Circulate The Good [David’s blog on Merely A Thought Monday]

The imaginary editorial board at Melange International is becoming impatient with me. They think that I have over-complicated the given assignment. What is so complex about focusing on the good?

To begin, I’d be a hypocrite to claim that I only focus on the good. I do not.

A quick read of my blog since inauguration day will provide ample evidence of my capacity to focus on the negative though I believe it is important, when the house is on fire, to alert others of the fire, to call out escape routes. It’s also helpful to try and put out the fire. Is that or is that not a focus on the good?

Isn’t it a relevant question – a good question – to ask, “Where can we focus our eyes and our energies to beat back and put out this fascist fire?” Sometimes a focus on the good seems dark.

Focus is a powerful thing. The power of focus is more than a cliché uttered by contemporary motivational speakers. It’s an age-old-concept. We will find what we seek. People who make gratitude a practice will end each day with a bucket of gratitude. People who make blaming a practice will end each day with a bucket of blame. People who make division their focus will live in – or more accurately – create divisive communities. People who make inclusion their focus will create inclusive supportive communities. People who focus on democracy will create (protect) democracy.

And then there’s the question, “To whom will we give our focus?” Our media makes it far easier to focus on The Arsonist. Ratings do not favor a focus on the Fire-fighters.

We are inundated with so many daily outrages that we are having a challenge sustaining a serious focus. Where do we focus with ICE kidnapping people off the streets, extrajudicial murders in the Caribbean, presidential grift, an inept and mostly absent congress, a Supreme Court that ignores the Constitution to expand presidential powers, the dismantling of education, collapse of healthcare, government protection of pedophiles…the dismantling of democracy. Sometimes it is hard to sustain a focus on the good through the forest of daily atrocity. It takes some effort, some dedication, to sustain a focus on the good.

Circulating the good is, of course, a team sport. It’s easier to sustain a focus on the good when surrounded by others who have the same dedication.

We check-in each night with Carl Blanchet. Last year he completed a hike of the Pacific Crest Trail (2650 miles) in less than 90 days. It was a personal challenge and a titanic effort. This year, he’s back again though this time he’s going slow. He’s enjoying the hike. We were drawn to follow him because of his positivity. Even in the worst circumstance, when confronted by an impossible obstacle, he finds the beauty in his day. He focuses on solutions or the kindness of trail angels, the generosity of other hikers, the awe of each sunset. And, although it might be possible to roll your eyes at such dedicated positivity, the truth is that he is a pragmatist. He is not denying the difficulties. He is dealing with them by focusing on the good. He’s done his research. He is prepared. He is not flying blind. He practices a focus on the opportunities, seeing the positive, choosing from the possibilities available in each moment.

He is a serious person and that is precisely why he doesn’t take any of it too seriously. He doesn’t get fixated on the problem or the pain. He intentionally circulates the good because he intentionally focuses on the good.

In these times, Carl serves as balm to clear our eyes from the smoke of rampant misinformation and preponderance of lies. He serves as a daily reminder that what we focus on is what we will, in fact, become. And what we become is what we will circulate.

read Kerri’s blogpost about THE GOOD

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A Cautionary Tale [David’s blog on DR Thursday]

“When our eyes are graced with wonder, the world reveals its wonders to us.” ~ John O’Donohue, Beauty: The Invisible Embrace

Looking for a headboard for a bed, we combed antique stores seeking hidden – and cheap – treasures. It’s rare for us to pass through the collected quirk of other people’s discards and not find something that we appreciate. We always find but rarely buy the unique sumpin-sumpin that appears. For us, combing the antique shops is like catch-and-release-fishing; the fun is found in the hunt. But, on this day-of-the-headboard, as we left our favorite haunts, Kerri said, “I didn’t see a single thing that called out to me, forget a headboard, I didn’t see anything else, not one thing.”

We launched our headboard hunt because we’re in the process of transitioning one of our kid’s bedrooms into a guestroom. After we moved the old spray painted desk out we needed something to take its place. Although it had only been a few days since we’d made the rounds of the antique shops, went out again, this time mostly to get ideas, to stir our imaginations, to open our eyes to possibilities.

Nothing had changed in the shops, yet we were overwhelmed by the number of cool pieces that we found. Everything had changed in our seeing. Gaping at a gorgeous relic with peeling paint (we are shabby chic with emphasis on the shabby) Kerri asked, “Was this here the other day?” The clerk told us it had been there for months. “How did we not see this?” she turned to me and asked.

