On Why I Clean Everyday

Posted on by Esterina Anderson

First – why do you care? Haha, but really… If you care at all, why do you? How does it affect you?

When I was 22 years old I moved to Cape Cod. I was entering the Active USCG Reserves while transitioning from a military member to a military spouse. My new home was located on a military base. It was not my first home as an adult, but it was the first home I set up alone.

This period was a transitional time in my life. Before then I went straight from high school into the military. I was married just over a year later and unexpectedly pregnant 6 months after that. My life was busy and I had not truly actively planned anything in my life until that point. As I looked around at all the boxes and pictures to hang, the disorder around me was affecting my mind. Or was it the disorder in my mind affecting my outer world?

I quickly went to work setting up home. While I opened boxes, and organized the outward disarray, the disorder in my mind started to unravel into digestible thoughts. How do I gather all the college credits I accumulated into applying for a degree? Do I quit smoking? Have another baby? What do I want to be when I grow up?

As I unpacked and moved items, then moved items again into better places I made notes – call the education office, look into the local college, schedule that physical, reach out to neighbors, ask about pediatricians, talk to spouse about a new baby while this little guy was still young so he had a playmate…

The act of outwardly organizing was helpful. I was making progress on something important, but also the monotony combined with the active thinking of where we would most easily grab a plate was just enough active/inactive brain power to keep my mind focused on thinking about the next phase of my life.

When the house was all set up and arranged just so, I missed the act of taking care of it. So I cleaned it really well. Again, the repetition and combination of active/inactive thought was helpful in  organizing my inner thoughts. As they were all I had while doing this type of work.

I learned then I very much enjoyed cleaning. All these years later I would label what I was doing as a sort of meditation. But at the time it only felt like cleaning. I started to clean everyday in various ways. There was everyday picking up (dishes, laundry, diapers, trash, wipe the table…) but also things that needed to happen often but not daily – wash floors, launder sheets, clean bathroom. I put the nondaily essentials into a schedule for myself the way I learned in my years of cooking and ended up doing meal planning and shopping… basically transferring my work skills to my home. Then I moved these things to the outside – fix fence, mow lawn, ask about the grass seeds that are supposedly free…

I met my neighbors. They were all lovely. The one who was the friendliest lived across the street and worked on the base as a cleaner for the military houses in between family transitions. I don’t remember her name but I will call her Melanie. I asked Melanie what she did when she cleaned these empty houses and she told me all about the floors and the blinds and the walls and corners, and all the checkboxes she had to complete. Surprisingly her house was quite a mess and she didn’t really enjoy cleaning. But she did comment that she saw me cleaning often.

What ???

Saw me cleaning? How?

Through your window Melanie replied…

Through my window I thought?

Now I was embarrassed. But intrigued by what she told me. I hadn’t thought about cleaning blinds or paying attention to ceiling or floor corners.

A day or two later I decided to tackle the blinds. As I was doing so Melanie waved to me from insider her home across the street. I was slightly embarrassed yet again but continued to clean the blinds as if it were a normal everyday occurrence.

The next time I saw Melanie she commented on my cleaning again. Melanie commenting on my cleaning became the standard. It embarrassed me so I often would wait until I didn’t see her mini-van in the carport to clean anywhere near my own windows or outside.

None-the-less from there I continued a lifelong habit of cleaning nearly daily and scheduling various cleaning tasks for various days of the week.

Through the years I’ve had to explain and defend my cleaning to my partners, neighbors, kids, step-kids, friends who comment with some kind of annoyance that my house is clean. I was always trying to hide it, clarify where I saw dirt or oils, negotiate with the kids to just vacuum that room – yes on this vacuum setting. It was exhausting. I loved to clean when no one was home so I didn’t have to explain it.

Which brings me to the point of this blog. Why did anyone care that I was cleaning in the first place? I didn’t really ask for help. The kids chores of table setting, dish washing, cleaning their own bathrooms on a schedule or scraping the cat litter of the cats they wanted were not chores of some Nazi clean loving freak. The cleanliness of other people’s homes doesn’t affect how much I enjoy visiting their home or their company in any way. I’m not judging those who don’t like to clean. I know I’m unusual in this particular way.

