Sunday Mornings

Posted on by Esterina Anderson

Sunday mornings have always had a feel to me of a new dawning. No matter where I’ve been on a Sunday morning, I have felt a certain vibe in the air—that the day is even fresher than the Saturday and weekday mornings before it.

In cities, coffee shops are just opening, few cars are in movement on the streets, and most stores are closed. There is a certain quiet in the air. Softer movements. A slower vibe.

In suburban and rural towns, the atmosphere also has a peaceful quality. The strip mall lots and main streets are mostly empty, except perhaps for a convenience store, gas station, or breakfast shop.

Sunday morning is not quite as exciting to me as Saturday morning. Saturday morning is about chores, shopping, making plans for the evening. Sunday, for me, is more about taking time to wake up—enjoying my cup of coffee longer, mentally and physically getting ready for the week ahead, and having a whole day ahead of me to do so.

This cloudy, albeit beautiful morning is so very typical at this time in my life. I am up before anyone else at the moment. I came downstairs to the main kitchen/living area and it looks like (what we like to say) a bomb. But it is a bomb that I love. This scene is a snapshot in time—my life at almost 43, my family, where I happen to be in the world.

On Sunday morning, my house often has blankets strewn about the couches, the floor, and perhaps even a kitchen chair. Yesterday’s paper is usually lying about in a neat heap, still waiting to be read. The cats are milling and meowing like crazy for their morning meal of a little wet food. The counters and coffee table will often have mostly empty popcorn or snack bowls. A cold tea bag sits in an empty Starbucks mug from one of the cities we have visited. More often than not, there is an espresso cup somewhere with a small circle of dried, dark remnants sitting at the bottom. An open, unfinished bottle of wine sits on the counter with an accompanying wine glass or two—either in the sink with an amount too small to finish lying in the lowest nook of the glass, or haphazardly rinsed and left in the dish drain to dry. It’s not difficult to see what we did before bed, be it a puzzle, a card game, or just some movies, since the TV remotes or pieces of whatever we were doing are mostly left where we had them when everyone retired for bed.

I will either be up alone or with the hubby. The first order of business is to start the coffee. Then we quiet the little milling lions, who get increasingly vocal by the second until they receive their ever-so-desired wet, stinky cat food. Either alone or splitting up the tasks, we will start to load the dishwasher, open the blinds, fold the blankets, and put the house back in order.

Today I’m alone. I woke up before Daren, excited to begin a new day and continue to work on a painting that I am in the midst of completing. I cleaned up the house and then sat on the living room floor with two pillows beneath me, facing the East, to do some morning breathing and meditation. It’s a cloudy, dreary, gray morning—but beautiful nonetheless. The sun is still making its way up and about and brightening the day, even though we can’t see it.

I couldn’t help but take a picture of the scene I was looking at. Every morning it looks different. Even in its drab form, this morning was picturesque to me. I stepped outside to get a closer shot, and the air felt so fresh and cool I didn’t want to go back in. But I did—simply to get a chair and two blankets to take my morning practices outside.

It feels like Sunday. Even in February, birds are singing. I can’t see the town or even much of our neighborhood from the back porch, but nonetheless it has the Sunday morning vibe of serenity that I enjoy so much.

Nothing exciting, but I am feeling intense gratitude and oneness with the world at the moment. A snapshot in time. It’s just a beautiful and precious Sunday morning.

The page has turned. The week, day, and month are fresh. We write the story, whether we do so intentionally or not. Be mindful of your thoughts.

Namaste.

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On the Other Side of the Window

Posted on by Esterina Anderson

This first day of 2019, I sit in my dining room after a long run with a warm cup of tea in the sunshine, not far from our dog, who has also found comfort and post-holiday solace in a beam of sun.

Across the room are two potted plants I purchased this past spring. They are geraniums mixed with a few other plantings. They very happily lived on the front porch for the spring, summer, and early fall. As they began to die off when the weather cooled, I just happened to be reading a book where a woman in England talked about having her geranium plant for 13 years. She would bring it indoors each fall and back outside each spring. Instead of emptying the containers in the woods behind our home, as I normally would have done with these plants, I decided to try my hand at keeping these two lovelies alive through the winter.

This morning, when I opened the blinds to the new day and new year, I happened to see a little red bud on one of the plants. While I don’t believe the plant should be blooming, I was excited to see that my efforts are taking effect.

However, this afternoon while sitting in the same room I noticed the rose bush just on the other side of the window. It’s dead/hibernating in every way. There is also a little red bud on it that stopped growing mid-bloom during the first frost, and will never open to what would have been its full potential as a rose flower.
A close-up of green plant leaves with a blurred background featuring a small, reddish flower bud.
A potted plant with lush greenery sits on a wooden table near a window, with sunlight illuminating the leaves. A candle is placed on the windowsill, and a car is visible outside.

However, this afternoon, while sitting in the same room, I noticed the rose bush just on the other side of the window. It’s dead—hibernating in every way. There is also a little red bud on it that stopped growing mid-bloom during the first frost and will never open to what would have been its full potential as a rose flower.

The difference is the warmth, care, and attention I’m giving the geraniums. They get monthly plant food. They are shielded from the cold, just on the other side of the window. They have a fighting chance at survival. How is this not different from the way we treat others in the world?

Folks on the other side of the tracks. The homeless on the other side of the window from our homes, jobs, and businesses we frequent. The children who do not have the same opportunities to thrive to their fullest potential as many of their classmates, due to their home environment and lack of warmth and nurturing.

