reverse threading

the path back is the path forward

Tag Archives: reassurance


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decrescendo of the day. [kerri’s blog on not-so-flawed wednesday]

there is a spot in our backyard – a pretty specific spot – where we can sit and watch the sun as it gets lower and lower in the sky. it filters through clouds or the trees to our west. it lingers over the familiar rooflines of houses nearby. it is a spot on the patio that is ridiculously reassuring as we adirondack-chair sit, sunglasses on, witnessing the beginnings of the end of the day.

because we are not given to dinners out – and they aren’t really in our budget anyway – we tend to spend the waning hours of daylight on our deck or on this patio. maybe with a little happy hour, maybe just quietly – either way, it is a magical way to be a part of sundown, to begin evening, particularly when the ‘hood around us is silent but for the sparrows, chickadees, cardinals getting in last licks at the birdfeeder, dustbathing in the dirtspots dogga has generously dug, sipping water from the birdbath or the pond. it can be so quiet as to hear the hummingbird’s tiny chirps as it buzzes over our heads after devouring at its feeder. these are good days, the days that decrescendo like this.

and so, i try and capture these ends-of-day – for other days when the time comes for sunset and the horizon is full of clouds or rain, for other days when our hearts need the reminder, the universe hug that there is a night of rest coming and a new day to follow.

i glance over at d – whose hand is holding mine – and watch dogga run his backyard circle of joy.

for this moment, i feel a sense of peace. I breathe it all in – soaking in the energy that we need to be in these moments of history. i lean back against the throw pillow and exhale.

and hope to sit here again tomorrow.

*****

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

we know these trees. we have walked this trail amid these trees for years now, processing life as we go. they are familiar to us; they feel like chosen family – waiting for us, to hear our voices, our laughter, the crunch of our boots on dirt, pebbles, leaves. they are curious – to hear snippets of challenges, of joys, of sorting – bits and snatches of our conversation as we hike.

these trees – all of them – the sculptural, the leafless, the verdant, the not-yet-shed-their-leaves, the evergreen – hold us, help us feel secure in this place, in this world. the curve of the trail – how we know it well – gives us pause in worry, recognizing the reassurance of the known.

there are three or four trails like that here. memorized, well-loved, never surprising and always full of stunning surprises. there is a specific trail – through stands of aspen trees – on a ridge in aspen. there is a specific trail – with the pungent scent of pine trees – along a mountain stream in breck. if we could teleport there – to either of those trails – we would. for they both speak to our very souls.

“and into the forest i go, to lose my mind and find my soul.” (john muir)

we return home – to this place on earth that can both travel with us and be acutely found in our cozy old house – with less-burdened hearts. though sometimes momentary – in a world leaning into insanity – the trail tucks wisdom-bits into us and we bring home space that reminds us to breathe in the very minute we are in, grounding us.

and so, we try to go here – to the close-by – often. especially now.

we are aware of beauty. we both notice it and look for it.

we walk and talk. we walk in silence.

and the trees tap us on the shoulder as we pass and whisper sweet nothings to us.

*****

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

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my nest. [kerri’s blog on k.s. friday]

i felt it as we pulled in our driveway.

most of the time i can feel this. though sometimes, i am too busy or rushed. and though sometimes, i am frazzled with thoughts. and though sometimes, i am worried or distracted. and though sometimes, i have forgotten the simplicities in the midst of complexities.

i felt it though. and it was palpable.

the driveway greeted us as we pulled in – familiar cracks along its way. the wires overhead tugged and dipped in the wind. the leaves leftover from fall and winter blew in front of us. the house whispered, “welcome home.”

and this time – this time – i heard it. clear as day, as they say.

the whisper of a home – this place i have gone to for rest and nourishment, for creative work and rejuvenation, for the growing of beloveds and the gathering of friends, for belly-laughter and sob-filled tears, for refuge and solitude. this sanctuary. this place.

as we drove – on our way home – i could think of nothing better than to enter our home, hug on dogga, throw on my sweats and comfy boots, prepare a small meal. in this place.

my nest.

