Irresistible Haunts

In the great stilling of the year,
we walk in woods,
marked with evidence
of winter who,
like a tourist,
visited and departed
in a great sky river
I witness above last night's fire
out
under the great Moon
and
Clouds unfolding stories:
the cow jumping over the moon
the speed of a cargo plane landing
the bite of a wolf
a lesson in what is
uncontrollable and perfect just so.
We move counter-clockwise
and step into tomorrow,
just a step between continents.
Between
action
and
inertia
the ice thaws
the sun cools
the shade lingers
delicately not necessarily
as from oak branches adorned in
great Spanish moss and fallen pine needles
nestled within a moment's warmest hug.
Though we wake,
sleeping still among the thorns of 2020,
the point is we wake
remembering
the moment
where spiders find such irresistible haunts
delightfully
full of prospect.

Today's Lesson was in how to link a live video from FB in EMYoga to my YouTube Channel and add captioning (access to all).  I have not perfected this task yet, but small steps...The first video in a series for January can be found below (another step in 2020 to rebuild professional competence).  

Irresistible Organization

ᛋ Sól er skýja skjöldr

ok skínandi röðull

ok ísa aldrtregi.

rota siklingr.

Icelandic Rune Poem from reading sources about the house; digital text and translation here)

Most of my mornings for the past two days I spend figuring out technology to bring EMY and my brick-and-mortar-sorta classroom into 2021–things on my bucket list for 2020. That I even have a list is on my mind, so proud have I been to live what-I-called-intuitively for the past year. Like everyone else. I will take pride in my accomplishments, only to highlight how I am humbled by those who continue to persist in the bleakest of circumstances and inspired by human ingenuity and perseverance.

On the one hand, I, well-equipped and experienced in setting fitness, health, yoga, lifting, teaching, and organizational goals and squeezing them all into some kind of category, along with to-do lists and planners and file folders and stickers and pens, naturally and intuitively plan for the coming of 2021, supplied with what is [available] and occupies my time. I call it intentions and affirmations that WHAT I want to manifest or cultivate or bring into existence, and I can check off “done” on that ta-do list, which deteriorates into an annoying sense of great waste of the #abundance available on line, in Nature, at home, in my lover’s eyes. I recognize that I pretend to be organized and I’ve even stated that 2021 will be the year I become organized. What does that even mean?

On the other hand, I have been side-lined recently from walking, standing, moving, and getting things done, which has given me the gift of digital dreaming and word-play. This time of stillness in my physical body reminds me of the potentiality of Day which brings to light those aspects hidden to oneself. The point is–at least for me–is to step into the Day. Time to fix and connect the links in social media for Youtube and EMY and Instagram and plan for the 2021 second semester classroom (that’s organization improving). The adrenal fatigue fog is lifting and I have more mental #clarity; the newest flare-up is localized to the bottom of my foot, which gives me time aplenty to do the Erika mental gymnastics to hone my skills (or find them again–so lost I’ve been in 2020land).

Inspirations today include #practices of

-working with runes (foundational for any communicative endeavor)

planning

-writing about #tags or photos

exploring

-sharpening/honing teacher skills (did you know I’m a teacher?)

Irresistible Middle Ground

Nec reditum Diomedis ab interitu Meleagri,
nec gemino bellum Troianum orditur ab ovo;
semper ad eventum festinat et in medias res
non secus ac notas auditorem rapit, et quae
desperat tractata nitescere posse relinquit.

-Horace

December’s almost-predictable roller-coaster ride leads me to a beautiful #abundance of creative ideas and promised into 2021. The quarantining process brings with it a shift of #perspective with learning new tools, such as #mindfulness, through a turbulent 2020. At school, we literally had opportunities to re-invent the teaching wheel (and that’s as close to autonomy as you can get in any content). As with most of 2020, great scarcity and unknowing brought #irresistiblecircumstances to discover the important people in our lives and places of refuge, along with how to receive and return Love. Revisiting and tagging thought categories has been useful in seeing #whatis, essentially the #practice of yoga with all that is available, any time and in any place, with the difficulty and uncomfortableness of 2020 snuggled right up against #pain, #grief, and #catharsis; working through resistance requires hard work. Who is to say whether it is the work of 2020 that makes us weary or 2020, a tag itself in omnipresence.

