Be Peace [David’s blog on KS Friday]

Coming over the pass, the first glimpse of the lake seemed a mirage. It beckoned.

I always travel with my sketchbook though I rarely take it out and draw. I am more of an “intuitive” artist – feeling my way forward – so the impulse to draw scenes from nature rarely occurs for me. Rather than capture images I more often write ideas or capture snippets of conversation. I capture interesting shapes. I draw images that come to mind. Like the lake, the images first appear as mirages, calling me closer.

Rooting around in my bag, my sketchbook fell open to the very first page. I was surprised by the notes I found there. I’d forgotten a conversation Kerri and I had months ago about the difference between being-at-peace and keeping-the-peace. This is a bit of my note: All my life I have tried to keep the peace – which means to keep silent – to NOT say – to not stir the pot – to be more concerned with how others feel than how I feel. Being at peace is different. It means being solidly in my center and giving voice to what’s vital for me; not swirling in circumstance like a ‘Peacekeeper’ does. And then I captured a quote from Kerri: “To be peaceful is not about keeping other people’s peace, it is keeping my own.”

Driving toward the lake I thought about what I’d written.

Peace-full means to take responsibility for how I walk and speak in the world, regardless of circumstance.

Peace is amorphous when looked at from afar; it is a mirage when it is an aspiration. In the heat of the moment, when lived, peace is a solid center, immovable like a mountain, as clear as the crystal waters of the lake.

A mantra I learned long ago rolled through my mind: Peace is not the absence of violence. It is what we do in the face of violence. It is Gandhi and MLK. It is a mass of people joining together and walking in peace toward violence, refusing to be silent, refusing to hide, refusing to become violent.

We are now living in a violent time. White supremacy is once again rearing its ugly head. The fascists have the reins. With a rapist in the white house, a cabinet unique in their lack of experience and rejection of the constitution, an oligarch dedicated to self-interest and to destroying democracy…misogyny, racism and hate are having a moment. This is no time to keep the peace. This is a time to be the peace: to join. To give voice and call out the lies. To root firmly in our shared belief in equality and tradition of the rule of law.

As JB Pritzker just wrote, “Tyranny requires your fear and your silence and your compliance. Democracy requires your courage.” It takes courage to be peace in the face of hate.

The Republicans having lost their spines, minds and their moral compass and the Democrats having lost their rudder and will-to-act, we find ourselves called to show the courage and commitment that believers in peace not-so-long-ago showed on the Edmund Pettus Bridge.

Peace is a solid center, immovable like a mountain, as clear as the crystal waters of the lake. Our democracy demands that we link arms, be peace, and take responsibility for how we walk in the world and for our democracy before it swirls down the drain.

Peace on the album As It Is © 2004 Kerri Sherwood

Kerri’s albums are available on iTunes and streaming on Pandora

read Kerri’s blogpost about THE MIRAGE.

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A Moral Center [David’s blog on Merely A Thought Monday]

I was grateful for the meme. It gave me simple language, a shorthand, for something I was wrestling to articulate: We are not having a difference of opinion. We are having a difference of morality.

I wonder that it took a meme to open my eyes. This in not about information bubbles or dueling points-of-view or fact-checked-information.

We are on the eve of an election. This election is unlike any other in our lives. The choice before us eclipses policy differences. On the ballot is democracy or not-democracy. A constitutional republic or an autocracy.

The maga-candidate sows division, darkness and grievance. He is a pathological liar. He is obsessed with retribution. He vows to use the military to silence “the enemy within”. He promises to arrest his opponents. Last week he suggested a firing squad for Liz Cheney. In a multicultural nation, a nation of immigrants, he promises mass deportations.

This is not empty rhetoric. As we’ve learned from his overthrow of Roe, he will do what he says. He has a Heritage Foundation plan called Project 2025 to dismantle our democracy. He disavowed it when public knowledge of his embrace of this extreme fascist blueprint hurt his chances for election. It is his milksop pattern: by pretending he has no knowledge he abdicates responsibility for his words and actions. It is a damning statement of his lack of character. It is a characteristic of an authoritarian narcissist.

