reverse threading

the path back is the path forward

Tag Archives: presence


by Leave a comment

hold tight in the liminal space. [kerri’s blog on k.s. friday]

it was the last 60-something degree day in the forecast. from here on out, it’s all in the 50s and 40s. i mean, it is november. “but, but….” the brilliant-fall-day-loving part of me whines. no matter. it is what it is.

we tried to make the most of it. we spent it outside – in our backyard with dogga. we cleaned out the rest of the gardens, leaving all the grasses for critters’ safety and warmth over the winter. we took in the rest of the green cherry tomatoes and pulled the straggly plant. cleared off the other planters on the deck and tucked things away in the garage. sat in the sun in our adirondack chairs. and, when it was time for dogga’s nap, we took a much-needed walk in our ‘hood and along the lake and harbor channel. it was easy to walk miles – sunny with no wind. a perfect coda to the warm fall days we had had in early october.

someday we will chase this weather. when we have a vehicle that is not held together by zip ties or a vehicle that refuses to start at critical moments. it will be the someday that we are not rushing toward – because it will mean that our dogga will be with us in spirit and our hearts will be heavy with his loss. and so, we talk about road trips chasing this weather. we plan how we will check weather reports and apps with little homey places to rent and how we will just take off.

and in the meanwhile – in the meanwhile, we relish every moment here at home.

breck, out back, has decided to succumb – mostly, with the exception of a very few leaves – to late fall. there are aspen leaves all over our yard, which is pretty incredible to us. breck has grown big enough to have a fallen leaf presence on the ground. it brings me back to aspen stands in the woods in the mountains of colorado, to hiking, to babbling down-mountain brooks and high-mountain meadows…things that make me truly happy.

we step outside and there is a certain scent in the air. that leaf-falling woodsy aroma, the one that makes me wistful for the old woods behind my growing-up house, wistful for the planting fields and quiet beaches and apple orchards of long island. wistful for the wildflowers waning in high breck. wistful for the woods that surround the stream we’ve sat in numerous times in aspen, everything quiet around us. yes, the wistfuls have arrived.

and, in the middle of it all – this meanwhile liminal space in time we intimately share with our sweet old dogga – we ground ourselves in the sun – the one that will shine through our treasured aspen tree’s mostly-empty branches, the one that shines on the back fence and glints in our eyes, the one that will glance off the snow and brilliantly light the world, the one that is there even on the dreariest dark days – patiently waiting behind the clouds.

it’s kind of sad to see the warmer days end. we brace for the winter. we’re not really sure about what is to come – on so many levels.

but we will hold tight to the light of this sun and the promise of new each and every day.

*****

YOU HOLD ME © 1997, 2000 kerri sherwood

download music from my little corner of iTUNES

stream on PANDORA

read DAVID’s thoughts this K.S. FRIDAY

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

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


by 1 Comment

golden heart. [kerri’s blog on d.r. thursday]

a week ago now, it was what we needed. a little love from the universe.

the day before the election, eight days into our sweet dogga’s idiopathic vestibular disease (read: terrifying episode of loss of equilibrium with lingering effects)…we were tired.

so stepping down off the deck onto the patio and seeing a bright and sunny heart did my heart good. i called d over to see it. we both stood, staring at it, breathing deeply…slower…hopeful.

we are still sleeping in the dining room – right next to the sunroom where our dogga is spending most of his time…and particularly his nights. as his symptoms ease up and he gets more steady, we will eventually move from the air mattress back to our bedroom. but neither of us minds. we are grateful to have had a way to be close to him for these last two weeks. we are grateful we have been able to be with him these last two weeks. we know that love heals and we are giving him big love in the hope that it will help diminish some mighty scary symptoms.

on the days that d carried dogga outside and we both stood guard along the pond as he wobbled around the yard, we took stock of everything we could. we noticed the changing leaves as they fell into the pond, we noticed the gathering of fallen golden and brown aspen leaves on the ground in our yard. we thanked the plants from the potting stand as we cleared up and stoked up for winter. we noticed – again – the curls of fur on dogga’s soft ears and the way his paws were striped with color. we moved slowly, if at all. inside, we have spent the last two weeks in the sunroom mostly and we are grateful.

we know that – just like for everyone and every thing – for our dogga there are no time guarantees. but we also know that every single day we have loved on him and supported him and helped him regain his strength. and i don’t think that there is anything more important that anyone can ask for in life.

to be loved, supported and helped.

golden universal heart.