Which brings me to a bigger question. Why does anyone really care what other people do? How they take care of their home, how often they cut their lawn, their hair, their fingernails? How deep into my life do you care about what I do? Why does my lawn count and my fingernails not so much?

At what point does what I do affect truly affect anyone else? Or does what I am doing make others reflect on what they are doing? And is that really my problem? Should I be hiding my true nature in worrying about how others will look at me or themselves?  I did hide my real self for a long time worrying about what other people thought. That was not healthy.

This question grows from me into the larger scale. Why does anyone care who anyone loves or how they use their body to please a lover? How does the spices one uses in their cooking matter to you? Why does it matter how other cultures cook, pray, love, dress, and take care of one another?

Yes – there are things that affect other people in some ways. But not as many as you think. Maybe the one house on the block with the overgrown lawn can bring down the property value of the street. There are things you can have influence over – like talking to that homeowner and maybe even offering to cut their lawn because it’s a single parent short on time. But perhaps do back down and accept how things are if that person doesn’t reply the way you’d like. You cannot control other people and just because you don’t like something they do or don’t do, it doesn’t make them wrong or crazy. Why waste any mental energy on something you cannot control?

I’m not saying it’s easy to do this, I’m just offering the suggestion to ask yourself why you might care and why you are wasting your mental energy on something you can’t control. There is a locus of what you can control, influence and what you have no control over.

I clean all the time. I like it. It clears my mind. For me the house doesn’t need to be very dirty to clean it (most folks shower daily even when they aren’t that dirty). It is something in this crazy world that I feel I have control over. I like the way I feel after moving around and taking care of the animate and inanimate objects that I own like my bed, plants and pets. I like the way those objects like being taken care of by me. I like the way my surroundings look. The question I asked myself when I was 22 about the disorder of my environment affecting my mind or if it was the other way around is irrelevant to me today. Both matter and this is one of my methods to tackle both.

But why do I need to even explain that?

So I ask again and again and again… why does it matter?

You have control over the thoughts about why this or anything matters. Are you wasting your energy on something you want to waste it on? Do you have control over it? Influence? Neither?

I’m going to clean whether anyone likes it or not. I hope you collect your gnomes or pink socks or do whatever it is that you like as well as long as no one is getting hurt. Don’t worry if I like it, I love you for being you and doing what you love.

Make sure you are doing no harm and then do what you love without shame or question or worry.

Be the change you want to see. Be what you wish the world to be.

It’s all you can do.

On the Teacher and Communication 

Posted on by Esterina Anderson

This story (two paragraphs down) has come up for me in various ways during past few weeks. I’ve been referencing it in thought and in conversations. I feel the story is rich with many lessons, particularly the meat of the story on emotions. One lesson I continue to ponder and adjust my own behavior on is clarity in communication.

This week alone there were at least five occasions at work and three at home where I was listening intently to another person and either during the communication or shortly thereafter realized that there was more than one way to interpret what was being said. Yesterday I interrupted an ongoing written chat to suggest that it’s difficult to get what is inside one person’s head into another’s and asked if we could verbally communicate. Since I read and discussed this story, I have been picking up the phone and turning on my camera far more often than before to make sure that I am on the same page as the other individual(s) I am working with. 

Negative Emotions by Lydia Davis

A well-meaning teacher, inspired by a text he had been reading, once sent all the other teachers in his school a message about negative emotions. 

The message consisted entirely of advice quoted from a Vietnamese Buddhist monk:

Emotion, said the monk, is like a storm: it stays for a while and then it goes. Upon perceiving the emotion (like a coming storm), one should put oneself in a stable position. One should sit or lie down. One should focus on one’s abdomen. One should focus, specifically, on the area just below one’s navel, and practice mindful breathing. If one can identify the emotion as an emotion, it may then be easier to handle.

