this brings me joy – stepping into this tiny little corner garden. each year it has been a place to wonder, to learn, to dream, to envision bounty. tiny as it is, it is a place of abundance and, even as autumn falls, i cherish its every bit of 28 square feet.
the parsley and the basil are still producing – they graced our homemade tomato soup last night. there are a few jalapeños left, still growing. the dill has dulled; the mint has faded. the cilantro has bolted time and again, despite my best efforts to convince it otherwise. the cherry tomatoes are ripening on the vine and the rosemary is a small tree. i suspect the rosemary will make its way inside for the winter. it all makes me think of next year’s planting – adding sweet potatoes in planters, more tomatoes, maybe a few other vegetables. it’s all been a lesson in embracing something new. it is a tiny space of zen.
we are considering some changes as we look around our house. in the cleaning-out mode, less and less is necessary. clearing away a child’s desk, a lateral file, unused appliances or electronics…it’s all fodder for the space we need – particularly in these times – for cherished quiet, for serenity. i am finding there is a direct connection between the more clear space and the more breath. it will take some time, as it has taken decades to acquire so many things. but we have time and, i believe, we have the wherewithal to go through our house, room by room, and invite in a sagefilled peace.
it’s really all about intention. though we do not live in a vast home and are not surrounded by vast acreage, we bring an intention to our home that is purposeful. as we move from room to room, slowly parsing out the unnecessary from the necessary or the wanteds, slowly replacing items with other items or replacing items with air-and-space, we tend to how it feels. we want to create a space in which we feel comforted, supported, valued. we want to create a space in which others feel comforted, supported, valued. we want a place filled with soul and acceptance of the inbetween moments in all of life.
today we’ll make a batch of pesto. as i look at the basil plants, i figure it will likely be the last batch this season. oh, there will be a bit for our homemade margherita pizzas, but not in real quantity. so we’ll go slow. snipping and rinsing, chopping and grating. we’ll talk about our garden – truly, for the umpteenth time. we’ll relish the pungent aroma of freshly-picked basil in the house.
and we’ll stand in the kitchen – looking at each other – with tears in our eyes – astonished at our good fortune.
and just last week or the week before, i put the j away.
when you are from long island “oy” is not an uncommon response – to many things. it can span the spectrum from light-hearted to the intense, though, in reaction to the intense, you would be less likely to use the derivative and more likely to use the whole saying – oy vey!
surprise, dismay, grief, frustration, distress. all of it.
it seems like it was a particularly prescient moment for the j to fall and the oy to stand firm.
who am i to question gravity and the wisdom of corrugated galvanized metal?
“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)
time to speak up. time to own what you have pondered, researched, debated, lost sleep over. time to honestly consider the choice and its true ramifications. time to think beyond yourself and reflect upon the legacy you are choosing. time to weigh in on the qualifications, the integrity, the character of the candidates. time to deliberate good and evil. time.
we have not remained silent. we have spoken and written and cartooned. we will continue to do so. because it is – indeed – time to take action.
our precious votes will not be squandered on a candidate whose sole focus is himself. they will not be spent on a man who lacks basic humanness, whose criminal and monstrous behaviors demonstrate his ambitions. they will not support a party that has eaten itself alive, that has become pistol-focused on autocracy, on mean-spiritedness, that would have the audacity to use name-calling and underhanded bitter tirades to represent itself. they will not be cast for a ticket that quashes the freedom of women and LGBTQ, that deliberately builds up the rich and ignores those in need, that slashes equality for race, gender, religion, orientation, that has intentional plans for undermining the life, liberty and pursuit of happiness of all in this country, all entering this country. these precious and important votes of ours will not buy into the repugnance of maga and its hideous scheme for the future. no.
instead, our votes – this opportunity, this responsibility, to participate in the future of the united states of america – will be cast with the honor and respect and diligence due them. they will be educated, considered, based on researched fact, leaning into joy and hope for future generations, looking toward light instead of bleak darkness.
there is no choice here. there is only one worthy candidate.
and though i would – with absolute certainty in my mind and heart – vote AGAINST maga, i, instead, will vote FOR the democratic ticket. i will vote FOR kamala harris and tim walz . i will vote for kindness and the community of this country. i will vote for democracy.
and i will take action each day to help the future of this country for us, for our daughter and son and their partners, for our friends and extended family regardless of their votes, for our town, our state, this nation and the world.
the choice is obvious. i am not going back to the stifling, suffocating, unconscionable ugliness of what we have seen – what we see – from maga.
“i go to nature to be soothed and healed, and to have my senses put in order.” (john burroughs)
to draw a paddle through silky water, to listen to the call and response of the loons, to feel the breeze off the lake and to catch the first and last glimmers of sun rising and dropping through the trees…it is completely unremarkable to say this is soothing, that these moments are healing. it is unremarkable because it is obvious, because these are so remarkable – each – and because our senses rise to these offers of peacefulness, to these opportunities for rejuvenation…every time.
we have viewed each night of the democratic national convention. the joy, the energy, the hope – they are palpable. to say that our nation needs all this is an unremarkable statement, because – of course – it is obvious. we need joy. we need energy. we need hope. we need this kind of light. we need to be soothed and healed. and we need our sense put in order.
it should be unremarkable to have – to own – this kind of hope and light and joy in this country. it should be a given. this is supposed to be the fruitful land of opportunity, a place of freedoms, a nation where – with goodness our north star – we may be who we are. and, when our senses are put in order, we remember this…each and every one of us.
