reverse threading

the path back is the path forward


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convergence. [kerri’s blog on k.s. friday]

i could get lost in just gazing at this spot where greens converge. i find myself breathing deeply, taking it in, appreciating how utterly extraordinary the nuance, how textural, how life-affirming.

it has been a week. with multi-layered challenges, personal and nationwide.

in the middle of the week, neck spasms – which i had in february for the first time in my life – and which sent me to the emergency room – returned with a vengeance. to say that i was laying awake all night, fearful of the way these manifested in my shoulders, my jaw, my chest, my neck, would be an understatement. it was downright scary. and so painful – even for someone with a relatively high pain threshold.

when it finally slightly eased up for a bit in the morning – after a long, sleepless night – i was exhausted and overcome with how it must be for people who are in chronic pain. the chronic pain of disease, of life-altering treatment plans, of hunger and thirst and of not-enough, of homelessness, of psychological and emotional scars, of addiction, of deep, all-consuming worry. thinking of others always puts one’s own pain in perspective.

for a bit of time – the bit when the spasms did not refer to all these other parts of my upper body – i could breathe more deeply. and so i went outside to our deck and little potting stand – to look at new growth, to soak in the colors green.

in wednesday’s news there was much headlining about a quiet interview that the speaker of the house had on a tiny radio station in his home state. and, in that interview, he revealed the intention of this administration – to fix (read: gut) medicaid, medicare and social security in an effort to free up money so that this government might be able to make a dent in the country’s trillions of dollars of debt which is – clearly – attributed to mountains of tax cuts for the ultra-wealthy.

so. their goal? take away from the most vulnerable and the eldest in order to further bankroll the gluttony.

it is hard to wrap your head around this kind of whoring of humanity. the word “disgusted” barely touches it.

again, i say, there is no reverence. they have reverence for nothing.

i wonder what our communities, our states, our nation, our world will look like once they have eliminated all that is good, all that is natural, all that is lawful, all that is compassionate, all that is life-giving or life-affirming. what will be left after the land and the natural resources and the regular folk and the goodness are decimated?

as i stood and looked at our tiny vegetable and herb garden, i was filled by the beauty, wrapped in the essence of green, and a sense of balance was restored in me.

though the spasms started up again, this is not about my neck spasms. when they re-started, i felt slightly more equipped to deal with them, carrying into the pain the knowledge that they would – in time – ease up.

but for some, there is no easing up. there is only long-term pain, without ceasing.

there are people intentionally hunted down for their ethnicity, people intentionally taken off rolls for food assistance, medical assistance, housing assistance. people removed from jobs of science and education and journalism so that the country ceases progressive forward-movement and so that the only narrative going forth is vile, self-serving propaganda. there are people targeted by the brandishing of bigotry. there are people whose chronic pain – no matter what it is – no matter the umbrella under which it falls – seem a nuisance to this administration, an administration without a heart or a conscience or any sense of reverence for anything other than self and money and retribution.

were i to be given a choice – live acknowledging simplicities – like the nuance of green OR live inside the insanity of always-wanting-needing-hoarding of moremoremore – i would go with cherishing the tomato plants and herbs and lavender and licorice plant every time.

i would go with the convergence of green, the convergence of goodness, the convergence of growth, the nuance of breath, the affirmation of life, living and reverence for it all.

*****

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what about? [kerri’s blog on flawed wednesday]

it isn’t hard.

it isn’t hard to clean and fill the birdbath so that the birds in the area can count on a drink of fresh, clean water.

it isn’t hard to clean and fill the birdfeeders – or the hummingbird feeder – or the oriole feeder – so that, if necessary, the birds in the area can count on accessible, clean food.

it isn’t hard to sweep the driveway and clear off the seedshells on the top of barney so that the birds in the area aren’t sickened by wet, moldy seed or bits of bread that have become sodden and mildewed.

it just isn’t hard.

but neither is it hard to be concerned – to wrap your heart around – those people in our country who are hungry, who do not have enough food, enough clean water, who are suffering from hunger-related or poor food issues.

yet, the government of this country – the administration that is gluttonous even beyond our imagination – has eliminated millions of dollars funding yet another source of food for the hungry, for the downtrodden, those who can ill afford food yet face peril without it.

