The Best Way [David’s blog on Merely A Thought Monday]

It’s a common misconception that in order to succeed in life it is necessary to climb over the bodies of the competition. Dog-eat-dog is among the saddest philosophies in the human canon. Not only is it a poverty mentality (there’s not enough for everyone), it’s a lie all dressed up in gold-veneer. It assumes achievement (of any kind) happens in a vacuum. No support. No privilege. No mentors. No relationship at all with circumstance. To be clear: “Every man for himself!” is a cry issued from the bridge when the ship is going down. It is the mantra of the mentally vapid and morally vacant, the desperate, the drowning. It is antithetical to thriving.

No one thrives in isolation.

The people I admire most are those who rose in life because they helped others rise. They invested in the betterment of their community because they understood that they lived in community. They understood that prosperity is something that is best created when it is created for all. My mentors understood that to suppress, undermine, exploit or demonize members of their community might bring momentary success but it inevitably fractured the foundation: all houses crumble. The best route to thriving is to make certain that the ship is solid and the course is beneficial for all on board. Taking care of others is the best way of taking care of yourself. Work hard. Be kind. Thrive.

As I write this, people across the nation are assembling for the No Kings protests. They know, as do I, that in order for a community – for a nation – to thrive it must protect the rights and values of all people, not only of its citizens. It’s a philosophy called democracy. Of the people, by the people, for the people. They are taking to the streets to push back against the authoritarian assault on our democracy by those who adhere to the dog-eat-dog philosophy otherwise known as fascism.

It’s been less than a year since the authoritarians took the reins of power and we’re already seeing the nation’s foundation crumble. When we suspend the rights of due process to immigrants, we suspend due process for all of us. When we suspend the rule of law for one man, we suspend the rule of law for all of us.

We are at the crossroads. It does my heart good to see millions and millions of people take to the streets as a peaceful community – in service to their community – to protest the outrages we now witness each day – and attempt to protect the rights of all people – all people – before they are lost, before this listing ship starts to sink, before the oligarchs, crooks and cowards on the bridge crow with delight, “Every man for himself!”

read Kerri’s blogpost about BE KIND

likesharesupportthankyou!

Share Your Pie [David’s blog on Merely A Thought Monday]

This one is from Roger. If you live in a world of limited pie than you’ll no doubt hoard or try to take someone else’s piece (it is also appropriate to insert the homophone, “peace”). If you live in a world of unlimited pie, a world of plenty of pie for everyone, then you’ll share your pie. You’ll share your peace/piece.

The only thing that’s different in those two pie-world-views is the belief in pie, and, as we know, belief is rarely a good reflection of reality but is an excellent creator of limitations.

There is no limit to the good vibes we can spread. Share your pie.

read Kerri’s blogpost about GOOD VIBES

likesharesupportthankyou

When It’s All Said And Done [David’s blog on Merely A Thought Monday]

I discarded another post this morning. Aghast at the latest lies and childish memes I wrote yet another political rant. It was harsh. It was too much. It led us into a lengthy conversation about how we might live and write in this toxic environment and yet not let the toxins poison us. How do we remain healthy while not denying the reality – the horrors – of our democracy’s collapse at the hands of those who swore to protect it?

In truth, I have not been happy with my recent posts. So many years ago I began writing for a specific audience – and myself – to make the distinction between unhealthy control and generative power. The shorthand is this: Control over/Power with.

Control is wielded over others while power is created with others. Control is self-absorbed. Power is other-focused. Control is the product of duality: us/them, black/white, winner/loser…It is oppositional. It can only lead to discord.

Power is created in a dynamic triad. It is relational. It is complementary and reciprocal. It always gives rise to harmony.

I realized in our conversation this morning that I had myself slipped into a duality. My writing has become oppositional. As our nation grows more violent and ugly by the day, my impulse has been to push back, to sound an alarm. I want to scream, “I am not that! WE are not that!”

Ronald Reagan famously said that “Government is the problem.” He was wrong. Government is neither a problem nor is it a solution (a duality). Government is a service (a triad). It is made of elected representatives in service to their constituents relative to serving the greater needs of the whole. It is dynamic. When functional and fair, it is complementary. Symbiotic.

Government becomes dysfunctional when it tries to run like a business and pretends it is subject to a bottom line (profit or loss). It is death for any service organization that forgets its reason-for-being and attempts to be something that it is not: government is not a business. It’s a no-brainer: privatization of government services places the emphasis on the bottom line – not on serving the people. For instance, privatize prisons and the bottom line of profitability will require the creation of more and more prisoners. Businesses need to grow. The same levers are true when applied to healthcare (as we are seeing) or education.

