Drink It Up [David’s blog on Not So Flawed Wednesday]

Posted on May 1, 2024 by davidrobinsoncreative

Although they are rare, yesterday we had what Kerri calls “a very negative day”. It was so pronounced that while out on the trail we made fun of ourselves, “What else can we be negative about?” she chirped.

“I don’t know but I’m sure there’s something!”

As usual, following a very negative day, I was awake most of the night having a chat with myself. “What was that about?” I asked. A question, I know, with no answer. Some days simply go off the rails. Still, the question has to be asked.

What I appreciate about my particular orientation to the world is that, instead of an answer, I never arrive at answers, a song floated to the top. Something better than an answer. Something more immense than a solution. A heart-call rather than a mind-pleaser. Like a poem. Last night, the deep response to my discord, was Danny’s Song, by Jim Messina:

Love the girl who holds the world in a paper cup
Drink it up
Love her and she’ll bring you luck
And if you find she helps your mind
Better take her home, home, yeah
Don’t you live alone
Try to earn what lovers own

I lay in bed through the dawn, listening to the birds awake and sing, the chimes call me to presence, feeling the cool morning breeze through the windows, knowing in my bones that I have absolutely nothing to complain about. Not really.

And even though we ain’t got money
I’m so in love with you, honey
And everything will bring a chain of love, oh, oh, oh
In the morning, when I rise
You bring a tear of joy to my eyes
And tell me everything is gonna be alright

Better than an answer: “love the girl who holds the world in a paper cup.” I do. “Drink it up.” I am. “And in the morning when I rise/ You bring a tear of joy to my eyes/ And tell me everything is gonna be alright.”

It is a new day.

read Kerri’s blog post about CHOCO-FACE

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Filed under: Flawed Wednesday, Love | Tagged: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 1 Comment »

Know The Poem [on KS Friday]

Posted on April 15, 2022 by davidrobinsoncreative

“Spring has returned. The Earth is like a child that knows poems.” ~Rainier Maria Rilke

“First robin!” she said.

“What?”

“First robin. That means spring is here!” she looked at me with “duh” eyes. I was new to Wisconsin so the rituals were not yet known to me. I did not yet understand that in this strange land a water cooler is called a “bubbler” and that cheese curds are sacred food. Before the week was out, I’d heard it three times from strangers. “First robin!”

Years ago, during my first winter in Seattle, after months of gray, the sun came out for an hour and all the people working downtown poured out of the tall buildings and stood facing the sun. They moaned with satisfaction. “What’s this!” I exclaimed. Weird behavior. The next year, after months of dreary gray, the moment the sun peeked from behind the drab curtain, I ran out of my apartment to revel in the return. Leaning against a brick wall, eyes closed, feeling the warmth on my face and the heat reaching my bones, I knew this was my passage to becoming a “local”. I moaned with satisfaction.

Poetry is visceral. It has it roots in the moans of sun drinkers and robin-seers. The green pushing up from dark soil. The smell of spring or the first hint of warmth on the winter wind. Words cannot capture feelings but isn’t it glorious that we try?

We were walking the neighborhood on a cold afternoon. She squeezed my hand and pointed. “First robin,” I said and she smiled. “Spring.”

Now, doesn’t “First robin. Spring!” sound like a grand start to a poem of renewal? Ahhhhhh, yes. A hint of warmth on the wind, harbinger of green shoots reaching. Someday soon, sun will call me out of hiding and color my pale face.

read Kerri’s blogpost about FIRST ROBIN

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

baby steps/right now © 2010 kerri sherwood

Filed under: Creativity, Emergence, Gratitude, KS Friday, Language, Metaphor | Tagged: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment »

Look Forward, Look Backward [on Not So Flawed Wednesday]

Posted on January 13, 2021 by davidrobinsoncreative

It stood stark white against the umber of the brush and forest. “A wishbone,” Kerri said.

