Sit In The Circle [David’s blog on DR Thursday]

Somewhere in my past a teacher suggested that it is helpful for a writer to know to whom they are writing. Who is your audience? And more specifically, is there one person that your words are meant to reach?

The question came up for me on our trail. The snow dampens sound. Some people find a winter landscape bleak but I find it beautiful. Distinct. Thought provoking. Ideally suited for an introvert like me. Quiet life. Stands of warm sienna reeds sharp against the ice blue snow. The creaking-moan of tree limbs rubbing in the cold breeze. Perfect for inspiration and reflection.

Much is changing in the world broadly and in our world close-in. I am not writing as I once did. I am not painting like I used to. When I first began writing my audience was a community of international coaches, interculturalists, and diversity, equity and inclusion facilitators. I wrote broadly. I had points to make. A brain to flex.

Now I am bereft of answers and have only questions. Some days I write specifically – for Alex or Buffalo Bob. Some days I write for Horatio or Judy or Dwight or 20. Sometimes I write to members of my family though I know they don’t often read what I write. Sometimes I write for Kerri. Many days, probably most days, I write to myself. I reach in. I am asking myself questions about what I believe.

The people who populate my audience – my community – now and in the past – are bonded in their empathy. They care about others. They strive to make the world a better place for others. They are modest. Humble. The opposite of elitist. They are kind. They ask questions. They are thinkers who seek truth in all things; they are open hearts, open minds, with finely-tuned crap detectors. They care enough to fact-check what they hear. They are learners, curious about difference, unafraid of stepping beyond what they know. They are the people I want to hang out with.

On my walk in the snowy woods I realized that I need them now more than ever. A community that inspires hope, that fuels the creative fires burning inside of me and others. A bevy of goodhearted people I admire and believe in. A community of sanity – my community of sanity – in a country deliberately trying to lose its mind and sell its soul.

I write each day so I might sit for a few moments in the circle with these good people, whether they know it or not.

Instrument of Peace, 48″x91″ mixed media

read Kerri’s blogpost about REEDS AND SNOW

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And Bok Choy [David’s blog on Two Artists Tuesday]

This week we made a miso pot-sticker soup (Japanese). 20 made for us a red curry noodle soup (Thai). We often make pasta dishes and will soon cook chicken marsala (Italian). Later this week we will make fajitas (Mexican). In one of our soups we used for the very first time bok choy (Chinese cabbage).

We drove on errands and passed Panda Express (Chinese), Pimmy’s (Thai), Masala House (Indian), Buono Beef (Italian), La Fogata (Mexican), La Caribeña (Columbian) Madame Pho’ (Vietnamese), Gyro Grill (Greek), Bisi (Ethiopian)…There are many more. A not-so-surprising statement of food diversity borne from a nation comprised of diverse people.

We passed a mosque, a Buddhist temple, a synagogue, churches of all shapes and stripes. A few miles north is a Sikh temple, a Hindu temple, an Amish community, and a Taoist Center to the west.

A quick look (less than a minute) at the labels on my clothes reveals items from Vietnam, China, Mexico, India and Bangladesh. I recently bought a pair of shoes from Columbia Sportswear Outlet store. They were made in China. My favorite Frye boots were also made in China. Frye is a company founded in Massachusetts. Massachusetts is an Algonquin word meaning “at the great hill.” Colorado is a Spanish word meaning “colored red”.

My name, David, comes from the Hebrew word “dod” which means “beloved”. It is a name that “has been adopted into languages all over the world, including Syriac, Greek, Latin, and Quranic. Quranic means “relating to or contained in the Koran.” Syriac is a literary language, Aramaic, used by several Eastern Christian churches. Kerri is named after a county in Ireland. Her parents cleverly exchanged the “Y” for an “I”. Kerry is a Gaelic word meaning, “Ciar’s people.” Ciar was a legendary warrior (This is new knowledge to me and explains a lot!)

In our history we find the word “settlement.” English, Dutch, French, Spanish. Another word, “migration”, shows up later in reference to the arrival of the Irish, Italians, Germans. “Immigration’ is a word that includes the arrival of the Chinese, Japanese, Mexicans and many people from Central America. Of course, we cannot forget the word “slavery” which was the path of Africans to this land, and “displacement” which is the sanitized word referring to the fate of the native peoples. “Attitudes towards new immigrants have fluctuated from favorable to hostile since the 1790s.”

This morning I read this from Heather Cox Richardson (Letters From An American, Feb. 1, 2025): Trump’s loyalists overlap with the MAGA crew that embraces Project 2025, a plan that mirrors the one used by Hungarian prime minister Viktor Orbán to overthrow democracy in Hungary. Operating from the position that modern democracy destroys a country by treating everyone equally before the law and welcoming immigrants, it calls for discrimination against women and gender, racial, and religious minorities; rejection of immigrants; and the imposition of religious laws to restore a white Christian patriarchy.