Last Thursday I drove down to Branford during rush hour. There was an accident on I-95 North at the ramp, and the signs on the highway suggested finding an alternate route. I followed my GPS, and a few turns later I didn’t recognize where I was or fathom how just a few turns away things were so different.

Suddenly there were really busted-up houses, apartments, and abandoned buildings. Check-cashing stores, pawn shops, rough-looking package stores, and one too many convenience merchants advertising the sins of the world. Folks were walking around hunched over with old clothes and hardly any outerwear. Drunken people around my age just wandering the streets alone or with another counterpart, barely aware enough to pay attention to oncoming traffic.

Just on the other side of town… as the rose bush is just on the other side of the window.

If the rose bush were also potted and brought in, the flowers would continue to thrive through the winter, just as they bloom nonstop in the warmer months.

I am fully aware that I’m not comparing apples to apples. The rose bush outside is a perennial and will resume its cycle in the spring. The geranium would not be alive next year if it were left out all winter.

But people are not flowers. We are born the same, not with such different gene sets like these two flowering plants. However, our circumstances often decide if we thrive or not. It’s the warmth and caring of our environment, town, parents, and community that determine if we bloom to our fullest potential or spend our lives just trying to stay alive.

It’s not fair.

Just on the other side of the window, the ones who are safe and warm have a duty to do something—simply because they have the power, energy, and stamina to do so. Because they can, I humbly believe that they should.

Peace ☮️

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How Change Works – In Honor of the Solstice

Posted on by Esterina Anderson

Lessons of Nature

Tonight is the longest night of the year in the Northern Hemisphere (so hopefully you have someone to snuggle up against to share it with!). Today officially starts winter. It sort of feels like we have been experiencing winter already. That means from this day on, the days get longer. One would think warmer times are ahead… right? But no—the coldest days are yet to come.

Similarly, around June 21st when summer begins, it feels like the solstice is nothing more than a formality—the summer has been around for a few weeks. But the truth is that it’s all only a perception. While we have had some cold days and even one snow (in Connecticut anyway), the truth of it all is that it hasn’t overall been that cold. Today my car showed it was in the 60s just to make this point.

My 19-year-old daughter’s birthday is in June. Most years, when planning her party, I had this crazy misconception that it would be warm during the planning phase of her parties. While some years it was, much to my dismay most of the time it was rather cold and rainy—and almost always too cold at night to keep any shorts or short sleeves on that one may or may not have worn during the day.

The lesson here is that even though things may look like something is happening (days getting longer from here, for example), there is a lag from the change and perception to when things really shake down, begin to happen, and take form.

The winter has only begun, but the days are actually getting longer [yay]. The heat from the longer sun will not be apparent until spring—and it won’t be felt at its maximum potential until after the summer solstice in SIX months from now, when the days will be technically getting shorter. What was a habit for longer will linger.

When we start new habits for a desired change such as losing weight, eating differently, or beginning a new routine, the effects will not take place until a long time after.

Does that mean we should quit and give up??? NO, No & no.

Like the sun providing longer days as of today, the toughest part is truly yet to come before reaping the benefits. Nature shows us this through seasonal changes.

This picture shows it well. The bigger arrow (perhaps depicting will for change) is fighting against all the old that is established. It’s a long, hard road to get past that fight. The only way this larger arrow can lose against all those smaller little ones is to give up and join them in the direction the will does not want to go.

Expecting to see a difference in the climate tomorrow or even next month is as unrealistic as eating well for a few days and expecting to fit into those old skinny jeans. One way to guarantee that you will never shimmy into those jeans is to defy natural laws—give up, order a pizza, and enjoy a six-pack just a week after starting. It just doesn’t work that way.

Change takes time. A lot of time. While the earth is tilting back toward the sun tomorrow, it will actually be colder and tougher for a while, weather-wise, before the benefits of that tilt take effect.

So enjoy the process… believe and trust in it. It’s really the ONLY way. Results are never immediate. Don’t give up. Keep your own light shining. And do what you need to do over and over to get the results you want. It’s the only way to reach your goals.

One day I will follow this advice too! Lol 😊
Happy 2018 Winter Solstice!
Namaste

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Gingerbread Cookie (Yum) Lesson

Posted on by Esterina Anderson

It’s the time of year for holiday baking! For a few years I skipped it completely. My friends and family moaned a little, but we used whatever money I would have spent making cookies and sending cards toward charity. This year I decided to make some cookies—only a batch of each to keep it all super low key. Also, as long as a nice large tray of cookies would be dropped off at the domestic violence shelter where I often make donations, it would still be for charity.

Yesterday, while making gingerbread men, I experienced a little of a spiritual quest, where the words of many who’ve walked before me sank even deeper.

Monday I made the gingerbread dough and popped it in the fridge until I was ready to roll it out later. Yesterday I worked from home, and following my lunch walk, I decided to pull out the dough so it would be perfectly soft when I logged off for the day. The cold air outside left me craving the warm smell of cookies in my home.

When it was time to roll, the consistency was just perfect. I preheated the oven and set to work making tiny little people with a brand new cookie cutter I purchased from Zabars on Sunday morning (for an unbelievable price, by the way). They were coming out seamlessly.

I knew I was going to freeze most of them, so I didn’t want to frost them. Instead, I opted to make three little indentations with an appetizer fork on their bellies for buttons, as well as on their feet to mimic a little cuff. For the eyes I used the back of a lobster pick. I decided against a mouth, nose, or cuffs for the arms. It was a bit too much, as this year I’m keeping it simple.

