reverse threading

the path back is the path forward

Tag Archives: lessons from nature


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gnarly. [kerri’s blog on k.s. friday]

“ooh child, things are gonna get easier

ooh child, things’ll get brighter

ooh child, things are gonna get easier

ooh child, things’ll get brighter

some day, yeah, we’ll put it together and we’ll get it undone

some day when your head is much lighter

some day, yeah, we’ll walk in the rays of a beautiful sun

some day when the world is much brighter…”

(“ooh child” – stan vincent 1970 the five stairsteps)

it is hard for me to avoid. i simply cannot help it. or maybe i just can’t resist the impulse.

we play rummikub every monday and thursday with 20 after we share dinner together. and – every single time – something one of them – d or 20 – says, makes me break into song.

we were talking about the obvious – you know – the state of our country. it was in an unusual fit of optimism. it was right after we talked about bernie sanders and aoc and the pushback of intellectually woke people against authoritarianism etc etc etc (i know you hear that line now – from the king and i – uh-huh, uh-huh – etc etc etc).

it had been a week since we had seen 20 (which is also unusual) and much had happened – on both sides – so there was a lot to talk about.

in that week we had found a different trail. it wound its way through a rural landscape and we enjoyed its newness. and then there was this tree. one sturdy old gnarly oak in the forefront of a blank field. stunning. perhaps a hundred years old. perhaps more. its silhouette against the sky so intense, strikingly gnarly in a good way.

we have such an appreciation for these lands of space through which we hike. we have hiked out east, down south, out west, up north. we’ve hiked in county parks, state parks, national parks. we dream of thru-hiking one day on one of the national trails. we hold these places in high regard, grateful for the glorious beauty, the potential for peacefulness, the celebration of the wild.

and so our conversation of late and of that night – of course – is also about the threat to these places (in addition to all the other gnarly-extremely-twisted corrupt threats of the administration too long to list or even grok in any conscience-based way.) we talked about our new forest preserve hike and we talked about national parks. and it feels sickening inside to think of the decimation of any of this. and all for the wealth of the wealthiest.

in the middle of our rummikub game – me…stuck with gnarly chips – a double of black 13s and a double of 1s and the grasp of the plastic trophy seeming bleak – and in the middle of the accompanying punctuations of news-chaos-of-the-day conversation – it suddenly came to mind, rose to the top.

the song ooh child was written about times of strife.

i started singing.

and hoping.

that some day we – this broken country – will put it together and get it undone. and then we’ll walk in the rays of a beautiful sun – when the world is much brighter.

they rolled their eyes, poking fun at the records spinning in my brain. and, for a few minutes, we all laughed.

and then the lyrics sank in…

…sigh.

*****

read DAVID’s thoughts this K.S. FRIDAY

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

even from inside we could hear the tweeting.

i went out the back door and walked around to the front to see what was happening.

the house sparrows were building a nest above our front door, tucked carefully into the architectural elements of trim.

now, we love our birds. we take comfort in hearing them early-early in the morning. we watch them out the window on the wires above our driveway. we watch them out back at the feeder and the birdbath.

their constancy is balm for our spirits.

and in these times, there is nothing we need more.

*****

read DAVID’s thoughts this TWO ARTISTS TUESDAY

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shivers. [kerri’s blog on merely-a-thought monday]

when the twenty-one gun salute echoed in the muggy florida air, i had the shivers. my sweet poppo was gone and nothing would ever be the same.

we were at the national cemetery in bushnell, gathered under a portico, torrential rain on and off. my sweet momma was both heartbroken and stalwart. we all lingered before it was time to drive back and celebrate my dad’s life. it is just a month and a half shy of thirteen years ago.

