reverse threading

the path back is the path forward


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lighthouse, lighthouse. [k.s. friday]

“my lighthouse, my lighthouse, shining in the darkness, i will follow you…

my lighthouse, my lighthouse, i will trust the promise, you will carry me safe to shore…”.*

the first person i think of when i see a lighthouse is crunch. we spent so much time together going from long island lighthouse to long island lighthouse, it’s an instant connect. i sent him this photo of the light on the kenosha channel leading into the harbor.

we are lucky to live close to this harbor area. any day we don’t feel like getting in littlebabyscion or big red to drive out to a trail we walk down along the lake. it’s beautiful. and never the same. the foghorn sounds through misty days and is like the sound of mourning doves – gentle, somewhat wistful, always welcome.

as much as i think about mountains, i have been – my whole life – a sea-level-girl. i’ve never lived far from water – big water. long island sound, the atlantic ocean, the gulf of mexico, lake michigan. i’d go walk the beach winter, spring, summer, fall. i’d take my red ball-and-chain round am/fm transistor radio and a beach towel and soak up summer sun. i’d go snorkeling or diving or boating or fishing. it used to be – and still is true – that big water (and small water) is healing for me. it gives me breath.

“in my wrestling and in my doubts
in my failures you won’t walk out
your great love will lead me through
you are the peace in my troubled sea, oh oh
you are the peace in my troubled sea

in the silence, you won’t let go
in the questions, your truth will hold
your great love will lead me through
you are the peace in my troubled sea, oh oh
you are the peace in my troubled sea
“*

the lighthouse. it’s not hard to grasp the lyricist’s meaning. the divine – whatever or whoever that is for each of us – stays with us, holds us, holds on, lights the way. i suppose i should delve further into this songwriter’s political leanings and social consciousness, for i have found that many of the artists in this genre are hypocritically biased and sway away from equality, instead, lurking in the fringes of extremism. but for right now, i just want to remain – momentarily – a little bit uninformed. for this moment, i want to linger in some beautiful lyrics, a powerful song that my ukulele band sang many, many times.

the lighthouse of the harbor here is red. fire island lighthouse is black and white. montauk point lighthouse is white with a brick red stripe.

with those, time spent adrift at sea is lit, protection is concentrated candlepower.

our own personal lighthouses – those wise ones around us, our god, our universe-mother-earth – they light the way. countless times i have felt the strong arms of someone carrying me to shore, helping me breathe in the midst of the storm, holding steady in the turmoil.

“light their way when the darkness surrounds them. give them love, let it shine all around them.” (richard carpenter)
lighthouses. even on the top of a mountain, even in the desert, even in the amber waves.

life is slippery. here, take my hand.” (h. jackson browne, jr., author)

the h. jackson browne, jr. card is in my studio. it reminds me that lighthouses aren’t the only lighthouses.

“fire before us, you’re the brightest;
you will lead us through the storms…” (*rend collective)

*****

ADRIFT ©️ 1996 kerri sherwood

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read DAVID’S thoughts this K.S. FRIDAY


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our mirepoix. [merely-a-thought monday]

“…all mixed together for a mirepoix of a day,” jonathan-the-wise-one wrote.

what a delicious word. meer-pwah.

i did exactly this a few days ago. made a mirepoix – a sautéed combination of carrots and celery and herbs – in preparation for our homemade chicken soup. chicken soup is “good for what ails you,” according to my sweet momma. really, good for anything that ails you. we had spent time writing ahead – like this post – for there will be a few days we are away. and we had had a glorious fresh air walk – our faces were still flush from the cold wind.

i thought about a dear friend as i added fresh baby spinach leaves and ladled hot soup over them, wilting them. i thought about loida as we ate out of beautiful williams and sonoma bowls. we sipped red wine and talked about our families. we watched videos of jaxon. i thought about jen – who always has fun napkins – as i pulled out our 2023 napkins, willing 2023 to be a good year. we talked to 20 on the phone and sat up late-late-late to watch our son mix music on a livestream youtube. 2am is later than it used to be.

a mirepoix – the base – for flavorful soups and stews, that which is nourishing, life-giving, warming.

i can think of no better way to describe those around us – those people who have loved us into existence and those who hold on – than “our mirepoix”.

*****

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