As I decorated the first batch, I couldn’t help but notice how different each cookie already looked. I attempted to make them all the same, but the place in the dough where I cut and the ever-so-slight differences in the eyes, buttons, and cuffs made each beautiful little gingerbread person unique in its own way.

I popped the first two trays in the oven and set to work on the second two trays. It was immediately apparent that the dough was already slightly warmer and a bit more difficult to cut. However, making the indentations was easier.

The first batch came out, and I loaded the second one in. I let the first two trays cool for a minute before carefully removing them with a spatula onto the cooling rack.

These cute little confections puffed up in the oven and began to sink back down as I started to lift them. As with many cookies (especially complicated cutouts), a few broke a little arm or leg in the process. Some had less deep button indentations. Some just cooked a little more than others depending on their place in the oven and how thick the dough was. Despite my attempt to make them uniform, nature, chemistry, and my own artistic abilities made each ever so slightly dissimilar to one another.

Some had gotten so puffed that they combined with neighboring cookies. I had to carefully cut them apart so I didn’t break either in the process. For some, it was difficult to distinguish which overlap belonged to which cookie.

This is where my mind went on that short spiritual quest.

Like people and animals, these little cookies were all distinct. Where does one person really begin and another end? Those cookies that stuck together came from the same batch. Where they overlapped, it was hard to tell who was who, as they are made from the same stuff. And does it matter, other than to the eye, that they are separate? It’s all just cookies that will taste more or less the same.

Then I thought… what if somehow these gingerbread cookies became conscious? Would they form a society and create a hierarchy of “better” or “worse” cookies based on cut, color, consistency, button depth, etc.? How crazy would that be? Not too long before that they were just ingredients in a store, then my fridge, then in a ball together. Why would they create a structure in which some have dominance or perceived superiority over another?

What if they split off into groups and started hating one another? Hating one another so much so that they began destroying one another based on their own gingerbread beliefs. Wouldn’t that be kind of crazy? Wouldn’t that defeat the purpose of making the cookies in the first place? Why would they fight over differences rather than celebrating how each is uniquely different?

Why do we think we are any different?

We are all made from the same fundamental “ingredients,” shaped by different conditions, experiences, and influences along the way. Deep down, we are far more alike than we are different. It’s only circumstance, environment, and the unfolding of life that creates variation in how we look, think, and move through the world.

We were created from the same source and, in many ways, for the same purpose. Maybe instead of focusing on our differences, we should be celebrating what makes each of us uniquely beautiful.

Lessons from the Gingerbread People

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One of my cookies—

A PTSD Triggered Morning

Posted on by Esterina Anderson

Morning of November 27th

Wide awake and pitch black. A quick look at the bedside clock reveals it’s only 4:40am. I still have over another hour to sleep.

My mind races with things I’m excited to do today. I don’t know how I could get them done, but I want to try to fit them in if at all possible. I would love to start the holiday baking. I have a scarf to finish and several more origami boxes for gifts to make. And definitely squeeze in a run. An appointment and work are the anchors of what I need to work around. I mentally strategize about how to make the fun stuff happen. Although I didn’t realize it at the time, looking back this crazy thought process was Clue #1 that I was anxious and trying to vet my energy in a positive way.

Then I remember it’s my husband Daren’s birthday! Maybe I should get up and make scones to surprise him with? I can do that, then maybe run before logging into work since I’m teleworking today. That would be a fine start to the day.

I forgo the attempt to go back to sleep and decide on birthday scones. Clue #2 that I wasn’t quite right should have been when I went into the bathroom for my Ayurvedic morning routine and didn’t quite screw a cap back on one of my oils before picking it up again… by the cap. Ugh, what a yucky mess.

I stumble downstairs in the dark, all set to make blueberry scones. The three cats are milling for breakfast and are so very underfoot. The sink is sort of full and the dishwasher needs to be emptied. I need to clear these things to bake—everything is in my way.

My heart starts to race. Clue #3. Things not going the way I expect. I take a deep breath and remind myself that nothing I am doing is truly necessary, has a deadline, and is only something I would like to do—not vital.

For a few minutes I feel calm and present as I put everything away, feed the cats, and rush over to open the blinds. Why am I rushing? Clue #4.

I also notice that last night we left a mess of pillows and blankets strewn all about the living room. Pet toys are everywhere. And there is cat puke to boot. I realize I’m rushing and that opening blinds can take place after I start to bake. Why do I need to keep reminding myself to slow down this morning? Clue #5.

I walk very slowly on purpose back to the kitchen and begin taking out the ingredients and supplies. I preheat the oven, start the coffee maker (how could I not have done that first thing? Clue #6), and begin assembling what I hope to be scones in a short 20 minutes or so.

Moments later my heart starts to race again. My breath is erratic. Clue #7.

Something is so wrong. But what?

Why, last Wednesday evening, did my son Tom snap at me when I asked him to keep the dog’s training collar on? I immediately get angry about this even though I didn’t at the time. The look of disgust on his face 10 minutes later when I asked him politely if something was wrong while I was in this same kitchen at this same counter, assembling the makings of a Thanksgiving dish.

“Like what?” I asked.

“Forget it, Ma! I’m taking the dog for a walk,” as he stormed out the door.

How dare he?

At the time I almost laughed it off. Immediately after the door slammed behind Tom, I asked my husband if I said anything wrong. He affirmed I had not in the very least. Hours later, while at his girlfriend’s house, Tom texted me to say he was sorry about snapping earlier and that he loves me. The whole episode was just not a big deal.

So why am I so upset this morning? Clue #8.

