The More Difficult Path [David’s blog on DR Thursday]

“Tenderness and kindness are not signs of weakness and despair, but manifestations of strength and resolution.” ~ Kahlil Gibran

As her parting words when it was time for us to go, Beaky always said, “Be kind to each other.” She said it more as a wish or a prayer than as wise counsel.

In this latest era, we’re hearing a lot about hate speech. I believe Beaky’s farewell sentiment came from the experience of a long life: she knew that hostility and indifference are easy. Meanness is low hanging fruit, easily picked. Kindness, on the other hand, requires dedicated intentionality. It is a mandate to relinquish senseless power games.

Her parting words might as well have been, “Be conscious. Give your attention to each other.”

In the school of “Your Words Matter,” there is a clear distinction between the language of violence and the language of benevolence: hate speech rejects personal responsibility. Kindness requires an embrace of personal responsibility.

It is easy to point a finger and spew word-bile. It is satisfying to score a point and walk away. Demolition is elementary. It requires no special talent or skill.

Decency, kindness, generosity…considering the impact of words and actions on others – is certainly the more difficult path. To be aware of the impact of words and actions takes…well…awareness. Awareness and concern for others takes courage, strength and resolution – and is nothing less than the blossom of respect for your self.

With some corrections, it is finished: 66&19, 31.5″x36″ mixed media

read Kerri’s blogpost about the DAISY BUTTON

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Earth School [David’s blog on Merely A Thought Monday]

“It takes the brave to come here,” Shelly said, assuming our spirits come to this planet with the intention to learn and grow. We were discussing life-lessons. Earth school.

20 regularly reminds us that relative to many US citizens we are considered poor but relative to the majority of human beings on the planet, we are wealthy. We have sturdy homes. Heat. Clean water. Abundant access to food. “There’s a reason that so many people want to come here,” he says. Promise. Opportunity. A better life.

It’s all a matter of perspective and perhaps perspective is one of the most important things we learn in earth school. Without it gratitude is out of reach. Without it, empathy is null and void, self-righteousness runs amok.

When I was in my 20’s I worked on a concrete construction crew. It was very hard work. I worked alongside a Mexican man in his 50’s. We shoveled dirt. We hefted heavy equipment. We did not share a common language but early on he recognized I was working foolishly, too hard and too fast. He taught me to pace myself. He taught me to work smarter.

At night I went home to have a hot shower, eat my fill, and sleep in my own bed – while he went to a one bedroom apartment that he shared with 20 other people. He sent most of his wages home.

He was corralled in one of the immigration raids and sent back to Mexico. A few weeks later he was back shoveling by my side; a round trip journey of hundreds of miles, none of it in the comfort of an airplane or air conditioned car. He paid a coyote a king’s ransom to make the trip back to his job.

Can you imagine leaving your home, your family, your known world and with few resources, traveling to a place where you don’t speak the language, to a place where you are not wanted, to a place where you share an apartment with 20 other people – all so your family might eat and perhaps one day live a better life? He was typical. He was not a criminal. He was a father trying to feed his kids.

Earth school. I thought of that man when Shelly said, “It takes the brave to come here.” His lot was impossibly hard yet he whistled all day doing backbreaking work. He smiled. He considered himself fortunate. That man was brave. He was also kind. He was patient. He was living a onerous life that I cannot begin to imagine and doing it with a light heart because he knew that his labor might bring hope and opportunity to his family.

Earth school. I wonder how much courage it will take for us as a nation to one day look in the mirror, to come to grips with the distance between our espoused and lived values?

It takes no courage to exploit. To bully. To betray. To feign righteousness. To sit atop the pyramid while claiming victim-hood. Right now, our nation and its very weak and ill-intended leaders are a study in cowardice.