*****

read DAVID’s thoughts this D.R. THURSDAY

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

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


by 1 Comment

in the fog with dogga. [kerri’s blog on k.s. friday]

when the fog lifts, we are hoping that our beloved dogga will be more himself.

it happened the beginning of this week. suddenly, for no apparent reason whatsoever, dogga collapsed. he was unable to stand, to walk, his eyes were jerking back and forth (nygastum) and he was dizzy and, clearly, terribly nauseous. it was pretty terrifying to witness this strong, vibrant dog suddenly incapable of movement, confused and scared.

vestibular disease (IVD) affects the balance system and comes on without warning. with symptoms that look horribly like a stroke, between reading dogcare sites, joining an online group and calls to veterinarians, we became aware of this syndrome (actually, a group of symptoms) we had never heard of before.

our world reduced to the sunroom.

we padded the floor with more non-skid rugs and cleared the room of extraneous stuff.

then we sat on the floor with our dogga and gently petted him, trying to ground him and keep him reassured.

we sat. and we sat. and we still sit…on the floor with him.

we moved an air mattress into the dining room (right next to the sunroom) and slept right next to him, waking multiple times during the night to help him move or to clean up from his extreme nausea.

for days now, we have not ventured further than the sunroom, though david carries dogga outside while i bring the big beach towel that serves as a sling to help hold him up.

we are learning presence and patience. we are leaning into hope.

when the fog lifts – and they say that sometime after 72 hours things should improve – we hope that he is able to be the dogga he knows he is, for we can see in his eyes he has no idea what has happened.

he’s been drinking water on and off when we hold it directly under him and on wednesday he ate the tiniest bit when i hand-fed him some chicken and rice. it is a very slow process and everything seems to be in slow motion here.

in a time when people are so divisive and angry and mean-spirited, i have found that there is a community of generous people whose dogs have experienced this who are out there, ready to help with reassurance and wisdom that comes from being through it. politics do not enter into the equation, not one little bit. instead, the opposite – compassion.

as i write this (on thursday) i remember late last night – also sitting at our little bistro table in the sunroom with dogga resting. last night we watched the milwaukee brewers win the world series and the fireworks went off in our neighborhood all around us. probably one of the worst days for dogga to hear fireworks, we both jumped back down to the floor to help shield him from the noise that frightens him. we tried to explain to him why people were so excited that they were shooting off fireworks. i could see what looked like a literal fancy firework display coming from just around the corner. it was an exciting night for milwaukee and wisconsin and it just took a few minutes to calm dogga back down while the fireworks eased up.

when the fog lifts – and dogga is past these crucial hours of this disease – we hope he returns to us as the dogga who jumps on the bed with his candy cane, who races in circles around the yard when the dachshunds are out next door, who noisily demands treats and happily follows us around the house. we hope the zillion words and expressions he knows are still present with him and that his confusion in the blurry world he is in right now begins to quickly wane. we hope that he feels better.

the thing we are sure of? when the fog lifts we will have spent every moment in the fog with him. and we wouldn’t have it any other way. we will walk with him out of the fog into whatever comes his way and will deal with it all one day at a time. dogga will still be dogga, regardless.

all things are possible – as long as he knows he is loved and we are right here with him.

and, geesh, isn’t that something we might all take into the rest of our lives?

*****

WHEN THE FOG LIFTS © 1997 kerri sherwood

download music from my little corner of iTUNES

stream on PANDORA

read DAVID’s thoughts this K.S. FRIDAY

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

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


by 1 Comment

constant constancy. [kerri’s blog on two artists tuesday]

it feels like a bit of a homecoming. this trail is so familiar. yet it has been some time since we have been there, spending time on it. our absence – and its absence in our daily life – has not changed how it feels, though. that feeling we get – with our feet on its dirt – is still the same.

there is a constancy to some things. even in this ever-changing world, some things last.

this is the place we go to sort…a footpath that takes us through meadow and woods, bog and swamp and riverside.