the pride that i felt – with patriot guard riders leading our way to this honorable cemetery – was something i recognized. it came from a feeling of stability, living in a relatively steady democracy and honoring this man – my dad – who had valiantly fought for that very premise – democracy over fascism, the populace over authoritarianism. barack obama was president and i did not read the news every single day expecting chaos to reign or nationwide or global disaster to be absolutely imminent. i rested assured that the people elected were intelligent, honest, respectful, compassionately decent people of the utmost integrity who had others around them with the same virtuous qualities. i was not panicking. my daddy had died and i could be totally present with his sending-off and present in my grief, the grief i shared with my family. i assumed that – alongside any desire i might have to be involved in day-to-day politics – i could also sit back and trust that – as a citizen – i was being represented by someone who had a moral compass.

i thought that would just be there – always – the strength, freedom, courage, the ideals of liberty and the unity of the states of this country. i believed that the spirit of this nation – the immortality of it as depicted by the american bald eagle – would always prevail.

fast forward.

2025.

now – more than ever – i see that tomorrow’s sky is not just there. we are fearful of losing it all…every last bit of this country’s democracy.

the soaring eagle that dipped and swooped over us on the trail – time and again – gave me the shivers just like the twenty-one gun salute did. i hoped it was some sort of positive sign from the universe, maybe even from my dad.

my sweet poppo is weeping somewhere, knowing that his sacrifices – his time as a world war II airman and as a prisoner of war, his injuries, his post-traumatic trauma – may not endure this time in our nation. it crushes me to think of his utter disillusioned disappointment.

and then I hear him, “do you think the rain’ll hurt the rhubarb?”

“not if we all fight back, poppo.” i reply.

*****

read DAVID’s thoughts this MERELY-A-THOUGHT MONDAY

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light-blue and blonde. [kerri’s blog on d.r. thursday]

somewhere around 1984 or 1986 or so i totally splurged on a dress. it had a background of light blue with puffed-up shoulders that narrowed along my forearm to my wrist, like a juliet sleeve. the bodice was fitted and the dress was knee-ish length. it was a pricey $35 and i wore it only “for good”.

i’m pretty amazed thinking about that treasured dress because i am not really a light-blue person. now, i love light-blue sky and light-blue robin’s eggs and light-blue forget-me-nots and the lightish-blue denim jacket that was my poppo’s, but light-blue in general is not a color i wear.

were i to wear it, however, i would have the tones of this photograph…reeds and sky on an early spring day.

i could have stood and stared at the reeds for a long time. as it was, i did stand and stare at them for quite a while, lost in the ballet that was driven by the wind.

and in those moments, i never once thought about what is happening in the world right now, the chaos and destruction. instead, i was dancing with the reeds, immersed in light blue sky and blonde plumes.

at this point, we are finding it necessary to try and escape our thinking minds. overwrought with angst is not a good way to spend time. so we step out of time and hike or cook or write or give belly-bellies to our dogga. we dream of places to go and trips to take and projects to embark upon. we continue to sort and clean out, donate and toss. we don’t – we can’t – spend every single waking moment trying to solve something that we – alone – cannot solve.

somewhere along the line i gave away that light-blue-puffy-shouldered dress. i wonder if someone cut it up for a quilt, much like i will do with a little-house-on-the-prairie type dress i remember absolutely loving in 1982 and which i found in the dress-up-and-pretend bin downstairs. that dress had big layered ruffles – which apparently are back in style. as a person who is now somehow always peripheral to trending fashion, it’s surprising to see flouncy ruffles out and about.

the dirt trail, dancing reeds and unlimited sky don’t seem to care what i wear. their light-blue and blonde gift is not simply lack of apparel-judgment or vogue-couture-wincing.

their gift is what they offer to us in presence. engaged in the ballet, the dress-memories, the air around me, i learn – once again – to stand still in the center of the moment.

and for that i am grateful.