Given the reality of what is all around us, of what actually populates our lives, can you possibly grasp the magnitude of delusion and utter amorality in the minds (there are no hearts) of the current republican administration?

read Kerri’s brilliant blogpost (though she regularly disparages everything she writes)

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Climb The Stairs [David’s blog on Two Artists Tuesday]

It was a rare treat to climb the stairs to the rooftop deck and gaze into the night sky, unobstructed by city lights. Years ago I worked with kids in Los Angeles, teenagers, who had never seen the stars. Standing on the roof, overwhelmed by the Milky Way, I thought about those children, now well into their adulthood, and hoped that they had, at long last, found a way to peer into the endless universe.

What else might adequately provide them the understanding of the impossibility of their existence, the enormity of their lives? What else might open their eyes and hearts to the necessity of community, the recognition that their lives only have meaning relative to the people who share this planet and this moment-in-time with them? Relationship is purpose.

We have seven days. In biblical terms that’s how long it took the metaphoric god to differentiate light from dark, land from sea, moon from sun, animals from humans. Rest from work. Humanity’s role in this story of creation is to appreciate the enormity of their unlikely existence. To steward. To name. To discern between merit and the meritless, between truth and lie. To distinguish good intention from ill-intention.

We have seven days until we vote. Although we might pretend this is normal, this election is like no other in our lifetimes. The issues have taken a back seat to the question of our existence as a democracy. We are determining whether or not we are still capable of distinguishing truth from lie, whether or not we are willing to toss away our freedoms and replace them with authoritarian rage, whether or not we will serve the needs of the greater community or the power-lust of an individual.

Seven days. We will either step forward as champions of light and truth or we will turn our backs on what we know to be true and fall backwards into the dark fascist promises of Project 2025.

Under the stars we have a choice: to continue our quest to realize the dream of a more perfect union, with liberty and justice for all – or to exchange our constitution for the autocratic craving of an angry despot. To honestly name what we know to be true.

There’s still time to climb the stairs, peer into the starry sky, and realize the power of our choices, what is at stake in this, our time, our moment.

read Kerri’s blogpost about STARS

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A Different Criteria [David’s blog on Merely A Thought Monday]

“The clearest way into the Universe is through a forest wilderness.” ~ John Muir

I once read that the word “wild” was only necessary to a people who’ve deluded themselves into thinking that they are somehow separate from or above nature, that wild is something that desperately needs to be tamed.

In a culture where many are predisposed to believe that one’s personal nature is fundamentally corrupt (sin-full) and, therefore, requires serious controlling, all of nature is destined to suffer the same fate. Rivers are dammed. Forests eradicated. Waterways and air polluted. It is inevitable. All of nature is reduced to the word “resource”. It is the ultimate expression of taming. A resource to be used and then discarded.

Human resources. We are not excluded from the reduction since we are the source and executors of the degradation. Is it no wonder that so many are so certain that their lives have little or no purpose, value, or meaning. Used and discarded. The magic and mystery of this enormous universe rendered inaccessible. Subdued. Tamed.

It’s never made sense to me.

There are other systems of belief on this earth that are not built upon separation-from-nature but upon relationship-with-nature. Wild and tame are not oppositional but part of the same whole.

In workshops – teaching what I most needed to learn – I used to tell people that “Nothing is broken and nothing needs to be fixed.” Start with a loving premise. And see what happens. It fosters a different view of the world. It fosters a foundational shift in the understanding of “self”.

Starting with appreciation-of-self leads naturally to appreciation-of-others. Inclusive.

People incessantly trying to fix themselves grow blind to others. It’s the path of self-absorption. Exclusive.

People who fundamentally love their nature…begin with love. In love, they are naturally connected to all of nature, through their nature. Interdependent. Unified. There is nothing to fix. There are expansive experiences. Rather than tame, there is caring for the health of the whole. From a grounding in love, there is an entirely different set of criteria for making choices.

In love, it is easy to see: what we do to nature, we do to ourselves. What we do to others, we do to ourselves.

read Kerri’s blogpost about NATURE

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Arrive Again [David’s blog on DR Thursday]

Deadheading the day lilies, the afternoon sun pouring through the branches, I realized that I’ve walked a circle and arrived again at the starting point. After fourteen years, I’ve returned to the origin-thought of this blog.

I started writing the direction-of-intention after a conversation I co-facilitated. It was a day exploring and discussing diversity, equity, and inclusion. The group’s conversation veered into questions about power. That day I realized that I had an overabundance of thoughts and questions that I needed to study. My very first post was almost a thesis statement; it was an attempt to capture the essence of what I shared with the group: power-over others is not power at all. It is control. Power, real power, is something that is created with others. Control over. Power with.