each time we hike through – whether we have just been there or if it has been a long while – the trail reaches out to us – tendrils of soft air swirling around us – empty space for words or sighs or silence. it is a blank palette. we can choose to fill it or leave it blank – taking from it only what we need, knowing it will be there again the next time.

in these times of so.much.chaos, it feels like an imperative to find that which stays steadfast. instead of feeling like we are being whirled around, impacted by twisted intentions or mean-spirited cruelty, it is a matter of grounding to connect to the people or places or things that hold steady.

maybe it’s because of all the chaos, but we are finding that there are fewer and fewer of those people, places and things. does it just seem as though community is shrinking?

we wish we could be on the ditch trail or the trail up alongside the brook to the high mountain meadow. but for right now, this simple river trail brings us peace – with all its familiar twists and turns, the places we know to look for turtles, the sun patches where snakes sometimes sunbathe, the hawk’s screech overhead, the elusive deer in the briarpatch on the north end and in the woods down by the big curve in the river. just knowing it keeps us comforted, reassured.

the trail is relatively impervious to what is happening in this nation. fortunately, nature is doing its thing there and, for now, the trail and forest preserve are protected against invasive species and other things that would negatively impact it. it holds steady as the trail, not budging in its tender caregiving to the people who walk upon it, people who seek its quiet and its tenacity to maybe avoid this society’s current unrelenting assault on all their senses.

we are two of those people. grateful for this beautiful dirt path, grateful for its constant thick-and-thin constancy.

*****

read DAVID’s thoughts this TWO ARTISTS TUESDAY

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

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


by Leave a comment

from our backdoor. [kerri’s blog on two artists tuesday]

we have been spending a lot of time near home these days. with the uncertainty of our sweet old dogga, it is nearly impossible to make any plans to go away. we need to be here with him – through all the challenges his senior roller coaster presents.

and so, our hikes-for-miles are exchanged for walks-for-miles and are from our backdoor.

we take them at different times of day and in different weather. it is truly gobsmacking what is right nearby and, on these days close-to-home, we are taking care to notice that and appreciate it.

late on a stunning late-september afternoon – delaying dinner prep for a couple hours – we took off from home.

walking east along the marina we could see the smallest softest-pink half circle rising out of the lake. as we got closer, the pastel palette of sky continued to change hue – and the harvest moon began to make its way into the horizon.

we did absolutely nothing to help this moonrise – we simply stood in awe, staring at its stellar performance, soaking in the sheer beauty, the predictability of a moonrise, the comfort of something so normal yet so entirely gorgeous.

after a bit we noticed that many people had gathered on the rocks to watch, also obviously enchanted by it, also photographing it.

a sailboat was heading north and passed directly in front of the moon. as it continued to sail, people were comparing notes about their videos and photos of this moment in time – a moment we had all shared.

it was as if everyone was – for these minutes – on the same page. we could all agree that this soft-pink harvest moonrise was glorious.

if only all the rest of life-these-days were as aligned.

*****

read DAVID’s thoughts this TWO ARTISTS TUESDAY

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

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


by Leave a comment

particularly now. [kerri’s blog on two artists tuesday]

for years now, walter and irma have had an ongoing spat about our backyard. they have argued over and over about whether or not we would everrrr get a flat feeder for them – this beautiful pair of cardinals who are loyal to our address.

every time walter would moan and complain irma would reassure him, “i know they will get one. just be patient,” she’d tweet at him, admonishing him for his lack of faith.

we have a “regular” hanging birdfeeder and we have a handed-down standing birdfeeder (which, right now, we aren’t stocking since it has been a source of sustenance for a very large raccoon family who are likely the culprits doing damage to our roof and our neighbor’s.)

but the flat feeder we had in our sights was a bit out of reach for our budget – wild birds unlimited has a really fabulous set-up: a pole that discourages even acrobatic squirrels (of which we have plenty), a little umbrella and flat feeder, various other feeders for various other species of birds and all in recycled plastic that should last throughout the seasons. just not really in the line-up of things-to-buy right now.

so walter was kind of right – his kvetching about our slow response to their flat-feeder-needs might have been well-earned.

until this week.