i am truly sick of it.

what is so hard about this?

ours is a government in charge of a large country filled with people of phenomenal potential – yet they are limiting the most basic element of need for those very people – so that they might fund a garish ballroom and its associated bunker, an ill-intentioned war and its apparently-coveted weapons of mass destruction, vanity projects, payola to criminals pardoned by a narcissistic hand, wildly expansive tax cuts for the wealthiest, crude corruption never before witnessed on such a cavalier, widescale plane, the slicing and dicing of healthcare, education, global health, medical research, climate change programs that actually help people, mass deportation sans conscience, and the elimination of lawful rights of people who fall under the machete of bigotry.

but, you say, what about the people…how does this government view the everyday, everysingleperson people?

and what about the american goldfinch?

they clearly could care less.

*****

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braided days. [kerri’s blog on d.r. thursday]

“in contrast to our frenetic, saturated lives, the earth offers a calming stillness. movement and growth in nature takes time. … there is something in our clay nature that needs to continually experience this ancient, outer ease of the world. it helps us remember who we are and why we are here.” (john o’donohue)

this must be what’s missing. as we get besieged with new news – all pretty horrible, the stuff of gluttony, haughty entitlement and bigotry truly beyond belief – i have wondered what it is in these people that is missing, what it is in these people that doesn’t grok the evanescence of life, what it is in these people that drives them to push for – or cheer for – a world without natural beauty, a world that seems twisted, that convolutes nature – botoxing faces and bodies, annihilating parks and resources, canyons and forests, waterways, wildlife, wildflowers that will never bloom.

if you never stand in nature – still – never even for a moment in the tiny – or vast – space just outside wherever it is you hang your hat, you miss the air that swirls around you, the recognition of another-day, the exquisite velvet softness of a peony petal in the growth stage of a bloom when it has just begun to open.

how can you carry that – the grace, the scent, the unbelievable creation of peony pink – and be anything but awed? how can you watch the play of light on tight buds opening before your very eyes and consider your self-serving dystopian game more important? how can you ignore the explosions of color, the frequencies of sound, the vibrations under your feet and all around your body even when you are still? how can your gaze glance over beauty and not have any pondering about who you are and how you – a humble minute being of clay and stardust – fit in with all the rest? how can you breathe air – feeling the world in your lungs – and be unconcerned about the air and the world future generations will breathe? what is missing in these people?

“when you take the time to travel with reverence, a richer life unfolds before you. moments of beauty begin to braid your days.” (john o’donohue)

reverence.

it’s reverence that is missing.

*****

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waiting there. [kerri’s blog on two artists tuesday]

it is with great anticipation that i wait for the peonies. it’s a long process, from the ground up. from the tiniest maroon sprouts to buds just waiting to burst furth into the world – it’s glorious and wonder-full, and each year now i am thrilled to see the arc of these beautiful blooms.

my son said something in a social media post the other day that really stopped me. i went back and listened again. and again. he said that music waits for you…it waits for you to “come to it on your timeline”…it waits for you to come back…”it waits to accept you, ready to understand you.” it’s “never gonna go away and it’s always going to be there for you.”

and in those words, he brought tears to my eyes. not only because what he was sharing in that post about himself was vulnerable, not only because part of what he was sharing made me very sad to hear. but because his joy in the journey back to music – his music – was so clearly buoying, so very triumphant, a mighty trajectory of his creating.

i’ve been turning on the salt lamp in my studio lately. it’s like i want it to stoke up good energy in there.

standing next to my piano, i held the crystal divinatory pendulum in my hand, thinking about what questions to ask it…understanding that my subconscious would likely dictate what the answers would be. there are times that one is not really sure of one’s own subconscious thoughts or biases, the ability to translate from desire or idea into reality, into do-ing. times when pain pushes aside artistry.

i purchased this pendulum in a cool hippie store in northport, my hometown. on purpose. i thought it was striking – even in its simplicity – but i also wanted to bring home a bit of the internal-intuitive-wisdom and lighthearted belief-in-the-universe i had lost in that place decades ago. in these days of falling back in love with that harbor town, i wanted ways to surround myself with what i remembered about myself from the olden days of being in love with that water, that sand, that place. twelve dollars wasn’t too much.

and so, the other day i took it out of the small suede bag and held it first in my hand, reminding it who i was. and then i held it up and asked it to show me yes – it circled around. i asked it to show me no – it moved in a straight line back and forth.

and in the following minutes i asked it – words to the effect because sharing my exact words is just a bit too much right now – whether i would return to the music that was waiting for me.

it was still and then – i suppose after accessing my heart, the wistful tendrils of hope, the very tentative wisps of maybe-it-can-be-so, it circled wildly.

i thanked it and quietly put it away, not wishing to go any further right then. it was enough. we’ll see. the arc is not closed. the peony is going to bloom.

