reverse threading

the path back is the path forward

Tag Archives: gratitude


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the pontoon boat. [kerri’s blog on k.s. friday]

prior to going up-north i had only been on a pontoon boat once – in the carolina mountains with a black lab who loved to swim and a tiny little life-vested girl who equally loved the water and who spent time rafting alongside. our little boy had not yet even joined us, so it was a long time ago and the memory, although faded in detail, is clearly peaceful and beautiful. gloriously great fun.

the pontoon of up-north means laughter and snacks, old-fashioneds and slow cruising around the connecting lakes. it means conversation and story-telling, the search for loons, and the art of spontaneous plan-making.

we haven’t solved all of earth’s mysteries onboard, nor have we come up with a design for world peace, but we have found solutions to less pressing problems, offered and heard advice, dreamed a bit.

there is nothing quite like a pontoon boat to remind you of the power of community. and, more than once on that pontoon boat a few weeks ago, i looked around and gave abundant thanks for the others on the boat. snugged into comfy seats, sun on our faces, a summer breeze blowing, we are in a cove of deep friendship, people who can count on us and upon whom we can depend.

moments like these lend themselves to carrying a kind of a pontoon boat philosophy of life everywhere…a place of inclusion, of generosity, of comfort, a place of openness and caring. a place to share some time, to float ideas, to listen, to feel heard, to have raucous fun, to be quiet. a gentler ride through life, with people around you who will be there when the seas are rougher, when you need a little help with forward momentum, when their support is like oars in a rowboat.

we are fortunate – when we can give over to the pontoon boat. we are fortunate – life presents us with people with whom we can ride along together. we are fortunate – we are reminded of the sheer gift of community. we are fortunate – and we take time to be grateful.

the loons watched us and then, after a few seconds of study, they determined we were simply co-existing with them. they paddled away, riding our rippling wake.

*****

TIME TOGETHER: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=orq9Q6Wd5O4

read DAVID’S thoughts this K.S. FRIDAY

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an upside. [kerri’s blog on d.r. thursday]

i scoured the streets of san francisco looking for it. i had somehow lost the peace pendant my daughter gifted me – it fell off from around my neck and, as we moseyed away from the san fran moma and shopped, i suddenly realized it was gone. i immediately backtracked my steps, even knowing it was not likely i would find it. we all walked with our eyes peeled to the city streets.

as i stepped up onto a curb while crossing a busy street, i saw it. there, in the gutter of the road, lay the pewter peace sign and its chain. i felt a surge of relief finding it, for I truly do treasure the gifts my children have given me and, of course, you know how thready i am.

years ago, the kiddos made a shopping trip to target. together they picked out a tall bamboo vessel with golden and deep red-dyed dried reeds and gave it to me – a gift. it has – since then – continued to have a place in our home. now it stands in the bedroom, between the red and white gingham-checked recliner wing-chair and the jewelry armoire i purchased on marketplace, right in front of the window. in the morning, the sun streams in and sets the reeds aglow. and i think of my beloved children every single time.

i suppose i could be less thready, a tad bit less sentimental. it’s not likely, though.

i could take you on a walk through our house and yard. the stories would not be about the value of objects we have displayed or the name-brand of things we own. the stories would be narratives, tales of experiences we’ve had, of times with others, of things we’ve been gifted, of workarounds, of love delivered in a plant, a candle, a wine holder, hearts, peace signs, a rag-rugged love sculpture, a quilt, of history in a branch, an old table, a window frame, vintage suitcases.

when littlebabyscion had trouble last week – and we had a conversation – me and littlebabyscion – i asked it to hang around longer. and i fully expected it to listen, because i have basically personified that little vehicle since i purchased it. friends from all over wrote to ask how littlebabyscion was, because, well, they know. yeah, less thready is not likely.

this morning was intensely beautiful. with the sun starting to pour in the open windows and all the fans off for the moment – so no white noise – we could hear the birds, the gurgling pond, the airplane flying above. we sipped coffee and dogdog laid on the foot of the bed. there was nothing you could have done to have made it any better. feet tucked under the blankets – for it was still a little cool in the early morning – we were silent.

i memorized it and tucked it away.

that way, another day – when it’s cloudy outside or inside – i could pull it all back and remember, i could let that moment wrap around me once again.

thready has an upside.