I start mixing the wet ingredients into the dry, being careful not to overmix. As I prepare the counter with a light dusting of flour before turning the dough onto the floured surface, I consider how much I cannot stand when someone accuses me of something I didn’t do and then gets mad at me for it.

Now my heart is really racing. I feel as if my life is at stake and I need to fight for it. Why am I even thinking about this now? Clue #9.

I continue to work, but my hands are shaking. I can’t concentrate. Clue #10.

I want to bring these things up with my son and husband. Unearth them. Find out what they were thinking. Clue #11.

There are two ways this story could go.

I could do just that… or I could remember that I have PTSD.

This morning, thankfully, I went with the latter.

In fact as soon as I came to terms with the very real fact that I have PTSD last summer it was an option at almost all moments when I had this feeling that something was just terribly wrong and at some point it started to feel like my life was at stake. My issue nowadays is that I always feel terrible when I miss the earlier clues. Sometimes I can catch them and breath or take a medication. But today I missed them all before I was fully triggered.

 

As I begin kneading the dough I thought more deeply about what I’m really, really feeling. I was likely triggered by Tom’s reaction simply by being in the kitchen in same way with the same light while it was dark outside. That trigger lead to thinking about my step-son months ago, but it really led all the way deep down into the child inside me that became frozen in a certain state 40+ years ago.

 

Being accused of something that wasn’t my fault, something I didn’t do, or something I couldn’t have possibly known was the norm. It often led to consequences where I was abused, sometimes very badly. My mom was often a bystander, not wanting to be abused herself. She would often look away or side with my father (the perpetrator). Someone standing by while I was unfairly accused hurt even more. Even though he didn’t mean it, Daren keeping his back turned or refusing to talk to me about the supposed wedding cake incident feels like a bystander not helping the child inside me in need.

 

Since this past summer I learned that long-term childhood abuse is particularly complex if it was at the hands of a caregiver, because as a child your actual survival is at stake. You need your caregivers to live. That terrified part of me has become frozen in time. I often handle situations like this and a handful of others that would have led to abuse in a similar manner. During the initial encounter I’m very strong. I act as if nothing is wrong, as I had to do as a child just to get through the episode. Crying wasn’t allowed, even while getting hit- in fact it made things worse. I learned to deal with an incident by being strong and doing whatever I need to do. The hurt, terror and anger always came later and still does until this day when an old wound is rubbed, some time has passed, and my body feels safe and I’m re-triggered. Which often enough strangely leads me to feel as if I’m in survival mode. My heart, my breath, the crazed thoughts. My lower brain’s alarm signals to me that I need to fight for my rights, get out, get even, I’m being wronged, etc.

 

We all have that lower brain (the reptilian one without higher rational thought-like a crocodile). Mine recognizes triggers that were necessary for survival long ago and all our lower brains possess the ability to shut down the executive functioning portion of the brain if survival really is at stake when we need to flight, flight or freeze. It’s how we are built. The problem with PTSD is that sometimes the danger is only perceived and not even real. If the person doesn’t catch it, they have an episode which isn’t pretty. When I’m already anxious before I’m triggered I’m far more likely to not notice.

 

While folding blueberries into the scone dough, my higher and lower brain were in conflict. The part that I innately identify as me (more or less the higher, rational thinking part of the brain) was telling myself I was alright, I’m only in my kitchen; totally safe- I am and will be ok.

 

This part of my physical symptoms of being triggered are where adrenaline has entirely flooded my body. I can feel it’s desperate need to be released. I start to boil with heat. I hyperventilate and often cry uncontrollably. The next few hours are always recovery. Sometimes this happens often – several days in a row. I’m told it’s normal as you are going through PTSD treatment to go through time periods like this. When a childhood trauma victim feel safe as an adult- however many years or decades later, the body begins healing itself through bringing up old cellular memories in order to rid the body of deep-rooted habits/reactions/etc that no longer serve it.

 

I put the scones in the oven and set the timer. I’m lost. What was I going to do next? Did I make the coffee yet? I’m dazed, I’m confused, I’m sad… I’m just overwhelmingly dysfunctional. Daren comes down. Today I can explain my full thought process. We hug. I cry. I can hardly pick up a cup without almost dropping it. The scones are ready. We enjoy them although I can’t finish even one.

 

Sounds crazy? Yes, I know. But overall, I’m feeling better day by day. I know I need to go through this to get over/past/through – however it’s best phrased “it”. I continue to be patient and greet whatever arises, being careful to not get suckered into false alarms. That’s the trickiest part.

But I’m OK. I’m enjoying the healing, one cell at a time.

 

Social Media Disclaimer:

Many people often ask me why I so freely share my troubles. I share because I’ve found shame for so long in not being perfect. I’ve felt for too long like damaged goods I’ve learned none of us could ever be perfect and to even try to entertain such a thing or put on that façade is a set up for failure and takes WAY too much energy. We all suffer and we can only gain strength with connection. So I’m living the change I’d like to see by normalizing what is after all very normal.

 

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Hygge (Hoo Guh) & How I Plan to Embrace Winter this Year

Posted on by Esterina Anderson

I never heard this word until last week. I was starting to plan for the holidays and feeling really festive and excited—until my heart sank thinking about January and the rest of the winter.

I REALLY don’t like the winter. But it’s an inevitable part of life. If I’ve learned anything this year that is positively impacting my life, it is to enjoy the moment, whatever it is, as this too shall pass. Alan Watts wrote a book called This Is It. Meaning, as we are waiting for life to start or get better, we are actually wasting it—because the whole thing, the good, the bad, the ugly… the joys, sweat & tears… and even traffic is “it.”