What is also a damning statement of character is to vote for such a man. To turn a blind eye to all that he has said, all that he has done, all the lies that he has told, is a statement of our character.

Presidential historian Jon Meacham recently reminded us that within the spirit of the Constitution lives the character of our leaders – and also the character of the led. Our national character. “Out of many, one” is more than a quaint Latin phrase printed on our currency.

A character check: compare the maga-candidate’s daily mantra, “I have no knowledge” with the sign Harry S. Truman proudly displayed on the resolute desk: The buck stops here.

A vote for the maga-candidate is literally a vote to suspend the Constitution (his words). It is a vote to suspend our national character. It is a vote absent of a moral center.

We choose our leaders as a reflection of ourselves. It is why this election is unlike any other in our lives. The image the maga-candidate reflects back to us is at best repugnant. It is empty of character. It is the opposite of our nation’s identity.

If you see yourself in this man, a misogynist, xenophobe, racist, filled with rage and retribution…we are having something much more profound, much more serious than a difference of opinion.

We have a difference of morality.

Decency matters. Conduct matters. Language matters. Character matters. Principles matter. Intentions matter. Discerning the difference between right and wrong, between good and bad behavior, matters.

It’s the spirit living in our Constitution. It’s the character our leaders ought to reflect back to us because it’s the character we should demand from our leaders.

And so we vote.

Democracy or not-democracy.

Will we live and act from a moral center, striving to fulfill the promise of a more perfect union, or will we throw it away and spiral into a fascist void?

read Kerri’s blogpost about THE ELECTION OF OUR LIVES

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Shake The Sickness [David’s blog on Flawed Wednesday]

We thought it was motion sickness or perhaps a brush with heat stroke. In retrospect, it was her first symptoms of COVID. Fever and nausea. Perception is a funny thing. We were on a pontoon boat on Lake Powell, a miracle of water in the middle of the desert. We ascribed her sickness to the circumstance of the moment, blinding ourselves to the presence of the virus.

20 days later, now at home, I called an ambulance. Searing pain in her back, intense nausea. She couldn’t move. She lost consciousness and when she came back into her body, she was utterly incoherent. She couldn’t keep her eyes open. I dialed 911. I thought she had a stroke or heart attack. It never occurred to me that it was COVID inflaming her spine. Sometimes we miss the obvious sickness in the pressure of the moment.

It is through these two experiences that we witness and interpret this moment in our nation’s history. The sickness is right in front of our faces. Is it the pressure of the moment, the circumstances, that make so many of our citizens willingly blind to the hate-filled virus? To what do we attribute the appeal of this maga-fascist movement within a multi-cultural democracy? I am writing ahead so am freshly disgusted by what we witnessed last night at the maga-rally at Madison Square Garden.

This morning I heard this question: Why do we hold Kamala Harris to a high standard for her position on issues, her capacity to articulate ideas, for the emotions she does or does not exhibit – and yet, there is no equal standard or expectation for her opponent? For him, there is no bar too low, no lie too repugnant, no assertion too vile…We’ve normalized his hate-speak; we’ve come to expect his racist, misogynistic rhetoric.

Why the disparity? His fascist rants drive ratings. In a decent society it should disqualify him.

Are we truly this sadly transactional? Is our moral center nothing more than quid-pro-quo?

Kamala holds herself to a high standard. She actually has ideas to articulate. She has and follows a moral compass. She holds fast to a firm belief in public service and champions the tenets of our constitution. She believes the occupant of the office of the presidency should lead by example, should elevate rather than diminish others, should support rather than threaten, should solve problems rather than make accusations, should embody and lead from a high standard, should take responsibility rather than blame. I’m almost embarrassed to write this as it should be a given for any candidate for our nation’s highest office: she also has a firm grasp of reality.

Her opponent and his party have no such expectation of themselves.