It’s one of my lifelong fascinations: seeing and not seeing. We saw the treasure because we stepped into the world with open minds seeking possibilities. We did not see the treasure on the previous day because we stepped into the world with a narrow focus seeking a headboard. We didn’t see the treasure that was right in front of our faces because, well, it wasn’t a headboard.

We see what we expect to see – which is another way of saying that we often miss the beauty of the world because we seek headboards instead of awe. We narrow our vision to the point of exclusion. It’s not a mystery that on the day that we set out to find possibilities that we found too many.

It’s a cautionary tale in a nation that has made an industry out of division and exclusion. We see what we expect to see. The power of the latest election might be that it has opened our eyes and minds to possibility.

read Kerri’s blogpost about AUTUMN LEAVES

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What I Remember [David’s blog on Not So Flawed Wednesday]

Memory is a funny thing. It’s almost never accurate. Over time we revisit and restory our life experiences, scrambling the order of events, forgetting essential details while hanging on with white knuckles to specific moments that we understand as truth.* This happened. It matters. I remember it.

I re-member it.

Joseph Campbell introduced me to a phrase, an aspect that is present in all creation myths: the paradox of dual focus. “…so now, at this critical juncture, where the One breaks into the many, destiny “happens,”but at the same time is “brought about.”

Kerri and I have an ongoing conversation about the paradox of dual focus. For instance, our coming-together-story seems fated, as if it was part of the grand-plan all along. “It was meant to be!” we exclaim. And, at the same time, we ask, “What are the odds?” Our meeting was a happy accident in a vast chaotic universe.

Both/And.

It just happened. And, it was meant to be. It depends upon how we re-member it. It depends upon how we want to story it.

A Balinese man told me that, in Bali, when two people crash their cars into each other, their first thought is “I am supposed to meet this person.” Insurance claims and blame are not priorities. Fate orchestrated a fender bender. The strangers emerge from their cars and greet each other as if fortune had just smiled upon them; they are two pieces of a greater puzzle come together.

Supposed to happen. Accident.

The greater puzzle. The essence beyond the fragments. The One that breaks into the many. Focusing on the small stone does not negate the truth of the mountain. The single blossom is an expression of the plant, which is nourished by the soil and rain and seasons and critters…

Memory is like that. It is both stone and mountain. Blossom and ecosystem. The order of things is less revealing than the essence, the relationship to the whole. We grow and change and so that what might have at one time seemed a hardship now seems a course correction, a blessing. Kismet.

It happened. It matters. That’s what I remember.

*(It is a sign of our times that I feel it necessary to distinguish my thoughts on individual memory from the facts of history. We live in a time when those in power are actively editing, scrubbing and rewriting history. They concoct a narrative that has little to do with the actual history of our nation. This is not dual focus. This is white supremacist fantasy-creation.)

read Kerri’s blogpost about BLOSSOMS

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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

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The Composition of a Life [David’s blog on Two Artists Tuesday]

I cut the post I wrote for today. The image of this Dianthus flower is too beautiful for the thoughts I paired with it. The color of this flower kills me. The composition of this photograph would make Georgia O’Keeffe smile.

I reminded myself to not miss the beauty-of-the-moment in the middle of the national horror story we currently experience.

Chris has been on a quest for 15 years to develop a play based on Viktor Frankel’s book, Man’s Search For Meaning. A few days ago he took another step forward. He’s knocking on the door of his dream. Viktor Frankel was a Holocaust survivor and the book is based on his experiences in the camp. He makes a distinction that is relevant for us today: we have the choice to either seek meaning from our experiences or to bring meaning to our experiences. Our chances of survival are better if we bring rather than seek meaning – especially in a time, like ours, when amorality and cruelty have the reins of power. It’s hard to find meaning in the wasteland.

It’s the reason I cut my post. I was seeking meaning from the rapid collapse of our democracy rather than bringing a greater meaning to this moment-in-time.

We put the air conditioner in the window because our old Dogga suffers in the heat. Last night he was laying in his now-usual-spot directly in front of the fan blowing cold air. I sat next to him and rubbed his ears. I cannot describe the enormity of what I felt in that moment. It was more necessary, more important than anything rolling across our screens.

As I write this a bird – a house finch – is scratching at the window just behind where I am sitting. It is literally six inches from my head. I can see into its eyes. And it is looking into mine.

The color of this Dianthus kills me.