I suspect hard lessons, if not already here, are coming. Perhaps we will discover what it really means to be brave and, hopefully, we will remember what it is to work for the benefit of others rather than exploit them. Perhaps we will forge a light heart in our walk through fire. Perhaps gratitude and empathy will be in reach. Hopefully, we will remember what it is to be kind.*

*Gratitude, empathy, hope, care for others, inclusion…are all attributes of “woke”. I am woke and increasingly more and more proud of it. In this climate, it will take some courage to stand with the people and institutions being demonized, to speak truth to dedicated maga-sleep-walkers.

read Kerri’s blog about EARTH SCHOOL

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

Kerri and I walk arm-in-arm. We have since the moment we met, held hands, and skipped out of the airport. While walking in our neighborhood people regularly stop us to say how much they enjoy seeing us walk by. We appreciate their kindness. We do not take for granted the great gift of our second chance in life.

Appreciation takes time. We rarely fast-walk a trail. As a rule, we slow walk so we can see and appreciate what is all around us. Arm-in-arm, we take it in. The color. The smells. The feel. The sounds.The critters. The movement. The changes. We often walk the same trails yet they are never the same.

Filled with so much appreciation for the trees, we can only imagine that the trees feel the same way about us. We believe life is like that. As MoonJuice Hikes likes to say, “What goes around, comes around.”

read Kerri’s blog about THE TREES

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buymeacoffee is a walk of appreciation. nothing more. nothing less.

See The Awesome [on KS Friday]

Our favorite Wander Women posted the next installment of their through-hike on the Arizona trail. They are 300 miles in and passed through a burn zone that impacted a Saguaro cactus forest. Some of the giant cactus had perished. Many were burned yet somehow, survived. New growth pushed through the top of the blackened resilient plants. I was awestruck.

A decade or so ago, when life was hard, when I least believed in human kindness, I set out each day on my walk across the city determined to count acts of generosity. The acts of benevolence were everywhere and by far outnumbered the aggressive honkers and the impatience of frustrated commuters. By the time I reached my studio I wondered how there could be so much kindness, so much benevolence in the world, unseen. I wondered why our shared story was of a scary-angry-world rather than a world of munificence. The evidence did not support the narrative.

Looking for kindness in others inspired acts of kindness in me. Sometimes, after I witnessed a generosity, I approached the person who gave of themselves and acknowledged their act. I essentially said, ‘I saw that and it was awesome.” You may or may not be surprised to learn how impactful a simple acknowledgement can be. People smiled and blushed. People waved it off as if it was nothing.

Kindness is everything.

My walks across the city were more than a decade ago. The shared narrative of scary-angry-world is louder now than ever yet I wonder if I took a walk across my city-of-yore would I see a different result or the same? Kindness flies mostly under the radar, people wave it off as small gestures; it doesn’t pull high ratings like bullying or blood or scandal. We live within the narrative we feed.

I suspect kindness is as pervasive as fear-mongering but kindness doesn’t care if it gets the headline.

A sentinel stands on our trail. A tall stump, long ago burned by fire, perhaps a lightning strike. Perhaps its blackened scars are from a controlled burn. It reminds me of Shel Silverstein’s The Giving Tree. The birds use it for perching. The squirrels burrow at its base. Life teems around and because of the blackened stump. It always captures our attention. I imagine it is kind since so many creatures and living things find support in its watchful presence. New growth will never push through the top of this stump. It is no longer self-generating. It is, however, like a standing nurse log, new life teems around, on top of, and through it. A silent giver. I am always tempted to step off the path and whisper, “I saw that and it was awesome.”

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read Kerri’s blogpost about THE STUMP

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Not So Difficult [on Merely A Thought Monday]

Good human beings.

Since I was a child I’ve been told that Santa keeps a list. Naughty or nice? Naughty means taking from others; being mean. Nice means giving to others; being kind.

It’s not so difficult.

Tomorrow is election day in these un-united-united-states. Election officials fear for their lives. A sad statement for the sacred epicenter of a republic: the right to vote. Safely. Securely. Without intimidation.

It’s really not so difficult. Good human beings look out for each other.

The Big Lie continues to swirl around the folks on the right. Evidence is not required when filling bellies with hot air. All that bloviated gas-bagging makes people angry. Seeing nothing but red, people become easy marks. Red is the color of gullible.

