What Goes Around [David’s blog on Merely A Thought Monday]

Posted on November 3, 2025 by davidrobinsoncreative

“May you dwell in your heart. May you be free from suffering. May you be healed. May you be at peace.” ~ Buddhist Prayer

I’ve always appreciated this Buddhist prayer because it is inclusive and expansive. The prayer is repeated several times, each time with a change of the pronoun. For instance, it begins with “I”; “May I dwell in my heart…” From the center of “I”, the prayer moves outward as a prayer for the closest “other”; “May Kerri dwell in her heart…” And, then, again, moving outward, “May Dwight dwell in his heart…” and on and on, expanding and including until the outermost ring of the circle is reached, “May all people dwell in their heart…”

And then, the prayer continues, only now it pulls the heart of humanity back toward – and finally arriving at, “May I dwell in my heart. May I be free from suffering. May I be healed. May I be at peace.”

The message of the prayer cycle is explicit: outward peace on earth is the expression of inner peace within each individual.

Horatio echoed Kerri’s belief when he said that all religions can be boiled down to this phrase: be kind. Outward kindness to others is the expression of inner kindness to the self.

I’ve been pondering the root of deep division ripping apart our nation. It seems so simple. As Horatio reminded me, there are two philosophies at loggerheads. “Every man for himself” versus “I am my brother’s/sister’s keeper.” If you live in an “every man for himself” mindset then there is no need for inclusion or expansion. Exploitation is the goal and hoarding is the and the best you can do. We are witness to this philosophy: gold leaf and ballrooms while many in the nation starve. There is no need for heart or peace.

We are also witness to the other philosophy, those who care for the well-being of their neighbors: people marching in protest of the daily abuse power, people racing into the streets to protect their neighbors from ICE, people giving to food banks…

Which world would we rather live in? Democracy is fundamentally the Buddhist prayer. Of The People. Fascism is the opposite: a dictatorial leader using the military, suppressing opposition. No peace. No prayer.

Absolute power or governance by the people? Heart prayer or no heart? Personal gain through the intentional infliction of suffering or striving for peace and prosperity for all? Which will we choose?

In either case, as the old saying goes, “As within, so without.” Or, said another way, “What goes around, comes around.”

read Kerri’s blogpost about PEACE

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The Imaginary Top [David’s blog on Two Artists Tuesday]

Posted on August 19, 2025 by davidrobinsoncreative

This gorgeous flower that derives its name from the Greek kosmos was lying on the sidewalk. The recent incessant heat and rain and humidity had wrestled it to the ground. It was down but not defeated.

Cosmos. Another name for the vast universe and its intrinsic order. Lately on our little planet the order of the universe seems to have lost its mooring. Actually, the flora and fauna seem to still be hitched to natural cycles and patterns, it’s we-the-human-beings that have slipped away from the dock of reason.

She knelt on the ground to take the picture. “They are beautiful,” she said. From a distance it must have looked like she was bowing to the cosmos. The image and word play tickled me. I thought, “We human-beings would do ourselves a favor if we were humble and occasionally bowed to the Cosmos.” We definitely occupy a place in the order, but rather than seeing ourselves as interconnected, we invent hierarchies and place ourselves at the pinnacle of importance. We give ourselves the blue ribbon. A few more years of thousand-year storms might wake us up but I doubt it. We like believing we are at the top. We like believing that there actually is a top to be occupied – and therein lies our dis-ease. Believing that we are at the top permits the delusion that we are somehow disconnected from the rest of the Cosmos. It gives us permission to believe that everything is a resource for our use and pleasure.

That, and, as they say, hierarchies beget hierarchies. We imagine an order to the vast Cosmos in which there are winners and losers. We turn our hierarchies on each other.

Of course, we are capable of imagining a different type of order. It’s why we have stories of messiahs and buddhas. They are meant to point the way out of our delusion and toward the actual order of the Cosmos. No hierarchy. Non-separation. Illumination and brother’s keeper. A return to the garden to discover the Tree of Everlasting Life otherwise known as unity. Those wacky sages are meant to help us see beyond our illusion, beyond our bloody scramble for the imaginary top.