*****

read DAVID’s thoughts this D.R. THURSDAY

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DeeNCee Lullabaloo. [kerri’s blog on two artists tuesday]

it would be an understatement to say we were excited to see a frog in our pond again. we’d been waiting and then gave up. it’s a tiny pond – and it has attracted a frog for many years save a couple – but it has been an extraordinarily hot summer and we thought it possible that we would never see one in our backyard watering hole this year.

and yet, there it was. we cheered and, later, before we turned on the last night of the democratic national convention, toasted his existence.

we named him DeeNCee Lullabaloo – after both the DNC and the lull in which we have dedicated ourselves. DeeNCee, for short, though his whole name is ridiculously fun to say aloud.

way back when, it was helen who told us what it meant to have a frog – “fully rely on God,” she said, encouraging us to trust in hope and what was to come. since that first frog, life has been a real mash-up of stuff that has happened. but every frog that has turned up – each spring or summer or early fall – has been another sign of hope, another small miracle. for each one we have been grateful and a little bit astounded.

DeeNCee showed up on thursday, the same day that kamala harris accepted the democratic nomination to run for president.

the convention had been unbelievably exciting to that point…speakers and performers and politicians all stoking the flame of hope, the sprinkles of joy everywhere, light – a part of our future.

until a mere few weeks ago, it all looked rather bleak, a country destined to fall under the leadership of those who aren’t truly concerned about e pluribus unum, those who want complete and utter power and control, those who do not deserve such a honorable task as to lead this nation.

and then…then…hope, light and joy burst forward and suddenly there is a chance for our gay son to marry, our daughter to continue to be in charge of her own body, our great-nieces and great-nephews to enjoy racial equality, our younger neighbors to benefit from affordable, sustaining healthcare, our older neighbors to enjoy retirement and healthcare through social security, medicare and their choice of medicare supplemental plans. the list of possibilities is lengthy and the GOP – which is self-destructing – tries to misrepresent what is possible, tries to evade real questions about project 2025 and agenda 47 intentions, tries to bully their way in their desire to push the populace into a dark cave.

but we are alive and we are voiced and we have energy and stamina and longevity.

DeeNCee Lullabaloo showed up at the right time – to help celebrate the convention and its promise and to remind us to be in the lull, a place of peace and hope, a place of light and joy, a place where we might soak in the wisdom of a higher power – whatever we choose to call that deity.

in our tiny pond DeeNCee will sunbathe and eat bugs, swim and hop – thrive – in freedom.

and in our country, we humans will also thrive – all of us in freedom.

*****

read DAVID’s thoughts this TWO ARTISTS TUESDAY

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classics frenzy. [kerri’s blog on saturday morning smack-dab.]

it could easily put you in a frenzy.

technology – stuff – is like that. and we are surrounded by old technology and old stuff. now, don’t get me wrong. i’m not complaining. it’s just a fact. besides, i heard kamala loud and clear when she said, “don’t complain. dooo something about it!!”

and so, i do the workaround. it’s a bit like the electric shuffle, a mix-up of the hustle and the bump, maybe a little macarena-ish. it’s not a pretty mash, but it moves and shakes and gets it done.

a little over a week ago my laptop died. there is a grey folder with a question mark flashing when i turn it on. this is not good news for a macbook from 2008 – the year my girl graduated high school – and i immediately shut it down, in the hope that the next time i turn it on all will be well and it – personifying it, of course – will have forgotten its troubles and will simply get back to work.

in truth, i haven’t tried that yet.

i’m not anxious or excited about the outcome. well, to be fair, i am anxious, just not excited. i – listing heavily to optimistic – am hoping against hope that it will turn on and remember everything that would otherwise be lost. anxious. yes.

and so, in the meanwhile, i am typing on a mini ipad and trying to find creative ways to do what it is we do. so a little redundancy will have to work.