I hardly noticed the winter until the year I was pregnant with Gabby. She was due in June, and around February I really started nesting. I had a paper calendar on the wall at the time (who didn’t in 1999?), and on the last day of February I excitedly turned the page and saw the beautiful spring picture for March. My heart filled with joy. I was so excited and ready for spring. I went to bed happily anticipating the coming months. But when I woke up, it was still freezing, dark, and wet. Weeks later, it was still freezing, dark, and wet. That same year, as the days turned darker and colder in October, I realized I am one of the thousands I had been hearing in the background who dislike what feels like the never-ending season of winter.

20 years later and I’m still a hater. I want that to change, or at least to accept it the way I can smile and catch myself from feeling grumpy during traffic. This is a totally new concept for me—to accept even a yucky present moment [most of the time anyway] and tell myself that this is really it. This is life. There is nothing else, and even this could be kind of enjoyable when I realize I’m alive and experiencing what exists in the spectrum of living experiences.

So I went to my best ally that I turn to for answers (Google, of course) and asked, “How to enjoy winter?”

Almost every search response turned up this word “Hygge,” pronounced “hoo-guh” (I personally like the way I was pronouncing it in my mind better, but that is neither here nor there). Apparently it’s a Danish word that loosely translates to coziness. The Danish are well known as one of the happiest cultures in the world, but also have one of the more harsh winters with a population of human settlers. What is their secret?

One can look on their own—I’m not going to go bonkers writing it all out—but the general concept is to embrace it, do all the things inside that you’ve been putting off, make time for friends no matter the weather, and indulge in winter foods, clothes, and warm beverages. Embracing it means hunkering down and getting cozy. Lots of candles, soft light, and blankets. Also, going outside every day for a bit no matter how dark or cold. Not only is the fresh air and movement of walking a benefit, but the contrast back into the cozy home makes it all the more sweet.

As I raked leaves at both of our homes this week, covered the stubborn little spring bulbs I recently planted that were poking up, and started to put away the outdoor summer items, I felt a sense of connection to the earth and, dare I say, even slight excitement toward this season for the first time ever.

Being prepared and doubling down on making my home cozier than ever felt right. I ordered non-holiday candles for my windows that I plan not to move until the sun starts to set at an earlier hour next year. I purchased battery-operated string lights for little places in the home near the potted plants I brought in from the outside for the winter for extra light and cheer. I hope to have a fire almost every evening (mental note: need to have the hubby show me how first), so I ordered a ton of firewood just for the occasion. AND I put it on the porch right outside the front door so it stays dry and seasoned—and it is close enough to not groan about having to trek anywhere else outside to get it.

What else?

I’m making a list of movies I’ve always wanted to see. Creating a pile of books to keep in the living room that I want to read this winter. I am putting together exciting crockpot, dessert, and soup recipes to try. I have a list of electronic things I never get to that I want to cross off my mental to-do list forever.

I also made a list of things to do on weeknights and weekends that aren’t as appealing in the warm months because the draw to be outside is so much greater. Some of those things are to use the sauna we have in the basement, cross-country ski (we have a trail within .2 miles from our front door), put together puzzles we bought and never touched, paint, write, color, knit, take online classes to get CEUs or just learn about something I’ve always wanted to know more about, go to plays and musicals at local theaters, visit museums, try new coffee shops…

Just writing it all out again makes me feel like the whole winter might not be enough time for all these great activities! Could it be that I can enjoy these months? I hope so! It still might not shake out to actually be enjoyable, but it absolutely won’t be if I don’t realize all the cool ways I could embrace and make the most of it. Fingers crossed.

If you are one of the many like me who dreads these months and found an idea or two here to make it more bearable—then this was worth the time to write and share.

Here is to embracing it all, because after all, this is it.

~Esterina

Welcome Winter

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My wood pile on the porch. This was taken only yesterday after moving a half cord of wood myself and then making a large tarp to keep it all warm & dry. I put kindling in flower pots. Today the scene is full of snow!
Now a day later.
Welcome Winter

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On the Spiritual Aspect of Halloween

Posted on by Esterina Anderson

I have always loved the autumn. The cooler air, the deep, rich colors, the shifts in daylight; and yes—the heavier, warmer foods and attire that are part of the shifting season package. My “Vata Dosha” (the who?—something my yogi friends would get and isn’t too relevant at the moment) is supposed to really not like this time of year. And even though my body has a serious cold intolerance (I mean SERIOUS), I have still always felt some sort of magic in the air, chills notwithstanding.

Somewhere between the cooling temperatures that take place a few weeks post–Labor Day and Thanksgiving sits Halloween—smack dab in the middle-ish of it all. I realize that it’s become a very commercial holiday laced with sweets and costumes, but there had to be a reason that it’s celebrated at the time it is.

I’ve briefly read in the past that it was a Pagan tradition that the church latched onto to help converts to Christianity experience something familiar. I knew about the European tradition of the jack-o’-lantern. And last year, when my husband and I were in South Africa on Halloween Day, I wondered why it wasn’t celebrated much in the Southern Hemisphere.

I grew up going to Catholic school. Halloween for me was exciting, not just for the trick-or-treating, but because the next day was All Saints’ Day and we had no school.

I also know that Mexico celebrates this same time with a Day of the Dead celebration, Día de Muertos.
Saints? The dead? This kind of had something in common, right?

This year I volunteered to teach a yoga class on Halloween evening. While considering how not to avoid saying anything about the day of the year it is in class, I went on an online hunt to find the spiritual meaning behind this tradition. I found it fascinating enough to share what our elders may have been sensing when they established this time of year for this tradition.

