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the path back is the path forward

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we are two chickadees. [kerri’s blog on k.s. friday]

last year a black-capped chickadee returned over and over to this old barnwood birdhouse on our tree. each time it balanced on the the hole and pecked at the edges all around the entrance to the house. we wondered if – perhaps – it was not quite big enough for this bird and its intentions to build a nest. it worked at it – diligently – finessing the birdhouse as it could, enlarging the entrance and pecking off the sharp edges. but it did not end up nesting there.

this year two black-capped chickadees return over and over to this birdhouse on our tree. this year they carry in supplies – long strands of ornamental grasses, bits of branches and leaves. we believe that – this year – there is a nest inside this birdhouse. we hope we are right, for the idea of baby birds just off the patio – in this sweet birdhouse – makes us a little bit giddy. together these chickadees have made a home, taking turns with the chores of preparation and standing vigil, keeping it all safe from harm. we stay hopeful that there will be babies and that this sweet bird-family will endure all the hardships of nature and the passing of time.

yesterday was the 43rd anniversary of my (first) wedding.

i think back to the preparations and nesting through the years, as we worked together – successfully and not – as a couple and then as parents of two beloved children. like the chickadees, we had no guarantees – we just worked at it, best we could.

i look back – as we all might do – and see the moments in time we might have done better, might have made different choices, might have pecked at the edges of the entrance to our house instead of other things we did – things that would have finessed our home in lieu of harming it in some way or another. but we are human and our failings are as numerous as our triumphs. it is easier now – years later – to offer generous grace to our best attempts, despite how it all turned out. our two children are good people in the world – making their way in work, in their own passions, in love.

i am grateful for those years. i am grateful to have married a man back then who also tried his best to build a life together. as in any relationship, we brought different baggage with us – some of which was surmountable, some of which made life challenging. we started out pretty young. time has smoothed out the edges – pecking off the sharp parts – and what remains is softer, gentler, accepting. it is with deep affection that i now tell the tales of our thirty years together.

d and i met twelve years ago now – after six months of being daily email penpals. this year will celebrate the 10th anniversary of our wedding on a warm and sunny october day.

we have done our share of edge-pecking. we have finessed our home and stood vigil for each other. we have shared in the hardships of nature and the passing of time – for that – the passing of time – seems exponentially fast starting later in life. we have been fortunate and we work at it, best we can.

i am grateful for these years. i am grateful to have married a man who is also trying his best to build a life together. as in any relationship, we brought different baggage with us – some of which has been surmountable, some of which made or makes life challenging. we started out later in middle age. but time smooths out the edges – pecking off the sharp parts – and what remains is softer, gentler, accepting. it is with deep affection that i tell the tales of our life together. it is with humble and immense gratitude that i look into the future with him.

there is no telling what chickadees may do in life. but they seem to realize the very preciousness of it as they zealously prepare and tend their life together with another chickadee. sometimes they stay with the same mate all their lives. and sometimes they don’t. either way, chickadees have strong pair bonds – which is the very best we can all do for each other.

*****

GRATEFUL © 2004 kerri sherwood

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

“my process is different than his,” she said. i had to laugh. yes…yes…that is the truth.

the getting-ready-to-leave process is most definitely different man-to-woman, at least in my experience and the experience of my dear girlfriend.

they-who-shall-remain-nameless are ready to go. they’ve chosen their shoes, their coat, their hat if it is cold, their gloves, their scarves or neck gaiter or buff – whatever – and they are ready. meanwhile, we-the-other-person-in-the-equation are doing just-one-more-thing, turning off lights, turning on lights, closing the blinds, opening the blinds, filling the dogdish with water, getting tissues for our pocket or purse, grabbing a water bottle and a larabar justincase, as well as sorting through shoes and hats, scarves and gloves or mittens, choosing between a purse or a backpack. the decisions are not as – er – straightforward nor as quickly quick, particularly if we are multi-tasking…not to mention that we are proud putterers. but – at least here – and i know there, too – we eventually meet at the back door, kiss the dog goodbye and actually leave the house.