The other teachers were puzzled. They did not understand why their colleague had sent a message to them about negative emotions. They resented the message, and they resented their colleague. They thought he was accusing them of having negative emotions and needing advice about how to handle them. Some of them were, in fact, angry.

The teachers did not choose to regard their anger as a coming storm. They did not focus on their abdomens.  They did not focus on the area just below their navels. Instead, they wrote back immediately, declaring that because they did not understand why he had sent it, his message had filled them with negative emotions. They told him that it would take a lot of practice for them to get over the negative emotions caused by his message. But, they went on, they did not intend to do this practice. Far from being troubled by their negative emotions, they said, they in fact liked having negative emotions, particularly about him and his message.

This reading opened my eyes to how often there is a disconnect between what is said and what is understood. I just haven’t noticed this before. It is particularly apparent when the communication is in writing.

I would like to convey that reading something like this on my own is different than hearing it read. Moreover, the more I read it; the richer it becomes. And when it’s discussed with other people I get perspectives I would have never come to on my own. 

Well DUH…

This is often the case for me too in a local library writing group I attend and a banned book club that I often participate in.

My favorite recent example of this “Duh” is after reading this passage about the teacher, a member of the group brought up the author’s use of the words “well-meaning teacher”. A poignant question was asked –Would the story have been interpreted differently had those 3 words not been there?

Good question! And my own answer is yes- absolutely. 

In one the many recent times I brought this story up and related it to a topic that was being discussed, the idea of being a third-party observer came to mind. The third party (reader) could discern that the teacher’s well-meaning intention does change the nature of the story. But that cannot necessarily be seen if you are a character in the story. 

I would like to say that in the past I looked at all perspectives and intents neutrally; but that wouldn’t be an honest assessment if I am honest with myself.

I know I always intended to do this. I know often I tried to put myself in the other person’s shoes. I know sometimes (more rarely) I did try to imagine I was writing a position paper and imagined how one could argue both sides. But those were for touchy issues. In my everyday life while communicating I assumed I understood and was being understood. Something about this story of the teachers flipped that assumption for me. 

Recently I have been looking at all communication with the assumption that I probably don’t understand and I’m probably not being understood. 

In the end what does this all mean? Well, that we need to pay attention more to what we are saying and how we are listening.

Soooooo….. at this point I could imagine one saying 

“That sounds complicated Esterina, I don’t have time or patience to think about everything I am about to say or think about what you mean!”

… and I can’t really disagree. What I am describing takes mental work and a little time that I didn’t apportion to it before. 

But the more I think about it, the more important I realize this is necessary and worth the effort. It’s an investment into saving time, building trust, and fostering peace. 

This next part might sound divergent from the topic, but it’s not particularly.

Over this last summer I did something I have been meaning to do for years. I changed my political affiliation to “unaffiliated”. I came to the realization that I don’t think the left and the right are that different in thoughts. Neither want school shootings to go on, unwanted pregnancies and subsequent babies, or to be hated because of what they look like or who they love. Small snippets, barbs and banners like “baby killer” or “2nd amendment” do not do justice to the complex topics and the varying ways they can be resolved that the majority of people who don’t reside on far left/right spectrums could find a solution to. We are all so distracted by extremes and categorizing, and are so busy and sure of ourselves that we aren’t taking the time to think anything through.

Aligning and dividing is the quick solution. These divisions are based on assumptions of what you think the other party’s intention is.

What I am describing is a human and natural response. But it doesn’t make it morally right. And it certainly doesn’t foster peace. 

Not many people are listening with the intent to hear. We were not really taught anywhere how to listen. 

It is mental work to consider the ways in which your words might have different meanings to someone listening. 

It’s even more difficult to consider a point of view you don’t like. Or be open to changing your mind. Or to stay put and engaged when a topic makes you uneasy. 

But I will argue that it’s wrong to run away, ignore, retort back without thinking through how your words could be interpreted and it’s certainly not helpful to not consider the filters and paradigms you operate in.

How could you not want to do this work and then wonder why we don’t have world peace? 