I believe most of the people of this nation are well intended. I believe the endgame of this administration is control so it must necessarily define everything as Us-and-Them. Demagogues need to demonize vulnerable communities and blame them for the ills of the nation. Demagogues need enemies-from-within since pitting us against each other is the route to ultimate control over…Demagogues need a Them.

People who are not steeped in blaming others for their pain are more likely to take responsibility for their destiny – which means they seek opportunity – which means that they are more apt the reach out to help and for help. Opportunity is a triad. Blame is a duality.

You might rightly ask me, “How on earth could a prompt featuring Sesame Street characters lead to a post so toxic that you had to toss it?” The answer is simple: in a control strategy like the one raging across our nation, in a forced duality designed to appear as angels and devils, good guys and bad guys, the bad guys will always get the focus. That’s the point of a control game: to see bad guys everywhere. To become reactive, suspicious, and angry. To reduce an otherwise complex, diverse thriving nation into a simplistic monotone. We are angels. They are devils. Happy and sad, grouchy and glad.

As someone once said to me, “It’s like drinking poison and expecting the other person to die.”

I drank the poison. I’m so glad that our conversation this morning opened my eyes and left me asking, “How do I not bury my head in the sand but deal with the reality and still remain healthy?”

Triads, baby. Focus on the dynamic relationships and set about creating some real power with others. When it’s all said and done isn’t that the point of a democracy?

read Kerri’s blogpost about SESAME STREET

likesharesupportthankyou

Meeting The Madness [David’s blog on Merely A Thought Monday]

Act 2 of Stephen Sondheim’s musical, Into The Woods, delivers a healthy dose of reality: there is no happily ever after. There is, however, a full-life with bumps and barnacles and growth and messy challenges and change. There is heartbreak and jubilation. There is a full-palette of feelings. There are bright days and dark days. A life without obstacles is a very boring affair.

In my past, when facilitating groups, I used to love proving to people that they like challenges, that they adore obstacles. If we don’t have hills to climb we create them. They are called hobbies. Or workouts. Or volunteering. We set goals that seem impossible and then meet them. And, among the greatest challenges we eagerly embrace is called “relationship”.

I knew how to teach about the challenge called “relationship” because I was once under the spell of happily-ever-after. I thought something was wrong with me when all of the colors of the relationship rainbow demanded attention. What was wrong with me was my unrealistic expectation, my dedication to a life without obstacles.

It’s what I love about this life: things flip over when illusions are popped. Happily-ever-after is no way to live. Each day I step out of bed looking for the miracles and find that they are always right in front of my face – and often they initially look like stumbling blocks. I can say with confidence that the road ahead looks to be riddled with hurdles and though I may grouse and complain, secretly I recognize and welcome the full-spectrum of color these hindrances will evoke.

My friend, Robert just wrote that, “…sometimes life throws big surprises at you.” We are living in a time when life is throwing big surprises at us in rapid fire each and every day. It seems that we are in an impossible situation with a government spiraling into authoritarianism. The vast majority of the people of this nation have had enough of the clown show and are turning out to meet the challenge.

There is no happily ever after. There is no return to a fantasy past. There are, however, millions and millions of people who are up for meeting the challenge, with all its bumps and barnacles, ready – more than ready – for the growth that meeting the madness will evoke.

read Kerri’s blogpost about I TOLERATE

likesharesupportthankyou

Ho-Ho-Ho [David’s blog on Merely A Thought Monday]

Evidently the elves had a bit too much nog and crashed the Wishing Palace into a tree. They must have been flying without a license since they seem to have crashed-and-run, leaving the Palace wedged into a tree with one runner missing. Will Santa be pissed? I’m not sure. Is jolly ole St. Nick capable of being cross? I imagine the sudden loss of The Wishing Palace during an drunken-elfen-joy-ride might raise his ire. In any event, I’d love to hear the whopper the elves tell Santa to explain the crash. Ho-Ho-Ho!

On second thought, instead of fleeing the scene, I’m not sure why the elves didn’t rush into the Palace and make a wish for an immediate full-Palace-repair. I mean, what good is a Wishing Palace if the wishes made in the Palace – especially wishes made by the elves that drive it – aren’t certain to come true? At the very least they could wish to keep the wreckage a secret from Santa – at least until they sober up and figure out how to repair the damage and return the Palace to its parking spot at the North Pole.