We’ve just witnessed a major newspaper withhold an endorsement for fear of retribution if maga-man wins the election. Jeff Bezos does not wish his future business deals to suffer in the event of a maga-win. We are witness to politicians – like Mitt Romney – who fear retribution and banishment from their party if they speak honestly about authoritarian big daddy. That our business leaders, that our politicians fear retribution – retribution from a candidate for president – this is the sickness. This is the fascist disease currently infecting the tongues and minds of those who have platforms to speak.

Think about it: In the United States of America, many of our senior republican politicians are so fearful of defending our democracy that they ask us not to hear what we hear. They gaslight without shame. In 2024, in the United States of America, some of our most successful business people, some who control much of our media, are choosing silence at the very moment we most need their voices. Or, worse, they are actively spreading the lies of the autocrat-wanna-be. Apparently, magnifying the bile could be good for business.

Quid pro quo. No virtue necessary. No moral fiber required. This is the virus attacking the courage- the spinal system – of our nation.

We hold Kamala Harris to a high standard because she holds us to a high standard. She believes that we will vote for a healthy future and not a diseased-fantasy-past. She believes that, after the maga-fever-dream passes, we will as a nation reunite, regain our health. We will hold ourselves and our elected officials to a higher standard. We will re-embody our famous optimism – and those who lost themselves in cowardice and hatred will reawaken, shake the sickness from their hearts and brains, and ask, as Kerri asked in the ER, “What just happened?”

read Kerri’s blogpost about THE VIRUS

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So Do You [David’s blog on Not So Flawed Wednesday]

As you approach Monument Valley there is a blue sign and a nondescript pull out: Forrest Gump Point. It’s the place where they filmed the scene of Forrest ending his epic run. It’s now a place where travelers stop to jump out of their cars and into the road and have their picture taken. Photographic proof that “I stood where Forrest stood.” It is a whacky pilgrimage that none of us knew existed until we saw the sign.

No matter that Forrest Gump is a fictional character. He represents a way of being. A contemporary Buddha. A pure heart. Simple, honest and present.

In retrospect, it did my heart good to stand where Forrest stood. It did my heart good to witness so many travelers pull off the road and want to stand in that iconic spot, to want to get as close as possible to Forrest. Simple. Honest. Pure.

I thought of Forrest Gump Point this morning as I watched Jake Tapper interview speaker Mike Johnson. In a festival of gaslighting, Johnson tried to explain away the assertion made again and again by his party’s candidate that he would use the military against his political opponents. Johnson’s explanation: you are not hearing what you are clearly hearing.

Pretentious. Dishonest. Rank.

Forrest Gump did not know why he was running. He only knew that it was the right thing to do. He was running toward a truth.

Mike Johnson knows exactly why he is running and what he is running from. He also knows that it is the wrong thing to do. He -and his party of enablers – are running from the truth. They can pretend all day long that their candidate doesn’t say what he says, that he has not done what he has done, that he does not intend to do what he says he will do. Johnson knows, as they know, as you and I know, that he is lying, that they are lying. They are gaslighting. They are providing cover for a rapist, a pathological liar, a racist, a misogynist…an autocrat.

My wish for Johnson, the GOP, Bret Baier and his ilk, and all the voters that daily hide, make excuses for and explain away the behavior of their chosen candidate: I wish you would stop running from what you know to be the truth. I wish you would turn around and listen – simply listen – to the bilge that daily spews from your candidate’s mouth. I wish you would listen to the rubbish-explanations that daily clog your brains. I wish you would question your need to daily justify this morass. I wish you would check your moral compass and stop insisting that the hatred and chaos espoused by your candidate is in any way defensible or somehow worthy.

I wish you would stop telling me that I am not hearing what he is saying. I hear it. And, just like the Speaker of the House, Mike Johnson, so do you.

read Kerri’s blogpost about FORREST GUMP POINT

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Doodlebug It! [David’s blog on Not So Flawed Wednesday]

Some words are just too yummy to ignore. For instance, doodlebugging! Who wouldn’t want to toss that delicious word into almost any conversation-salad or happy poem? “The poor man was doodlebugging to no avail!” I am surprised that doodlebugging escaped the keen word-eye of Dr. Seuss!

