I return again and again to habits. These turn like leaves in the fall, somewhere up North of here, exchanging one color for other ones. Colors of discipline, floundering, returning, again and again. What makes us strong? What keeps us strong? Is it the exchange of one energy for another? Is it the exchange of effort for time? Is it the compensation for the exchange or the exchange itself? Is it conscious habits, or, like turning leaves, the exchange of practice and slow return?

I could return again and again, revisiting, reflecting. Pandemic conditions have been ripe for opportunities such as these, separated from our comfortable nests of fortitude with social distancing and lockdowns. I know it wasn’t discipline and conscious habits which forged 2015; it was exchange based on #connectivity. To make it an abstraction seems sacrilegious so I’ll return to the leaves turning in the fall. Like the Grand Canyon (which I finally got to see this summer), I know if I saw these lighting up the mountainside, I’d cry. The beauty of exchange is it doesn’t really need words (or money) and it becomes invaluable, if we return again and again. I’ve never been sorry I picked up a weight because I know I can do it. I have a relationship with it, as I did with my fellow crossfitters in 2015 (#CFMDstrong).

Here’s a little different idea of #exchange that inspired me to get moving forward, but one shared in my true hippy spirit–I’m all about the magick. May we be blessed in abundance of Earth’s exchange and our healing practices.

No better way to be an artist or a writer than actually writing or art-ing. You wish to do a handstand? A cartwheel? An actor? A mother? A teacher? A producer? You better start acting the part–start doing. But, wait! The falling leaves. How they catch the fading early Fall light! How they herald the change of Seasons, still sturdy with their flashes of chlorophyll and Summer’s abundance.

A recent solo camping trip–really only my second–gave me time to reflect and re-evaluate irresistiblecircumstances.blog, as school is not quite as irresistibly irresistible as our State would like to think it was. Florida legislation is tough on big Districts and their mask-mandating. The type of #inclusivity that our Governor would like to white wash by outlawing #criticalracetheory and other threats to public safety. But, then, this really shouldn’t be a blog about that, so off I went to the woods, thinking not in terms of what I could throw at my mid-life crisis, but what sub-set I could build: chopping wood, tarping a leaky tent, cooking efficiently, spending time looking out and in, and warding off Georgia ants.

During my listening and reading and doing (sometimes nothing), I made the decision to return to this space in a new way, still #practicing but with an eye on producing (for money). Not an easy decision, but one of the heart (could be purple).

I also made the decision to use this space in a more irresistible way through sharing my inspirations. The first is a book review and one of my favorite channels. May You be inspired to listen or read or both.

May we be blessed in our #abundance and continued #practice in Love.

 ᚺ 
ice seed
reflected in my poems
preserving, if read, a blip;
but nonetheless melts
past these Needs
abruptly and incessantly
sprouting
in the next hot minute.
#impatience:
    a turn which cuts us off at the pass
    a reversal of circumstances
    a new vista right around the corner
I am lost in the flurries of my mind
watching little seeds of dark knowing and hope grow
in the precipitation which follows Dawn

I feel better, more in myself, than in previous years. Always afraid to say my #adrenalfatigue is more manageable…more anything really. I don’t speak of this diagnosis much, only when I noticed (which is all the time) how many of my coworkers and women friends have similar experiences with the big three: #pain, #fatigue, and #mindfog. We fight these literally all day at work, and, maybe like me, at home, too, through motherhood and menopause. I’m lucky I found a clinic using hormone therapy (properly) and alternative modalities which support my quality of life. My voice grew stronger here with medication helping restore brain function (for the most part) and medical staff letting me repeat (because I didn’t think I had been heard) my list of imbalances. Shackle the last 5 years to the pandemic, school during a pandemic in a State of Denial (Florida, you suck!) and hybrid learning platforms and online conferencing 7 hours/day (I’ve mentioned this before because its really, really not healthy).

Currently, my voice grows stronger because I listen to it. When this first happened, something changed. No words to describe this other than I #awakened (at least to myself), and discovered even through the worst pain (whether its a loved one or yourself) some way to be safe to do what had to be done because there was no other choice or the other choices were equally abysmal. To me, this is #strength, and 2020 (and this year) have gifted me multiple #irresistiblecircumstances from which to #practice embodying it in the #goodwork of school and home.

Eventually, from the surety of knowing I have #strength to lift, hold, and carry so much, I also know the potential of other aspects of my strength: those of injury, ego, hardness, rigidity, destination fixation, and self-destruction Strength can happen so fast; it’s a beautiful thing to see in others, especially when you have felt it in your own body. As I plan my last April class with a focus on #strength, I begin here–searching my notebooks, poems, journals–a collection of words, and ruminating while I dance or make dinner (or both), allowing my Day to unfold as it needs to, so certain I am I am #strongenough to use the seeds of #strength for work and study in the evenings, now that I feel better.

heil ok sæ