Apollo’s son, Phaeton, took the sun-chariot out for a spin and, like the elves, it was too much for him to handle. He couldn’t control the horses. Zeus had to strike Phaeton with a lightning bolt before the lad drove the chariot into the ground, scorching the earth in the process. If Apollo could enter the Wishing Palace he’d certainly wish to go back in time so he might prevent his son from taking his fatal joy ride.

The annals of time are filled with stories of incompetence at the helm.

The current administration, like Phaeton or the elves, have the reigns of the nation and have taken it out for a wild ride. Despite their bravado, despite the tale that they spin, it is increasingly clear that they are either too full of nog to hold democracy’s course or they do not have the fortitude to drive a constitutional republic.

In either case, we will very soon find ourselves lodged in a tree or can expect a lightning bolt that will end the joy ride. We can only hope that it’s merely a runner that we lose and that the crash sobers us. We can only hope that we have the wherewithal to repair what is broken. Since wishes seem empty at this point, we can at least hope for a republican party that remembers that governance begins with communicating with the other side. The art of compromise – the epicenter of democracy – begins with coming to the table willing to discuss solutions.

In any event, it’s not much fun listening to the whoppers that the republicans are telling, the fomenting of violence and division, their dedication to flying blind by hiding the economic indicators and jobs numbers. One thing is certain: to explain the crash they’ll no-doubt blame Obama or Biden or democrats. Taking responsibility for their actions is not in their wheelhouse. They’ll crash the Palace and run amok blaming everything under the sun but themselves. In response to their grand sham, I suggest we be like Santa and meet their reckless incompetence with a sober vote and a hearty Ho-Ho-Ho!

read Kerri’s blog about THE WISHING PALACE

likesharesupportcommentHOHOHO!

Above All Else [David’s blog on Merely A Thought Monday]

“Life is strange. You arrive with nothing, spend your whole life chasing everything, and still leave with nothing. Make sure your soul gains more than your hands.” ~ unknown

As a young artist Roger often asked, “What is sufficient?” If you solely choose an artist’s path – or an artist’s path chooses you – the odds of realizing a modicum of financial prosperity are slim. An artist in the USA necessarily makes peace with chasing a different kind of wealth. Soul wealth. Yet, the question of sufficiency is important to ask since it is the thin ice that many artists – especially as they age – disappear beneath. It is impossible to live on the bottom of Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs indefinitely. Perpetually struggling for food, heat, and shelter will inevitably drown the muse.

What is sufficient to keep the muse happy and fed?

Kerri came home and told me of a conversation she had with Steve. Most people – including us – want nothing more than to live a simple life. We do not need to own yachts or mansions. With the disappearance of the middle-class, the stagnation of wages, the wealth of the nation running to the top 1%…more and more people in these un-United States are sliding to the bottom of the Hierarchy of Needs. It’s one reason why there is so much anger out there. Safety is further and further out of reach for more and more people. Sufficiency is nowhere to be found.

We watched a conversation between two people who make their living on social media. Their discussion revolved around the cancer that social media has become. They explained that the algorithms sort to the extremes. The middle ground is nowhere to be found in social media conversations. Extremist views are elevated while moderate voices are minimized. In their conversation, they asked their substantial viewership to turn off their screens and go outside and sit with real people. Real connection is only possible when sitting face to face with real people – and that’s the only place where we might reclaim our common ground, our communal sufficiency, our safety – especially with those whose opinions differ from our own. Middle ground is a shared space.

Craig enticed me into a long text conversation about artistry. It made me reflect on what I believe and how many great mentors and teachers I have enjoyed. In my life I have been rich in life-guides. I still am. I told him that all of the great artists I have known – or who have been inspirations for me – have wrestled with their demons and, therefore, were fearless at asking hard questions of themselves and of others. Their hard questions, in the form of lyrics or images or dances or compositions or characters that they played…ultimately transformed their demons into teachers. They walked toward their fears and made them into something beautiful.

I lost three of my guide stars in the past few years. They created lives of sufficiency. They thrived beyond any measure that money could bring. Simple lives marked by a real connection with real people. Lives lived in conscious – and joyful – support of other people. Three rich souls who gained in their lives more than a mansion or piles of money that they would have never been able to spend. They brought people together.