I learned that Halloween really isn’t celebrated in the Southern Hemisphere because it’s the seasonal shift from warmth to coolness that makes the veil between our world and others feel thin. Southern Hemisphere traditions mark a similar shift in their own seasonal timing, which makes sense as that time of year mirrors what we are experiencing now.

The idea of a thin veil would make it easier to honor and feel connected to those who have passed—hence Mexico’s Day of the Dead.

But why now?

I couldn’t find much online, even on what I would consider to be “junky” sites. From my own understanding of nature, it actually does make sense that it is now. We just experienced the height of summer, and that strong “yang” energy is starting to dwindle away. The mix of lingering warmth and emerging coolness seems to naturally slow us down and turn us inward.

It’s an interesting time of year from the Ayurvedic perspective, the way I understand it, in that we are entering a cyclical time of letting go, with plant and tree life ending and the preparation of the cold, frozen season ahead. Additionally, at this time the elements feel briefly balanced—earth, water, fire, air, and ether. That balance, paired with the transition from life to dormancy, feels like a natural point of connection to the broader cycles of the universe.

As above, so below—in that the laws of nature are consistent everywhere, in the heavens as on earth. Birth and early life (spring), the high point of life (summer), the elder years and letting go (fall), and the quiet, unseen preparation for new life (winter). There is no true end point—it just continues to cycle and transform.
So without getting any more wonky than I’m starting to sound, I’m going to end it here. If you’ve followed my attempt to explain my crazy point—great! And if not, that’s ok too. Maybe a seed you would like to cultivate has been planted. Or perhaps this is just all a bunch of nonsense that many of us like to dabble in while we have fun celebrating Halloween, watching scary movies, and dressing up as something we normally wouldn’t. It’s all in good fun.

In preparation for my yoga classes this week, I think I’m going to focus on embracing the unknown and the lessons this time of year can offer us—learning to sit with what feels uncertain, honoring cycles of both life and loss, and recognizing that growth often begins in places we can’t yet see clearly.
Enjoy all that nature has to offer!

Peace

Thanks for taking the time to read. I’d love to hear your thoughts!

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On Navigating with Love

Posted on by Esterina Anderson

There are some experiences in life that seem almost magical or otherworldly as they happen. Sometimes it is when you meet someone and you get a sense of déjà vu or a flash of unexplained feelings. Or when you hear or read something that just seems to strike some sort of chord within you about its unexplainable truth.

One of the dozen or so times this happened to me is when I had first read that the soul is the connection to the divine (God, nature, or whatever you choose to call all that is). I was so moved by this simple statement. The truth of it was so obvious to me in that moment that it sparked one of those otherworldly flash feelings. The article discussed how the soul doesn’t dish out advice like our loud, animal, thinking brains do. But if you quiet the monkey mind and ask your soul for guidance, the right answer is always there waiting to be heard.

Wow. Yes.

I knew that somewhere but didn’t realize it until then. A few hours later, after mulling it over, I posted something on Facebook about it—a short quote I made up as my own interpretation of this. It had very few “likes.” Guess my Facebook tribe didn’t get it.

Not long after, I heard a podcast about the moral compass. The speaker explained how we experience negative emotions (depression, hopelessness, anxiety, etc.) when we aren’t living according to our moral compass.
Right—that makes sense too. And in my own interpretation, I understood that moral compass connection to be through the soul, which is connected to all that is. When we can’t hear or follow that sound advice and live against it, we feel unhappy.

Then, not long after, I started to better understand the deeper meaning of the yoga I was attracted to. The focused attention of breath and movement quieted the monkey mind. Meditation and quieting the mind became a way to really hear that inner guidance—something that, without question, always knows the right and loving way to be in this world.

I felt so inspired to write this morning because when I opened my email, something caught my eye strongly enough for me to open it. It spoke about the idea that love is not something we earn, but something that exists as our foundation—and that it is from that place that real change happens.

The message brought the idea of the soul and moral compass home for me. It reflected on the idea that we are created in the likeness of the divine (or nature, or whatever we connect to spiritually), and that likeness is love.

The takeaway, as I understood it, is that when we are not living from a place of love, we are out of alignment with who we truly are. And when we are living with love, we are acting in accordance with our deepest truth.

Love… Love it. To me that says it all.

Maybe, just maybe… the allegory of the apple and the suffering that followed was about losing trust in that love. Not listening to the soul. Not having faith in what is.

The soul knows. Perhaps we should listen a bit closer. It’s always there—the quiet, steady voice. Not the loud one demanding attention, but the softer one that doesn’t need to shout to be true.

Maybe listening to it really is a step away from fear and suffering.

Hey… it’s worth a try!

Thanks for taking the time to read. I’d love to hear your thoughts!

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The Harvest Starts in the Mind

Posted on by Esterina Anderson

In the yoga classes I’ve taught this past week, the theme I have been focusing on is “The Harvest.” The chosen reason is the time of the year here in the Northern Hemisphere, especially where we live in New England. The purpose of this theme, however, is not about the crops we need to harvest before the first frost (which was last night), but all “seeds” and “harvests” for the future.

Not sure what it has to do with yoga? If you are still with me, please allow me to explain.

A seed is just a seed all by itself. A lettuce seed alone has nothing but the potential to become lettuce. If I plant lettuce seeds in the ground in the month of April (appropriate for our Connecticut hardiness zone), there is a decent chance it will grow lettuce. But if I plant a cucumber seed in April, it will absolutely not grow into lettuce, and there is a slim chance it will grow at all. Cucumber seeds can only thrive after the last frost. Hence, it would be best to plant them in mid-May for any hope of having a cucumber in August.