*****

read DAVID’s thoughts this D.R. THURSDAY

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

it had been two years. two years plus since we last hiked there. after the woods added a high ropes/adventure course we were less inclined to go there, less eager to go hike its trails. the tranquil quiet was interrupted with the sounds of groups on the contrived course, the echoes of planned adventure bouncing off ancient trees and the forest floor.

but the other day – on a blue-sky-slightly-warmer-less-windy day – we decided to go back. because it is still merely early-spring, the course wasn’t yet open, though the staff was there training. one of the guys – suspended in a harness on lines high above us – called down to us, telling us how happy he was to spend the day in the woods.

we set out on our trail, a bit eager to see how things might have changed, how the familiar might be a bit less familiar after so many seasons had passed.

seeing this much-trod-in-the-past place was sheer joy. there is something about knowing the bend in the path, something about knowing where the tiny ponds are tucked in the woods, something about knowing certain trees and where the green glow might be starting.

we took our news-weary eyes and placed them – instead – on the roots crossing the trail, on the rise and fall of our breathing. we focused on spring arriving in the woods in this place where we have spent so much time.

we were – gloriously – nowhere else for a couple hours.

“and into the forest i go, to lose my mind and find my soul.” (john muir)

*****

read DAVID’s thoughts this K.S. FRIDAY

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what will happen? [kerri’s blog on k.s. friday]

“sometimes hope is a radical act, sometimes a quietly merciful response, sometimes a second wind, or just an increased awareness of goodness and beauty.” (anne lamott)

he burst back in the front door exclaiming, “you have to go see!!”

for good reason.

the day lilies had poked through the leaves and dried stalks and, in the middle of all that brown – tucked up against the old brick wall – there was green.

the brick wall holds the warmth of the southern sun. nestled in that garden, the day lilies – an ordinary plant with nothing froufrou about it – were encouraged and nurtured. and so, even in the cold temperatures and the occasional snow flurry, the day lilies responded. gleefully. and their rising out of the dirt, their bright green of newness, gave me – us – hope. spring is here.

it would seem that people are not much different. there is a spring for ordinary people – with nothing froufrou about them – who are encouraged and nurtured. there is hope.

this country – filled with ordinary folks – has generally prided itself – congratulated itself – on its stance on human rights, on altruism, on its generosity of safety net programs. the melting pot that is the populace has been supported by a democracy that upholds humane values of fairness, equity, legality, goodness, kindness.

but it appears now we have been congratulating ourselves on something that was ticking its way out of existence, being usurped by intense greed and corruption, shallow conscience and deep-seated hatred. this source of our national pride is disintegrating right in front of us – being poisoned and stifled and ripped to shreds – and now it seems demolition is seconds away.

and there is nothing that the sun, the warm bricks, the insulating dry leaves and brush can do.

what will happen to the day lilies?

“hope begins in the dark, the stubborn hope that if you just show up and try to do the right thing, the dawn will come. you wait and watch and work. you don’t give up.” (anne lamott)

*****

WATERSHED © 2004 kerri sherwood

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trifecta. [kerri’s blog on d.r. thursday]

it’s still there. at the bottom of the deck steps – stepping onto the patio – it is still there.

i don’t know where it came from, but suddenly this white heart appeared. it was at the end of a week when i really-really needed a heart to appear.

it is snowing right now as we work to write blogposts ahead. snowing! i honestly cannot think of anything i would like more at this moment.

tucked under a quilt, gazing out the window, the snow’s quiet is extraordinary. like after yesterday’s intense wind we just needed the blissful silence of a soft snowfall. it is calming my heart. the little vibration in my chest i can feel sometimes is absent. i know that any accumulation of this snowfall will be gone in a day or so – as the temperatures are expected to warm up – but for right now, it’s perfect.

while sorting through and cleaning out file cabinets and the attic upstairs i stumbled upon the binder of music i used for two of my recordings – let me take you back volume 1 and 2. they are both solo piano recordings of songs from the 60s and 70s. i put it aside, surprised to find it – particularly in that drawer – but continuing to work on the reorganization/purge.

but later – when it was time to go back downstairs i brought it right into my studio. i called d, flipped the binder open and started to play snippets of well-loved songs from our teens and twenties. i have this feeling that we could spend hours going through those songs, singing, reminiscing. and we might just do that. it was a balm to actually play – play!! – it’s been sooo long!! – and thinking of us singing along together makes me happy. maybe it’s a good snow day thing to do.

i will eventually bring the white heart inside. it will go with other heart rocks we have – or – maybe – it might go into my studio.

it is like a trifecta of goodness – the white heart, the snow, the binder.

i won’t question any of it. maybe divine intervention is just that way.

