Strive To Be One [David’s blog on Merely A Thought Monday]

“Love takes off the masks we fear we cannot live without and know we cannot live within.” ~ James Baldwin, The Fire Next Time.

Sometimes I pause and reread the previous few weeks of my blogposts. My first thought after my latest read was, “Good God! I’m bipolar!” I’ve learned not to listen to my first thoughts. They are not nearly as considered or considerate as the thoughts that follow. I am lately writing about love.

Love. This is the rest of James Baldwin’s quote: “I use the word “love” here not merely in the personal sense but as a state of being, or a state of grace – not in the infantile American sense of being made happy but in the tough and universal sense of quest and daring and growth.”

Love takes off the masks. The masks we fear we cannot live without. The masks we can no longer live within. It is a tug-of-war. It is vulnerable to be seen. Yet, to grow, old identities, like suits of armor, must be discarded. To grow up it is necessary to show up, to step-out-there.

Jonathan once told us that a tree must split its bark in order to grow. Snakes shed their skin. And people open their hearts and learn what it is to love.

“Love does not begin and end the way we seem to think it does. Love is a battle, love is a war; love is a growing up.” ~ James Baldwin

I found some measure of comfort about my nation (and my latest writing) in James Baldwin’s guiding words. Perhaps we are in a struggle to remove an old and ugly mask, still in place. Racial division. Misogyny. We fear what we will see if we drop this patriarchal mask. Yet, our love of country is requiring us to grow. To take a hard look at who we are and where we’ve come from. To shed the mask we can no longer live within. We are bigger in heart and spirit than our original colonial notion. The mask of divide-and-conquer is suffocating to the world’s greatest democracy, a nation of immigrants come together under the banner e pluribus unum, out of many, one.

Love makes us dare to grow up. Love makes us strive to be one.

read Kerri’s blogpost about HEARTS

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A Tale of Whoa! [David’s blog on Not So Flawed Wednesday]

We take so much for granted. Flip a switch and the lights come on. Twist a knob and water pours from the faucet. Turn the key or touch the button and the car starts. Flip open the computer and access the entire info-world. And then, one day, with little or no warning, the flip, the turn, the twist, the touch doesn’t produce the expected result. Easy-life evaporates.

For us, these easy-life-evaporations usually arrive in hard-clusters of three. For instance, a few weeks ago, Kerri’s computer ceased to compute. A few days later our trusty LittleBabyScion went down for the count. And then, to complete the trio, in a surprise move, our kitchen sink, in coordination with our bathroom sink, refused to drain. No amount of plunging, baking-soda-and-vinegar-elixirs, pipe-removal, coaxing or cursing…made any difference. To taunt us, black stinky muck arose from the depths. There was nothing to be done but call the plumber who listened to our tale-of-whoa! and recommended that we skip his services and call the drain guy.

There’s a nice metaphor at play in our tragic tale. First, after the drain guy successfully cleared our pipes (the blockage was deep in the system), we decided that, just like our pipes, we also had a deep blockage that required clearing. The pipe-clog not only stopped the drains from working, it also stopped us from working – something we desperately needed to do. Take a break. Think about something else for awhile. Clear our minds.

Yesterday on our hike I asked Kerri what she was thinking about and she replied, “Nothing really. My mind is just wandering.” There could be no better answer. An un-fixated mind. Thought-flow with no blockage. Spaciousness.

The computer. The car. The drains. Three modes of movement, together locking up and inhibiting our movement. They made us slow down. They made us stop. They made us hyper-aware and appreciative of our easy-life and how quickly it can evaporate.

Each morning since the drain guy came, we run to the bathroom sink and turn on the water. Full blast. “It’s draining!” we cheer. Then, we race to the kitchen. “Look!” we high-five in celebration of successful drainage. Something so simple. Something so completely taken for granted. But, for a few glorious days, before the gratitude disappears into the easy-life-expectation, we will celebrate the flow of water, the light at the flick of switch, the turn of a key that easily sparks the heart of LittleBabyScion into life. Each time, we will look at each other and sing with gratitude, ‘It works!”

read Kerri’s blogpost about SINKS

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A Double Sign of Hope [David’s blog on Two Artists Tuesday]

Since they do not show-up every year, we take it as a sign of hope when a frog suddenly appears in our tiny pond. It’s late in the season so we thought this summer was a no-frog-year. And then, on Thursday, the final night of the DNC, as I finished scrubbing and refilling our bird bath, I heard the tell-tale splash. I turned and saw it nestled on a rock just beneath the water line.

“We have a frog!” I whispered to Kerri. She gasped, grabbed her camera and hurriedly tip-toed to the pond.

A sign of hope.