Doodlebugging means to dowse or divine for treasure or petroleum. I ask myself, “What would I rather find, petroleum or treasure?” Well, I guess I would need more information. What kind of treasure? I imagine myself diligently doodlebugging in the backyard, my “Y” shaped stick goes wild! I dig a deep hole. Kerri stands on the deck, none-too-pleased with my doodlebugging destruction, until I leap into the hole and pull up a hefty pirate’s treasure, complete with many gold doubloons!

And, if I don’t divine for imagined treasure, I need to know whether or not I own the rights on the land I am doodlebugging. There’s no sense in doodlebugging for oil if someone else gets the profits for my newly dowsed black gold, texas tea.

I’ve decided that our poor sad nation needs a good doodlebugging. Despite the rhetoric, petroleum won’t cure what ails us so I suggest we doodlebug for treasure. Specifically, we seem to have lost our most valuable treasure: our moral compass. It has to be out there in the grass somewhere. Perhaps if neighbors across the land, regardless of political affiliation, met in the front yard or on the street, each with a handy “Y” shaped stick, and began a serious doodlebugging project in search for that pesky compass, together we’d find what we seek. A common cause which, after all, forms the foundation for unity and provides the seeds for ethical decision-making. Ethics are usually surfaced – or resurface – when people decide to serve something larger than their own interests.

We used to have one. I mean a common cause. It was called the Constitution, a document that framed, guided and preserved our democracy. Toward a more perfect union. By the way, union means ‘joining’ or ‘uniting.’ It’s what makes our common cause, in the midst of so much rich diversity, more perfect. The challenge is that the Constitution is lost or in hiding. Parchment is notoriously hard to doodlebug. One person will never find it. So, maybe if we all meet together in the front yard, armed with a harmless stick and a good intention, shake hands, laugh a little, and work with the people we so dearly love to vilify, we just might find the medicine our divided-against-itself nation needs. It’s hard to hate someone once you meet them in person, talk for a spell about family, food and “So, what do you do for work?”

A little friendly neighbor-chat while doodlebugging together will do away with the abstractions, labels, and dial-down the fear-mongering. In our common search for the lost compass, we just might learn that we have more in common than we’ve been led to believe.

read Kerri’s blog about Y

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Cranky, Earnest, Docile [David’s blog on KS Friday]

I can’t help it. I see animated characters in these spiky thistle-balls. Three spiny stooges who are sharp, sharp, sharp on the outside with nary a thought on the inside. Bullies all.

Look closely and you’ll see that each has a different character. There’s a leader who has no idea where he’s going. There is the faithful number 2 who follows the leader without question. This thistle has no idea that he’s lost. And then there’s the character I love the most: the butt of every joke, the low-man-on-the-totem-pole. The follower. This thistle is just happy to belong. He doesn’t care where he goes as long as he’s with the pack. A directionless devotee.

What I adore about my budding animated-thistle-story is that each character is defined by their relationship with the other two. Leaders cannot lead without willing followers. Likewise, the role of faithful servant, blind follower, the second in command, only knows himself relative to number one. Number two puffs up on hot air borrowed from of the boss. And the low man, the thistle picked last for the team, will take any bone thrown his way. The other two are careful not to throw too many bones. Status games are like that: high status leaders need grovelers on the bottom rung. Mo, Larry, Curly.

Cranky, Earnest, Docile.

Cranky, the thistle leader, is ego-driven. He can do no wrong so, being directionless, he is constantly proclaiming himself a victim. “The forest is out to get me!” Earnest works hard to validate Cranky’s reality. If Cranky says it is true, it must be true! “The forest has it in for Cranky!” Docile, in turn, will perform any task without question. Docile will march in the streets, break windows, lie, hide documents…all to be one of the gang and, by association, feel one-rung-above. Docile is dutiful. The noticeable absence of question or thought is what makes Docile such a rich character. He is a lemming in thistle-clothes.