After the flower photo op, we were careful to step over the cosmos-on-the-sidewalk. The cosmos were a good reminder in this time of madness run amok: reason, ethic, moral compass, compassion, service, kindness…may be down, but they are certainly not defeated. In the end, they are what give order to our cosmos

read Kerri’s blogpost about COSMOS

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Mutually [David’s blog on Flawed Wednesday]

Posted on April 30, 2025 by davidrobinsoncreative

“Objects are such only with respect to other objects, they are nodes where bridges meet. The world is a perspectival game, a play of mirrors that exist only as reflections of and in each other.” ~ Carlo Rovelli via The Marginalian, April 27, 2025

The tree stands beyond our back fence, its limbs spiral and twist, sculpted by time and the force of the winds roaring off the lake. Looking at her photograph, a silhouette against an evening blue sky, I remarked, “It’s a Jackson Pollock painting.” She looked again at her photograph through the lens of my remark, nodding.

Nature sculpts the tree that catches the photographer’s eye, her photograph invokes images of a drip painting. “…interaction is the fundamental reality of the universe, that there are no entities as such…”

We do ourselves a great disservice ignoring interconnection in service to our separation.

It’s human: we need to make sense of things so we compartmentalize. We object-ify, detaching tree from time and wind from photographer, assigning all to discrete little box-identities, placing emphasis on the noun rather than on the interplay, the intertwining verb. In our minds we stop the motion, sever interrelationship into distinct pieces, so that we might convince ourselves that we have a grasp on “reality”. In creating objective “reality” we blind ourselves to the greater mutuality.

Science dissected the world-body into parts which led to the smallest objective part, called a quantum, and discovered it’s a slippery devil, energy, that can only be described subjectively. It can only be known through its relationships. Mutuality.

I’ve yet to hear an adequate definition of the word “woke”. Maga world flings it liberally and with sharp derision to describe all manner of “progressive” ideals, yet stutters when asked what it means. It’s an umbrella term, a catch-all, like the grainy photograph of the Loch Ness monster, shaky proof of something to be feared but mostly unknown. In fox land, this Loch Ness monster is called “socialism”.

To Maga world I offer this definition of Woke: greater mutuality. Woke, like a quantum, cannot be objectified just as compassion cannot be fully defined. It can be experienced. It is an energy, connective tissue.

Woke flies the flag of equality. Woke understands that the suspension of due process for any single person is the suspension of due process for all people. Woke understands that prosperity reserved for the few means poverty for the many. Woke intends shared prosperity, an equal playing field, helping hands. “Float all boats” is a Woke ideology. Woke is not a hand-out, it is a help-up. A moral center – also known as mutuality – is Woke; we can be our brothers’ and sisters’ keeper or we can be their persecutor. Keeper or persecutor: both describe a kind of relationship.

Woke is what defines Maga just as Maga is now clarifying Woke. Maga desires separation. It strives for elevation above others; legislated privilege. Woke desires equality. It strives for a more perfect union: legislated inclusion. The promise of possibility.

We do ourselves a great disservice: we are neither red nor blue. We are not conservative nor progressive. We are not Woke or Maga. Those terms are boxes that ignore the fundamental truth of our – or any – nation. We are interconnected. We are a relationship.

Remove environmental protections and all of the air we breathe and the water we drink will be polluted. Remove election watchdogs and all of our elections will be corrupted. Remove a commitment to truth and lies will define us and pull us apart.

After all, Maga is a made-up-media term just as is Woke. They are boxes meant to give us an enemy, the illusion of separation.

Democracy is not a “thing”, an object. It is a movement, a quantum. We know it by our interactions as defined in our Constitution. We know it as a place where bridges meet. Where people from many places come together.

Whether Maga or Woke, we will feel the loss of democracy equally just as we feel the disintegration of our values, our shared narrative, our aspiration for justice-for-all; mutually.

read Kerri’s blogpost about THE TREE

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Perhaps [David’s blog on DR Thursday]

Posted on January 16, 2025 by davidrobinsoncreative

It snowed last night. The temperatures have plummeted so this morning we are writing from the raft buried deep beneath a warming quilt. Dogga is fast asleep at our feet. These days he groans when he moves. His old bones, like mine, are not fond of the freeze.

Emotionally, this winter seems colder than most.

When I turned out the light on election night, knowing the result, my last thought before sleeping was, “The nation is now officially rend in two.” Even unplugged from the news and most of social media I am daily reminded of the reasons for the rupture. Today, responding to the terrible fires in L.A. someone out there – on the other side of the split – commented that, “They have no one but themselves to blame. They were warned what could happen if they didn’t rake their forests…” Cold heart, vacant mind. Empty soul.

A dear one recently suggested that it is time to focus on healing. She is wise and yet, each day I ask myself where we might begin to bridge the crevasse when a fortress of nonsense voids even the most basic compassion within those standing on the other side of the line.

