reverse threading

the path back is the path forward

Tag Archives: live


by 1 Comment

that which to hold close. [kerri’s blog on merely-a-thought monday]

“life is strange. you arrive with nothing, spend your whole life chasing everything, and still leave with nothing. make sure your soul gains more than your hands.” (no attribution)

it’s happening.

we can feel it.

i stood in his shop’s driveway talking to our beloved mechanic. “a simple life,” we agreed. we just want to live a simple life. not a life lived for or gauged on the stuff we have.

because that stuff – the stuff of life – inundates us. everywhere we look people are chasing it – a materialism that just never culminates in any moment where it is “enough”.

and in these unbelievably fraught times, stuff seems even less important than it ever did.

one of my best friends from high school sent me a bunch of texts early this past week. we were out on a trail, trying to soak up sun and hold at bay the yucky cold symptoms we were experiencing. suddenly, there were multiple notifications. he had become a first-time grandpa.

i stopped short on the trail and looked at the photographs of the baby girl just born into this world. i was overwhelmed by the sheer miracle of that and the miracle that this man and i had been friends for over fifty years (despite seeing each other only once in all that time since high school) and – back then – it would have been hard to imagine the moment i was experiencing: standing on a trail in a completely different state five decades later while he shared the moment of his entry into grandparenthood. truly a remarkable gift.

there were other moments this week, moments when i felt more connected to the world: talking with the woman with the jeep in the parking lot at the market when we went to pick up more advil, the frog that suddenly showed up in our pond, the jalapeños we grew that were ready for picking, a note from a dear friend to “stay strong”. we virtual-tracked our daughter running an incredible half-marathon in the mountains and we listened to our son’s music online. friends checked in to ask if we needed anything. the other side of the spectrum from feeling appalled by the world.

soon it will be time to resume the cleaning out. i told our mechanic about the sentimental person’s guide to decluttering book i had purchased (hoping for osmosis to make it stick) and another title i had seen: “nobody wants your sh*t“, which we both found infinitely funny. and true. because it is. true, that is.

i remember when my sweet momma – in acts of generosity and kindness – began to give away possessions. she knew. she knew how little all that stuff really mattered. and, in these quieter moments of getting a bit older, i – we – can see that, even more than before. especially in these times.

it would seem that dropping the shopping bags and the trappings of the ladder are thresholds into the gains of one’s soul, into the real stuff of life – because, as my poppo used to say about the other stuff, “you can’t take it with you.“

and it would seem that – instead of the receipts of chasing and chasing – the buddhist prayer is that which to hold close:

“may you be happy. may you be at peace. may you be free of danger. may you be loved.”

*****

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

like. subscribe. share. support. comment. – thank you. xoxo

buymeacoffee is a website where you may directly support an artist whose work directly impacts you.


by 1 Comment

pinball or life. [kerri’s blog on merely-a-thought monday]

“the now is all we have.” (sue aikens)

it feels like we have been barreling through time and space – bouncing off broadcasts and pundits, headlines and breaking news – as if in a virtual pinball machine – not too much control but a lot of noise.

we have decided to get off the ride. as a person who is easily motion-sicknessed, i am weary of the political nausea, the tiltawhirl of these times, the roller coaster of insanity, the cauldron where people have tossed their morality. it’s time to step to the side and not watch every single ball hit every single paddle, bounce off every single bumper and slide down every single ramp while ineptly working the flippers.

because, really, sue aikens is right. the now IS all we have.

it’s time to slow down and just live.

the author wrote, “…i’m no longer under the impression that i can outrun the 77-million-person mob that voted in favor of racism, misogyny, violence and corruption…” (lisa bernardi)

and i agree. i can’t either. but that doesn’t mean that i have to participate with them, hang out with them, trust them. and that, frankly, is pretty heartbreaking. but it is also time-and-space-perspective-arranging.

if, indeed, the now is all we have – which i think is true – then we need attend to the fleeting things that are life-giving, that are generative, that are intentions of kindness, that give us peace.

we need to make the best plans we can, all the while knowing that they may be dashed.

we need to be with those who share our values, who wish for an earth, a country, a state, a community, a family that leads with goodness.

and we need to find ways to linger in every single thing that feeds our souls.

i’ve never liked pinball anyway.