when we are in chaos, when there are those wreaking ugly havoc, when division and mean-spiritedness are being stoked, when soothing and healing is far from the minds of those who wish to be leaders, it is a time we must rejuvenate our country. we must move forward, not back. we must seek the best in each other, aspire for unity, clutch onto fervent hope with all we’ve got, put our faces to the sun and get sensical.
because it should be obvious in these united states of america that democracy and freedom are the only choice, that kindness and loving one another is the way of life, that equality and acceptance and inclusion are undeterred, that sense – real sense – is in order. and that – in all its brilliant remarkableness – pointing out that those are fundamental to these united states of america is completely unremarkable. because it is obvious. because it is the way.
we drew the paddles of the canoe through the glassy water, exploring the crannies and coves of the lake. to say we were soothed, healed – even momentarily – from worries pummeling our minds, that we were able to return to our senses would be an unremarkable statement. obviously we were.
living in this country – as a place where peace and freedom and forward movement and opportunity and goodness toward each other abounds – should be as obvious.
please vote with your senses and sense in order. let us promise a soothing, healing, joyful, intelligent, abundant future to all who come behind us.
i had never been in a butterfly house before. the chicago botanic garden has such an exhibit right now and we saved it until last – after all the beautiful gardens and fresh air had zenned us out. if it is possible to sink further into zen than being enfolded in gloriously intentional blooming, this butterfly garden is it.
it isn’t a huge screen enclosure – and they allow limited people in at a time – but it is complete immersion in the magical. enchanting. for two artists who draw inspiration from the outdoors and its gorgeousness, we felt like we could have stayed there for hours.
butterflies were literally everywhere…on the plants, on the screen, on the path and – most delightfully – on us. the first moment a butterfly landed on us felt like you had been chosen for something uniquely special – this fragile creature with wings of scales and chitin (a fibrous protein) supported by a system of veins. nature, indeed. how is this kind of iridescence even possible?
only one other time – that i can remember – did a butterfly land on me. it was shortly after my big brother died and, as this butterfly flitted around me out front in an adirondack chair, i was convinced he was sending me a message. until it landed on me and hung out. then i was sure it was my brother, having converted his life energy temporarily into that of a butterfly. i was astounded and ever so grateful.
this time i was just in complete awe. i felt chosen as a few butterflies lighted on my hands or my arms, one at a time. i spoke quietly to each of them, thanking them for this incredible moment in time…a moment when i was reminded that we are all – butterflies and people – on this good earth together. we are all doing life the very best we can. we are all capable of gorgeous and of making another feel singled out and exceptional.
butterflies in this sanctuary just have to fly around and then land, their visit a thing of softness…a mica moment.
we – as people – can also lift someone, transport them into nirvana … in so many ways. we need remember that. our goodness is not winged, but – with our loving encouragement – others may fly. it’s all pure magic.
it made third and fourth grade recess tough. i would be outside on the playground with my little group of girlfriends and – all of a sudden – there would be this incoming-bully, chasing after me as i ran my heart out to get away. he was faster and dedicated to his mission of twisting my wrist, so he would always catch me. he never really got in trouble, though. i wonder how that has carried him through his life. i suspect he is still a bully, only now uses words or actions that don’t involve twisted wrists (at least not in the literal sense.)
we just got off a call with a dear friend out of state. we played ukuleles and sang together over a zoom call. we chatted. and it was a joy. the thing we most agreed on was the fact that there is not enough time as it is in life to be anything but joyous. we don’t have time for ugly.
truly, none of us has time for ugly. the bullying and name-calling and undermining and hurtful harm stuff is the stuff of third grade – a period when the whole world is stretching out in front of you and you have no true concept of time’s limitations. it is closer to adulthood – and, certainly most definitely in adulthood, i would think – that we become aware of our mortality, the fragility of this life, the gift of being present on this good earth. and – with that all in mind – who’s got time for ugly?
david asked me if tommy remained my friend. i answered honestly. he did not. i no longer trusted him – his bullying was tormenting and mean-spirited. and there is no reason why i would want to be friends with anyone who would treat me that way. there is no reason why i would want anyone to treat people that way. anyone at all.
bullies have no place in a reasonable, compassionate society. they have no place in the public eye. they have no place in leadership.
we all don’t have enough time for them or their ugly.
“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)
thousands upon thousands upon thousands of hearts gathered at PRIDE on milwaukee’s summerfest grounds over the weekend. it was a spectacular festival.
our son performed as a headlining EDM artist on the newly-renovated dance pavilion stage – the city skyline peeking out from the giant dome under which over five thousand people sardined to listen, their hearts invested in this event that freed them to be who they are.
we had backstage passes and that gave us access to be up-front and close to the action. not too far from our son on stage, not too far from dancing furries and acrobats and machines that spewed out fog and confetti, not too far from the fireworks display in the sky. it gave us a place for our hearts to watch our son in his bliss. it gave us a place from which to watch the crowd. they were energized and bouncing up and down and waving styrofoam rainbow light wands. they were alive and free to be.
we went to a street festival the next day. our son performed again. though this time he was on a smaller stage that was a bit rickety, he was no less committed to providing music that was celebratory and drove the beat home. we irresistibly moved to the music and danced in the street and laughed at antics of revelers all around us – till tears came from our eyes.
the two guys walking by looked over at us as we danced. “youngsters!!” one said, “i love it!! giddyup!!” we thanked him and giddied up, laughing, still convinced we were among the oldest people at the event. did i mention spectacular?
every heart at that PRIDE festival this weekend deserves the same thing. the opportunity to be who they are, to love, to express that love, to respect and be respected. everyone hugged everyone. there was no quota. there were no parameters. there was no resistance. there was love of living. there was joy.
reverse threading 