This short story about the teacher goes deeper for me, in that we frequently get so caught up in what we think are other’s intentions and agendas, we often miss the opportunity to have a rich discussion about the topic at hand.  

What was not discussed in my group or even here in the blog was the whole intention of this poor fictional teacher’s message about how emotions come and go like weather. What an awesome and very true analogy! And the irony of how the very message about emotions was neglected because of you guessed it- emotions…. 

I could go on… I could always go on, but I will stop and end with one more note to possibly consider.

It’s a new year. I gave up on New Year’s Resolutions a while ago. But I will never give up on wanting to be a better human and leaving the space I took up in the world better than I found it. If you don’t want to make New Year’s Resolutions but want to consider something to work on, perhaps contemplate how you might remove yourself from the stories you find yourself in and imagine being the reader of that story who is able to see and reflect on the full picture. And perhaps think about that monk’s message too, the one that got lost in all this the next time you sense a storm…

Happy New Year

Sufi Breathing Techniques

Posted on by Esterina Anderson

Sufi Breathing

Relaxation Technique

The following series of Elemental Purification Breaths come to us through one of the lineages of Sufi teachings. This is a perfect focusing and centering practice to begin your day, and takes only the time of 25 breaths. It can be used as a short and simple meditation practice in itself, or as a warm-up breathing relaxation technique to focus the mind for another meditation practice you may choose to do.

  1. (Bhu Mudra) Begin by breathing naturally in and out through your nostrils for five full breath cycles. This first series of five breaths is focused on purifying your¬self with the element of earth. As you inhale, imagine that you draw the energy and magnetism of the earth up into you. It circulates through your subtle energy systems and replenishes and renews the vitality and strength of Your body.

As you exhale, imagine that the magnetic field of the earth draws all the heavy, gross elements or energies within you down into the ground to be purified and released. With each breath, you feel revitalized, lighter, less dense, and clearer to the free flow of breath, life, energy.

  • (Jala Mudra) Then with a second series of five breaths, imagine purifying yourself with the energy of water. Inhaling through your nose and exhaling through your mouth, envision a waterfall of pure, clear energy pouring down into you from the heavens above, flowing through you, and dissolving, purifyinganything within you that might block the flow of life-energy moving through you. With each breath, you are washed clean and clear, as this stream of energy and light flows through you.
  • (Surya Mudra) With the next series of five breaths, purify yourself with the element of fire.Inhaling through your mouth and exhaling through your nostrils, let the breath flow focus at your solar plexus as you inhale, and then rise up and radiate as light from your heart-center, shining out between your shoulder blades, and like a fountain of light up through the crown of your head. Inhaling fire, exhaling light, envision and affirm that this circulation of energy is a purifying fgire gathering any remaining impurities or congestion and burning them into radiance and light in the fires of your heart.
  • (Vayu mudra) With the next cycle of breaths, imagine purifying yourself with the air element. Inhaling and exhaling through your mouth, imagine the air element sweeping through you like the wind blowing through the spaces of your whole body, purifying any sense of density or obstruction that may remain.
  • (Akasha Mudra) Finally, breathing very gently through your nostrils, envision yourself being purified by the most subtle element – the “ether” element of the ancients, or the most subtle energies that infuse space, or the quantum field of infinite potentials. Let this most subtle breath dissolve any remaining sense of solidity or density and let your heart and mind open to be clear and vast like the infinite sky.

On Coming Full Circle

Posted on by Esterina Anderson

If you haven’t read The Alchemist (spoiler alert: skip to the next paragraph if you ever plan to and don’t want to know how it ends) and grasped the true meaning, it speaks to how you can travel the world, be rich, be poor, and experience everything life can possibly offer, but you will not find what you are looking for until you look right where you are. In essence the treasure we seek is within.

Last night I came back from a 28-hour marathon trip from Westhampton Beach, NY, across the Long Island sound via Port Jefferson to Connecticut, to Branford/Rhode Island/Branford/Rhode Island and back across the sound on the east end of LI via Orient Point to drive back to where I started from. I went in a large circle.