*****

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

like. subscribe. share. support. comment. – thank you. xoxo

buymeacoffee is a website where you may directly impact an artist whose work directly impacts you. xoxo


by Leave a comment

stunning, after all. [kerri’s blog on not-so-flawed wednesday]

the first. these are the first peppers we have ever grown and we are sort of stunned by them. because they are really real-live peppers!!

when we purchased the plants, they were on clearance at lowe’s. we bought our basil and parsley plants there and, as we wandered around – a tiny bit late in the early summer planting season – a few pepper plants spoke to us. on our potting stand are three pepper pots – a jalapeño, a red chili and this snack red pepper. because we are budget-conscious, we worried about the cost of failing. but, in the end, we thought it was worth the risk…this first attempt at pepper-growing. plus it helped that there were a few buds on the plants by the time we purchased them; it made us think that maybe we stood at least a chance of being successful.

and now…here we are. there are two jalapeños and multiple red snack peppers ready to be harvested and we are truly stunned. the red snacks and a jalapeño will become part of a meal we will share with 20 – stars in our fajitas. it will be a proud moment for us and we’ll be grateful for the amazement of growing our own food, just like we were with the batches of pesto (red and genovese) we made and froze last week.

we spent monday at the chicago botanic garden this week. each time we visit we are wowed by a different spot in the garden, a different grouping, a different extraordinary flower, beauty after beauty. david remarked about how much he loved the english walled garden. he said that if he were to build and plant a garden today he would plant a walled garden. i laughed and pointed out that our backyard is kind of like a walled garden. we don’t have the same level of order or discipline in our garden – for, along with our pond, there are ornamental grasses and peonies, ferns, day lilies and hosta planted slightly more haphazardly, but it is mostly walled in by the back and side fence, the garage serving as a perimeter. there is a privacy afforded, a quietness.

we sit at our bistro table or in our infamous adirondack chairs and watch our birds and squirrels and chippies. we share time and space and life with our dogga. and our barnwood potting stand – adjacent to the deck and the patio – is a place of tiny miracles.

we could have shied away from trying peppers, even at their discounted price. we could have worried that we would not bring them to fruition, that we would not be successful pepper-planters.

instead, we tried something new.

and these gloriously red peppers in tomorrow’s fajitas will remind us – once again – that life is there for the trying. it is not in the certainty of succeeding that we live. it is in risking. it is in anticipation. it is in mystery. it’s all really quite stunning, after all.

*****

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

like. subscribe. share. support. comment. – thank you. xoxo

buymeacoffee is a tip-jar website where you may directly impact the continuing creating of artists whose work is important to you.


by 1 Comment

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

sprinkles. squared.

we ordered fried rice and eggrolls the same day i blogged about joy sprinkles. it doesn’t take much to get us enthused and fried rice and eggrolls do it. because we don’t eat out often, it is always a treat to have something someone else has prepared and this dinner is no different.

we only got one fortune cookie in our brown stapled bag of deliciousness; our order must be considered a small order. we saved it for later.

i got to be the one to crack it open.

“sprinkles of joy will shower upon you in unexpected ways.”

it was one of those stunning moments in the universe when all comes to a screeching halt and you realize it is – indeed – all connected. just when you felt a little bit untethered, a little unsteady, the universe shows up with an anchor.

and here it was. simply the words “sprinkles of joy”.

i texted heidi – forever my keeper of the word “sprinkles” – and we laughed to realize we had juuust spoken these very words, that i had just written them. unexpected, for sure. it was like the universe had its own personal siri listening in – like when you talk about mumbai – never touching your computer or phone or any device – and then it shows up on your facebook feed or in your instagram. here it was – the universe echoing back to me the words “sprinkles” and “joy”.

we walked past the cemetery at the end of our road on the way back from the corner store. it was sunny saturday and, having spent the day doing chores inside and outside around the house, we were going to sit out back on the patio with dogga, sip a glass of wine and eat – yes – chips. we haven’t had chips in a week and thought, “eh…what’s a few chips?!!” it was with chip-guilt in a plastic bag walking home – as we strolled past the cemetery – that d looked over at me.