I did not return to the beginning without help. The current political reality has drawn me like a moth to a flame back to the topic of power. Our two parties live on opposite sides of the line. The red hats are a case study in Control-Over. The Democrats operate on the principle of Power-With.

Control-Over is distinct in the necessity to blame. It is a victim’s game. It is an abdication of responsibility. It demands lock-step adherence and fears counter-point-perspectives. It evades giant swatches of its history. It pretends to hold all the answers and doesn’t tolerate questions.

Power-With is distinct in the necessity to choose. It seeks responsibility and participation. It thrives on counter-point-perspectives and demands collaboration and compromise. It needs to consider and reconcile with its full history, the good and the bad. It asks many questions and eschews the notion of a single answer.

Control-Over is essentially hierarchical. Caste. Fixed. Rule by one.

Power-With is essentially egalitarian. Relational. Fluid. Rule by the many.

It turns out there’s never been a better time to return to the root of my original inspiration. It is, I’ve learned the original root of our nation’s nearly 250 year conversation. The essence of the democratic ideal.

Today we stand squarely at the crossroads:

One choice continues to follow the complex path of power-with.

The other is a hard right onto the powerless path of control-over, not a step back in time as it pretends.

It’s our choice. It is our direction-of-intention.

read Kerri’s blogpost about SUN THROUGH TREES

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Only With The Heart [David’s blog on Not So Flawed Wednesday]

I just re-read The Little Prince. Our imaginary child, Chicken Marsala, made me do it. He’s lodged an idea into my heart and suggested I revisit some classics. Kahlil Gibran’s The Prophet is on Chicken’s short list of recommendations.

“One sees clearly only with the heart. Anything essential is invisible to the eyes.” Antoine de Saint-Exupery, The Little Prince.

I suppose it might seem odd that our imaginary child makes book recommendations but before you leap into full-blown judgment, I would ask you to ponder this: why might you consider anything borne of imagination as odd? This device that I am typing upon was once a figment of someone’s imagination. Consider this: there is power in imagining kindness. Peace will come first to the world through our capacity to imagine it as possible.

This past weekend we were at Pride-Milwaukee watching our amazing son perform on large stages and small. I loved being in a celebratory mob that embraced difference, that celebrated the divergent, that held an all-inclusive understanding of love. There was not a hint of body shaming, in fact, there was the opposite. Can you imagine that? “One sees clearly only with the heart.”

I had a minor epiphany standing behind the stage at the street fair. Watching the revelers, strangers dancing with strangers, people fearless in their acceptance, reaching one-to-the-other – these people unashamedly promoting acceptance-and-love-of-others are regularly branded as deviant. Our world is upside-down. Or perhaps it simply lacks imagination.

read Kerri’s blogpost about HEART LEAF

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Unfurl [David’s blog on Two Artists Tuesday]

I’m proud of her. Twice this week Kerri has fact-checked friends on FB who posted articles riddled with misinformation meant to rile. It took her less than a minute each time. In posting a link to the fact-check, she wrote, “Please check your information before you pass it on. xo”

It seems like such a small thing but it’s lately apparent that it’s becoming everything:

We forget that democracy is not a thing. It is an idea. It is an action rather than a noun. We forget that our democracy is young. Very, very young.

It worries me when I hear politicians making laws placing limits on the discussion of ideas at school. It worries me when I read that parents want teachers to teach “only the facts”. In today’s bubble-discourse it is a valid question to ask, “Whose facts?” Discerning between fact and fiction requires minds and hearts capable of questioning, capable of challenging the “facts” they are being fed. The notion of the purpose of education as a feeder-of-facts is nothing less than a sign of moral and mental decay. This is especially true in our great age of information with its ever-present shadow of rampant misinformation.

Democracies collapse when ideas and ideals are no longer debated, when winning-at-any-cost overshadows compromise, when respect for divergent points of view is overrun by intolerance. Healthy democracies are an ongoing tug-of-war; creative tension generated by a lively and respectful exchange of perspectives. This requires a system of education that nurtures these qualities and capacities.

Democracies collapse when they aim for an end result rather than steward a living process.

The point of education in a democracy is to consciously and carefully unfurl young minds so they might become active questioners, expansive thinkers, participating citizens in an ongoing experiment in a complex system called democracy, capable of stewarding their communities forward through an ever-changing world toward the promises inherent in the IDEA: equality, inclusion, governance by the people, for the people.