While having a quick take-out dinner I grabbed earlier in the day on the Cross Sound Ferry yesterday evening, I suddenly felt the urge to MOVE. I had been in the car or in a tight crammed space for more than a day and felt like I HAD to break free.

But there was almost nowhere to go…

So I walked. And walked. And walked.

I walked  around and around in circles on the ferry. The wind was warm. Breezier in some parts than others. I breathed it all in deeply. The sun was setting.  

I passed the same people many times. People mostly doing the same things, on their phones with a handful engaged with another. I walked past them over and over in my own reverie as the ship moved forward from one destination to the next.

Something about this felt symbolic. Many remain in one spot, or like I was doing, going around and around in circles as we are carted ahead by life via a man-made creation known as time.

Once the ferry arrived and I began the drive from the east end, it all felt so very familiar. The dark. The long winding roads. Infrequently passing other cars as I skirted my eyes toward the right to where the white line meets the end of the road – as I was taught in Defensive Driving when I was 16.

I felt like I was that age again. Driving familiar roads. Some of the same roads I had driven then. The landscape of the road, the lining of the trees against the night sky, the warm summer air, the cicadas, and the crickets. All my senses were highly engaged. I was so present and aware of the present and the connection to the past.

The radio was on and connected to my iPhone. I was listening to Angels and Airwaves. I looked at the name of the album’s words that lit up on my car’s navigation display.

Stomping the Phantom Brake Pedal

I only just noticed what those words mean.

Has my life just gone on until now while I went in circles?

I spent my entire adulthood on a path away from where I grew up.

The first 16 years or so were quite lovely. I put trauma behind and made a life for myself. One that I was proud of. But a divorce and what should have been a happier ending threw me into a tailspin. I was suddenly looking for something. And to make what could be a very long story short, I unearthed trauma that was still lingering and the last 13 years have been about discovery and healing.

But I stayed away from home.

My current husband grew up a mere 7 miles as the crow flies from the place I attempted to escape and was driving toward last night. I’ve visited his hometown for years while skirting around my own. I never really went back mentally or physically.

Then a few weeks ago on a whim I decided to stop in my own hometown on the way past it. I was alone. I had time. I suddenly wanted to see it.

To my wonder I felt nostalgia. Something I never imagined I would feel. The feeling came on quickly, without warning. It hurt because it felt unfamiliar. Yet it was very happy, and at the same time very sad. A mix of emotion that only nostalgia unearth.

A few days later I realized I could love and dislike the past equally. It’s not all or nothing.

The feeling of suddenly being open to seeing the good of the past felt so free.  It was a band aid that had been on for so long that when it came off, that part of me felt exposed and unfamiliar – yet amazing. In the same way skin under tape would feel when exposed once again to the sun. Cautious, but so warm and dare I say inviting?

I let that all marinate for a few weeks and carried on with this temporarily homeless existence my husband and I have been living in since our home has been under construction in June.

And here I was last night coming back to where I started the prior day and literally close to  where my adulthood journey began.

The song Reel 1 (Diary) was playing. A song that starts out so quietly you need to strain to hear it. It ramps slowly over the next 5 minutes up to a beautiful crescendo so intense that the moment the lyrics break the invisible audible barrier, you can almost feel your body release with the musical vibration –    

Reel 1 (Diary) Lyrics

Breathe

Open up the air flow

Taking in a ray of light

Stretch across the long coast

Falling back on past time

Sleeping in the wallow

Crying and shivering

Hunting for your sorrow

Bending down to hold it

Shiver like a young child

Scatters like a serpent

Killing off your habit

Take me as your servant

Take me as your weapon

Take me as your courage

Take me as your servant

Take me as your servant

Take me as your servant

I suddenly want to break out. Not so dissimilar to the feeling I had on the ferry earlier.

What I am looking for has always been with me like in The Alchemist. I know this intellectually. However, it seems difficult to access most of the time.

Last night that portal was wide open.

I wanted to be where I was. In the flow. In the perfect moment always, like the spiritual teachings of all shapes, sizes and religions teach us. We are always where we are supposed to be.