*****

read DAVID’s thoughts this D.R. THURSDAY

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in like a lion. [kerri’s blog on flawed wednesday]

it was a stunner of a day. brilliant sun, azure blue sky, wisps of clouds, hardly anyone else on the trail. we were in heaven. we needed to be outside, to go move, to see the beautiful river trail coming to life. they were easy miles to hike – we had to stop ourselves and turn around or we would have gone way too far.

the wind just arrived. just now. like a switch, it went from stillness outside to the swirling of wind, the noise of wind, the worry of wind. writing this ahead, it is saturday and extreme weather has and is taking its toll on the country. we have had a wind advisory and wind warnings now for days. we have been alerted.

i laid awake last night for hours. the rain and wind woke me up, but the state of things kept me up. the trees falling are only one of many things on the current angst-list.

i know that it is important to keep things in somewhat of a balance – to shimmy over to the side of seeing beauty, feeling peace, being present, particularly during these obscenely chaotic times here. but the things that are happening to this country are real – they are actually happening, and, as a citizen of this country, i wonder where it is that there may be an outer limit. my fear – one of the nightmonsters – is that there is no outer limit. cruelty knows no bounds and as noam chomsky is quoted, “…evil doesn’t even begin to approach it.”

if it gets too windy as we write we will move into another room, for right behind our pillows is a very tall pine and my imagination is working overtime. i can feel the vibration in my chest vibrating, so i know that i am on alert. this is an all-too-familiar feeling these days. we are all often in fight or flight mode now, it seems. acute stress.

the day after this day of brilliantness we had another hike, though shorter. we sat on the deck and soaked up the warmth, sipped wine, talked about inane topics that kept us strayed away from current events. we had a couple other days of early spring weather before the in-like-a-lion kicked in. i’ve always been heartened by the out-like-a-lamb and, each year, pretty much depend on it…full-fledged counting on this idiom.

i wish the same were true for the state of our nation. that even though march – less than two months into this corruption – came in like a lion – it would go out like a lamb.

but you can’t count on folklore for the weather or politics. both are chaotic and neither is haphazard. one is natural, and is a result of the interactions of scientific systems; the other is deliberately machinated, a result of amoral strategy and self-serving intention.

one has the potential to be a lamb. the other is just aggressive, with high kill rates.

in researching it is curious to me to read – now that we are talking about aggressive creatures – that the deadliest creature on earth is the mosquito. i’m guessing that many people are not aware of this and, to them, sans any research or factoids, the mosquito is merely a noisy nuisance. in reality, the mosquito – as a creature – poses the most mortal threat to humans.

sounds like this new administration. and i’d venture the same guess – that many people – particularly those who – with fox-jacked-up anger – threw their votes onto the dysfunctional red bandwagon – sans any research or factoids – are not aware and, to them, the noise is just that – noise.

the wind is picking up outside.

soon now, i will move into the next room.

because a real threat is a real threat.

*****

read DAVID’s thoughts this FLAWED WEDNESDAY

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goldening steps. [kerri’s blog on k.s. friday]

the tree lit up as the sun began to sink. oranges, reds, it was golden, the moon next to it, hanging out in the late just-sprang-forward afternoon sky.

we were sitting on the deck in our adirondack chairs – on an unexpected beautiful, warm day. it was the first time we sat outside in the sun since november.

on the same day, we took a hike in the woods, our spirits lifting with each step taken without cold wind in our faces. though we hike on very cold days with very cold winds, this was a glorious day. golden, for sure.

and nature is the only essence with which to credit this golden day. nothing else. no one else.

