reverse threading

the path back is the path forward


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daisy-path-ing. [kerri’s blog on not-so-flawed wednesday]

we took off our sunhats. it was a hot day and we had been gardening for hours. the purchased plants had been potted, all the transplanting in the yard was done. it was that golden hour after all the work and before making dinner. we poured a bit of cool pinot grigio, took a tour around the yard and then settled into our adirondack chairs in the shady corner of our deck to gaze out at the yard – one of our favorite pastimes now.

the daisy path – as d has aptly named it – is slower. it doesn’t require the striding or racing around of earlier years. it is a – rather, The – sweet phase and we are trying our best to hone it. we never expect to perfect it, so we are doing everything we can to appreciate it, be grateful for it, honor it.

every night last week we sat on our patio or on our deck, just sitting. at the end of the day – after having dinner al fresco – we – truly – just sat.

and we talked. about anything, everything, nothing.

earlier in the day – on one of the days – i got ready to plant one last sweet potato vine. d had spray-painted a plastic pot and it was ready for the transplant and to be hung on the old ladder in the corner of the deck.

d asked me if he could get me a chair – as i have found that placing a chair on the patio next to the raised deck makes planting easier on my back. i thanked him and said that i was only planting this one pot.

but then i was struck by how generous this offer was. for in the middle of everything he was doing, he was concerned that it might be easier for me if i had a chair – as i had used while potting other days – and he was going to drop everything to go get me one if i wanted or needed it.

and so, it was then – one of those rare moments you remember – not because you don’t appreciate each other all the time, but because sometimes a very intentional wave of gratitude is easy for your brain to snapshot into your memory.

i walked over to where he was weeding the cracks in the patio and bent down. wrapping my arms around him, i told him how much his kindness meant to me. it wasn’t even a few seconds and dogga was there, right in the middle of our embrace, pushing his head up into the armwrap hug, his face even with ours, in the middle of so much love.

i whispered to d, “memorize it.”

of course.

we three stayed that way for at least a full minute, which is a long time for a busy aussie. it was a magical minute. definitely daisy-path stuff.

our old dogga stuck close for a bit more, to get kisses and pets and butt-butts. he didn’t see the tears welling up in our eyes as we committed it all to visual and visceral memory.

d went back to weeding and i potted the sweet potato vine and hung it on the ladder.

it seemed right that this sweet potato would keep vigil over our little corner on our deck. my sweet momma’s words, “live life, my sweet potato,” ring in my ears.

sweet potatoes and the daisy path. sunhats and glasses of wine, a checkered tablecloth and adirondack chairs. our dogga and a sanctuary of peace. love and gratitude.

the sweet phase, indeed.

*****

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

it sits on the dashboard of littlebabyscion – the vestiges of a single daisy. it is now thirteen years old, this daisy. and it has been right there for all thirteen years, its seed coats still hanging on, though toughening by the day.

because we had never met when we met, i brought a daisy with me to o’hare – to distinguish myself from all the other people waiting at baggage claim, to be clear that it was me – there – waiting to meet him – arriving.

i told him that i’d be the one holding the daisy because i thought it better than a sign and because daisies are happy. i stopped at the florist earlier in the day to get my one daisy while in the middle of perseverating over what to wear.

in the end i wore jeans, boots and an oversized black chenille sweater and i felt like me. which is a good thing, particularly when you are meeting someone you have never met.

we had written for about six months. every single day. emails would arrive in the evening or in the wee hours and i’d lay awake devouring it all and writing back about my own life, candid and vulnerable – honestly typing it all to this new friend with whom i had only had one phone conversation.

we discovered that life – as artists, even in different mediums – had some parallels to which we could easily relate. we discovered that life held some of the same mysteries for us. we discovered that life’s challenges were, well, challenges for both of us. we discovered we could see that life’s joys were swinging on a star…or two….or a zillion.

i was sort of aware of people laughing when we skipped through the airport to get on the escalator. but it was more like a slow-motion movie happening outside of me, one of the people skipping. slightly dreamy.

but it wasn’t all dreamy.

and though we found our zealous friendship evolved into something much, much bigger, something where two hearts melded together, something where love was undeniable and where we found we made a good team, it had many moments that were less than dreamy.

because life is like that.

this year it was thirteen years on the thirteenth. thirteen years since that veryfirstday we set eyes on each other – two artists scanning baggage claim, both in jeans and boots and black – both nervous, both excited. the next day we got big star drive-in burgers and fries, had a little champagne. this year we got big star drive-in burgers and fries, had a little champagne. a celebration of a big day.

back then, thirteen years ago, on the way into the airport, a girl asked me why i was carrying a daisy. i told her why. we ended up going to the same baggage claim. she was meeting her fiance at baggage claim because he was flying in. it was their wedding weekend. we saw each other in the ladies’ room a couple of times, nervously fixing our hair, pacing.

she looked at me and said, “he’s going to be your soulmate, you know.”

i laughed and said i’d be happy if we even turned out to be friends.

she was right.

and so was i.

thirteen years since the first day i laid eyes on him now.

and we were both right.

and the daisy sits on the dashboard of littlebabyscion, the eye keeping an eye on us with still so many seeds for the future.

*****

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

it was his birthday this weekend. he turned 65, a big-deal-birthday. my sweet momma always paid special attention to those big-deal-birthdays – especially the ones that were divisible by 5.

we had plans for friday – particularly because his actual birthday falls on busy valentine’s day – it just figures he is a valentine’s day baby! we were going to go to the milwaukee art museum and then to the public market, to sit at the counter and lunch on divine gumbo.

dogga woke us up early, not feeling well.

and that changed everything.

for this man – this man full of heart – whose very heart aligns with mine – with whom i have mutually – side by side – endured all matters of life for years now – decided he’d rather stick close to home, to be by our dogga so we can keep an eye on him and love on him.

in years hence, it will never matter to either of us whether we went to the art museum on friday, nor will it matter if we had gumbo that exact day. what will matter is that we let our love of our beloved dogga lead us and we prioritized with him in mind.

and this is just one of the reasons i know that “i don’t care about any words on the map besides you are here.”

some stuff just doesn’t matter. and where we spend time together is one of them, for anywhere on the map together – is home together.

i grant you – yes – that we would love to tool about the country – heck, the world – and explore and hike and photograph and write and paint and play music and create joy as we go. we’d love to immerse in places near and far – and feel the actual place, its actual culture, its energy, its gifts – for all places have innumerable gifts to offer.

but at this moment in time, we are happy – content – to be home in our old house, to be sharing our home with each other, to be sharing our home with our old dogga.

there will be other moments. there will be other places to see. there will be maps-with-words and plans and adventures.

right now here – with each other – is the most important place ever.

*****

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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.

*****

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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.

*****

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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.

*****

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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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