If we let go of our imaginary steering wheel and embrace what God/Brahma/The Universe has in store for us, we will truly be able to enjoy the ride.

Maybe my purpose this morning is to write about this. To scream from the rooftops (in the modern world from behind a computer) that you can Stomp on the Phantom Brake Pedal, out of stand stills or ruts you find yourself, and exterminate habits that stop you from being the fullest expression of yourself.

I feel it now at this very moment. I know I will forget it quite soon and carry on with my day and my life very much as I always have, but perhaps a smidgen more enlightened.

It’s all these little “smidges” of becoming more aware that lead to peace and flow. That is the only path “forward”.

Perhaps forward is really upward?

Perhaps we can stay where we are in that same physical place, the same rut, but use the brake to find true freedom in knowing that there is always a very special treasure within.

That treasure is inner freedom and peace.  

On Your Hometown

Posted on by Esterina Anderson

I read a lot. When I veg out alone with the TV, I often watch documentaries. I don’t really know how I find these things (Amazon, Netflix, Kindle, etc have me pegged as a certain type I guess); but what I do know is that there are common themes. Mostly ones that would apply to a middle-aged woman.

One of the common themes is a main character who left their hometown after high school graduation and never looked back. In my books/shows that person is usually drawn back for some innocuous reason like a wedding or funeral, and  then find themselves entangled in stories, immersed in the past, and unraveling a mystery in which they are the hero or heroine of the story.

In the end they come back to their town.

I watch with intrigue but never imagined ever wanting to go back to my hometown. For the record I still don’t, but for the first time in my life this last weekend – I was intrigued by visiting and putting my toe in what always seemed like a waste of time to dabble in.

Like the characters in my stories there is an element of a painful past I’d rather escape. But in the mix are really, amazing happy memories too.

I’ve struggled with that.

It’s only in the past few years as I’m inching up to the age of 50 that I can see the value in looking upon the past as just what it was. It doesn’t have to be all bad in my mind as my brain probably made it out to be in order to cope and not get sucked back it. It’s a healthy reaction to trauma.

But truth be told, I had far more good times than bad. And it’s only now that I feel healthy enough to look at it all without negative emotion clouding all the good memories.

I lived in Brooklyn until I was 12, but those 6 real formulative years where you transition from child to adult I spent in Long Island in a small town often nicknamed “Mistake Beach”.

For good or bad, it is a large part of what made me who I am. There is nothing wrong with embracing what is and loving it all as part of life.

I have  been thinking about my hometown all week and today put together a little video.

I truly feel like I am in a place that I love every good and bad place I’ve ever been, any good or bad thing that ever happened to me or that I did. Because it all brought me to here where self-inquiry and self-reflection have a meaningful place with 47 years of experience to draw upon to be a better and healthier person for the second half of my life.

I’m grateful for all of it. Today in particular I’m grateful for Mastic Beach – my Hometown. No more hiding from the past.

On Making your Bed

Posted on by Esterina Anderson

I am told a good life starts in the morning with making your bed. 

Do you make your bed? 

I’ve heard all reasons of why folks do or don’t make their bed. It is a personal decision. But research shows that people who make their bed are more successful, productive and happier. 

I make my bed. I feel energetically better when I do. The room appears neater and I don’t feel schlepy when I crawl back in it at night. 

I have also heard people say “why bother?”, it’s only going to get messy again. 

There is truth to that. But your body will also get dirty after you shower. Most of us don’t skip showers for that reason. 

A lot of people tell me they don’t do yoga or meditate because they aren’t flexible or their minds don’t work that way or they aren’t flexible enough. A funny line in the yoga world is: 

“Saying you don’t do yoga because you aren’t flexible is like saying you are too dirty to take a shower”.

Taking it a step closer would be to say that you are too out of shape to exercise.

I hate to break it to you – we are all the same. Our bodies and minds need maintenance and when we don’t maintain them we have a monkey mind and we get out of shape. It’s really that simple. Yes there are exceptions but almost all of them can be overcome. 