we have classic stuff.

our three vehicles (littlebabyscion, big red and my vw superbeetle) add up to 97 years old. my iphone is a 6, from the dark ages of 2016. this ipad is a mini2, only five years old but way past retiring. our tv is a non-smart late teen. it is as it is. and we totally make the best of it. not complaining, nope, nope.

i just know – in the middle of these workarounds – that there are those of you out there who get it. i wonder what it would be like to never have to figure things out, to never have to make it work, to never have to stand where you are and just be grateful and not wanting of more.

when i wash my hair today and tip the bottle, slapping the bottom of it over and over to get the last vestiges of shampoo out, i will think of my sweet momma and – apparently – kamala’s as well.

i’m thinking beaky and shyamala are visiting together on some other plane, maybe having sweet tea and, though they know we have plenty to complain about, watching us all dooo something – the best we can. and that, my dear friends, is classic.

*****

read DAVID’s thoughts this SATURDAY MORNING SMACK-DAB

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for the little things and the big things. [kerri’s blog on d.r. thursday]

we drove home with the heat blasting and the windows open. all 263 miles.

we drove slower than usual – cruise control on – smiling at everyone who passed us as we toodled along in the right lane.

we stopped every hour.

each time, we raised the hood, set a timer, stretched our legs. we readied the old beach towel and the funnel, got out the big jug of coolant and waited till it was safe to open the radiator cap.

and littlebabyscion – with whom i had had a few conversations prior to getting on the road – hung in there.

each time we opened the radiator cap to reveal that the coolant level had not changed. the red coolant light – which had intermittently flashed at us numerous times on the way up north – causing great distress – never flashed at us on the the way home.

when we got off the interstate for the last eleven miles or so, i turned off the heat. and LBS dutifully and safely got us home. no flashing lights on the dashboard. no drop in the level of coolant in the radiator.

so it’s all a bit of a mystery – this curious and first-time problem – the flashing light, the seriously depleted coolant on our way up. i have a few theories and, frankly, i’m hoping they are correct, that our brilliant mechanic will concur. that would mean that nothing is really horribly wrong with LBS. and that would mean we can continue our journey together. 276,000 miles and beyond.

we – david and i – were seriously serious about staying in the calm-zone as we dealt with this car issue while on a little time away and, mostly, while driving home. though i, initially, was pretty upset about the potential problem that this could represent, my conversations with LBS were fervent and d and i were determined to stay in the zen-zone all the way home. taking the over-the-phone advice of our mechanic, knowing that our dear friends were not-too-far behind us and that 20 was waiting at home with dinner and ready to help in any way were all sources of infinite reassurance. that kind of support gives one confidence to keep going, to not immerse in worry, to just trust it all.

it’s been a long, long time since i have driven on an interstate with the windows wide open. it’s a noisy place. and yet, the kwik-trip, the fox river park, the giant truck stop all provided us with quieter places to stop, places to wait it out, places to be celebratory each time we opened LBS’ radiator cap and then packed it all back up and drove on for the next hour.

this was an in-the-lull lesson for us. any moments of upset were not helpful. instead, staying focused on the things we could do, the help we had been offered, the steadiness of this little xb – these all gave us the ability to stay in the moment and not lose the lull.

i’m not positive we would have passed the lull-test alone. we are infinitely grateful to have not felt alone. that is the power of community for each of us – this abundance of support. when we wouldn’t have normally asked for help, it was there anyway. we just need to remember it’s right there. for the little things and the big things.

*****

read DAVID’s thoughts this D.R. THURSDAY

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the lull. [kerri’s blog on k.s. friday]

in this time – the lull – we will immerse in each moment. we will not tarry in angst nor indulge in everyday worries. we will step back from all of it. we will try to quiet our minds. we will simply be in it.

it’s like a pause. only not. because we are not paused; we are breathing and moving and appreciating – all in gratitude, intentionally slower, intentionally sans complexity, intentionally sans discord.

soon enough, there will be lists of things to do, to sort, to attend to, to concern ourselves with. things to decide, things for which we need muster courage or fortitude.

but for right now, for this bit of time, there is only the lull.