Breck, our sweet aspen tree, serves as a hope-giver. She came home with us from Colorado and lived comfortably in a pot for the first few years of her life in Wisconsin. After we planted her she almost died. In fact, I thought she was already gone. After a replanting and a wish and a prayer, she pulled a Lazarus and managed to bud on her lower limbs. Now, a few years later, she is healthy and happy and growing like a weed.

We are without doubt moving into and through a national wasteland. As mythology instructs, the more we try to fix it, the worse it will become. It is beyond fixing. Shattering the facade is, in fact, a necessary part of leaving the wasteland behind. I suspect that we are now seeing what has always been there and there is not a bandage big enough or medicine potent enough to deal with the infection. It must burn itself out. It might very well kill the nation-body.

Absent of fixing, what remains is choosing. Each day, faced with yet-another-example of heartless-hogwash, I become more clear on what I value, more certain of what I believe. Perhaps the healing my friend suggests is in the act of choosing. In clarity, we each choose who we want to be.

Here’s what I know: if fire took the home and life possessions of that taunting-someone-out-there, I would reach, I would choose to help them. I would not choose to taunt them or blame them. I would not withhold aid from them. I would not politicize their pain. I would reach. And, I hope, when the hot fire of the incoming malfeasance burns through their fortress of nonsense, when bereft, they will recover their senses and regain their compassion. Perhaps their hearts will start beating again. Perhaps their minds will re-engage. Perhaps.

Perhaps then they will be capable of reaching back and the nation, like Breck, will take root in better soil, pull a Lazarus – and live to see another -healthier – day.

from the archives: Angel?

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read Kerri’s blogpost about BRECK

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An End Thought [David’s blog on Merely A Thought Monday]

Posted on December 2, 2024 by davidrobinsoncreative

“I will not win all of my battles and neither will you. But if we do our best with intelligence, compassion and love, that will be enough – it has to be enough. And, that way, though each outcome may not be what we wanted or hoped for, at least each day we can be proud of who we are.” ~ Elizabeth Glaser

As we continue our dedicated house-clean and rearranging-fest, part of our campaign of distraction from the ugly turn of events in our nation, we found this framed quote in a closet. We removed the quote from its frame and put it in a special spot. The frame is en route to Goodwill.

We kept the quote because it exactly identifies the source of our discord. “…if we do our best with intelligence, compassion and love, that will be enough…” As a nation, we did not do our best. Compassion and love are nowhere visible in the despot-wanna-be and his maga-cult. And as for intelligence…well, I’ve written enough on that score. Intelligence fled the nation, red-faced with embarrassment.

The outcome of the election was most certainly not what we wanted or hoped for – and that is not the heart-of-the-matter. The issue is this: as my dear friend MM wrote following the election, “This is the first time in my life that I’m ashamed to be an American.” Here, here.

We did not do our best. In fact, we forwarded the worst. Sans compassion. Sans love. Sans intelligence. A rapist. A sexual predator. A felon. A reality tv figure, six-times bankrupt – posing as a businessman. Amoral. A racist. A blatant grifter. And demonstrably in mental decline.

Joan taught us a new word: Kakistocracy: government by the least suitable or competent citizens of a state. One need only take a look at the cabinet appointments. “A junk drawer,” as someone quipped. Another wrote, “It’s a clown car.” It’s cringe-worthy.

We bumped into the other Joan at the store. She shared that her “philosophical friends” suggested that nations must go through periods like this in order to grow, a national splitting-of-the-tree-bark. I hope that is the case but, honestly, I don’t think it is. I don’t think Joan believed it either.

Like us, she’s scratching the scorched commons for understanding, wondering what happened to the intelligence, love, and compassion of many in her community; her neighbors, family and friends. Like us, mortified by the people who voted for hate, who turned a blind eye to indecency and all that the tyrant and his budding oligarchs represent – she does not want in-any-way to be included in any form of “we”.

Kerri played this brief instagram video while I was wrestling with an end-thought. This says it all [close the “see more” pop up and make sure to unmute the sound]

read Kerri’s blogpost about WITH OR WITHOUT

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Look Around [David’s blog on Merely A Thought Monday]

Posted on September 9, 2024 by davidrobinsoncreative

Strolling on the path through the park, we followed the shoreline. Just at the spot where the path meets the marina, we found an appeal chalked on the walkway: be good people. As Kerri snapped a photo, I wondered who wrote it. Who felt compelled to bring their chalk to the park and petition goodness from passers-by? I wondered if they’d had their fill of bad examples of humanity, snapped-up their chalk, and headed to the original location of social media, the public square.