I cannot stop the national slide into autocracy. I can control where I choose to place my focus and there’s so much around me that would be a shame to miss. It’s the composition of a life that would make Georgia O’Keeffe – and Viktor Frankel – nod with silent approval.

read Kerri’s blogpost about DIANTHUS

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What Grows In Us [David’s blog on DR Thursday]

For several months we kept a book on our bedside table: Benedictus by John O’Donohue. It’s a book of poems in the form of blessings. Each morning we’d select one at random, and read it aloud. It was one of our strategies for starting the day with a meditation on goodness rather than a doomscroll through the news.

It’s an ages-old adage: where you place your focus grows. Focus on fear and that’s what you’ll see. Focus on your blessings and that’s what populates your garden.

I believe in the adage but I also know that no mind, heart or soul is healthy if singularly focused. I also believe fear can be useful, anger can be generative, and grace is most often found on a walk through despair. Focus is not an end goal or an achievement. It is not meant to fortress us from “negative” emotions since experiencing the full spectrum of emotion is, after all, how we learn and grow. A full palette of feeling is what makes us human. Focus is the choice of a conscious mind.

Fear can be a prayer. Loss is one of the many shades of love.

I’m aware that most of what we write about these days is about the dismantling of democracy. Some of my pals are worried that I am lost in a dark land or too focused on the negative. And with each outreach I am reaffirmed in the certainty that I am a fortunate man to have so many who care so much about me. I do not write this as a platitude. I know to my bones that I am a fortunate man.

I am fortunate because I have known shame and terror. I have made titanically stupid choices. I have learned and questioned and followed my wandering heart into every valley that beckoned and climbed every mountain that called. I have fought battles that did not exist and found my seemingly good intention was destructive for others. I have felt deeply. I ran when I should have stood my ground. I betrayed myself. All of these experiences have expanded my life-palette and given me some small understanding of the power of focus. These experiences introduced me to the gorgeous people who now surround me, who worry that I am lost in a dark land.

This morning we sipped coffee in bed. Dogga was asleep on the quilt at our feet. We listened to the bird chorus come alive with the rising sun. We held hands as we always do. At the exact same moment, we had the overwhelming realization that life does not get any better. I was so taken with the gorgeousness of being alive that words failed me. We sat in utter appreciation of all that we enjoy.

That happens for us multiple times every day. It is where we choose to place our focus. It is what grows in us. It is the same place – this love of life and gratitude for all we enjoy – that necessitates writing with such urgency about what’s happening in our nation. We do not write to solve a problem. We do not write to complain or blame.

Do you recall the story of Kitty Genovese? She was a young woman who was raped and murdered in NYC in 1964. Although many people heard her cries for help, either no one listening recognized the horror of her plight – which lasted over half an hour – or no one cared. In any event, no one called the police; no one came to her aid. It was the inception of what we know as the “bystander effect”: everyone thinking someone else will take the responsibility. Focus elsewhere.

Our national house is on fire. The rights of women around this nation are being brutalized. The rights of all people of this nation are under assault. It’s no time to be a bystander. We write because Kitty is screaming. All that we love and enjoy makes it impossible to turn away and turn up the volume of the television. Were we capable of turning away, were we actually pretending that what is happening is not actually happening – as is the republican congress – then we would be in a very dark place, indeed.

Prayer Of Opposites, 48″x48″, acrylic on panel

read Kerri’s blogpost about DOGGA

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The Stuff Of Life [David’s blog on Two Artists Tuesday]

It’s been awhile since we updated our website. Although Kerri disagrees with me, it feels a bit outdated. This morning, while poking around, I was struck by the “welcome” language on our Melange page: a place where we gather together to share writings, paintings, music, performances, workshops and the stuff of life. And then a statement of intention: we offer a daily blend of goodness, thought, laughter and beauty.

Recently a reader of John Pavlovitz commented that they missed John’s positive messages. John responded that he missed them, too. With the nation under attack by an authoritarian and mad-hatter oligarch, it seemed reckless to ignore the reality of our dire situation. Kerri and I feel the same way. We miss writing our positive posts but right now this is the stuff of life. It is impossible to ignore.

We were killing some time before an appointment and wandered into a pet store to visit the puppies and kitties. To our surprise there were no furry critters to pet so we wandered the store and were immediately captivated by a Veiled Chameleon. As is true of all things that capture our attention, the camera came out; a full-fledged reptile photo-shoot commenced and I have to admit, this tiny creature-from-the-black-lagoon knew how to model. It worked the camera.

