“sometimes it can feel like you’re never doing enough. but to touch the life of even just one animal or one person can help heal the world.” (hellen rescue centre)

the golden rule is a relatively simple concept. basic moral compass stuff. “do unto others as you would have them do unto you.” universal. ethical. compassionate. conscious.

it would seem that we each – in this world – would feel an imperative to strive for the best we can do, with these words as a north star. it would seem that we would wish to lead with goodness.

and we are surrounded by real people who do just that. people who reach to others, sharing abundance with those in need, caring for those in despair, giving a hand to those who feel forgotten. we have been the recipients of this sort of care and we are grateful – not only for the aid of wisdom or resources we have received, but for the reminder of what it means to be human in a world of humans.

in turn, we try – best as we can – to be helpers. to lift spirits and, as we can, to lift the circumstances of people who have been less fortunate. we try to live thinking about others, treating others, as we would want them thinking about or treating us.

as artists we are entrusted with the creating of work that might somehow touch the world – change it – if even only the tiniest morsel of a bit. we write many words a day, never knowing if anyone will read these words, never knowing if any of the words make any kind of difference. we do it anyway. we paint, we compose, we take photographs. we just never know where any of it – all of it – might reach. and every now and then – out of the blue – someone we do not know, someone we will likely never meet will let us know that something has touched them, something has moved them, something has made them think or question or linger. and we know that the concentric circle has widened, the ripple has rippled. even a little bit.

as humans we are entrusted with short lives of being humane. we have every opportunity to show care and concern, to reach across differences, to offer kindness and love to others – people or animals. every single time we do even one small act we know that it impacts the world, that there are cells out there vibrating with the frequency of grace.

our presence in and with life – life itself – grants us the ability to appreciate it, to live into living. we know that – in the very end – all will fall away. and what will be left are the heart impressions we have made on others and they on us.

even if we have touched one person or one animal – in our tiny time here – we have healed a morsel of hurt in the world.

it doesn’t seem like that hard of a concept. it doesn’t seem that hard of a job.

in the end of ends, isn’t it the only thing that matters?

*****

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in an insane world. [kerri’s blog on d.r. thursday]

in an insane world, barney is sane.

barney has been stalwart, steadfast, unwaveringly standing in the garden through every infamous weather challenge – the rain, the sleet, the snow, the ice and the wind, the extreme heat, the drought.

it is one of the most gorgeous things in our backyard. we have watched it age, its wrinkles, its furrows, its jowls. we have watched it struggle to stay young, fresh, shellacked. we have watched it give in – to time and the elements. and, in that giving-in-ness, we have watched grace in real life.

in this insane world, i have thanked our old house and its painted-wood countertops, its old floors, its cracked plaster, its doorknob-less six panel doors. i have admired the tile floor in the bathroom and the way light streams in through the double-hungs. i have relished the paintings on our walls and the fabulous chunks of concrete that serve our living room. i have whispered to our house and i have thanked its familiarity and its comfort. i have taken refuge in its security. i have reveled in our comforter, our dogga at our feet, coffee by our side, happy lights. i have simplified need and put want to the side.

in this insane world, i have patted littlebabyscion as i get in and out, stroked big red as i have walked past it in the driveway. i have noted with great appreciation the wild geranium and the day lilies pushing up through cold dirt, the buds on breck. i have sat on adirondack chairs on the deck – still a bit bundled up – watching birds and squirrels, sipping wine and eating maybe too many chips. i have been grateful.

and i have gazed at barney-the-piano, over there, in the garden. i have felt it steadying me.

in this insane world, i have thanked barney.

“pardon my sanity in a world insane.” (emily dickinson – and barney)

*****

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the grace dance. [kerri’s blog on k.s. friday]

even laden with new snow, the grasses spring up, ever resilient. they show fortitude in predicament and circumstance – a teachable moment for those of us humans who are not impervious to such things.

maybe it’s their golden glow in sun low on the horizon. maybe it’s that there are small critters taking refuge under the umbrella of stalky stems. maybe it’s the reverent bow of the fronds, the balance in the arch of growth and weight, a toppling over. maybe it is simply grace.

“i do not at all understand the mystery of grace – only that it meets us where we are but does not leave us where it found us.” (anne lamott)

in moments of this past year i have found myself in the presence of grace. i have watched grace heal physical injuries. i have watched grace blanket people, restoring relationship. i have experienced grace reaching out its arms to envelop. i have received grace – the support of others. i have been surprised – even shocked – by grace and i have been surprised – even shocked – by a lack of grace.

for if the presence of grace – such an intangible mystery – does not leave us unchanged, then so does the absence of grace.

were the grasses to succumb, to be lying down, flat upon the earth, their glow of beauty and their cozy shelter wouldn’t be. their place in the world and its workings would be different, perhaps. their resilience seems to be the key.