Or, perhaps it was not a plea but was their wish for us. “My wish for you is to be good people.” Why, on this day, did they feel compelled to make their wish visible?

There are many ideas, definitions and word associations of goodness yet they are bound together by a single notion-thread: consider first the needs of others. Brothers/Sisters keeper. “Good people” reach their hand to assist others.

I gathered a few words used to characterize “good people”: Empathy. Consideration. Accountability. Compassion. Kindness. Each word, each characteristic, is other-people-focused. “How can I help?” Share, because there is plenty-enough for all.

As Kerri took a picture of the message I jumped into a memory, a time of desperation. Some thought-angel dinged my noggin and sent me out into the city to witness acts of kindness. As I have previously written, I saw generosity everywhere I looked. People being good in small ways and large. Opening doors. Paying for a stranger’s cup of coffee. Holding up traffic so a senior could safely cross the street. Asking the bus driver to “Wait a second!” – someone was racing to catch the bus. A second made all the difference for someone.

Those good people, everyday people doing everyday things, buoyed me, filled me with hope and light. If I’d had chalk in my pocket on that day I might have scribbled on the sidewalk, “Good people are everywhere! Look around!” I saw them because I decided to look for them.

If I’d had chalk in my pocket, after Kerri was finished with her photograph, I’d have written a message for the “Be good people” writer: “Thanks for the reminder. See good people”.

They are everywhere.

read Kerri’s blogpost about BE GOOD PEOPLE

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Create Ease [David’s blog on Not So Flawed Wednesday]

Posted on August 23, 2023 by davidrobinsoncreative

Reading The Marginalian this morning I was taken by these two quotes:

“The whole process of nature is an integrated process of immense complexity, and it’s really impossible to tell whether anything that happens in it is good or bad.” (Alan Watts)

“…learning not to think in terms of gain or loss.” ~ The Marginalian, August 16, 2023.

It came at the right moment. There was a river of anxiety running through our house. I opened the newsletter because the title was Seneca on the Antidote to Anxiety. I needed an antidote. Actually, I needed to be reminded of what I already know.

Most of our monsters are invented. Most of our stresses are made-up. What we fear rarely happens. Such is the power of the human imagination. We are capable of making ourselves sick with make-believe, ill with assumptions, fearful by assigning meaning to an experience before it actually happens.

We fret. We worry. We brood. We lose sleep. We get worked up. We torture ourselves with our untethered thoughts and wild-imaginings. It’s the heart of my argument to all people who’ve labeled themselves as “not creative”. We are so abundantly creative that it hurts. Check your inner monologue. It is a riot of creativity! A stampede of wild-horses!

We are capable of imagining ease rather than angst. We are capable of creating love rather than hate. It’s true, but creating ease, creating love, first requires a complete surrender of black-and-white thinking. Good or bad, gain or loss, better or worse…control fantasies, all. Creating ease is borne of an understanding that every experience – every single experience – has many possible interpretations. And, fully comprehending that you are the creator of the meaning you make. And, most of all, recognizing that making meaning of an experience is best done after it happens, somewhere down the road. I guarantee, no matter the meaning made today, it will change again and again over time. Creating ease.

Side note: compassion for self and others lives on this non-binary road.

Reminders of what I already know.

I loved the sunflowers when we placed them on the table. They were a gift and were fresh from the farmer’s market. I thought I might like to paint them, which is unusual for me. A few days later, the sunflowers bowed their heads and I found them more compelling. They seemed like gentle beings in a posture of reverence (how’s that for imagination!). Both Kerri and I raced for our cameras.

Were they more beautiful or less? And, isn’t that the exact wrong question to ask?

read Kerri’s blogpost about SUNFLOWER BOW

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Fill The Space With Goodness [on Two Artists Tuesday]

Posted on July 18, 2023 by davidrobinsoncreative

When I was learning to be on a stage there was a phrase I particularly appreciated: fill the space. There was also a companion question that seemed to be more important: what are you bringing to the space?

The assumption beneath both the phrase and the question is that you have a profound impact on your world. Not in abstraction. You are an active participant in creating it. After all, the space is shared, co-created. What do you intend to bring to the shared space? Are you going to “take” energy from the shared space (it’s all about me) or are you going to “bring” energy to the shared space (we are in this together). I understand this choice to be the direction of intention. It’s the origin story behind the name of this blog. A performers job is to bring good energy and light to the shared space, to unify it. To grow the goodness.