Good human beings are not bullies. They play fair. They do not gerrymander or twist the rules so they win the game before playing. Good human beings bring their best ideas to the center. They offer their ideas. They consider the ideas of others. They need not always get their way. They require a safe place to freely speak and guard that space for everyone.

It really isn’t that difficult.

Naughty means consumed with self-interest. Nice means enlivened by service to something larger than self.

Naughty means hoarding all the pie. Nice means sharing slices with others.

Tomorrow we vote. To bully or be kind? It’s really not so difficult.

read Kerri’s blog post about GOOD HUMAN BEINGS

Ask A Coneflower [on Merely A Thought Monday]

I was surprised to learn that Echinacea is a coneflower. Actually, the opposite is more correct. The coneflower is Echinacea. Filled with antioxidants, immunity booster, inflammation reducer, it is a heavy lifting herb. It’s also beautiful.

“I want to use the coneflower on Monday,” Kerri said. “It would have been Momma’s 100th birthday.” I asked if Beaky liked coneflowers and she smiled and said, “No. It’s just beautiful. And falling away. It just reminded me of my mom.”

Beautiful and falling away. I only knew Beaky for 18 months but felt as if I knew her a lifetime. She was rare and special. A gifted teller of stories. She was like the coneflower, filled with antioxidants, an inflammation reducer. I watched her more than once boost someone’s spirit, cool an angry intention. She was a dedicated see-er of the positive, a believer in the goodness of people. These days, those qualities are not easy to come by and even harder to cultivate.

On the morning that she was going into surgery, we wheeled her down the hall of the rehabilitation center en route to the ambulance. The staff lined the walls to wish her well, to cheer for her. It was a Beaky parade. I think the Beatles had it right: the love you take is equal to the love you make. She made people want to be better. She made me want to be better.

When taking your leave from her, she would always say, “Be kind to one another.” It’s a proper wish for all of us, a baseline expectation in a time of deep division. Beaky’s wish at age 100, I imagine, is the same as it was when she was 93 or 82 or 56 or 30. Be kind. One to another. The path to a better world is not so complicated after all. Just ask a simple coneflower.

read Kerri’s blog post about CONEFLOWERS

Exercise Choice [on Not So Flawed Wednesday]

I know what it is to be kind. I see acts of kindness everyday. Humans helping humans. Humans helping animals. Humans mindful of and taking care of their planet. Synonyms include friendly, generous, considerate. All of these are other-focused. To be kind is to consider the needs and lives of others. Beaky used to say in parting, “Be kind to each other.” Kindness was her wish for this world.

I’m not sure that I know with the same clarity what it is to be human. Philosophers have answers that generally trace back to our capacity to reason, to make meaning from our senses. To think consciously. To question. To be aware.

My quick pass through the news of the day betrays how non-human we humans can be. What is the sense of perpetuating a lie? What is gained by lobbing bombs at neighbors? Cyber attacks? We read that there were, from sea to shining sea, 9 mass shootings over the weekend. I’m having a hard time making meaning of it all. I can rationalize it, explain it away, assign blame…but, at the end of the day, I know my rationalizations are nonsensical. Non-sense. No sense. Which, according to the battalion of philosophers scribbling across the ages, attempting to define what it is to be human, we are, because of our non-sense, not human.

There are so many questions and thoughts bursting from this simple bumper sticker!

Arriving home at 10pm, after two consecutive days of 13 hour drives, 20 had a hot meal waiting for us. I called for help and my neighbor John came running. Jen prepared a travel bag of snacks for us and left it on our doorstep. The family that lived next door to my parents made sure, after every snowfall, that the walks and driveways of their elder neighbors were shoveled and safe. Kind.

Somewhere in Kansas it occurred to me that to be human was a choice. Kindness is a choice. Yes, we make meaning from our senses and experiences and the line that defines us as human is our capacity to choose the sense, the meaning that we make. We witness and then we choose. The choice makes all the difference.