Today, the proverbial 2020 train creaks and clacks slowly up to its pinnacle, and I sit here, stuck between past and future. Experience dictates caution (just like a teacher). Intuition advises my adrenals to scream and get off the ride, but healthy curiosity reconciles with the dose of knowing or, rather, acceptance. Daily walks in Florida’s #skog in the perfect Season among the miles of sandhills, prickles, and humorless humidity has uncovered Nature’s own inherent wild ride–a message to perhaps slow down the pace and look around in the #irresistiblecircumstances which one has created for oneself.

What is Walk

Whether through the miracle of birth

This body Earth

holds host to the catalog of dismissed #abundances:

the water oak, the cypress, the wild sages and cassia,

the thistles and duckweed, the blooming poison ivy,

the water lettuce, the tickweed and asters of the brush,

the sweetgum and inkberry, the ribwort plantain,

or through the death of 2020;

This body Earth

returns to inner fertility of a Florida mid-winter:

moss carpeting the realms below the roots

home of ant, snakes, spiders, and little birds

(a recurrent theme) while

Spanish moss dangles fat and lazily from canopy

and across the pale dead grass,

a pair of hawks glide to dinner

witnessed

along with vultures and their darker intents

(Not a look of someone doing someone else’s work)

A rotting log from a bird’s eye view.

Blistered feet will write the story of thorny 2020:

Whether it is the instrument

through which Gods play

or words playing Gods

Here I walk with what is

In media res

Irresistible Day

Dæg byþ drihtnes sond, deore mannum,

mære metodes leoht, myrgþ and tohiht

eadgum and earmum, eallum brice.

The Anglo-Saxon Rune poem

We are almost 16 weeks into this 2020 edition of a Covid school year; school is still more about adrenaline than passion. As drive myself through adrenal fatigue and increasing #pain cycles, there is still much comfort in seeing students participate in all the various forms. There is routine in examining the old texts, seeds of our Constitution, and discussing fresh perspectives of Enlightenment. Inequities present themselves, easily imagined as we live the reality of our ancestors. Rich and poor, the work of school is useful to all.

Self-management hangs heavily in a synchronous learning environment, from discussions of leaving something on the stove (when working from home) to managing the impossibilities of impromptu Internet glitches and patches while all at once some magic learning happens. In any case, there’s hardly a time to pause unless we make time for this release. And, just like physical pain, mental anguish and stress takes a toll. Were our forefathers (and foremothers) not the same in their dreams, fears, and internal dialogues? Did they take a moment to seize an opportunity for gratitude (the mindfulness strategy today)? Did they trace the Night’s path across their backyard sky, or take a nap in the emerging sunlight on a cool day, or savor a hot cup of tea in quiet contemplation, and find hope there?

Of late, without much ease in movement, I find myself processing the words, words, words, in a such way I never anticipated in my half-century. Could the younger me have envisioned a day I wouldn’t remember vocabulary or concepts or need the constant reminder of my stumbling and bumbling access to the more common areas of my brain? Likewise, did I intellectualize the day I couldn’t lift the weight of the world and a barbell locked and loaded to squat beneath or push overhead?

School becomes a challenge, tripping over the next item to do, procrastinating the great and honorable task of grading (and grade-entering to create irresistible mixed-media digital content); however much I love to craft a lesson, the sheer amount of energy to make any decision has taken flight to darker realms, suspended.

Survival depends on Day and Night, a marriage of predictable opposition. I am held by spaces between polarities, and Day’s quiet appearance transforms Night’s #abundance into actionable steps toward the future. And while little of life outside of school setting presents itself in the traditional way, each Day has offered fresh #perspectives. Brought into a classroom, our community is light of hope itself–we will survive. Rich and poor, the perspective of familiar cycles is Hope.