“music…it’ll be waiting there, ya know,” my wise son said.

*****

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enchanting. [kerri’s blog on k.s. friday]

we’ve gotten a few plants now. a couple sweet potato vines, a couple licorice plants. we also have our basil, chives, parsley, cilantro, jalapeños, cherry tomatoes and lavender. in the last few days we transplanted them into clay pots for our potting stand or their new home on our deck or patio.

our first day at the nursery was completely about reconnaissance. the second – at a different nursery – was to be wowed and make a few purchases…four to be exact. we were directly behind someone who had ridiculously-loaded carts of plants and flowers, along with a ridiculously-loaded price tag. we were just as excited as she was, only our joy was about our four plants, not a multitude. there is a reality to budgeting and we try to plan our purchases wisely, particularly in these times.

our third day out was crowded with people, the nursery was messy and the plants were picked over, but we still managed to find some herbs and tomatoes, lavender, salvia and sweet purple flowers whose name escapes me. our fourth day we filled in the gaps. the nursery had resupplied and we picked up the mint, jalapeños, and little white with purple flowers to contrast with the purples we had already gotten.

d lined up all the pots and planters on the patio and i took out my gloves from the old cabinet we had placed on the deck. and then it started.

from individual elements – these small (though not inexpensive) plastic pots of baby plants – turning into our own backyard sanctuary, filled with potential of beautiful flowers and edible produce. exquisite. each morning we look out the window – in the earliest morning light – to see these new residents of our home. each morning they are enchanting.

one day – over a century ago – all the pieces of barney were put together into an upright piano. where he went from there is unknown, but we found him in the church’s basement boiler room, not exactly a prime location for this musicmaking instrument.

after we managed to have him delivered to our backyard instead of to the junkman, we were thrilled with his presence. his aging might have been preserved by some marine wax, but we chose to go organic with barney. he’s way more of a granola piano than a botox piano.

through the years we have now had him, he has become more and more gorgeous, more and more a part of our backyard, offering shelter to the wee critters, a landing pad for those who fly or scamper. barney’s higher-purpose presence is grounding and part of the peace we feel when we step out our back door.

it’s hard to believe that it is almost june again. already. summer is at the edges.

the last two nights we have had dinner outside on the deck. as the sun just begins to slightly wane – to fall off into acute angles with the horizon – we sit and chat while the garden lights reflect in the pond. we wait for hummingbirds to zoom to our feeder. we watch breck quake in the breeze, marvel at the play of birds and squirrels, adore our dogga laying on the deck in the shade. it is all enchanting.

as the dark begins to settle into the alcoves of our yard – the ferns breathe deeply, the peonies stretch – we yawn and make our way inside. as we settle in under our quilt we talk about our day. we talk about the delights of new plants, marvel at the perennials we are astounded to see again. we are grateful for plastic adirondack chairs, a tiny bistro set, two old gravity chairs and a couple round rugs – the trappings of our deck – a place we truly find enchanting.

as it turns out, we don’t require much to be enchanted.

*****

GRATEFUL © 2004 kerri sherwood

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wear your heart on your leaf. [kerri’s blog on not-so-flawed wednesday]

early in spring, the markings on jumpseed in the underbrush look like hearts. they capture my attention because, well, hearts.

as jumpseed matures, it is said that these markings either fade or disappear entirely. so, no more wearing its heart on its sleeve…so to speak.

before settling in to write today we watched three john denver videos – of his song for you, his song the wings that fly us home and his annie’s song. we leaned back against a stack of pillows, snugged under a quilt on what has been a rainy day so far, linked arms and listened.