The absence of direction or thought or moral compass is what makes these three spiky stooges so utterly comical. So utterly frightening. So utterly close to home out here in the real world. Animation. Our poor thoughtless cartoon nation.

Boundaries/Right Now © 2010 Kerri Sherwood

Kerri’s albums are available on iTunes and streaming on Pandora and iHeart Radio

read Kerri’s blog about THISTLES

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Accept What You See [on Flawed Wednesday]

I had the privilege to watch the work of the great Kichom Hayashi. He was a master of the middle way, helping polarized groups find middle ground and shared purpose. I have more than once wondered what Kichom would say about our great national divide.

For someone whose life work has been steeped in the art of “seeing” and perspective flips, I find myself utterly incapable of seeing the perspective of those on the other side. In truth, it’s not that I am incapable, it’s that I believe I already see it and what I see is ugly to the bone.

I remember a heated conversation in 2016 with my dear friend who stands on the opposite side of the divide. Too emphatically I said, “You wouldn’t leave your daughter alone in the same room with this man! How could you vote for him?” To date, 26 women have accused the outgoing president of sexual assault or misconduct. I can’t NOT see that nor can I pretend that it isn’t relevant. Although I couldn’t articulate it at the time, my emphatic question to my friend unearthed the crux of the matter. This man has no moral compass. This man is capable of anything.

Standing on my side of the divide, the conversation that pops up again and again is a dilemma that goes something like this: “I want to find common ground but I can’t NOT see what my family, friends, neighbors have embraced.” The list of lies is extensive and pervasive. The corruption is life-long. A scam called Trump University. Bilking donors through his foundation. A businessman, famous for stiffing the working men and women who built his projects, who has been bankrupt six times, is not the biz-wizard he pretends. The emoluments violations are breathtaking. The art of his deal is the art of the swindle and I am utterly mystified at what my loved ones standing on the other side of the crevasse do not see.

And, actually, that sheds light on my fear. I am afraid that they DO see it. That they see it and either don’t care or that they embrace what this man represents. Misogyny. White supremacy. Authoritarianism. Conspiracy theories a-go-go. Fear mongering. Hatred of others. Rob. Rape. Pillage. I can’t NOT see what I know they MUST see.

I’ve provided an excuse for myself, something to make me feel better: they don’t see because they have their heads so firmly thrust into the fox hole. The story that they are being told blinds them. They are filled with info-goop that has all the truth-merit of the National Inquirer. But, in my quiet moments, I have to admit to myself that they must want to eat that bile. Who would choke down so much hatred unless, to them, it tastes good.

I rolled my eyes when my sister repeated the inanity, “There are more COVID cases because they are doing more testing!” I hung up the phone and shouted to the sky, “She can’t be that stupid!” She’s not stupid. She’s caring and loving and works hard in her community to make a better world. So what is it that she doesn’t see? Or doesn’t want to see?

On the other side of the crevasse I hear fear cries of “SOCIALISM” and, again, I roll my eyes. In a nation in which the top 1% holds and controls more of the wealth than the entire middle class, you’ll have to forgive my loud guffaw. “They can’t be that stupid!” I shout from the back deck. They either do not know what socialism is or they cannot SEE what is right in front of them. Or, they don’t care to see it. The slop that they are being fed must taste good. It must feed something inside of them. It certainly profits those who are feeding it to them.

Them. They. It is too easy to fact check what we are being fed. It only takes a moment to investigate media bias. What is it that THEY do not want to SEE?

And, most alarming to me, this is what I SEE: it is not just a difference of opinion that divides us. A difference of opinion orbits a common center of ethical understanding, of moral agreement. Kichom Hayashi could bring seemingly irreconcilable differences to a middle way because he knew the center, the moral compass, was shared.

To my friends and loved-ones, to those that have lined up behind a pathological lie, a gaping virtue-void, I can’t UNSEE it. I can’t justify or pretend there is any merit to the empty center, the grotesque morass of what you embrace. I would never leave my daughter alone in a room with a rapist. I wonder why you would.

read Kerri’s blog post about UNSEEING IT