Furcula. My new word of the day. I also learned that the tradition of breaking the wishbone is brought to us via the Romans. It’s an ancient game of luck and fortune divination. I imagine fowl across the ages had and continue to have no idea that they carry within their feathered bodies an augury. Chefs everywhere caution that the wishbone must be dried before it can properly snap. Pull too soon and the power may not be turned on!

I confess that, standing in the woods, I did not immediately see a wishbone. I saw two diverging paths. It brought to my mind a collision of the Hopi prophecy and The Road Not Taken by Robert Frost. It made my head spin and I was grateful that Kerri stopped to take a picture. When my thought-vertigo calmed I realized that both the prophecy and the poem are a call to take the road “less traveled by.”

I see metaphor everywhere. I can’t help it. And so, it is impossible for me not to project this poem and prophecy onto the place we stand in these firmly-divided-united-states. “Two roads diverged in a yellow wood.” I read that the theme of the poem is “that we want to believe that our choices are unique, brave, and life-altering when they really are not.” It is a backward glance at life.

It seems to me that the choices we as a nation make at this particular crossroad, despite the poem’s theme, will be life-altering. Nation-altering. Some interpreters suggest the poem is a celebration of non-conformity, that the real wealth of life is found when breaking away from the well-traveled-and-well-known path. I can only hope that the politicians draped in red, attempting in their blind conformity to minimize a president-inspired-insurrection, find the courage to break from their dangerous orthodoxy.

The Hopi prophecy is a forward look. One path leads to destruction. The other leads to balance and harmony. A “head” path and a “heart” path. Or, a “two-heart” or “one-heart” path. Two hearts are in conflict, a split-intention, and lose all trying simultaneously to chase two goals; a tale of cross purposes. One heart, one intention. One purpose. Unity.

A forward look. A backward look. A wishbone in the forest. We have the luxury of backward-looking and know the path the Romans chose. They are gone. But, they have left us with a rich tradition of chicken-bone-augury.

I wonder what story future-backward-lookers will tell about us? I wonder what path we will take as our road diverges in this yellow wood? I wonder what fowl tradition we will send rippling into the unknown future?

read Kerri’s blog post about the WISHBONE

Filed under: Flawed Wednesday, Metaphor, Pattern, Perspective, Story | Tagged: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment »

Truly Powerful People (460)

Posted on June 12, 2012 by davidrobinsoncreative

460.
Join me in inspiring truly powerful people. Each day I will add a new thought, story or idea to support your quest and mine.

A week ago, Judy came to my studio and we talked for hours. When we talk, time has a funny way of condensing: 3 hours becomes three minutes. It is not uncommon for us, 3 minutes into our conversations, to notice the sun setting, the day slipping into night. We jump up, look at a clock, eyes popping at the time; with Judy I always feel the need to make sure my clock is not broken or that it didn’t somehow slip into east coast time. It is one of my favorite aspects of our relationship: so engrossed in our banter, we never have slow goodbyes – the ferry is about to sail or the meeting has already started; we rush to the door like teenage lovers whose parents came home early.

In our last “good god look what time it is” revelation, Judy pulled from memory this poem by Naomi Shihab Nye:

Red Brocade Pillow

The Arabs used to say,
When a stranger appears at your door,
feed him for three days
before asking who he is,
where he’s come from,
where he’s headed.
That way, he’ll have strength
enough to answer.
Or, by then you’ll be
such good friends
you don’t care.

Let’s go back to that.
Rice? Pine nuts?
Here, take the red brocade pillow.
My child will serve water
to your horse.

No, I was not busy when you came!
I was not preparing to be busy.
That’s the armor everyone put on
to pretend they had a purpose
in the world.

I refuse to be claimed.
Your plate is waiting.
We will snip fresh mint
into your tea.
.

Isn’t it lovely? Being busy is the armor everyone wears to pretend that they have a purpose in the world. How nice to stop pretending – even for a moment – and go back to the real purpose of living. Your plate is waiting.

Filed under: Perspective, Truly Powerful People | Tagged: , , | 2 Comments »

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