It is a hallmark of our relationship that we look for – that we assign and actively celebrate – signs of hope. Deer on the trail? “That’s a good sign!” The brilliant sunset on the day of our wedding? “We’ve been given a remarkable gift – a sign!” A dragonfly landing on our shoulder, a hawk that flies across our path, the owl that calls in the night, the turtle that meets us on the trail, our car that against all odds gets us home…Messengers of hope. Spirit lifters.

We find what we seek.

We named our frog DeeNCee Lullabaloo. DeeNCee came on the night that Kamala Harris accepted her party’s nomination for president. A spirit lifter. A trailblazer. A bright light. A sign of hope and joy arising from a very dark night. So, DNC. DeeNCee. The surname Lullabaloo is a moniker marking this time we have chosen to inhabit, to create and embrace: the lull. I laughed aloud when this morning a quote by Georgia O’Keeffe crossed my screen: I have done nothing all summer but wait for myself to be myself again.” A perfect description of the lull. Lullabaloo.

DeeNCee Lullabaloo. Jumping out of nowhere. A double sign of hope.

read Kerri’s blogpost about DeeNCee

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Responsible Opposition [David’s blog on KS Friday]

Among the many things our city does well is the design and maintenance of the gardens in the parks. Colorful and well-tended, carefully planned beds of flowers. My favorite plots juxtapose vibrant, tender petals that surround sturdy broad red banana trees. The beauty found in opposition. Contrast.

Horatio said that he was worried for the democrats. “They have no responsible opposition,” he said. The operative word in his sentiment is “responsible.” As we all know, there is no lack of opposition yet the former GOP has lapsed into a low-bar, name-calling, opposition-for-opposition-sake; it stunts the growth for all involved. It’s the Achilles Heel of the red-hat-cult. When opposition is the end-goal there is no need for ideas or solutions, no service to a greater good, no vision for the future. There is no ethic. There is no lie-too-far to resurrect some made-up-past-glory-fantasy. Opposition-for-opposition sake has only one aim: to attain and keep power.

And then what?

Maintaining power-for-the-sake-of-power is a well-known path worn into history by the likes of Stalin and Hitler. Pol Pot. Mussolini. Putin. Kim Jung Un. The path ultimately – and always – leads to the killing fields. Absolute power is never a worthy or sustainable reason-for-governing and always, in the end, eats its own people. Opposition-for-the-sake-of-opposition, once in power, eliminates by any means all other points-of-view. It silences any voice of responsible opposition. Read Project 2025 for a step-by-step blueprint on how to reduce a two-party democratic republic into a single party authoritarian state.

A healthy two-party system – democracy – is designed to bring opposing ideas to the table for debate and discussion. The point is not opposition. The point is agreement. Compromise in service to the greater good. Checks and balances. The point, at its best, is like the gardens I so appreciate, vibrant juxtaposition, carefully planned and respectfully maintained.

Democracy is made beautiful through responsible opposition. It’s a two-party system. Democracy disappears without it.

Our garden needs tending, a task for which we are all responsible. Our garden already has a great plan. It’s called The Constitution. Opposition-for-the-sake-of-opposition is like an invasive weed. This red-hat-weed will not just go away. It’s our job – all of us – to act, to call it out, to vote, to make certain the weed is pulled for good (pulled for the public good) and that the two party system, with an ethical GOP, dedicated to the rigorous and worthy task of finding agreement through responsible opposition, is restored to the service of our greater garden.

Figure It Out on the album Right Now © 2010 Kerri Sherwood

Kerri’s albums are available on iTunes and streaming on Pandora and iHeart Radio

read Kerri’s blog about RED BANANA TREES

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Out Of The Many [David’s blog on DR Thursday]

Among other things, Wade Davis is an ethnobotanist, studying how people – cultures – use plants for food, medicines, dyes…in hunting and in ceremonies. The study of plants as living symbols. In a different life, in another path, I would have followed him around attempting to know-what-he-knows. Mythology beyond the abstraction.

For us, this week has become about the coneflower. Earlier in the week I wrote about its symbolism: strength, vitality, healing energy… The color of the coneflower accents different attributes. Orange evokes vitality and enthusiasm. Purple accents strength. Yellow, acceptance and perseverance.

I thought of Wade Davis because his study has taken him to indigenous cultures who live their symbology, their mythology is visceral, a deep-seated guide for how to conduct their lives. For them, the attributes of the plant are not curious abstractions, something to be found in a Wiki or a book or a religious tome. It is ancestral. Lived everyday. He writes beautifully about what he has experienced.

I wanted to know what a coneflower represents so I looked it up. It is not integrated into my being, pervasive to my clan and has not been passed to me by my elders. I want to identify with it so I write myself into the story. I write us into its meaning. It is, for us, new. We will give it roots, make it conscious by planting it in our symbolic garden.