“this morning, in the fresh field,

i came upon a hidden nest.

it held four warm, speckled eggs.

i touched them.

then went away softly,

having felt something more wonderful

than all the electricity of new york city.” (mary oliver)

*****

THE WAY HOME from THIS PART OF THE JOURNEY ©️ 1997, 2000 kerri sherwood

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joan’s tomato soup. [kerri’s blog on merely-a-thought monday]

and this week will drop down into the 20s and 30s. i suppose it is time to turn on the heat.

it’s also time for us to start breaking out all our favorite recipes for soups and stews, slow cooker or stockpot or tagine meals. time to try some new ones.

we’ve made joan’s tomato soup several times now. we make special trips to tenuta’s, an italian grocery in town for specific tomatoes. simple, healthy ingredients, it is nourishing and wildly comforting. with a baguette on the side – or a grilled wisconsin-5-year-cheddar cheese sandwich – it speaks to the need for reassurance and warmth.

we were in costco when we stumbled upon san marzano tomatoes – in a 106 ounce can. such a deal – a third of the cost had we bought 28 ounce cans – we didn’t pass it up. instead, we will make a giant vat of tomato soup, sharing some with 20 and freezing some – sans the fresh basil. since this week will really drop in temperature, i’ll put it on the calendar.

we are starting to pull out warmer vests, more clothes, our 32 degree baselayers, socks and – drumroll – our favorite furry boots. i can’t quite wear the furry boots until the first of november merely two days away, but all the other layers already apply. we are solidly in fall. the weather app doesn’t show any temp above 45, save for three days – anomalies – in the 50s. and we’ll see if those stick.

i suppose it’s time to put away the jean shorts and the capris, the tank tops and the flipflops. it’s time to pull out the 180° earmuffs and david’s favorite hat and have gloves at-the-ready. there’s no going back.

i guess maybe i’ll put on the flannel sheets.

and maybe i’ll switch on the heat. we’ll see.

*****

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

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our hope frog. [kerri’s blog on two artists tuesday]

and then, there it was. in our pond. the first frog in a couple years.

it was helen, who is steeped in her gift of faith, who told us the significance of having a frog appear. “f-r-o-g,” she said, “fully-rely-on-God.”

it is astounding how very much the appearance of this frog means to us. in the middle of the middle, a nod (or hop) of reassurance is unbelievably gratifying.

not every frog likes a photo shoot, but “hope” participated nonetheless. she was shier than most of our other frogs, but maybe that’s because she’s just getting to know us. one of our frogs – 2020 maybe? named “pando” – actually let me pet it, stroke its head and speak to it up close.

regardless, we’re a tad bit worried because it is so late in the year. she arrived on the equinox and the fall weather will race past the starting gate, sprinting to winter.

we hope that hope will survive the seasons.

in every way.

*****

read DAVID’S thoughts this TWO ARTISTS TUESDAY

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holding on. [kerri’s blog on k.s. friday]

because we hike these trails often, we notice subtle changes. new sprouts, thicker vegetation, fallen trees, vole-holes on the path.

this day we noticed this large limb – suspended. it had fallen. because we’ve had large limbs fall in our yard, we know that their size – particularly from far away – belies their weight. this broken branch, even dead wood, had to be mighty heavy.

and yet – the next tree over caught it and was holding on. merely three points of contact, like one hand and two feet on a ladder, these three little v’s where significantly smaller branches met. three points. and so, we will watch it. we wonder how – nestled into the other tree – it happened to fall just right. we wonder how long it will be there – high up in the other trees that show no sign of leafing, of life.

support doesn’t take much. it’s astounding to walk in forests and see evidence of mighty holding up mighty, mighty holding up small, small holding up mighty. nature caring for nature.

i stood staring at the tree from the trail. i looked at david, also staring. we know that the physics of how this branch fell into these three points, how it distributed the weight, must play into why it was held there. but as i stood there i could only think about how that could work in the people-world.

points of contact. support. extending branches of encouragement, reassurance, compassion – these could make all the difference for others. how often i have seen a plato-esque meme on social media reminding us to be kind – for everyone we meet is fighting a battle we know nothing about.

big limbs holding tiny branches. tiny branches holding big limbs.

points of contact.

they will hold a fallen tree in the woods. they will hold you stable on a ladder. they will hold your heart steady.

and – in this forest of humankind – at any given moment, you might find you are one of someone else’s branches, the bridge between falling and held, the difference between holding on and letting go.