The single thing that I remember about these three artists – above all else – above all that they taught me – is their abundant laughter. Isn’t that the sign of a good life well-lived? A life to emulate?

read Kerri’s blogpost about SOUL GAIN

likesharesupportcommentthankyou

The Number One Need [David’s blog on Merely A Thought Monday]

Recently we wrote about the ubiquitous question, “What can I do?” We-the-people are under assault by a government racing toward fascism and often find ourselves frozen in disbelief. John Pavlovitz’s answer to the question is to look local. Find a local need and fill it. A million small acts of kindness and support add up to a tsunami of good will across our injured landscape. It’s the Butterfly Effect.

It is also important to look nationally. Though we’re not hearing about it in the mainstream media, the Supremes are poised to strike a death-blow to democracy. They are hearing arguments to strike down Section 2 of the Voting Rights Act which prohibits racial discrimination in voting. It is, as Mark Elias says, “A Five Alarm Fire” for our democracy.

On the list of needs, raising awareness of the importance of this assault on voters rights is urgent. It, too, is the Butterfly Effect. Erase protections from racial discrimination in voting and there will be no constitutional prohibition on the republican gerrymander. A tsunami of republican political manipulations will sweep across our land and essentially end free and fair elections for all of us. Pushing back, protesting, ringing the alarm on this assault on minority voter protection…is utmost on the list of needs.

The republicans are attempting to push through their SAVE ACT that places limits on voting rights. The repeal of The Voting Rights Act would essentially be the nail in democracy’s coffin.

Number one on our national list of needs: a republican party that actually believes in democracy. They work to restrict voter access to free and fair elections while openly scheming to rig elections so they will forever remain in power.

Perhaps the number one need is mainstream news sources that actually report the news. Where-oh-where has the free press gone?

With a corrupt Supreme court doing the bidding of the wanna-be-king that they made, with a goosestepping republican congress and a largely AWOL democratic congress, it seems that the buck stops with us. A million tiny actions, like ringing the alarm or taking to the streets…can lead to very large consequences. After all, democracy, a government of, by, and for the people is, in practice, The Butterfly Effect. Every single individual act – every individual vote in a free and fair election -when combined with millions of votes – can send a tsunami of good will across our injured land. But first we have to actively protect the integrity of our right to vote from a deeply rotten Supreme Court and a republican party that serves a corrupt man rather than the oath they swore to our Constitution.

read Kerri’s blogpost about THE LIST OF NEEDS

likesharesupportcommentthankyou

What’s In A Name? [David’s blog on Two Artists Tuesday]

When at long last the humidity and heat broke, when the evening air was cool, we took a slow walk along the lake. It was a reprieve from the heavy air that seemed to me a metaphor for the state of the nation. Oppressive. Incessant.

Walking is for us an act of re-balancing. When it is “all too much” we walk to re-enter the present moment. For me in particular, walking gets-me-out-of-my-head or at the very least slows the pace of thought to something graspable. These past many weeks we’ve rarely walked. The heat and humidity was too much.

As Kerri took photos of the pastel sky, I breathed in the cool evening air, breezes from off the lake, and I thought of The Crucible.

Arthur Miller’s play, The Crucible, was written during the hysteria of the McCarthy era. At the end of the play, John Proctor has a choice, to sign his name to a lie, or to be executed. Wrestling with the untenable choice, he ultimately cannot bring himself to sign away his name:

“Because it is my name! Because I cannot have another in my life! Because I lie and sign myself to lies! Because I am not worth the dust on the feet of them that hang! How may I live without my name? I have given you my soul; leave me my name!'”

He could not live with himself if he signed his name to a lie that was being used to justify the murder of his neighbors and friends.

It is a play as relevant today as in 1953 when it was written. Joseph McCarthy eventually lost all credibility – he lost his name – when much of what he claimed was proved to be false.

Call it witchcraft. Call it communist hysteria. Call it woke socialism…Every single horror enacted in the past several months is built upon a lie. There is no national emergency at our borders. The crime in Washington D.C is at a 30 year low. The voter fraud in the United States is statistically zero. Mail in ballots are among the securest ways to vote. There was no emergency necessitating the president to take away congress’ power of the tariff. The 2020 election was not stolen. Democrats are not rabid socialists attempting to ruin the nation. “Waste, abuse and fraud” was – and is – a straw man for gutting our government and our standing in the world.

It’s all a lie just as McCarthyism and the communist hysteria was a lie perpetuated to justify political repression and a power grab.