“i’m glad the cemetery is at the end of our block,” he said. “it reminds me that these people all had lives, too,” going on to talk about perspective, stuff that matters and stuff that doesn’t matter, the passage of time, the not-knowing.

every moment is one in which to create joy. for oneself. for others. together. to be showered by sprinkles of joy. in unexpected ways.

i proudly carried our bag of chips the rest of the way home.

*****

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

like. subscribe. share. support. comment. ~ thank you. xoxo

buymeacoffee is a website tip-jar where you may choose to help support the continuing creating of artists whose work touches you. ♡


by Leave a comment

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

there is this corner in our lakefront neighborhood. we take walks around the ‘hood, looking forward to this particular spot.

in the middle of every other nod to autumn, this corner glows. the maples there are in soft focus – all golden and pink. it is like seeing through a filter, stepping under a fresnel spot with a lighting gel. we make room to stop and take it in…each and every time we pass by.

some things are like that. we know them well and, yet, we anticipate them, knowing how they make us feel, knowing that we will be better for them. these trees.

there are spots on our favorite trails like this…when we enter the pine stands or when the trail curves through the forest…when we walk high above the river below us…when we turn into the afternoon sun with the meadow to our right. there is a spot as we come out of the tunnel on the highway and i can see the high rockies stretching out in front of us. there is a spot on the ditch trail in aspen – at the end – deep in the woods where there are rocks you can sit on as the stream breaks around you. there is a fallen log in breckenridge, up a ways on the path, next to the brook. there is another higher, in the meadow that opens to the sky.

someday, i will go stand again where my daughter and i stood, in canyonlands, and i will satisfy the anticipation of being there – in that spot of unspeakable emotion – once again.

someday, i will go stand on crab meadow beach again and – with anticipation and all-that-has-been-since washing over me – maybe i will feel what i used to feel there, way way earlier, the freedom of being, the anticipation of future.

the knowing of these places doesn’t take them off the list of places-to-go. rather, it’s the sheer knowing that keeps them on the list. it’s the recognition, the familiarity, the unbridled comfort.

as we turn the corner and look ahead, we can see the trees down at the next intersection. so much beauty. we both look forward to getting closer.

we are not on a luxurious vacation nor are we rambling much away from our careful budget. we are recognizing the we-are-here-ness and that is what we have right now – we have right now. if we can remember to anticipate each moment this way, we will truly be living.

and then, there is the feeling when we see our driveway, when we walk in the door. the spotlight pulls back and bathes our home in gratitude.

*****

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

like. subscribe. share. support. comment. ~ thank you so much. xoxo

buymeacoffee is a website where you may offer help to artists you love so that they may continue creating the work you value. thank you for your consideration. xoxo


by 1 Comment

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

“…and i got saved by the beauty of the world.” (mary oliver)

there are the tiniest of moments – like this one – when everything harsh, everything wrought, everything dark or full of angst, everything of challenge just falls away. like the universe took a feather duster to the worries stoked up on your shoulders and reminded you. to breathe. to feel the realness of the moment. to be hyper-vigilant of all senses. to be in it.

it could just as easily slipped by, unnoticed. the fresh air, rich colors, the sun filtered through layers of pine, the scent of a humid summer day, the gravel path. it could have been lost.

but i am grateful to have stopped. i am grateful any time i remember to stop. to have perspective. to grasp onto the tiniests. to allow myself to be saved by the beauty of the world.