though the White House et al credit themselves with “the golden age of america [is here]” it is beyond delusional and a disgusting display of fealty from the capitulating folks this prez placed into powerful positions. stripping rights, freedoms, safety from the populace, putting the economy into chaos, hunting down immigrants to whisk away into oblivion, cutting helping programs that aid people so that 1% might get richer, turning our nation into a pariah no longer trusted by the world…newsflash…this is not the golden age.

we are not the elite. we are those people who wish to collect social security, who wish to have healthcare through medicare or the affordable care act, who wish to afford groceries and housing, utilities and upkeep, who wish to have income-based repayment plans for the criminally predatory decades-long student loans that have been reigning our finances, who wish to have economic stability, who wish to travel without fear of stigma, who wish to live in a country with principles based on equality and compassion, who wish our gay adult son and our childbearingyears daughter to have rights and freedoms for their own decision-making about their relationships, their health, their bodies, any children they may or may not choose to have. i’ve said it before – we are the masses. we feel this.

but, just as the moment when an olympic athlete climbs atop a podium to collect a gold medal for this country and you can feel it down to your toes, we can also feel all the vile program cuts that hurt others, the deliberate and aggressive bigotry directed at others, the loss of trust, security, and safety, the absolute betrayal of members of the populace by this cruel administration. it is the darkest of times – for each of us, for this country. light is sinking lower, deep into the horizon. we are heading into the sunless rule of authoritarianism.

it is not just what affects us that affects us.

so how do we collectively influence the actual color of these days? how do we actually golden up these times – this “age” – for real? what magic wand do we wield as a people, together? what steps – pushing back – do we take – for those we love and – in the biggest and most inclusive picture of this nation and this world – for people who will never know who we are?

maybe our collective empathy and our raised voices will help. every step we take forward – speaking up, speaking out – even against the coldest of winds – is a step – a goldening step – taken for democracy.

*****

FIGHT FOR THE LIGHT FOR OTHERS – EVEN IF THEY DON’T KNOW WHO YOU ARE. (you make a difference © 2003 kerri sherwood)

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read DAVID’s thoughts this K.S. FRIDAY

 

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slow-blinking with the opossum. [kerri’s blog on d.r. thursday]

it seemed to trust us as we approached on the trail. this sweet opossum calmly stayed where it was even as we got closer. eventually, it ambled into the brush nearby, but, still, really close. we spoke to it in hushed tones, trying to reassure it that we meant no harm. i took a couple of photographs as it slow-blinked at me from under some grasses. it was a wonderful start to our hike, grounding us and pushing worries back.

“get outside!” kristy always ends the wander women video with this directive. she and annette have created a lifestyle of activity, of the outdoors, of community, of simple values. i’d venture a guess that we could be fast friends. they do not concern themselves with fashion or decorating trends or competition or vast material possessions. instead, their living is based on the certainty of mortality – of doing the best they can, the most they can, exploring and tapping all the goodness out of each day.

we were at REI the other day. we pored over backpacks and all-things-trail-friendly. we studied sunshirts and sleeping pads. i purchased two pairs of toe socks for hiking – my toes have issues with each other inside my hiking boots so we are hoping that these will help – in lieu of bandaids and walking funny. we are dedicated to our trails, even the local ones. tapping as much goodness out of each day seems a good plan, particularly in light of all the uncertainty that surrounds us.

i’m not sure how we could handle everything going on in the world if we did not get outside. even cold wind in our faces makes us feel more alive, more centered than anything else might. these days of beautiful weather have been gifts and – for a few minutes here or there – have helped us to set aside our worries and angst about the direction of this country.

i happen to know – really – that the sweet opossum did not have the same fixation on the state of the nation. it merely had basic needs to be met…safety being one of the most basic.

i suppose we are much like this critter. from somewhere high above – looking down at us – we probably look much the same. cautiously watching as others approach, trying to discern whether or not they are safe or if they pose a threat. retreating to the underbrush, slow-blinking at the intruders – still trying to discern their intent, whether or not they will interact.

it sounds a lot like going to the grocery store these days.

*****

read DAVID’s thoughts this D.R. THURSDAY

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