d and i love to watch our birds. particularly in these times. we sit on the deck or out on the patio (or even in the sunroom at our bistro table by the window) and watch them fly in and out, at the feeder, on the top of barney, at the birdbath or the pond – getting sips of water. they warm our hearts – these innocent creatures. they calm our spirits and they do us good.

it suddenly occurred to us that we might be able to just simply build our own flat feeder – out of scraps of wood in the basement – in order to at least tide over these cardinals and finches – particularly walter and irma – who like to eat their schnibbly seeds while looking all around them to keep safe.

we can totally understand the need to look all around to stay safe. we are all in that mode these days, i’d say. this country is giving us a run at what we can make our own efforts to save our democracy – to push back lurking authoritarianism that is the apex predator for us all.

and so we went into the basement and found the exact right size piece of scrap wood. some paint, glue and four screws, some hooks, some jute, screen that was rolled up in the rafter, and a shower hook later, we were ready for the royal couple.

d did the honor of hanging the feeder on the pole. we clapped and sat back and waited.

nothing happened.

not one bird even ventured near it.

here we were, trying our best to address their needs and not one of them even explored our new flat feeder.

the next day was the same.

and so was the next.

it was somewhat depressing.

and then….it happened.

suddenly, there was a cardinal on the edge of the feeder. and then he moved INTO the feeder. and then he started to munch on the safflower in there!!

not a big moment in the overall scheme of things – particularly now – but a moment nonetheless.

for we saw a need and we tried to address it. even the creatures and critters around us have needs. it may not be fancy – or the most perfect flat feeder – but in these times if we just all do the best we can, offer the best we can – in every way – it makes a difference.

walter and irma perched on the fence at the back line.

irma glanced over at walter, “see?” she said.

from the patio, i swear i could see walter rolling his eyes.

but i also could hear his tiny brain, “she’s always right.”

even so, he turned toward her. and with a belly full of safflower seeds, he chirped to irma, “i love it.“

we each have a chance to make a positive difference in these days. whether big or small – or even tiny – everything counts. in our own homes, in the backyard, in the ‘hood or our community, in our state and in our country, in this beautiful world – which desperately needs us to participate in goodness. particularly now.

*****

read DAVID’s thoughts this TWO ARTISTS TUESDAY

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

notice-wonder-mode. [kerri’s blog on k.s. friday]

sometime in the two-thousand-aughts my girl and my boy gifted me with a tall bamboo vessel filled with feathery ochre and barn red reeds. it immediately found its way into a special spot – any gifts they give me are so very cherished – and it has moved around from time to time.

its last long-term place of residence was in our sitting room, but we did some rearranging a couple years back and it found its way into our bedroom, right between the gingham wingback recliner and the windows. the east windows. and there it has stayed – this place where it welcomes the sun each day and holds steady as light streams over it. from our perch on the pillows, it is a beautiful fluff of color and light and shadow. i can’t imagine it in a better place.

on a morning recently, the sun was coming up at just the right angle to tiger-ize these dried plumes. stunning. the things you notice when you are in notice-wonder-mode.

on a walk recently we talked about our life together. things are pretty simple these days – as we hold vigil for our dogga – not venturing out too far for too long. some days are better than others for him. some days he has puppy-face on and he is strong and vibrant and enthusiastic. some days he has old-man-face on and he is slow and tired and his stomach is upset and it is clear that he is uncomfortable. the difference in these days is striking and there is no way to predict which day it will be when the sun is rising.

dogga wakes us around 4:30. he is hungry from the overnight fast and so he recognizes that his sensitive belly needs breakfast. after he eats, we sleep for maybe another hour – maybe – but then he wakes us because, well, we think he wants us up, he wants our company, he wants to start what he knows is the morning ritual – “put the coffee on,” he urges.

like people with sensitive bellies or dietary concerns or various other health reasons, he eats little bits every few hours. it seems to really help him. we make special meals for him and try to read him best as we can.

we were invited to go away with friends recently. not only was the weather going to be perfect but we love our adventures with these friends and so getting away with them would have been perfect as well.

we struggled with leaving dogga.

and ultimately decided we couldn’t go.