*****

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

like. subscribe. share. support. comment. ~ thank you so much. xoxo

buymeacoffee is a donation “tip jar” site where you may support the continued work of artists you value. thank you for your consideration. xoxo


by 1 Comment

howard and mary. [merely-a-thought monday]

“1. i don’t spend my days retired. 2. i don’t let myself get out of shape. 3. i don’t smoke. 4. i don’t restrict myself. 5. i don’t let my knowledge go to waste.” (dr. howard tucker – “at 100 years old”)

he’s a centenarian, so it would seem like his words would have some clout. his rules – so simple. and #5!! still a practicing physician, he is pragmatic and dedicated, believes in moderation, enjoys broccoli and brussels sprouts and sharing wisdom gleaned in the decades of his work. the passing of knowledge back and forth – to the younger workers in his field and back to him – he emphasizes acknowledging the importance of the gathering together of experience, education, hard work. he sounds like a delightful person.

we sat next to mary on a thursday afternoon at the milwaukee public market. on a stool at the bar of the st. paul fish market booth, we sipped wine and ate shrimp gumbo. mary pulled up a stool, ordered a beer and some oysters. i was transported back home – to long island – where fresh seafood abounds and i’ve sat on plenty a bar stool eating clams-on-the-halfshell or baked clams or lobster bisque.

mary whispered that she was celebrating her birthday that day – 74. we started to sing to her and she hushed us. we finished in low tones for it seemed that we might be her only sung song that day.

in the brief period of time – maybe an hour or so – that we sat next to mary, we learned plenty. she was engaged.in.life. she was a little bit raucous, a little bit edgy, a-lot-a-bit delightful. we talked about oysters and beer and irish men, ireland and nova scotia and downtown milwaukee, volunteering and learning and olive oil and balsamic vinegar. she talked about work; she talked about how important previous and long experience is for employers. ahhh, if they could all hear mary’s sage words. and she shared a sea bass recipe we forgot to write down. i suspect she and howard would be friends, had they a chance to meet.

in the meanwhile, i keep wanting to go back to the market on a thursday, pull up the stools we had at the end of the bar and wait for mary.

*****

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

buymeacoffee.com if you would like to support our writingwritingwriting


by 1 Comment

a good day for some cake. [merely-a-thought monday]

“stay young by continuing to grow. you do not grow old, you become old by not growing.” (wilferd a. peterson – the art of living)

we would like to be like frank. he will be 90 this month and his busy life could make many people feel like couch potatoes. he is interested and curious and makes himself available to volunteer for a wide variety of organizations. he is our go-to excuse for sipping apothic – “it’s such a drinkable wine,” he says. he’s not afraid to try new things. the art of staying young – he has this down pat.

today is eileen’s birthday. she is 100. one hundred. it’s quite the life you’ve lived when you were born in 1923 and it is now 2023. always interested, she loves the chicago tribune. her desk has stacks of issues, piles of stories she has read or, at this stage of health, it counts to even just simply touch the newsprint. 20 talks to her about current events, encourages her to think, to discern, to learn – even at 100.

we celebrated her birthday with butter-creme-heavily-frosted layered chocolate birthday cake, hyacinth and tulips, catered sliders and quesadillas and apothic. frank would have approved. we studied boards with photographs of a little girl named eileen, eileen and duke as young marrieds, the sassy and spirited and fashionista eileen, a mother named eileen, a grandmother. i’m certain it seems to her now that the 100 years have flown by, for indeed that’s how time is. as she was wheeled into the party room her words were boisterous, “i made it!”

my own sweet momma would be 102 this year and my dad 103. my dad always said he was going to be 100. he did not make it. he died when he was 91. my mom never stated those aspirations but she, as well, was not a centenarian, crossing planes at almost-94. my dad, never one to turn down any dessert would have devoured a big slice of eileen’s cake. and my mom would have sat at the table with eileen asking questions and telling stories. i wish we were also having their cakes, most definitely chocolate ganache, but soon now those crossing-over anniversaries will come again and i will burn candles and blow kisses into the universe.

it’s all a mystery, this life. how long we get to live it, how many desserts, how many sips of toasting wine. seems like – once again – there’s no time to waste.

maybe today is a good day for some cake.

“tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?” (mary oliver)

*****

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


by 1 Comment

not “eh”. [d.r. thursday]

the little girl squealed. at full tilt – for a toddler – she ran toward the dome calling out to anyone listening, “i get to go inside!!!”

i daresay that there was not an adult present who was not invigorated by her unbridled enthusiasm, by what she saw so many of us may have forgotten. through her child’s eyes.

“you turn the pages back for me…to the way i used to be…./and now my darkest night is coming to an end, since i began to see through a child’s eyes…again.” (lowen and navarro – through a child’s eyes)

we all picked up the the pace, heading to the starry dome. a mass of people practically careening down the path to join in the lighted dome, under the light display and inside the music.

“you don’t go outside and see a starry night and say, ‘eh,'” anne said. “you say, ‘wow!'” (diane mina weltman – “an evening with anne lamott”)

“eh” was not part of this night. this extraordinary display in the garden – this amazing constellation above our heads as we stood in the dome with the jumping-bean-little-girl – was not “eh”.

and, in rare moments when you can feel the threads connecting you to the earth and all that is in it – the big, the little, the massive, the tiny – those moments you can touch the gossamer, the incandescent, the enduring, the evanescent – you – really – realize that none of it is “eh”, none of it is “same-old-same-old”, none of it should actually require any less enthusiasm than a toddler at full tilt.

*****

read DAVID’s thoughts this D.R. THURSDAY

CHICAGO BOTANIC GARDEN LIGHTSCAPE 2022
CHASING BUBBLES – david robinson


by 1 Comment

spirograph on deck. [saturday morning smack-dab.]

we are surrounded by people with grandchildren. there are tiny babies, toddlers, pre-teens, teenagers. we are ‘of the age’. it would seem that each and every day there is yet another announcement on social media of a new grandbaby-to-be, a gender reveal party, a baby shower, a birth of a tiny being into this great big world. my biological grandma clock is pokin’ at me, but, alas, this is not within my control. at all. these are important and very personal decisions; each of us has to decide what is individually right for us. and so, we’ll see. no matter our age, we celebrate our children living their lives.

and so, we watch others as they enter the glee-filled world of grandparenthood. they amass toys and sleeping provisions and high chair options and read books about the newfangled ways small babies learn to eat food and they post adorable videos of all the extraordinarily ordinary moments we – as parents – didn’t have time to notice. they go to the closet in the hallway or in the family room and gaze up at the tinkertoys and legos and trouble game and candyland and the saved baby dolls and barbie dolls and matchbox cars and crayons and stickers and markers and coloring books and they get dreamy looks on their faces as they ponder all these – once again – in their lives. ahh. what perfection.

we have all that stuff too. it’s mostly in the hall closet, where we’ve always kept it. games and puzzles and crafty things and bebop and a jumprope and jacks and egg coloring kits and pumpkin carving tools and those squishy balls you get all soaky wet to throw and frisbees. all the crayons and colored pencils and markers and glue are upstairs in the cabinet in the office. and stickers. lots of stickers.

there is really no reason we can’t just revisit all that stuff now anyway. i mean, if we are going to practice snack-time, we can spirograph first.

he is such a boy. SUCH a boy. any – and i mean ANY – time i ask him if he’s hungry, he always replies with an emphatic “yes!” like he’s been starving for days and days. snack-time is a driving force, a dominant priority, something he has already perfected. but, hmmm….yes, a carrot easily dangle-able.

i’m guessing spirograph is in our future.

happy mother’s day.

*****

read DAVID’S thoughts this SATURDAY MORNING

SMACK-DAB. ©️ 2022 kerrianddavid.com