so “ready in the flashiest of flashes” in the department store jewelry department scene of love actually cracks me up, every single time. as the incomparable salesperson rufus fusses over gift-wrapping a necklace, the purchaser chomps at the bit to go (no plot-spoiler here) – yet rufus continues to wrap – tissue paper, a box, another bauble, yet another layer, a cellophane bag, more froufrou, eucalyptus, a cinnamon stick, another box. it is most definitely funny – “mr. bean” just being utterly charming to start with – all while the giftbuyer shifts from one foot to the other. and…in an unrelated though pertinent point, i can relate to the layered gift wrapping – i love to find ways to wrap things that might best showcase the item.

i think that d has gotten used to my unflashiest-of-flashes – yet thoroughly charming, i’m sure – exits. he usually says something like, “we’re not in a rush” or “take your time” to assuage my tendency to start feeling guilty about the everpresent one-more-thing-to-do and he also knows that being rushed makes me a tad bit cranky (“tad bit” is fluid and deliberately amorphous….) so it is definitely a self-preservation thing.

and so he is careful not to shift from one foot to the other. he is careful to not say, “ready to go??” (especially with many question marks). he is careful to find something to do – with his coat and hat and gloves and buff on – while he waits. he is careful to move in slowwwwest motion heading to the back door.

for we here – at least one of us – is not ready in the flashiest of flashes.

eh. que sera sera.

*****

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

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to share this. [kerri’s blog on d.r. thursday]

if it were possible to feel like a pine tree, this would have been the day.

in the vastness of this bryce canyonland, we stood on the edge – like this pine tree – and gazed over an incredible expanse. it was not merely beautiful. it was beyond words.

and, once again, i felt it in my heart – that wobbly feeling you get when you realize – truly realize – how utterly small you are in all of thissssss.

we celebrate our anniversary today. there is so much more to explore. there are many more adventures to be had. there are more uphills and downhills. there are more learnings and experiences and times to hold.

and there are more moments like this – where we are reminded of the tiny morsels of being that we are and the sheer gratitude for the chance to be here, to share this.

*****

read DAVID’s thoughts this D.R. THURSDAY

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

if you asked me to name one striking thing about our relationship, i would tell you that we are touchers. we hold hands, we walk arm in arm, we snuggle. there are exquisite moments like when he kisses the top of my head or unexpectedly rubs my shoulders.

this is not the stuff of the grandest passion of romance movies, but it is the stuff of grand passionate romance.

i will hold hands with this man anywhere, any time. for all time.

*****

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

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

“happiness is….happiness is….happiness is…different things to different people. that’s what happiness is.” (ray conniff)

i can’t use these glasses – gifted to us – without hearing that song. our tonic and lime makes it happen every time. I don’t fight it. i succumb to it – humming or bursting into song – at least inside my head.

nine years ago the monday of this week was the start. everyone was on their way – sometime during that week. we entertained at our old house each night – and everyone present came for dinners we prepared with an entourage of kitchen helpers. it was a barn raising in every good way.

by the time we actually got married – at the end of the week – we were pretty darn tired. but happiness? it was abundant.

every now and then there is a moment, a snag, a who-are-you-and-what-are-you-doing-here. we all have them. but, in the way of moments, they are momentary. and if i give myself space to think about the passage of time and everything that has brought us to the puny moment, to allow in perspective, i am able to process, to rejuvenate out of puny, back to happiness. ok….not an immediate bouncing-dancing-leaping-about kind of happiness, but a deep-from-within happiness that reminds me of the reason we two people joined. the support, belief and love of our families, friends, community have generously seen us through.

every now and then there is a moment, a wildly astonishing wide-eye, a heart-lifting teary eye, an i-wouldn’t-wanna-be-anywhere-else. and, in the way of moments, it is a gift, a reminder of the unlikeliness of ever having met, a gratitude for how the universe aligned two tiny stars distantly apart, a peek into the big heart – and the sense of humor – of whatever deity you wish to name. those are bouncing-dancing-leaping-about kinds of happiness moments.

each year that we celebrate another year we relive that week preceding our wedding. each year we are grateful. each year we are really aware of happiness … which begets happiness … which begets happiness.

happiness is.

thank you for being a part of us.