i am married to a man who is not afraid of weeping. he is not afraid of the tears that come to his eyes as he sees or hears something beautiful. he is not afraid to feel or show how he is feeling. his heart is emblazoned on his outer leaves. and i hope that no amount of maturing will change that.

i am fortunate to be a mush married to a mush. it doesn’t take much to touch us, to really drive home something sentimental, to get lost in the wistful, to recognize goodness and wonder, to feel yearning for kindness in the world, to fight tears.

i feel – in these times – that we are walking with a perennial lump in our throats, a deep sadness that rises with each new report of corruption, of cruelty, of destruction, of extremism, of degrading of peoples, of the administration’s intentional divorcing of this country’s constitution. our own fear and disappointment – added to the utter chaos in this land and globally – make a kind of despondency close at hand. “unbearable,” a friend wrote about the news. yes. truly unbearable.

it helps in some ways to talk about it though we are finding fewer and fewer people who really want to talk about it. i’m not sure why that is. silence – or the lack of conversation – does not make it go away. centering only on other things can feel like looking through rose-colored glasses – a bit of pollyanna-ing. for me, the sharing of worries or frustrations or fears seems authentic and feels like a way to support each other through these times.

but not every plant wears its heart on its leaf.

though…in these times…wearing your heart on your sleeve – even just a bit – a heartbroken heart watching the decimation of our nation – may be the thing that can bind us together. and talking-it-out might gird us all with the fiery grit we need to push back, to reclaim goodness here and everywhere.

“…and the spirit fills the darkness of the heavens/it fills the endless yearning of the soul/it lives within a star too far to dream of/it lives within each part and is the whole/it’s the fire and the wings that fly us home.”

*****

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surviving creepy and invasive. [kerri’s blog on k.s. friday]

the snow on the mountain groundcover creeps under the fence. it tries to take over the ornamental grasses, winds its way around our peonies, fills in spaces we didn’t necessarily need filled in. it’s invasive dressed in pretty. it has even given the wild geranium a run for its money. fortunately, the geranium – particularly under barney – has survived the overbearing groundcover and its sweet pink flowers are getting ready to bloom now.

i saw a post the other day that was a gut-punch. the words on the post read: “it’s illegal to feed wildlife at national parks because they get dependent on handouts and forget how to survive. it kinda sounds familiar, doesn’t it?‘ the photograph with the post was depicting minority moms and children in line with shopping bags and grocery pushcarts.

it literally made me ill. because it was posted by a neighbor with a comment that read, “hmmmm.” just despicable. and downright hard to believe that there are people who really feel that way. haughty. sickening. overbearing. uncaring. bigoted.

creepy and invasive.

that kind of bullshit post enrages me. it’s unconscionable. the hatred is just exhausting. how dare he/they be so righteous, so pompous, so entitled? with clearly no heart at all – no empathy – no love-one-another in their soul, no we-are-our-brother’s/sister’s-keeper. the judgment and demeaning attitude.

i could go on.

but i won’t.

because i am hoping that most of us in this country will be like the intrepid wild geranium. that we will bloom despite the invasive stuff that purports to be pretty.

that we will be able to spread goodness and kindness and compassion.

that we can possibly be the nation we were destined to become in a world that needs the caring interdependence of all people.

that we aren’t dreadful people who believe despicable things and then share those extreme racist views with the world, hoping for “likes”.

snow on the mountain is “incredibly invasive and will spread indefinitely if not restrained.”

*****

sorry about the language. but sometimes it fits. 🤷‍♀️

*****

PULLING WEEDS © 2010 kerri sherwood

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stars. particularly now. [kerri’s blog on d.r. thursday]

d just painted over a huge canvas that prominently featured a star. i asked him why he painted over it, for i like stars, the universal message of stars, just the whole thing of stars. he said he thought that the painting looked like a hotel print, so ixnay on that aintingpay.

he has since continued painting this canvas – with earth-toned hues. day is done is clearly – to me – a portrait of the end of day beyond a dramatic hill landscape, the sky glowing a pre-dusk orange, the sun setting.