Later, Kerri showed me the series and chose her favorite four from the reptile-photo-shoot. She gave each photo a name based on the animated pose of the chameleon, “Doesn’t it look like he’s saying, ‘OMG’?” It did. Body language is 55% of communication.

It made me laugh. Her four photo series captured perfectly the themes of our blogs since the election. 1) OMG!!! 2) WTF!!! 3) What were you thinking??? 4) NOW what??? I think this little critter may have solved my website design questions. He just might find himself featured as an animation on the Melange.

Someday we might return to a daily blend of goodness. Someday, if we are all fortunate, our focus will once again lean toward laughter and beauty. For now, this is the stuff of life. It is impossible to pretend otherwise.

read Kerri’s blogpost about THE CHAMELEON

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Brimming [David’s blog on saturday morning smack-dab]

I’m writing a few days ahead because we have a week of travel. As you read this we will be on a flight home, full of stories, new memories, refreshed spirits brimming with gratitude.

Just as we are excited about the adventure ahead we know there will be a moment in our travels when our focus shifts and we will turn our attention toward home. It’s one of the great gifts of travel: renewed appreciation for the known, coming home with new eyes that see the sweet comfort of routine. No doubt, the gratitude we are feeling at this very moment runs through the great gift of new experiences, brimming with utter appreciation for stepping back onto our well-worn path.

read Kerri’s blogpost about NEW EYES

smack-dab © 2025 kerrianddavid.com

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Use The Discrepancy [David’s blog on Merely A Thought Monday]

Every once in a while I flip open one of my well-loved-and-well-worn books to a random page and read a few paragraphs. It’s my way of giving this wise-old universe the opportunity to drop a pertinent message on me. What tidbit of wisdom might I need to hear today?

Yesterday I opened Robert Fritz’s book, The Path Of Least Resistance, and began reading about discrepancy: what is the difference between where you are right now and what you want to create? I read that most people try to remove or deny their discrepancies. They try to eliminate the tension. Artists, on the other hand, understand their discrepancies as fuel. Creative tension. Discrepancy ignites the imagination. The last thing an artist wants to do is blunt their imagination, deny the discrepancy. An artist uses it. It’s a “process focus” rather than an “achievement focus”.

At the stop sign she stopped just shy of the bumper of the car in front of us, pulled out her camera and snapped a photo of the sticker on the window: I hope something good happens to you today. “Now that’s refreshing,” she said. In our travels we see plenty of aggressive bumper messages. Almost daily Kerri asks, “Why would they put THAT on their car? Jeeeeez!”

A wish for something good to happen to you. Today. What is the distance between us-as-a-nation right now, in this very dark moment, and a community that actually hopes for something good to happen to and for everyone? Can you imagine it? Walking in the world with a hope in your heart for good things to happen to everyone you meet, to everyone whose path you cross?

It is an understatement to suggest that there’s quite a discrepancy between what-is and what-could-be. There is a veritable chasm between the incoming angry nightmare and those who voted for hope, decency and kindness. And so it’s a vital time to be an artist. There’s rarely been a time more in need of imagination to counter the backward-looking-conservative-fascist-fantasy.

There’s plenty of fuel for the imagination borne of our massive discrepancy. Hoping for something good to happen to you today – whoever you are – is a great place to start.

read Kerri’s blogpost about SOMETHING GOOD

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A Mutual Bond [David’s blog on Two Artists Tuesday]

Among the many tiny treasures that Horatio dropped on me during our call was this: when it’s all said and done, love is paying attention.

That may not on the surface sound like an earth-shattering revelation until it’s pondered for a moment. To what or to whom do you give your attention?

Attention is something given.

Actors (and artists) mature when they understand it. The scene is never about them. It is always about the “other” and the relationship created when attention is given. In this way artistry is a potlatch, a gift-giving.

When Kerri stops on the trail, captured by something beautiful, a thistle, a pattern, a winter sky…there is palpable love in the attention she gives. I often imagine that the thistle or caterpillar first gave their attention to her. That was the call. The allure that drew her attention. That, of course, is the secret: giving attention is a magnet. It creates a mutual bond.

There is a profound power available when one learns that attention is not happenstance but intentional. A choice.

It may be the epicenter of all choices, the fundamental decision: where do you decide to place your focus? Where – or to whom – do you give your attention?

“Target what you love,” Horatio said. “Tap into the source.”

read Kerri’s blog on TWO ARTISTS TUESDAY

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