reverse threading

the path back is the path forward


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body surfing. [k.s. friday]

it’s all a wave. we ride out, we ride in, the surf is gentle and easy, the surf is rough and pounding. as far as we can see into the horizon we know it will all be like this.

“frozen shoulder,” she said.

at the orthopedic specialist at the highly-regarded froedtert hospital, i blinked back tears. i have had appendage challenges the last two years. it’s a wave. in between the normal tides rolling in, we have a brush with a rogue breaker. she’s kind and explains the stages of frozen shoulder, what i might expect. it can take up to 42 months to un-freeze, she mentions, though i refuse to take that in. for nine months now, since the time of my covid booster, it has become my new normal, this painful and incomplete range of motion. she points to the deltoid and explains the vaccination – any vaccination – must go into the deltoid, not through or slip around it; if either of those happen, inflammation will result. i guess the wave of inflammation has roiled in.

the rogue wave passed by david a couple weeks ago, tapping him as it went. we rose to its challenge, just like we’ll rise to this one. it seems that the surf is not as still as we would wish right now, but there are moments of calmer waters.

we are adrift in our sea – each of us – as we go about living. each molecule of the lake party to the elements, each atom of us rawly exposed.

we are body surfing. every single day.

*****

ADRIFT from BLUEPRINT FOR MY SOUL ©️ 1996 kerri sherwood

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read DAVID’S thoughts this K.S. FRIDAY


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water and the soul of our house. [not-so-flawed wednesday]

deferred maintenance is never really a good thing. but i’m pretty sure that we’ve all had good reasons to defer that-which-ought-be-done, not the least of which is affordability.

over the last few years, we accumulated a list…somewhat prioritized…water always comes to the top, soaking up our attention…but we knew, well, we hoped, we would eventually be able to address the things that homeowners pay for but which have little to no public viewing. even though you want to, it’s not like you are going to drag someone into your basement to see your new copper water pipes from one of the mains to your laundry tub and washer. or the new water main turn-off handle. or the piping under the sink. or the gasket on the pvc that you can see opening the little access door inside the sitting room closet.

mike came to solve the faucet puzzle…we had the faucet and i had repeatedly gone to the ace to purchase supplies for under the sink, new pvc, new fittings. i was in the process of getting a graduated rubber coupler – to go from the pvc under-the-sink to the cast iron pipe coming out of the wall. dan had told us – oh, so long ago – to get that coupler, but the day that i went to the ace, they were out of the proper size. when we couldn’t get the valve handle to budge, we suspected it was time to call someone else in. we do know our limitations…and with plumbing and, especially, electricity, the bar comes fast.

and so, mike entered the picture. even he didn’t have an easy time as he retrofitted all the new plumbing for under-the-sink, but the faucet was gleaming (ok, matte black doesn’t really gleam) when he was done and we couldn’t really believe we could actually remove the bucket from under the sink. remember, it has been a time of water for us. he came back to redo the lines to the laundry and those (copper) pipes did gleam. we can now turn off the water there, should another water emergency arise (knock wood).

according to feng shui, water means emotional turmoil and overflowing water symbolizes being overwhelmed (probably by the water, i’d guess). there is also a warning that leaky faucets “symbolize prosperity, wealth, and abundance dripping down the drain.” (feng shui quick guide for home and office – carol olmstead) yes, dan was right. we should have gotten a new rubber coupler a ways back.

but it’s a ways later and the cold water line gasket, the storm drains, the fireplace wall, the storm drains on repeat, the bathroom sink, the water main – well, they should have cleansed us for sure – leaving only rainbows and unicorns and bubbles, opportunities for replenishing prosperity, wealth and abundance behind.

it is also said that a leak in a home releases any negative energy. in this house we really love, i cannot think of anything better than this exchange – a release and a gathering of “healthy vital life force energy” (laura cerrano).

good for the soul of our house.

*****

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


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cliffs and pine needles. [not-so-flawed wednesday]

i was ten with a camera in my hand. we were in the woods at sleepaway camp and there was a teepee. particular about photographs even back then, i wanted to take a full-length photograph of the teepee and the best way was to step behind a big pine tree and part the branches to take the photo. i brushed aside the branches and aimed my pocket instamatic camera only to realize that i needed to step back just a bit more to get the picture i wanted. i stepped back the teeniest bit to get my shot. and suddenly there was no ground.

i fell backwards about thirty feet off the cliff.

in my zeal for the photo i hadn’t noticed the cliff edge hiding behind the pine tree, which was precariously perched just off its side. after moments during which i’m guessing i was knocked out, i could hear the camp counselor and my best friend freaking out up on the trail and i tentatively moved things around – arms, legs and such. everything seemed to work. and in the odd swimming motions i was making down below teepee-land, i realized i had fallen into a gigantic pile of pine branches, all piled up, generously softening my fall. a few feet to either side and the dry ground was as hard as the large rock outcroppings scattered in the woods of camp koinonia in upstate ny. it seemed completely shocking to fall three stories and be absolutely fine and, when they made it down to where i was in the middle of branches and just a bit scratched up, the counselor, susan and i started laughing uncontrollably. how it went right is beyond me, but, somehow, luck prevailed.

we finished reading the salt path, a profoundly moving account of a newly-homeless couple hiking the entirety of the south west coast path in the UK. as one of the reviews reads, “inspiring…a true story of love, hope, and survival against impossible odds.” (j. santlofer)

five pages before the end, raynor winn wrote, “the shock of something going right is almost as powerful as when it goes wrong.” i was reading aloud. i read that line and stopped. i told d i had to re-read it. i read that line again and stopped. and i cried. not giant loud sobs like any of us in these fraught times deserve, but tears sliding down my face, uncontrollably, salty like the mist on the coast path. i was brought to a standstill by one sentence.

these times have proffered many surprises. we have felt challenged by challenges, betrayed by betrayals, silenced and minimized, left in the lurch. we have been cautious, we have bootstrapped. we have been canny by need, scrappy by necessity. we have found surprises at every turn. and, just at the time difficulty has made you get used to things going wrong, suddenly, you are shocked by something going right. someone has reached out. someone has cared. something – even one tiny thing – changed in the frequency pitches around you. something – even one tiny thing – is on the horizon. something – even one tiny thing – lifted the mist, that fog of uncertainty with side orders of confusion, grief.

and when you stepped off the cliff, you landed in a soft pile of pine needles.

*****

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