*****

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forest periscope. [not-so-flawed wednesday]

there are metaphoric moments like this.

you are surrounded by the forest – dense, unyielding, a bit dark. though there are paths, they are still shadowed by big trees, overgrowth that doesn’t seem to allow in the light. and then – as you are plodding on and on, making an effort to maintain your equilibrium, to stay in center, you come to the tiniest clearing. and, looking up, there is sky. clear blue sky.

a periscope to the universe.

and suddenly, your worries and angsts, your doubts, your lost road are scaled down, lessened to tiny pinpricks of stars, unseen in the day-sky, though ever-there, allayed in the bluest-blue, soothing hope in the periscope, a reminder of perspective and time and expanse and right now.

and you stand, with all the creatures in the forest, and look up – for minutes and minutes unblinking until you are slightly dizzy from your stillness. and you lower your head, stretching your neck, your gaze-to-the-heavens broken.

but you are moved. you are reminded of your tiny-ness in the vastness. you remember you are part of this universe and, that just as you are not alone in the light that the leaf-periscope offers, you are not alone in the dark either.

you breathe. a deep breath. a prayer. a gratitude.

and you walk on in the forest, knowing, for certain, that you will find natural clearings with big spaces of light. knowing, too, that curling your hand into itself and peering through – like a hand-periscope – you can focus on smaller bits of the forest and within it, find the bits of light between the leaves.

*****

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no same-old. [not-so-flawed wednesday]

i used to know someone who really despised redundancy. this person would interrupt and say, “you already told me that” or “i heard that already”. ask them about their day and they would reply, “same-old-same-old.” it was hard for me – a new yorker – born into repetition and long-story-telling.

d and i sat on that iowa porch only four days, but it doesn’t take long to grow fond of something beautiful.

in front of us – facing east – were two trees. beyond the trees were fields. before they were mowed down, the fields were wildgrasses green with sunny yellow flowers. in the distance – quite a ways off – was the road. a country highway, it was populated by many pickup trucks, an occasional sedan, rarely a semi and, at one point, more booming harleys than we could count.

the light changed during the day. no surprise there. the sun rose to the left of the trees and burned its way into the sky. the trees glimmered and reappeared through the early morning thin layer of smoke from wildfires in canada, jetstreaming its way into the heartland. it was bright in midday and then the sky took on the echo of the western sunset. at night, the trees were still a presence, silent, rooted strength.

i took many photographs of these two trees. they were somehow very comforting and reassuring; it was a time of memorial for columbus and emotions were all over the place. and the trees stood there, steadfast.

they watched us all gather and eat and talk and reminisce and play bags and run with oversized bubble wands. they watched us hula-hoop and dance in the grass and drag chairs following the sun and escaping the wind. they watched us wander and take pictures, play with gracie-cat, pour wine. they watched – as trees do – and we watched them back.

i love each of the photos of the two trees on the east side.

because there is no same-old same-old.

*****

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tucked in. [saturday morning smack-dab.]

there are moments – every now and then – when absolutely everysinglething feels right in the world.

it hits you and every molecule quivers with the butterflytummy of absolute contentment.

nothing worries you at that moment. nothing else enters in. it just all feels like everything is in alignment.

i do believe these moments are profoundly generative. they give us courage for the rest. they reassure us. they tuck us in.

*****

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hard questions. simple answers. [saturday morning smack-dab.]

i don’t know about you, but i – most definitely – talk to my dog. not just the sit, stay, come, paw sort of talk-talk. no, i am talking about laying bare my thoughts and questions and deep despairs and utter joys.

dogga usually looks as though he is paying attention; he is a really gifted eye-contact dog – better than many people i know. he doesn’t act like it’s unusual that i am divulging my innermost fears or existential ponderings. instead, he keeps eye contact and listens, his ears moving forward and back as he recognizes words…or maybe it’s because he thinks i am drawing to a close. either way, he is a really good audience and, though he never answers in words, his presence is comforting and steady and sometimes that is all i need.

i do believe, however, that somewhere deep inside of him is all the knowledge. somewhere in there he is all-knowing and all that is divine can be found in our dogs (or cats) and we are fortunate to share any tidbits of life with them.

somehow dogdog knows that steadfast and quiet are the real answers. he knows that letting me lay my head on his side is reassuring. he knows that his job is simply to love me back.

he does that without any hesitation. his gentle snoring, the rise and fall of his body breathing in sleep, his eyes closed in trust – he models how to do life. one moment at a time.

and we find the simplest answers to our hardest questions.

*****

read DAVID’S thoughts this SATURDAY MORNING

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