As a society, many of our symbols are unconscious. It is a happy and fortuitous accident that the Olympic Games are happening in the midst of the ugly divisive rhetoric coming from the right in our political campaign. Each day I look at the athletes from the United States and I see a beautiful living symbol of our nation as it really is: diversity, a celebration of ethnicity – united under a single flag. It is, I believe, what our flag – our symbol – represents. Out of many, one.

This flag is one of our few conscious symbols. E pluribus unum is our tradition. It is our intention, written into our founding. It is our ancestry and inheritance. We are the many, united as one. It is what we strive to achieve. Our athletes represent us; they represent who we are beyond the abstraction.

The red hats and their authoritarian leader would have us understand our symbol differently. You can hear it in their language, placing the accent on racial division. Their obsession with degradation, their glee at name-calling, their unwavering commitment to a victim narrative…exposes a dedication to subverting the humanity of those that do not look or think like them. They would have the flag symbolize white nationalism, a radical uprooting of its meaning. Their notion of “one” rejects the many. It is, quite literally, flipping the symbol upside-down (as was proudly flown over the house of Justice Samual Alito).

They are not hiding their intention. They are counting on us to misconstrue or willingly discard the meaning of our sacred symbol.

Look at the athletes representing the USA. Take a walk in the park on the 4th of July and look at the people sharing the celebration in the commons. They are US. Rich in diversity. United.

Acceptance. Perseverance. Strength. Borne of the many, striving to be one.

read Kerri’s blog about CONEFLOWERS

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I Am Like That [David’s blog on Two Artists Tuesday]

She saw it in the shop on the river road and fell in love with it. A coneflower sculpture. Asymmetrical. Beautiful in its imperfection. It came home with us and immediately found its place in our garden. Each morning as I look out the kitchen window, waiting for the coffee to brew, I recognize that it is the perfect symbol for us.

A coneflower is a symbol of strength, joy, resilience, endurance, and optimism. Perseverance. Healing. Prosperity. That’s quite a list!

Most symbols are many-layered yet point in a singular direction.

One of the few choices we actually have in life is which symbols we choose to embrace. To choose or align with a symbol is to say, “I am like that.” The symbol becomes both a description of the path already walked and a guide-star for choices to come.

Kerri fell in love with the coneflower. She wasn’t thinking about symbols. I was. And I couldn’t imagine a better symbol for her – for us – for the landscape we’ve just traversed and for where we intend to go.

read Kerri’s blogpost about THE CONEFLOWER

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Walk In Joy [David’s blog on KS Friday]

Imagine our surprise when we saw the street was wearing a name tag. Grace. I wondered if the street chose her name or was it given? Was she tired of being referred to as a number? Third Ave. Did she want the world to know her name?

I found the street’s choice of name to be hopeful, an aspiration for how she wished to be in the world. She intended to be courteous. Elegant. Or perhaps her chosen/given name is a desire for those who travel along her way. Polite. Moving with ease through life. Hers is a wish for humanity.

Imagine if the road we choose to walk each day could infuse us with the attributes of its name! I would stroll on a road named Grace every single day! I would make time to take a walk on Hope. I’ll bet Peace would get a lot of traffic.

Imagine if we, like Grace, brought to the street the attributes we desired to infuse into the world. Light heart. Good humor. Civility. Imagine putting it on a name tag for all to see. “Thoughtfulness.” Or, “Generosity.” “Courtesy.” Imagine walking in this world with name-tag-intention. A declaration of goodness. An exercise in actively creating the world we desire to inhabit. “Today I am empathy.”

In my children’s book mentality, what we bring to the road is what the road gifts back to us. Hope. Grace. Peace. Generosity. Kindness. Is it so far-fetched?

Joy is right in front of us… if we choose it…if we choose to vote for it…vote for her.

GRACE on the album RIGHT NOW © 2010 Kerri Sherwood

JOY on the album JOY: A CHRISTMAS ALBUM © 2004 Kerri Sherwood

Kerri’s albums are available on iTunes and streaming on Pandora and iHeart Radio

read Kerri’s blogpost on GRACE

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Steep! [David’s blog on Not So Flawed Wednesday]

“The beginning of love is the will to let those we love be perfectly themselves, the resolution not to twist them to fit our own image.” ~ Thomas Merton, The Way of Chuang Tzu

After I finish reading my latest book, The Denial of Death by Ernest Becker, I have decided to steep myself in life-affirming reading, the likes of John O’Donohue, Philip Gulley, Pema Chödrön, Mary Oliver, Krishnamurti, Rilke, Rumi, Thomas Merton…I meditate on what I read -whether I want to or not – and in our angry chaotic times I’m feeling the need to wrap myself in the warmth of poets and other lovers of life. People who’ve transcended their small lives and looked into deeper space. I will begin my steeping with Thomas Merton’s The Way of Chuang Tzu – a Catholic Monk translating the voice of the Tao.