*****

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

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burden, mountain, river. [kerri’s blog on saturday morning smack-dab.]

classic. this is classic.

this is age-old, like an aesop’s fable, like a timeworn adage, like a proverbial proverb. there are likely even petroglyphs chiseled into rocky canyon walls telling this story for all time: for the most part (and i don’t use all-encompassing language on purpose, for always there are exceptions) packing is not the same for men as it is for women.

as much as i would love to pack light, to pack smart, to pack minimally, it is apparently not in my dna strands to do so. and so i will succumb to the challenge – every time. i will wake in the night and review my list, try on my choices. i will list and cross out and list again. i will ponder and try to imagine every scenario in which i need clothing, try to anticipate every need.

it’s exhausting.

when i traveled a lot – playing concerts and shows – i was much better at packing. i have gotten out of the habit (and into a different body, let’s not forget) and so it requires much more thought, much more ruminating, perseverating even. good grief! it’s a full-time job getting ready.

i’m pretty sure it will take him about twenty minutes to pack. que sera sera.

in the meanwhile, i’ll be over here bearing, climbing and fording my burden, mountain and river. whatever.

*****

read DAVID’s thoughts this SATURDAY MORNING

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sacred space between us. [kerri’s blog on not-so-flawed wednesday]

“…let’s live like mountains: two worlds rooted together but each cutting its own shape into the changing sky…” (james a. pearson – the space between us)

the sacred space between us.

when david proposed – over a decade ago – he gave me two rings. identical in style, they had textural differences. both sterling silver, one had a textured band with a smooth round globe and the other a smooth band with a textured round globe. he spoke words to the effect that we each brought similarities and differences into this space we would now share. to him it – our marriage – was best represented by two different rings worn together, side by side.

in the years that have gone by, i have watched these two rings become more alike – time is wearing them down, has minimized the textural differences as this sacred space between us has grown. we mountains have rooted together – like aspen trees in a forest – and, standing next to each other, though we cut our own shapes into the sky, we are becoming a mountain range.

in the way that time carves lessons and learnings into our hearts and minds, time has gifted us with the fire and flow of good relationship – both – that rubber band of intimacy that holds tight and stretches and snaps back like a bungee cord – eager to find center once again. fusion and fission, elements of the canyoned valley we share between us. we hold it gently in our joined hands.

and i wonder if the rings will become so similar that the difference in textures will be impossible to see.

what i do know – no matter how texturally identical they are or become, they started as two and carry two worlds with them. we – like all in relationship – bring different gifts with us. these gifts of the other help us evolve – they add to our sedimentary bedrock.

it is my instinct to seek words of wisdom about this space – this sacred space – between us. the union, the adapting, the transitions, the growth, the times of storm and times of calm.

but, instead, i will just watch my rings. and as they wear and change, i’ll keep renewing our roots, grounding us in center somewhere between our mountains in a meadow of wildflowers under the sun.

*****

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

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salty daisies. [kerri’s blog on k.s. friday]

in the rare moments d texts me, my phone ringtone is john denver’s annie’s song.

“you fill up my senses like a night in the forest, like a mountain in springtime, like a walk in the rain, like a storm in the desert, like a sleepy blue ocean, you fill up my senses, come fill me again.

come let me love you, let me give my life to you. let me drown in your laughter, let me die in your arms. let me lay down beside you, let me always be with you. come let me love you, come love me again…”

and in those moments – daisy moments – i am reminded, once again, of the improbability of two tiny starflecks in the universe noticing each other, of the utter impossibility of our meeting, the sheer unlikeliness of our marrying, the astounding unimaginable gift of our time together.

even in the moments when my senses are overburdened, impatient, saturated, senseless.

daisies in any form, every stage – this wildflower fleabane – are just like hearing annie’s song. because i am me, they bring tears to my eyes.

“remember,” they whisper from the meadow on the side of the trail, “just remember.”

a long, long time ago my big brother penned a calligraphy print. it says, “may there be such a oneness between you that when one weeps the other will taste salt.”

we are beyond fortunate.

and salty and grateful.

*****

read DAVID’S thoughts this K.S. FRIDAY

AND NOW ©️ 2015 kerri sherwood

GRATEFUL from AS IT IS ©️ 2004 kerri sherwood

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the path. [kerri’s blog on d.r. thursday]

“follow me where i go, what i do and who i know. make it part of you to be a part of me. follow me up and down, all the way and all around. take my hand and say you’ll follow me.”