I think that’s why Kerri and I are attracted to prayer flags. The mantras on the flags are blown by the wind to fill all the space of the world with good will and compassion. Fill the space with goodness to the benefit of all. A straightforward yet profound intention.

It seems like such a simple thing, doesn’t it? Intend to bring good energy to the space that is shared by all. And, to us, it seems like the number one imperative of our times. In this me-me-me era, rife with “taking” energy from the space, it’s crucial to help reverse the tide.

She was holding black and white bandanas and I saw the thought hit her. She turned and asked, “Do you think it’s a good idea to make our own prayer flags?”

“Absolutely.” I said. “Why not? This world could use all the good intention that we can muster.”

All the world’s a stage, after all.

read Kerri’s blogpost about PRAYER FLAGS

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Define It [on KS Friday]

Posted on July 7, 2023 by davidrobinsoncreative

“Dangerously soft-hearted. Derogatory. Informal.” Thus, the great book of words begins its definition of Bleeding heart. It’s no wonder we’re value-confused. Poke around the word “compassionate” and you’ll find a string of synonyms that are soft-hearted without the informal-derogatory in the mix: sympathetic, pitying, caring, understanding, empathetic…

Qualities to be admired.

If I care for you, if I feel your pain, if I consider your feelings, if I make space for your grief, if I feel sadness for your suffering…am I dangerously-soft-hearted or caring? The associated verb that pops up again and again is “to feel”. The portal to standing in another person’s shoes is through feeling.

We caution our little tykes not to let their emotions cloud their judgments. It’s good advice when understood that emotion…feelings…are necessary to arrive at sound judgement. Mind and heart are indivisible dance partners. Separating the two is a recipe for psychosis. And meanness.

Does compassion cloud or clarify? In the Christian tradition a bleeding heart, the bleeding heart, is the spirit that nourishes. “The salvation of humanity.”

Empathy is an epicenter of artistry. Love is a word of the heart, soft or otherwise.

It’s quite a mix of meanings! I suppose that’s why the wise advice found in all wisdom traditions is to find the middle way. “Balance” as a Buddhist might recommend. “Get neutral” as divemaster Terry instructed. Parcival; pierce the veil with the arrow aimed straight through the middle. There, the grail is found.

A bleeding heart is a plant, too. Beautiful and it always evokes a sweet sigh from Kerri. Life giving. Instant presence. Now, isn’t that an apt example of a spirit that nourishes? Try to find that in a dictionary!

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FREEFALLIN’ IN LOVE © 2002 kerri sherwood, sisu music productions inc. (Note: this is not jazz, nor does rumblefish own any copyright or publishing rights to this song).

read Kerri’s blogpost about BLEEDING HEARTS

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Take Pride [on Two Artists Tuesday]

Posted on June 13, 2023 by davidrobinsoncreative

This is Pride month and, for myself, to the the brilliant rainbow flag I’m adding a metaphor: the circle.

The circle is a universal symbol and that is precisely the point. Ubiquitous. Common. Applicable to all.

Google the metaphoric meanings of a circle and you’ll discover simple, nonpareil aspirations. “The circle is both an image and metaphor of completeness and equality. There is both protection and democracy within its confines as people face each other without visual hierarchy.”

Completeness and equality. I rolled these words around a bit. Celebrations like Pride are how we strive to complete the dream of equality. Or, better: how the dream of equality strives to fulfill our founding intention. It’s written in our Declaration of Independence. We hold these truths to be self-evident.

Protection is a word but in practice it is among the deepest of human necessities. Protection is the gift of equal inclusion. Every single point on the circle is necessary; “…without visual hierarchy”. Inclusion has recently been made a tug-of-war term, a specter of the scary monster, Woke, but beyond the ruckus it is not an abstract highbrow concept. Not really. It’s a fundamental: a community that cares for its own. In tribal communities being cast-out is a fate worse than death. An outcast is never safe. Safety-for-all is among the aspirations of Pride. To come safely home. One need not be woke to grasp the concept. Compassion for others requires very little sophistication to grok.

And so, for me, I take Pride in the circle. That which leads back to itself, the original source. Our oneness. Our deepest humanity. Wholeness. Original perfection. Timeless. All the colors of the rainbow.

read Kerri’s blogpost about THE CIRCLE

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