I read the quote above and wanted to alter it slightly: “The beginning of self-love is the will to let ourselves be perfectly who we are, the resolution not to twist ourselves to fit into another’s image of who we are supposed-to-be.”

The real challenge in letting ourselves be perfectly who we are is that most of us have no idea who we are. Few of us fit into a box called “me.” Who we are is dynamic and ever-changing. Self-discovery is a life-long affair and we are most fortunate if it is a life-long love affair.

Kerri says that we don’t really-really change as we move through life, we just become more of who we are. The outer layers of illusion and social concoction drop off until the core is revealed. I don’t know if I agree but I love the image. And, I confess that these past few years have felt like a ferocious layer-stripping. If she is right then I have to be…we have to be…close to the core.

In the wake of the layer-stripping I’m finding that the simple things in this life bring me great satisfaction. We found the old sun-tea jug in the cupboard. With the mint growing in the yard and slice or two of lemon, each day we smile and drink the summer sun from a jelly jar. We tell stories of sun-tea from the past.

It’s the sensual things, like the taste of tea brewed from the sun. On a hot humid day, the sudden shift of cool wind off the lake. The sound of cicadas. Fireflies. Laughter at dinner. The taste of good wine. The stuff of poets. The witnesses of “the eternal now.”

It’s as simple as sun tea, this desire to steep my thoughts in the awe-of-life (as opposed to the awful). And, as the ancient saying goes, as I continue the quest to discover myself: where I place my thoughts my life-energy will follow.

read Kerri’s blog about SUN TEA

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Pioneers [David’s blog on KS Friday]

Never in my wildest dreams did the younger version of me imagine that I would someday research fun facts about wildflowers. But, because Kerri has a camera attached to her right hand and because we walk trails surrounded by meadows and because we use many of Kerri’s photos as prompts for our Melange, wildflowers and not-so-wild flowers have caught my attention.

Inevitably, one tidbit of information captures my imagination and today’s tidbit about Daisy Fleabane is this: it’s considered a pioneer species which means it is among the first plants to move into an area that has been disturbed – by natural disasters like fire or man-made like plowing or construction. They improve the ecosystem by accumulating nutrients and breaking up compacted soil, opening the way for other less hardy species to follow. Sub tidbit: because they are the first, some people treat pioneer species as weeds, invaders.

It is never easy to be the first. Ask Rosa Parks or Jackie Robinson.

Ask Barack. Ask Kamala.

People who know what they are doing, people attempting to restore health to devastated ecosystems, purposefully introduce pioneer species into a devastated landscape. They know the value of the pioneer in preparing the foundation for healing, breaking up hard-packed-minds and closed-angry-hearts. They know the necessity of the first, of the pioneer, to rehabilitate and nurture a healthy, unified ecosystem.

Ask Joe.

Grateful on the album AS IT IS © 2004 Kerri Sherwood

Kerri’s albums are available on iTunes and streaming on Pandora and iHeart Radio

Bonus and fitting for new beginnings. This is the song Kerri wrote and performed for our wedding. It makes me cry every time I hear it:

And Now © 2015 Kerri Sherwood

read Kerri’s blogpost about DAISY FLEABANE

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Connected As The Cattails [David’s blog on Not So Flawed Wednesday]

I read that cattails have been useful to humans for as long as…there have been humans. They are edible. Medicinal. Weave-able into baskets or clothing… The tidbit of information that I found most interesting is, that when harvesting them, it is best to leave the cattails on the perimeter intact. They are different than the cattails in the center. They serve a specific purpose facilitating the interdependent health and well-being of the cattail community. It begs an as-yet unanswerable plant-question: Do they know? How do they know?

“Knowing” implies consciousness. If you want to jump down an interesting rabbit hole, the “debate” surrounding plant consciousness is worthy of your time. There are plenty of studies with plenty of interpretations. Be forewarned: this rabbit hole may challenge the notion that we human-beings are above it all. It may suggest that we are much more interdependent than we believe.

Consciousness: the state of being awake and aware of one’s surroundings.

The consciousness of interdependence. It is what the red hats fear the most. The loss of privilege. Popping the illusion of elite-exclusion. Not being above it all.

We live in a vibrant diverse nation. A nation of immigrants. A place where people from different cultural backgrounds have for centuries mixed together, worked together, fought together, loved together, to grow into a more perfect union. In this nation, the ideal, the intention, is to embrace differences. Not to stratify them. We are above all an intentional crossroads, a meeting place of the many, optimal for the sharing of new ideas borne from divergent perspectives. A celebration of interconnected diversity.

Interdependence. We are as deeply connected as the cattails. Like the cattails, our network of connection may not be readily visible on the surface but our very survival is reliant on each varied other. Thriving is the result of healthy, conscious interdependence.

read Kerri’s blogpost about CATTAILS

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