*****

listen to PEACE: https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=7T3pQmQrz4A

read DAVID’s thoughts this K.S. FRIDAY

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today. [kerri’s blog on two artists tuesday]

i just scrolled past a winnie the pooh meme. “what day is it?” asked pooh. “it’s today,” squeaked piglet. “my favorite day,” said pooh.

we went back.

we bushwhacked through the overgrown woodsy area to make our way under the big fallen branch and onto the beach. “our special beach” we called it. we couldn’t wait to get there – to this spot of sand and pebbled shoreline that rarely had any visitors.

we emerged from under the big fallen branch and stepped onto the sandy overlook to see a beach full of people, full of jetskis and motorized rafts, boats anchored in the water, waverunners zooming in and out of the new jettied cove.

wow.

we stood for a moment, taking it all in.

for this was the place we went to for quiet. this was the place we searched for hagstones. this was the place we sat on big pieces of wild driftwood, watching the waves come in, the waves retreat. the place to reflect, sort, breathe.

we stood for a few more moments, trying to grok it, decide what to do.

we took a walk on the shore where the waves meet the sand. it was clear a lot of work had been done on this beach. and we had to agree that it was truly beautiful, even in its changed state. we walked south and then back north. and we found that – all along – there was a parking lot that led to the beach. all along there was an easier way in. all along there was access. go figure.

as we walked south, with the waves lapping our feet – in the exquisite way that feels on a soft sandy beach – we remembered the other days we had spent there. beautiful, peaceful days. we talked about how grateful we were for those days.

and then we walked north.

we took the road past the marina and stepped onto the boardwalk. we hadn’t ever gone this way before.

the boardwalk wound its way past all the slips, around the yacht club, past the charters. on a most gorgeous day we delighted in this new place to stroll. the sting of the busy-ness of the beach faded and we planned on returning to “our beach” later – maybe a late evening, maybe in september. in the meanwhile, this stroll was the loveliest thing.

“what day is it?” i asked david, a little lost in time having been under the weather for over a week and just starting to feel better.

“it’s today,” he replied.

“ahhh…our favorite day,” we agreed.

*****

read DAVID’S thoughts this TWO ARTISTS TUESDAY

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place and time. [kerri’s blog on not-so-flawed wednesday]

we took shelter in the east-side parking lot of a brick building in a town a half hour from home. the intense storm was coming from the west. there were tornado warnings and the winds were gusting over 70mph. a deluge of rain fell from the sky – sideways.

debris had hit littlebabyscion as we were driving so when i finally got out of the big treed area on the backroad, i saw the brick building and an empty parking lot. i pulled in, drove away from the giant metal signage and the telephone poles out front and on the side and pulled into the lot on the east side, parking in the middle.

that’s when the wind attempted to pick up littlebabyscion. i started shaking then – and didn’t really stop until much later when we were finally home.

i backed up the car and pulled over right next to the brick building to shield us from the wind. it helped but the storm was incessant and the warnings – actual warnings – were ominous.

our dear friend jen checked in on us – knowing we were driving home from chicago’s pridefest – and we also checked in with our dear westneighbors to see how our ‘hood was faring. and we kept pulling up the weather app – though the tornado alerts blaring on our phones were information enough. it was bad out.

it’s odd, you think, that the only reason you are dealing with what you are dealing with is because you happen to be in what-could-be-interpreted-as the wrong place in what-could-be-interpreted-as the wrong time. it’s bracing.

as we drove through the little towns on our way back from chicago, we passed through highland park. each time we drive through that town – with “highland park strong” signs – i think about the hideous active shooter at the 4th of july parade a couple years ago. wrong place, wrong time. but how can that be? you are taking your sweet children to watch a parade celebrating our country! how can that be the wrong place? how can that be the wrong time? it’s beyond bracing.

and what about the people at the grocery store in arkansas? and the people at the concert in las vegas? and the people at the sikh temple or at church? and the people at the mall? and the people at the club? and the people at the protest? and the people at school and school and school and…?