we don’t know what will happen to our old dogga as these days go by. we know we are very lucky to still have him with us. no matter what, our commitment to him has to outweigh anything we are doing just for ourselves, outweigh any fomo, outweigh any uncertainty. this sweet aussie has given his whole life to us – he has ridden the roller coaster of the last thirteen plus years with us – he has been steadfast and sensitive and intuitive and our rock. we stand in all these moments now with him, without knowing the course that things will take.

and so, we will be in notice-wonder-mode. the moon rising over the lake, the last cherry tomatoes and a bit of remaining basil, the edges of the aspen leaves changing, an exchanged glance yoga-mat-to-yoga-mat as we exercise in the living room, the bazillion blooms on the black cherry mum, the taste of an oven-baked baked potato with just salt and pepper, the crunch of homemade salsa on a chip, first morning coffee, the coze of our new sweatshirts, dogga grinning at us during a belly-belly, an unsolicited text from the kids, the first jeans day of fall, and, yes, the golden light on the plumes by the window.

*****

as it is © 2004 kerri sherwood

read DAVID’s thoughts this K.S. FRIDAY

download music from my little corner of iTUNES

stream on PANDORA

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

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

a very long time ago – decades – my friend joe-z took me on the curvy, hilly route 25A on long island – east of northport – to teach me how to drive his datsun 240Z.

at the time my own car was my 1971 volkswagen superbeetle bug, so i was driving something that was quite a bit more tame than the 240Z – ok, a lot more tame than the 240Z.

his red z-car was powerful, low to the ground, with a very responsive suspension and tight steering. it was a lot to handle if you wanted to take it to its limits. i remember it as being stick shift – four on the floor – like my bug.

i was timid as we started, the curves of the road intimidating, the hills and slanted roadway a bit nerve-wracking with this much power in my hands.

but joe-z was patient and had time to spend. and, among other things, he taught me that driving into the curves – accelerating – would give me the ability to control the curves and not have the curves control me.

i can still remember driving that Z, still remember the power under me, still remember the lessons from those times driving that car in various conditions.

so i nodded during the movie the art of racing in the rain when the race car driver character denny said, “no one knows what curves life will throw at you, but if the driver has the courage to create his own conditions, then the rain is simply rain.”

25A’s curves are simply curves. its hills are simply hills. and the road right in front of you is what exists.

in this time of my life, i am finding that courage is the thing that counts. the unpredictability of life can be mind-boggling and sometimes shattering – in so many ways – and accelerating around the curves may well be the only difference between succumbing or having some sort of control.

on these particularly rainy days, we can see that rain is most definitely rain. it can overwhelm the land, communities, spirits.

standing up to the fear of any of that while adapting best as one can may not diminish the rain’s potential impact – we cannot underplay the rain’s havoc-wreaking. but presence, resilience and placing your eyes where you want to go – like the race car driver in the movie – can help survive the conditions.

we can learn from each other – lessons that generalize over spectrums of life: shift our weight in the saddle, press into the turning waterski, sustain-pedal with some reserve, taste food before salting.

rain can simply be rain.

*****

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

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

i recently made a chain of paper rings. it had about thirty strips of colored paper – many of the colors visible and invisible in this cloud – each cut with fancy paper scissors or pinking shears, looped, stapled and hung on the closet in our room.

it was a countdown and i needed the visual to keep it all in perspective, to remember to hold it all lightly, to know that there are days before The Day and days after The Day.

our whole lives are filled with paper rings, connected loops that go on and on and on. each season of our lives drops to the floor when we cut the loops loose and then – miraculously and on cue – the next season starts.

i had placed a lot of emphasis on The Day at the end of the paper chain. when it arrived, not only was it anticlimactic, it turned out to be utterly disappointing, completely unsatisfactory and a day that had been overemphasized in my mind and heart as we headed toward it, lopping off loop after loop.

i suppose that this is not uncommon. anticipatory angst, anticipatory fear, anticipatory grief, anticipatory glee at completing something – they are all supercharged and take up a lot of space in us. i read that the buddha would view it as dukkha– which is unnecessary suffering – that which pulls us away from the present moment. the wish for a specific outcome rails against the fear of that outcome not coming to fruition – it all is a tug-of-war and is suffering itself. at the end of the paper chain something is to happen – we imagine the best, we imagine the worst – all unwritten, all fictitious, unpromised though powerful – but what about every moment – every loop – in the meanwhile?

the rainbow in the cloud was just beautiful. it morphed and changed with the wind, but it stuck around for a while before it vanished. we watched from the adirondack chairs on the patio, content to be in its company.

maybe it was a reminder that nothing is permanent, that no paper chain has a guarantee, that each loop counts. and so does every color.