“I know nothing, except what everyone knows – if there when grace dances, i should dance.” (anne lamott)

in the mystery that is beauty, that is grace, that is the intertwining of both – for surely they are hand in hand – there is an invitation for us to dance, upright upon a floor of dirt on earth under the sun, able to both receive and extend grace – like feathery fronds on an ornamental grass, ever resilient though the elements are threatening.

we carry that dance – tucked in – with us as we make our way. it is present, beckoning us. we can see it in the falling snow and the driving rain, thick fog and dark nights. it is there, ready to leave us different.

*****

GRACE © 2010 kerri sherwood

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donuts and stars. [kerri’s blog on two artists tuesday]

“the optimist sees the donut. the pessimist sees the hole.” (oscar wilde)

i suppose this could easily be applied to aging. somehow, in some rush of years, i am 65. it’s still a wonder to me and it has now become clear why my sweet momma was so astounded when she was almost-94 and thought she looked like “an old lady” when she looked in the mirror.

like my sweet momma, we are choosing to see the donut. which, i suppose, means one day we will be astounded as well. (truth be told, we are a tiny bit astounded by some tiny body-change each and every day, but we are holding off on the big-time astonishment as long as we can.)

so instead of seeing – and ruminating on – what’s missing in the here and now, instead of trying to clarify the blurry of what’s out there ahead of us, we – as an ever-aging couple – yikes – are zeroing in on the gifts of the present, the sweet phase – as we are calling it, and tapping the rich potential of the future. there is so much we don’t know but we are excited about exploring what’s next.

artists don’t really have solid retirements. it’s risky business, this being-an-artist thing. we keep on keeping-on because it’s an imperative, a driving force. we write, we paint, we compose, we mold thoughts and questions and experiences and impressions into tapestries that we – vulnerably – put out there for others to read, see, listen to, touch, feel.

we work for the donut-lovers and the donut-holers. we are not selective. we believe art is fundamental. art provides access and awareness. we are simply part of the delivery mechanism.

and so, even as we get older, that doesn’t change. we look to times of new projects, artist residencies, experiments outside our usual mediums. we aren’t simply done. and, maybe, in the words of grace hopper, “we’re just getting started.”

regardless, every day we walk toward astonishment we have decided to do it with as much grace, joy, anticipation and gratitude we can possibly muster. we will be (gluten-free) donut-lovers in the sweet phase and we will reach for each star past the donut hole.

“we are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars.” (oscar wilde)

*****

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in the grace of joy. [kerri’s blog on k.s. friday]

“yes, joy is the thing that has returned, and not a moment too soon.” (john pavlovitz)

like you, i’ve interviewed for many positions in my life. many of them were positions in non-profits. i spent thirty-five years as a minister of music in churches. i was asked the question “what do you bring to this job?” multiple times. i always answered the same way: “joy.” “i will always lead with joy,” i would add. and then this: “if you want perfection and not a joy-filled music program, i am not your person.”

as an entrepreneur, recording/performing artist and in managing roles i’ve also interviewed many people. i always looked for joy. for without it, life is flat. for without it, there is rote drudgery. without it, things seem dark. without it, there is doom and gloom, there is no hope, there is no light. without it, worthy projects, generosity and communities will not survive, will not thrive.

in the last two weeks i have been absolutely struck by the absolute change in vibration of the air around us. suddenly – with the advent of change in this election – we can see, hear, taste, FEEL joy. JOY.

“it’s a mystery.  grace.  it falls on us like morning dew, each and every day.  we rise, buoyant or troubled, joyous or grieving, in clarity or murky, in the light or in the dark. we step into next, knowing we have yet another chance.” (nov. 22, 2019 & august 20, 2021)

we are in the grace of joy.

we are feeling hope and light. we are feeling the freedom to laugh, to dance. we are feeling open hearts. we are feeling possibility. to live life. to experience – in all its complexities and differences – in grace – living together. we are tasting the future.

we passed by this nametag sticker stuck to the street merely three days before our president ended his re-election campaign and passed the torch of election to our vice-president. we were crossing the street and when we reached the other side i went back to photograph it. in an incredibly fraught time, “grace” caught my attention. we didn’t know then that a few days later we would be in a different election. we didn’t know that less than two weeks later we would be remembering what real joy is.

in joe’s love for this country and sacrifice of personal ambition and in kamala’s vibrant love of life and dedication to this democracy, we can dream, we can aspire – once again – for the best of what these united states of america can be.

joie de vivre…is falling on us like morning dew…we have yet another chance…

we can choose this. we can vote for this.

“…so everyone can pursue happiness unfettered…” (john pavlovitz)

*****

GRACE ©️ 2010 kerri sherwood
JOY ©️ 2005 kerri sherwood

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