It is bracing that so many willingly sign their names to the lies that are now being used to justify the murder and abuse of our neighbors and friends – here and abroad. Looking at the pastel sky, grateful for the return of the cool, I wondered how long it will be before the heavy lie catches up with those so eager to sign away their names.

It always catches up. Lies collapse on themselves: they eventually turn and feed upon the very people who perpetuate them. Just ask Rudy Giuliani. Witness what he did with his name. The only question is how many people of integrity, how many John Proctors or Kilmar Abrego Garcias will be disappeared, how many decent people will be vilified, their good names smeared and erased, before the heat breaks, before the manufactured hysteria retreats, before cooler heads and competent minds reclaim the democratic ideals and the power of the nation?

read Kerri’s blogpost about THE PASTEL SKY

likesharesupportcommentsubscribethankyou

More Than A Little Hippie [David’s blog on Merely A Thought Monday]

If conformity is what you seek, you need look no further than the Texas republicans – or republicans from any corner of the union. However, their lock-step compliance has nothing to do with the rule of law or adherence to standards or traditions – or any other conservative value; it has everything to do with obeisance to one bully-man. They bow low. Although they swagger and loudly proclaim their cowboy culture of independence, in action, they grovel in abject subservience.

Stephen Miller called protesters in Washington DC “aging hippies” and suggested that they go home and take a nap. It made me laugh; those aging hippies, exercising their first amendment right to protest, were refusing to grovel in the face of an authoritarian takeover. Unlike the swaggering-yet-toothless republicans, the aging hippies are resisting the militarized takeover of their city by the dictator-wanna-be. Those aging hippies are upholding a longstanding American tradition of protesting; they demonstrate to protect our freedoms from a lawless leader. They are standing up with courage and dignity.

Dignity and courage: two values – among many – that the toady republicans have apparently abdicated.

You know the world is upside-down when the cowboy-hat-wearing-guys-in-traditional-suits mewl and betray every single bedrock value that this nation holds dear, while the aging hippies stand tall and take to the streets to protect democracy. When the once unconventional hippies stand as the last firewall of democracy against those who claim to be conservative yet crumble and pule while working to make fascism the convention of the land.

There’s more than a little hippie in the original fighting spirit of this nation. By Stephen Miller’s definition, George Washington was a hippie. Abraham Lincoln was a hippie. Frederick Douglass was a hippie. Elizabeth Cady Stanton was a hippie. Every soldier who has ever fought for our democracy was a hippie. Every person who marched for civil rights was a hippie. Martin Luther King Jr. was a hippie.

A message to Stephen Miller and his fellow whining republican sycophants: no one – especially we hippies – and there millions of us – are about to go home and take a nap.

read Kerri’s blogpost about HIPPIES

likesharesupportsubscribethankyou

The Welcome Stone [David’s blog on Merely A Thought Monday]

“There is no greater remedy for helplessness than helping someone else, no greater salve for sorrow than according gladness to another.” ~ Maria Popova, The Marginalian, August 3, 2025

“We are due for a win,” I said.

She said, “You can stack up the losses and focus on that or you can recognize that we are winning all the time.” She began to list the many, many, many bounties that we experience each and every day. I laughed. A teacher teaching me one of my favorite lessons to teach: One of the most potent choices we enjoy is where we place our focus. The bounties comprise a mighty stack.

She climbed on the rocks to catch a photo of the waves crashing. The lake was lively and sending waves toward shore like an ocean. Her photo captured a surprise pictograph. “Hi.”

“Oh. Hello,” I said to the picture of the pictograph greeting.

“I don’t agree with spray painting the rocks,” she said, and added, “But this made me smile.” Me, too. It evoked a chuckle.

I imagined some distant future archaeologist discovering the “Hi” on the rock. A sign left by the ancients. The team of researchers will decode the marks and marvel. They will discuss the meaning of the scrawl left on the rock. Perhaps this spot was once the portal to an ancient city? Papers will be published. It will become known as The Welcome Stone. People will travel miles to see it. They will buy tickets and speculate.

It will live as a reinforcement of the message deciphered on a large statue discovered with a similar sentiment: Give us your tired, your poor…

“Who were these people?” they will ask.

It amused me to imagine that they would probably never know that, at the time of the making of The Welcome Rock, we – the people – were asking ourselves the same question.

read Kerri’s blogpost about HI

likesharesupportcommentthankyou!