*****

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

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

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

there is a company that has captured my attention, a small family-owned business. i don’t own anything made by this company – yet – but every single time i browse through their website, i find myself completely happy. each product – floral sheets, boho skirts and pants, some trinkety trinkets i usually don’t purchase – every single thing textural and colorful – a kaleidoscope of happy – is an item of thoughtful and intentional beauty.

in these times, it would seem that a kaleidoscope of happy is mighty valuable.

the jalapeños at the farmstand (as well as the sweet peppers we photographed and purchased) have the same impact. such happy colors, so unassuming – just doing their i’m-a-pepper thing, delighting us.

the quilt on our bed is like that as well. the colors make us happy – year-round – and when the east sun streams in across the foot of the bed, there is not much that feels quite so reassuringly warm.

in an effort to – every now and then – not watch the news, we take to youtube to see whatever else is out there – thru-hikes, mountain summiting, house-buying, rockclimbing, rvs, van-life, restoration projects, bigfoot, tiny houses, zen videos – whatever will take our minds off what is actually happening – at least for a little bit of time.

there was a video of a guy who had distilled the ten most important things about cleaning out your stuff (which now goes into the same pile as my sentimental-people-getting-rid-of-stuff book and the intense konmari methodology). if you are looking for a dopamine rush, i suspect this is not the way.

anyway, on this video one of the things he said – which I’ve only heard about a zillion times before (though i do not heed it regardless of how many times i’ve heard it i-blame-my-mom) – is to not save things “for good”. instead, he encouraged using things that we have – clothing, china, heritage pieces or things just purchased.

we’ve been trying to do this lately – we have moved all the handed-down fenton hobnail serving pieces and the leaded glass bowls and such into places that are easy to access. instead of serving things in plasticware or ordinary stoneware, we now choose the milkglass hobnail for happy hour charcuterie or the crystal bowls for slices of cucumber and hummus. “use them,” i remind myself, “today is important.“

clothing is harder.

he urged – on the video – to not save clothing for fancy events – to just wear these pieces – perhaps consider that every day is a fancy event.

as a person who gets stuck in patterns of clothing-wearing (if you know me you are nodding here) this is much more difficult. i need to take the flowy boho pants of out my closet and put them on. i need to wear the oversized overalls, the daisy sneakers, the maxiskirt i got in colorado. other than an spf sunshirt i bought on $9.97 clearance at costco a couple weeks ago, i can’t remember what else i have bought in recent times – clothing-wise. oh…a pair of shorts, at the beginning of the summer. (i actually detest shorts now, but feel like i need to own a pair or two anyway.) though it doesn’t count as an article of clothing, my really colorful REI pride crossbody/waist pack has made it to the front of the class and i use it everyday walking or shopping…a piece that manifests happy as soon as i strap it on.)

anyway, i’m losing the point here – which was??? – oh yeah….wearing – and using – the things that make you happy.

likewise – if something does not make you happy – if it no longer fits into the picture of your life – you can give it away. this guy gives you permission (so do the author of the sentimental-people book and marie kondo and every other clearing-out guru).

which would suggest that if you see something that you know would make you happy, then you should consider getting it. (this is also a hard part for me – i know you are nodding emphatically here – as i am not a spontaneous shopper. always belabored by budget, conscience and indecision, i ponder and ponder and ponder before i purchase, if i purchase…)

but there are those gleefully happy floral pillowcases and those incredibly happy floral sheets and…

and maybe, just maybe, someday…

but first – practicing….things out, things out, things out….the gurus are clapping.

and in the meanwhile, before any things-in, the corked jalapeños and the sweet peppers will have to suffice.

they make the happy zone and join in my kaleidoscope of things-beautiful on this day…this important day.

*****

read DAVID’s thoughts this D.R. THURSDAY

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

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