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

like. support. share. comment. subscribe…thank you.

See More. Know Less [David’s blog on Two Artists Tuesday]

“(What makes his world so hard to see clearly is not its strangeness but its usualness). Familiarity can blind you too.” Robert Pirsig, Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance

Red and green. Oppositional on the color wheel yet understood as compliments. They set each other alight.

I am certain the longer I walk this life the less I know. How much time did I spend trying to get-there-fast? How much life did I give to my attempt to attain the mountaintop before I realized that there wasn’t one? How much hubris did I exude believing “my” work might change the world before I was humbled sufficiently to see that the world was changing me? Is there such a thing as “my” work? I have lived a life rich in collaboration. Who hasn’t?

And, how fortunate am I that life has routinely tossed me out of my “comfort” zone? Don’t get me wrong, I would appreciate a bit of smooth sailing with ample provisions but the ongoing absence of “normal” makes eyes-wide-open a necessity. There is no missing how interdependent we are, how utterly interconnected, when here-and-now is the only place we can clearly see.

read Kerri’s blogpost about RED AND GREEN

like. share. support. comment.

buymeacoffee is. nothing more. nothing less

Be Us [on KS Friday]

always with us prayerflags copy

It is times like these that the grand illusion of every man/woman for themselves drops away. It doesn’t take long in a crisis to reveal how interconnected and interdependent we really are. As New York Governor, Andrew Cuomo, said this morning, what I do impacts you and what you do impacts me. There is, in essence, no such thing as you and me.

This is true in good times, too. It is true in all times. It is simply true. What I do affects you. What you do affects me. What I do is often a ripple of what you’ve done and vice versa. We are not nearly as separate nor independent as we like to pretend.

The delusion plays itself out. The run on TP. We’ve all seen the lines at the gun store. Sooner or later it will occur – as it always does – that the best form of self-protection is participation in community. Participation is protection.

Ironically, it is the sturdy fabric of the interconnection – in good times – that allows us to delude ourselves into thinking that – in bad times –  we can do it all by ourselves. Stop for a moment, look at the food on your plate and ask yourself how many people were necessary for you to enjoy your meal. The rings of interdependence will run farther than your capacity to imagine. That is always the case.

An article shot crossed my email this morning. It was from an artist sharing her realization in the midst of this pandemic that she does not create art for audiences, she creates with audiences. Like her, my paintings are not complete until people engage with them. People are not complete in the absence of art. Listening to Kerri play is more life-giving than any of the news broadcasts we’ve been glued to. There are levels to meaning making and the heart level rarely requires data but always requires other people and their gifts.

This morning we are hearing of the real difficulty of social distancing: mental health is stressed in isolation. We do not do well in quarantine. We, do, however, get creative. Jen prompted us to text images of all things green so we are looking around the house for green things. Emails and phone calls are on the rise. Mike reminded me last night that Shakespeare wrote King Lear while in quarantine for the plague. He meant it as a challenge, “Any takers?” he winked.

Rob wrote, “In times like these we NEED art.” Yes. We need art because we need to create with people. To experience with people. To story our experiences with people. To grieve with other people. To laugh with other people. With. Always. Us.

 

 

ALWAYS WITH US from the album AS IT IS available in iTunes & CDBaby

 

 

read Kerri’s blog post about ALWAYS WITH US

 

 

hands website box copy

 

always with us/as it is ©️ 2004 kerri sherwood