I would hope that we become capable of grokking governance-by-the-people which necessitates a people educated in ideas, reinforced in their curiosity and capacity to question, to converse and debate complex issues, capable of discerning ruinous power-over-agendas from the central idea enlivening their budding democracy: power with.

read Kerri’s blogpost about FERNS

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Today Is The Day [David’s blog on Not So Flawed Wednesday]

The world is upside-down. Father earth. Mother sky.

Today is the day we send messages of love. In grades school I remember that we scribbled Valentines to every single person in our class. And then we delivered them to each student’s unique construction paper mail envelop. I didn’t understand it then but I do now. Love does not exclude. Love has no bounds. It would not be Love otherwise.

Today is the day.

The sun came out after a long period of hiding its face. We were instantly energized, the light reaching the inner nooks and crannies of our soul. Yes, two people, one soul. We stood outside and aimed our faces to the sky for maximum rejuvenation. Just like a flower or a leaf. Eyes closed, drinking.

The world is downside-up. Sky and earth. One soul. Messages of love. No bounds.

Today is the day.

read Kerri’s blogpost about BLUE SKY

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Incite Some Deviance [David’s blog on Merely A Thought Monday]

I searched for it but couldn’t find it. A short clip of Carl Sagan placing life on our tiny planet into the perspective of the enormity of the universe. A little sun in a galaxy of suns in a universe of billions and billions of galaxies. Through this lens, it is mind-boggling, the hubris necessary to believe we are the center of it all.

Initially this morning, I wrote a post about grace but cut it. I asked a question about the collision of values: loyalty-to-a-group smacking down telling-the-truth. It’s a uniquely human dilemma. The insistence upon tribe, Us-and-Them, spins some very dark necessities. I tossed it because grace was overshadowed by gloomy.

This is what I intended to write: on this tiny blue ball there is a group of Us defined as “All Humans”. Loyalty to this group is understood as idealistic. How can we possibly reach across so many imagined boundaries? What would we do with a definition of Us that was all inclusive? We would invite grace. Float all boats.

Each year, everywhere I wander, I am steeped in songs-of-the-season that appeal to the best of our nature. Peace on earth. Goodwill. Love one another. Perhaps we should listen to the lyrics of these songs. They are written by us for us as an appeal to our idealism, a sentiment central during this season of light’s return. Peace. Peace. Peace. We should “take it to heart.”

Let’s face it, loving one another is deviant if it is all inclusive.

It’s a reach, I know, but it’s really not so hard to imagine Us in the context of this vast universe, on this tiny ball spinning and spinning around our minuscule sun, one of billions and billions and billions. In such a context, the boundaries-in-our-minds dissolve and invite a different set of questions to arise: How can we better share this blue dot together? Conflict makes money yet collaboration creates possibility.

Pouring a little light into so much dedicated tribalism is deviant. It requires a touch of dignity. Pouring light into darkness is called Grace. Grace, in the face of so much division, is deviant.

When I cut my initial post I wondered what it would take to breach the code of tribe, reach beyond the singing platitudes, and incite some deviant behavior like peace-on-earth and all-inclusive love-of-one-another.

read Kerri’s blogpost about DEVIANT BEHAVIOR

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Reflect The Light [on Two Artists Tuesday]

One of my most prized possessions is the homemade notebook DeMarcus made as an art student. It’s his notes from a class on color. The pages become more brittle with each passing year. The pencil notes are fading. Every so often, when I need a masterclass from a simpler time, I gingerly open the notebook and read a few pages.

The first entry always catches me. “Color: Light is a form of radiant energy transmitted by wave movement through space and is perceived visually.” The underlines are his. Radiant energy. Wave movement. Perceived.

It’s the second half of the page that grabs me: ” The (3) Qualities of Light: Physically = Life-giving. Mentally = Intelligence. Spiritually = Divine Wisdom…Think of color as light reflected.”

Keep in mind this is a beginning art student taking notes during his very first course introduction to color. His instructors are teaching him that working with color is working with light that is either life-giving, intelligence emitting or wisdom divine. In other words, working with color matters. To work with color is to give voice and expression to light. The work of an artist is about more than finger painting.

“Light is individualized by its contact with substances into COLOR…Think of color as LIGHT REFLECTED.”

If I could, I’d offer DeMarcus’ little notebook to all those fear-mongers out there scrubbing Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion curriculums and initiatives from their states. Scrubbing color from their palettes. Eliminating light. Life-revoking, intelligence numbing, wisdom stripping.

Repeat in pencil: To work with color is to give voice and expression to light. Think of color as light reflected.

Simple clarity from the first pages of a first year art student written in a homemade notebook more than a century ago. This nation is made vibrant through its rich diverse color palette. Why-on-earth would we knowingly, willingly, turn off the light?

read Kerri’s blogpost on COLOR

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