i whispered a prayer to the universe as we sat in littlebabyscion in that east-side parking lot next to the brick building in the middle of that treacherous storm. it was harrowing and i knew we were in danger. i asked for the wisdom to know what to do and to keep us safe. i knew that when the storm passed and if we were fine i would have immense gratitude.

no different than the highland park paradegoers, i thought, though nature and evil are two distinctly different causes of terror. and wrong place, wrong time is on a continuum between lack of intent and intent.

and, with all respect and honor to each of those too-many-people who have experienced evil’s intentional wrong place, wrong time – in those moments of wrong place, wrong time is one strangely-wrapped gift.

it is to take note of all the right places and right times. we are not guaranteed these yet we pass through them without paying attention. we take them for granted. we slide through moments – exquisite and plain – with no heed to our good fortune to have been in them.

as LBS protected us yet once again – that little car is intrepid – i, shaking with clenched hands on the wheel, also told the universe “thank you” for the rest of that day – all the good places and good times. for, though there were more than i could count, i wish to remember each and every one.

*****

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

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harbor. harbor. harbor. [kerri’s blog on not-so-flawed wednesday]

we watched the band on the lakefront at the harbor. the sky began to pastel itself into evening. the water reflected masts and the outline of the docks. at these slips i am gently transported back to northport harbor – days long ago – evenings filled with the clanking of rigs and seagulls seeking yet one more morsel. those were innocent nights and i couldn’t imagine myself anywhere else back then.

seagulls fly over our house fairly often since we live so close to the lake. their screeches fling me back in time just like the sun setting over the harbor. a lifelong sea-level girl who also adores the high mountains, i do love the water. we are fortunate to feel the presence of lake michigan – right…there. it’s not long island sound or the atlantic ocean, but it’s big water and we are aware of it, year-round.

we took a long walk along our lakefront the other day. the farmer’s market was bustling. there was a bridal party having a photo shoot in the breezes by the boats. six tiny children clustered around a cake singing happy birthday. food trucks were tempting and people wandered with big bundles of flowers. we turned from our harborfront and came back south – hugging the lake. few people, less hustle and bustle. we stood – with uninterrupted views of this really big lake – marveling at how beautiful it was and how fortunate we were to be able to walk along it at any time.

the guitarists sang and played songs from a variety of genres. they were terrific and the night was just-the-right-shade-of-cool. we sang along and i wanted to get up and dance in the grass a time or two. harbor thoughts floated as the sun set. we pasteled closer to darkness settling in and got ready to leave.

and the threshold of night – on the western sky – greeted us as we turned to go, boldly exclamation-pointing the evening.

*****

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

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daisycup abundance. [kerri’s blog on k.s. friday]

“it’s impossible to be lonely

when you’re zesting an orange.

scrape the soft rind once

and the whole room

fills with fruit.

look around: you have

more than enough.

always have.

you just didn’t notice

until now.”

(abundance – amy schmidt)

and the daisy turned skyward – cup-full. and as i passed, it reminded me of abundance and plenty.

for the measure of both abundance and plenty is not rigid. it is variable. my plenty is different than yours. and different expectations apply to abundance. it does not serve me well to gauge mine – my plenty, my abundance – by your standards. no, that comparison is not right. there are similarities. there are dissimilarities.

instead, i’ll look at the daisycup. i’ll set my face to the sun. i’ll count the times the dogga runs around the pond. i’ll gaze at the pussywillows on the white bathroom windowsill. i’ll savor the creak of old floors under my bare feet. i’ll tighten the back screen door handle. i’ll watch the house finches dine on grape jelly. i’ll feel his hand wrapped around mine.

we’ll go look for turtles from the bridge. we’ll clink glasses on the deck. we’ll listen to the wind in the chimes. we’ll paint rocks, write words and create big pots of soup. we’ll walk in sync on the sidewalk. we’ll make leftovers and serve them with happy napkins. we’ll relish time with family, with friends. we’ll make plans; we’ll revise plans. we’ll kiss goodnight.

because – when i notice – my daisycup is full.

with plenty.

abundance.

*****

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