So far I have a seed, dirt, and weather that will hypothetically allow me to harvest cucumbers. Seeds, dirt, and weather are not that insanely different from the potential we have as humans to manifest goals or create the type of life we desire. In churches and other spiritual communities and texts, we will often hear the phrase “As above, so below.”

What does that mean? It means the physical world is not all that different from the mental and spiritual worlds. Even though we can’t see those other worlds, the laws of nature are consistent.

Like seeds, our thoughts are just thoughts alone. The properties of a thought will only bring forth that thought. If I’d like to lose 10 pounds, it’s only a thought or wish until I do something with it. Additionally, wishing it will not yield me a promotion or the improvement of a relationship that I’d like to enhance… obviously. With me so far?

Next, that thought is planted or “sown” in my mind. The mind is not so dissimilar to the soil that we plant our seeds in. The thought that I would like to lose 10 lbs in a mind racing with anxiety, wrought with depression, or full of a stressed-out “to do” list will only go into an abyss of other competing and negative thoughts. Similar to how planting a cucumber seed in sand, in the snow, or even in April—the mind’s condition would not be right to help a positive thought manifest into the raw potential it has.

This is where yoga comes in.

Yoga is not solely about moving around in different poses (or asanas). Yoga means to “yoke.” This sacred Sanskrit term is used to signify the connections between spirit, mind, and body. Whether we are moving through poses, meditating, chanting, doing breath work, etc., what we are really doing is creating a connection of our physical body to our mind and spirit—creating a sense of equilibrium between all three, which are really one beautifully operating unit. It’s difficult to have anxiety when the mind, body, and spirit are yoked in meditation or savasana (that last pose in most yoga classes where you actually enjoy laying around doing nothing for a few minutes).

When we are in balance, the mind is clear. When we sow thoughts in a clear mind, it is akin to planting seeds in proper conditions. When the mind is not clear, thoughts will still grow in murky conditions. These conditions often generate unwanted outcomes. For example, anxious thoughts will thrive and create even more anxiety in a busy mind. The mind is constantly creating whether we get involved with what is put in or not—analogous to how weeds will grow without involvement.

Yoga helps clear the mind through pointed focus and awareness. Focusing on breathing while mindfully moving from posture to posture in an average American yoga class (which is what comes to mind for most when they picture yoga) helps us to stay in the present moment and pay less attention to the wandering mind. When we are on the mat and feeling the slight shifts and sensations of our bodies, we are connecting our physical body with our inner selves. While sitting in a posture for a short while, if the body is relaxed and the mind wanders, it becomes very clear what is in there as thoughts arise.

A beautiful characteristic of yoga is that the habits we build on the mat will begin to stay with us off the mat.

A remarkable trait about thoughts is that you can change them.

If we don’t like what is coming up, we don’t have to actually keep thinking them. With a little practice of strengthening the mind, we are able to notice thoughts that aren’t aligned with the life we want and modify them.

Ignoring or changing unwanted thoughts and clearing our minds creates the proper soil and weather conditions to grow an aspired thought into reality. This will give us the boost to perform the last and third step of harvesting what we would like. That last step is the physical work.

If we plant cucumber seeds in mid-May and walk away… maybe we will have some cucumbers, but not likely. Chances increase if we ensure the seeds are properly watered, have the right amount of sun, and weeds are kept at bay—at least initially. As the season progresses and cucumber buddings begin to grow and get stronger, we still need to keep an eye on them, but weeds and unexacting sun and water levels are less likely to halt the progression of physical cucumbers.

We have to do the work. Once new habits are built and ingrained into our neural pathways and routines, less focus needs to be put on sustaining the desired result. Keeping 10 lbs off is easy with good habits because we essentially reap what we sow—physically and mentally. If you don’t have a crop harvest right now, it’s only because you didn’t plant seeds and nurture them in the spring.

The laws of nature as we know them work the same in the mind/spirit world.

Yoga helps us to create the harvest (albeit “life”) we want by cultivating a healthy mind-body-spirit connection. The take home—mind your thoughts, as they can and will create the life and harvest you have.

NAMASTE

 

Why Telework Works (For Me and the Workplace)

Posted on by Esterina Anderson

Teleworking really isn’t for everyone. There are so many people that I talk to who tell me they could never do it. If you even think it’s not for you, it’s not. However, if it’s something you have the opportunity to do and are considering, allow me to share why it works for me and how I feel it is beneficial to our workplaces. I now have a full year under my belt of at least one day a week. A few months ago I moved to two days, and most recently, since my office has been under construction, all my work time has been at home.

For starters, I can sleep in much later. When you eliminate the commute time, parking, and walking an additional quarter of a mile to my office, and the time I was spending before work to shower, dress, and primp for the day, I am able to sleep in over an hour longer than I was before. I could stand to sleep in even longer, but I get up to enjoy a leisurely cup of coffee, a healthy, non-rushed breakfast, and a short meditation session before I log in for the day. My morning routine is so much more pleasant. I no longer feel tired all the time or dread getting up.

Next, I’m unbelievably comfortable for a variety of reasons. The most striking is in the attire I can wear. When I dress after waking up, I put on comfy workout clothes so I can go for a lunch run later in the day. Also, my desk, chair, and surrounding workspace at home are completely suited to my height, likings, and taste. I can control the temperature of the room. Throughout the day, my cats and dog come to visit, hang around, and sleep on or near me. Their presence reminds me I’m home if I briefly get swept away in workplace politics. Not to mention that looking at them and petting them just seems to soothe my soul.