“day is done/gone the sun/from the lakes, from the hills, from the sky/all is well, safely rest/god is nigh.

fading light dims the sight/and a star gems the sky, gleaming bright/from afar, drawing nigh/falls the night.

thanks and praise/for our days/’neath the sun, ‘neath the stars, ‘neath the sky/as we go/this we know/god is nigh.” (“taps”)

star-flowered lily of the valley are important pollinators and – later in the season – develop berries which are a perfect food for birds. they truly hold an important place in the ecosystem in the woods…’neath the sun, ‘neath the stars, ‘neath the sky.

the star-flowered lily of the valley is native, its white star-shaped flowers delicate. they are little constellations of beauty, nestled in the green of their frond-y leaves. they are joyful little flowers; they simply make me happy as we hike.

because stars are like that.

and we can all use a reminder of comfort and protection of the universe. particularly now.

*****

DAY IS DONE

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next will come. [kerri’s blog on two artists tuesday]

“we might think we are nurturing our garden, but of course it’s our garden that is really nurturing us.” (jenny uglow)

we have had a journey with breck. as a baby aspen, we brought it home in 2017 – a tiny sapling in a black plastic pot, bouncing along with us across the country in littlebabyscion.

there were more than a few times – in the first years – we thought we would lose breck – to the weather, the conditions, the displacement. we wrapped breck’s roots in its then-clay pot in blankets and black plastic. we planted breck and discovered it was the wrong place. we transplanted breck. and we always talked to breck, affirming its importance to us, its place in our lives, the meaning it had for us, cheering it on.

and now – breck is as tall as the garage roof and full of gorgeous quaking leaves. sparrows and cardinals regularly land on its branches and we can see it smile and sigh from our place on the deck, watching like proud parents, quietly grateful for its happiness – just like with our grown children.

to have breck in our backyard is to have a little piece of breckenridge in our backyard – a little piece of the high rocky mountains from where it came. it feeds us to look out back and see our aspen, standing taller and taller. it makes us dream and ponder, reminisce and just gaze at it in wonder – that what was a tiny aspen in a plastic pot has turned into a real tree.

it is not unlike artistry and artists – also real trees in a real world. even during the periods of fallow, when creativity is merely a pilot light, there is what comes next. there is the tiny spark that makes ideas come alive – the first stitch on a new quilt, the first note in a melodic gesture, the first paint in the underpainting, triggers of nurture.

and the ideas begin to quake – with or without wind – as they take hold of us.

“to plant a garden is to believe in tomorrow.” (audrey hepburn)

time goes on. and on.

and breck grows taller and fuller.

it is a constant source of both contentment and awe to watch.

soon now, we will plant our basil, parsley, mint, chives, jalapeños, tomatoes.

and next will come.

*****

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a pesky weed or? [kerri’s blog on merely-a-thought monday]

if you purport to be a weed – and only a weed – growing helter-skelter- invading lawns and gardens everywhere – then it is likely that people will see you – perceive you – as a weed.

if, instead, you believe you are vital early-spring nourishment for pollinators, recognized as a nutrient-dense food source, then it is likely that people will see you – perceive you – as beneficial.

it is all in what you believe about yourself and – here’s the tricky part – what you actually do about what you say you believe.

and why is that tricky? you ask.

i’m pretty sure you have stumbled across the vast hypocrisy – out there – that rears its ugly head from grandiose and magnanimous mission statements of organizations and institutions – even the current government (you don’t say!). these places that purport to be about, say, one thing or another – to stand for something.

i’m pretty sure you have been gut-punched – at some time – by the sheer hypocrisy that you have seen – that exists when push actually comes to shove – when the rubber actually meets the road – when the chips are down – at the moment of truth – that stubbornly squelches any culpability for what-they-say-they-believe – that atones in words but not in deeds. ohmygoodness, it is too prevalent to count, to even begin to depict.

human rights, the lgbtq community, racial divisions, birthplace bigotry, gender discrimination in the workplace, sexual abuse survivorship, places that foster accountability – the list of possibilities goes on and on. and yes, the hypocrisy goes on and on.

it all begs the question – what do you really believe?

and isn’t that just incredibly sad?

because how hard would it be to state what you believe in and then be what you believe in so that the statement “we are what we believe” would be a truth, a consistency in your business/organization/institution, something positive, life-affirming?

i guess the fact of the matter – in the end – is that just because you say you are what you believe doesn’t make you what you believe.

you have to live what you say you believe in order to be what you say you believe.

are you a pesky weed or not?

*****

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