The angry man weaving in and out of traffic in his truck, flying the confederate flag, was making a choice. The man who shoveled my parent’s driveway, never having met them, was making a choice. To focus on division is a choice. To reach across the aisle is a choice. To wear a mask to protect others is a choice. To point a gun is a choice. To lie is a choice. To stand firm in your conviction is a choice. To open a door for others is a choice.

To be human is not just to exercise choice but to choose actions that support others. And, among the greatest available choices, the choice that most advances humankind, as Beaky knew, is kindness. To think of others, choose, and act accordingly.

read Kerri’s blog post about HUMANKIND

Listen To Beaky [on Not So Flawed Wednesday]

good morning sunshine copy

Today we turn our thoughts toward Beaky. A bright light. Five years ago, on this day, she passed away.

Not only does it seem impossible that she died five years ago but it seems more impossible that I only knew her for 18 months. If you were to ask me how long I knew Beaky I’d say, “Forever.” Some people are just like that. Kindred.

She and I were co-conspirators. We plotted strategies – all unsuccessful – to convince Kerri that her natural curls were gorgeous and did not need straightening. She gave me a lesson in applying lipstick and rouge, standing next to her walker, looking into the mirror, popping our lips. After being catheterized, she cautioned me to be careful what I wished for. “When I was young I wished I could pee standing up.” she said. “MOTHER!” Kerri blushed as Beaky winked at me.

Time and again, I was moved by her kindness, her generosity to others. After taking a fall, rushed to the emergency room, writhing in pain, she looked up at the attending nurse and said, ‘You have a beautiful smile.” The role of nurse fell off, the woman flushed pink and was transformed by the compliment. Beaky did that a lot, she hit people with a dedicated kindness when they least suspected it. Her kindness was not manufactured, it was matter-of-fact. It was sturdy,  genuine.

The night before we saw her for the last time, we scoured her house for a blue notebook, the journal she’d kept during a long ago trip through Europe with her husband. Beaky was a recorder of life’s events. Not merely notes, her journals and calendars were threads to a vital time, to living memory. She thought the notebook was lost. When Kerri gave her the journal, Beaky hugged it to her breast and rocked it like it was a long lost child come home.”Oh, you found it! You found it!” she cried.

As we left her that day, she said, as she always did when we departed, “Be kind to each other!” Much more than a salutation, it was an invocation. Be kind to each other.

 

read Kerri’s blog post about GOOD MORNING SUNSHINE

 

 

momma, d & k website box copy

 

Two Artists Tuesday

be kind

I love this image. It works as a subtle infinity mirror, two parallel mirrors that create a ripple of ever smaller reflections that seem to extend into infinite space.

Be Kind. The first and most obvious mirror is an ideal and like most ideals it is unattainable. It is unattainable because it is not a fixed state, a grasp-able thing.  It can’t be bought. Kindness is not an achievement.  Instead, it is a way of being, an aspiration, a flowing river. Like most things unattainable,  it is easily tossed into the dustbin of cliches. Why be kind in a dog-eat-dog-business-is-business-every-man/woman-for-him/her-self world?

Be Kin. The second mirror, the parallel that creates the ripple, is not an ideal, it is a simple reality. It is also not attainable because it simply is.  It cannot be attained but it can be ignored. In fact to ignore our innate kinship requires a serious dedication to denial, an elaborate fantasy of control. It  seems we humans, we makers-of-belief, have a choice to either recognize or deny our kinship.

With inclusion, with the recognition of like-ness, comes the desire to reach for the unattainable kindness. The desire to reach for a greater spirit, a better nature, our natural state.

Exclusion, on the other hand, is a sad and scary state. It is a lonely single mirror, self-directed, single-reflective, a “me” space, and, thus, it is incapable of seeing or participating in the infinite ripple.

On this Two Artists Tuesday, step into the melange and consider looking through the ripple. Be kind. Be kin.

BE KIND. BE KIN merchandise

be kind framed print    be kind mug  be kind pillow

 

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check out Kerri’s thoughts on this Two Artists Tuesday

be kind. be kin ©️ 2016 kerri sherwood & david robinson