“you see I’d like to share my life with you and show you things i’ve seen. places that i’m going to, places where i’ve been. to have you there beside me, to never be alone. and all the time that you’re with me, we will be at home…” (john denver)

the first time i saw the rockies i was 18. i was in the backseat of my mom and dad’s dodge and they took my breath away. i was changed – those mountains stayed a part of me.

so when it was that he was from there, it just seemed right. our path now includes going there fairly regularly and always a desire to be there more and more, to return and return, to linger. those mountains…it’s that john muir quote: “the mountains are calling and i must go.”

there will be a day soon he will follow me to long island. we’ll go to the regular haunts. we’ll bring sage with us and, having lost them forty-five years ago, i’ll take those places back. and he will be there. with me. our path will take us to the beach and to the harbor, maybe out on the sound, definitely past my old house. we’ve been there together before – because we have followed each other – taking turns leading the way – for over a decade now.

“…take my hand and I will follow you.“ (j.d.)

the path through the john denver sanctuary in aspen leads past boulders of lyrics. we amble our way through, choosing to be slow. we have returned here. we will return again and again.

“come dance with the west wind and touch on the mountain tops, sail o’er the canyons and up to the stars…” (j.d.)

we have danced in places noisy and places quiet. we have danced in places with music and without. we have waltzed on our deck, in our kitchen and on dusty dirt trails. we have carried the wind with us and discovered stars on the horizon we had not noticed before. the path winds and makes unexpected turns. laughing and crying turns. and we trust it together.

“you fill up my senses like a night in the forest, like the mountains in springtime, like a walk in the rain, like a storm in the desert, like a sleepy blue ocean. you fill up my senses, come fill me again.” (j.d.)

and we tell tales of the times we did not share together, the stories of before. sometimes we tell them over and over. they don’t get old. they are the pieces that made up who we met eleven years ago. two weeks after the day we first set eyes on each other, he came back – to see if it had really happened. sometimes you have to see home more than once to believe it.

“this is my autograph…here in the songs that i sing, here in my cry and my laugh, here in the love that i bring. to be always with you…and you always with me.” (j.d.)

and each path now – in the simple times and in the fancy times – we’ll hold hands or link arms, we’ll dance, we’ll lead, we’ll follow.

and the path will always bring us home.

*****

read DAVID’S thoughts this D.R. THURSDAY

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that particular day. [kerri’s blog on not-so-flawed wednesday]

it was somewhat inconspicuous. the heartrock just tucked in with the rest of them, quiet, unassuming. it knew it would be seen; it knew it would be recognized. it was not unexpected – particularly that very day.

because earlier in the day – that very day – just a tad bit earlier – right before lunch – in late morning – inconspicuously and quietly – my beloved girl married her best friend. and, as unassuming as they wished this all to be, nevertheless, there were six parents in the world who felt the shift of the earth, whose heartstrings were tugged, who held her and held him – both – closely – in these intentionally-unassuming but admittedly-profound moments. sans tulle and without a nod to anything traditional, our families connected the dots and joined together. and a new chapter started.

i would have been surprised not to stumble across the rock that day. i worked kind of hard at not leading toooo much from my heart, tried to be casual, mellowishly nonchalant even. but i’m sure i lost some laidback points that day. i was celebrating my beautiful and fiercely bold daughter, who was choosing this dearest guy with whom to spend life. it’s a big deal for a momma…if not from an event-ish place, definitely from a heart-place.

and that particular day, the heartrock was waiting for me. it was just a couple hours past the moment. we took a walk – a most exquisite stroll – slowly through the sanctuary and it nodded at me as i started to pass by, making sure i noticed, grounding me. i let out a deep breath, a few happy tears. it was a stunning day in aspen.

because that particular day was different. not the mountains, not the blue sky and brilliant sun, not the smell of pine and the early quaking aspen leaves, not the roaring fork river gurgling.

the axis had shifted a little and things were changed.

and six moms and dads were there to hold space as part of our hearts married.

*****

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

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