I move around much more. My chair swirls and doesn’t have weird side bars that give my legs bruises when I curl up in my chair as I type away. I’ll take stretch breaks and do some reinvigorating yoga poses that I wouldn’t dream of doing at the office. When I get up to make cups of warm herbal tea throughout the day, instead of walking across the room to the microwave like I do at work, I walk down a flight of stairs and don’t feel grossed out by the water supply or my surroundings. But my favorite is that I use my lunch break to run. I used to use that same break to walk at work. This required changing my shoes, never being appropriately dressed for the weather, and worrying about getting too warm. Now I can perspire as much as I’d like without worry.

I am so much more focused and productive. I’m not distracted by idle chatter or sharing my own nonsensical stories. There are no crazy alarms going off, constant overhead announcements, or loud trash barrels rolling by as I try to converse over the phone. I don’t see or hear the dings and distractions of other people’s computers, desk phones, and cell phones. I don’t overhear anyone else’s personal or professional conversations. Two job roles back, I worked for 7 years in a corridor that had a one-person, non-gender-specific restroom right down the hall from my desk and around the corner from the transportation department, where the drivers would pop in and out all day to use the facilities. The noise of a flushing toilet and horrendous smell would permeate my senses all day. One of my favorite funny memories from that job was when my then boss, who had an adjacent office to mine, said, “Not only do we have to put up with a bunch of sh!t, but it actually has to smell like it too.”

Along the lines of focus, I pay attention during conference calls like I never had before. Unless I have a part to play in a conference call meeting, at work I find it nearly impossible to pay attention. I’m in front of my computer and always multitasking. Now I use conference call times to walk around the house and do some mindless work. I’ll sometimes sweep, start dinner, grab the mail, or do some other random things. Because I’m physically moving while mentally listening and not trying to do two mental activities at once, I am paying far more attention than I ever had on calls before. I’ll often unmute my phone and pipe in or stop to take notes in my email. That is something I hardly ever did at my desk.

It’s overall healthier too. I am in touch with what is going on outside weather-wise because I have windows. Many spaces I have worked in over the years have had no windows or access to the outside. Sometimes, on a sunny day, I will take my laptop out to the deck and actually feel the sun on my skin. The air quality at home isn’t “iffy.” I’m eating better too. At the office, if I forgot my lunch or decided I am not in the mood to eat what I brought, I would stand on a long cafeteria line and purchase something overpriced and not quite as good for me as the things I have at home.

At the end of the day, I log off and hop into the shower. I’m dried and ready for the evening before I would have even been on I-91 sitting in traffic and feeling extremely agitated.

Monetary savings in food, gas, and clothing. Comfort. Healthier atmosphere and food. More sleep. More time. All good stuff, huh?

Enough about me—this can reap great benefits for employers as well.

For starters, there is likely less unexpected or short-term notice time off. Snow days are just as productive and not to mention safer on both ends. If an employee doesn’t feel well but slugs into the office, other employees get sick, then they get their children sick. Then the children need to stay home, be picked up from school, or not be allowed in daycare, which is more time off for others. An employee without a telework agreement who opts to stay home will cost the organization a full day of work. An employee with one who opts to work sick from home loses the organization very little. Additionally, a doctor appointment in the middle of the day before telework for either my children or myself used to mean a whole morning or afternoon off—usually the afternoon, because trying to find a parking space by 8am where I work is like trying to find a needle in a haystack.

Speaking of parking and space, allowing employees to telework creates both. Office space in many organizations is at a premium. Even having everyone telework one day a week (staggered) would free up 20% of office and parking space.

There is overall less wasted time throughout the day. Lines at the coffee shop, lines in the cafeteria, waiting for elevators, looking for an open bathroom, being in a queue just to warm up food in the microwave, that third Wednesday of each month where the computers reboot for what seems like infinity… just to name a few. Not to mention a lot of time chit-chatting and socializing. Yes, there are times the remote connection kicks me off, but the overall time savings favor the employer with all the other time wasters that happen in the office.

Safety is always an issue. When I was the strategic planner for VA Connecticut, one couldn’t imagine the number of complaints that would come in every week about air quality, requests for asbestos checks, mold checks, ripped carpets that folks trip over, furniture with sharp edges, etc. When it rains or snows, someone was always bound to fall—meaning a visit to employee health, days off, workers’ comp… all kinds of stuff no employer really wants.

Employees are happier when they aren’t rushed, eating well, sleeping more, saving money, moving around, and feeling like their employer is doing something mutually beneficial for both of them. How can you go wrong?

Well… many things can go wrong. That could be a whole other blog. It may be comforting, however, to know there is some strong, sound advice, policies, and guidelines out there. My organization, for example, has trainings required by both the employee and supervisor before beginning. Additionally, clear expectations are required to be written up, and it comes with the caveat that either party can terminate it at any time. Why not swipe some of these best practices from a person or whole organization that does it well? There are hundreds of articles on the web and in HR journals around the world about why it’s a win-win for all to adopt it, and nearly none on how terrible it has gone.

For now, if you are thinking about using an existing policy or implementing one in the workplace, these are some of the reasons I would humbly advocate for it on both ends. I am sure I’m missing many more benefits! Please don’t hesitate to pipe in or comment if you know of any. Horror stories are welcome too!

Thanks for taking the time to read. I’d love to hear your thoughts!

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One of my “co workers”

View from my desk