We can skip cleaning our spaces and making our beds (or weeding our gardens- literally and metaphorically)- but while we are at it, why not skip that shower too? And why bother to exercise? Won’t we become atrophic again when we stop?

To live is to maintain. To live well is to maintain everything about our lives. Our health, our habits, our homes, our finances, our pets… and even our minds. They can all go to pot if we skip the maintenance and loose sight of their health. 

Yes- this takes up a lot of the day, but it’s worth the clean and cleared space because what you see around you directly affects what you feel inside you. You can feel it in your energy if you quiet your mind and get in touch with it. 

So make your bed and see if anything changes around you. 

Namaste 

“If you want to change the world, start off by making your bed. This is perhaps the most famous line from Making your bed to perfection each morning is a reminder that if you do the little things right, it makes the big things possible.”

Admiral McRaven

https://www.sec.gov/news/speech/miller-translate-military-lessons-entrepreneurship#:~:text=If%20you%20want%20to%20change,makes%20the%20big%20things%20possible.

On the Perfectly Curated Scene

Posted on by Esterina Anderson

This morning I sit in a beam on sun with a light breeze and the sound of water lazily lapping against the boat. Blue water and gentle waves surround me everywhere rocking the boat to & fro. The slightest poofs of wind pop against the dark navy blue Bimini every so often, adding a different sound to the nautical melody that plays upon my ears.

Finally, I am relaxed for a few minutes and enjoying a cup of freshly pressed coffee while it’s still warm enough to enjoy. But also not so warm that it is creating more heat than I want so early in the morning.

It’s not too cold or too hot today, but the constant rocking in Vineyard Haven harbor woke me up at 6am. It is actually dry this morning so I didn’t mind coming up top into the cockpit with some blankets to temper my body just right. It’s already 7am which means I have an hour before we dash off to the next place in which I will sleep about 90% of the trip- and my life away. 

It’s already 7am which means I should start to hurry. Start putting away things that will move during the passage, and take a truly nasty, rocking and slamming dinghy ride to the some of the sketchiest streets Martha’s Vineyard has to offer -just to walk the dog. What at home takes less than a minute to get the dog outside for a walk or even faster when we open the back door, turns into a 3x a day at least 10 minutes each way (60 min in total) event involving a dinghy that I still can’t figure out how to use and walking past dozens of warning signs about not allowing a dog to go in the made up looking “pristine” spots amongst ship garages, the smell of diesel on a hot summer day and tools strewn about. Dog pee on that small grass bed would of course ruin the whole made up scene. So it is at least another 10 minutes per trip- or longer since I actually like moving my body more than a few steps at a time. This makes walking the dog eat at the bare minimum 2 hours a day.

When I crash (and I mean crash) into bed every night I wonder what the heck I did all day. I brought pastels to do art with. Yarn to knit with, a yoga mat, and books to read. But somehow day after day passes and I wonder ever so briefly after I read just a few pages before being taken into a deep coma of sleep how it is that another day passed and I’m happy if I just walked on land for more than a few minutes.

Yes I am happy. It really is nice to appreciate small things like stretching your limbs by taking full steps on solid land. Or the feeling of a cool breeze (or any breeze really) when you are hot.

Or the art of doing nothing.

No- I lied there.

There is no doing nothing. Just living is all we do. Preparing something to eat, washing the dishes from it, cleaning up, changing my clothes. Even washing my face and brushing my teeth seems like a lot of work. And a lot of time. So much time that these things kind of take the whole day.

Some people refuse to boat with dogs- too much hair, too much pressure to get them on a walk. And they are absolutely right that it’s does consume your time. But l love my dog that much. His excitement makes bringing him so much more worth it. But he is a time suck.

Yesterday is what Daren called maintenance day. We got fuel and water. We did laundry and grocery shopped. It was Saturday. Seems like a good day to do those things. But other than sailing from Cuttyhunk to Martha’s Vineyard (which for someone who doesn’t know how or like to sail is sort of like throwing hours of your life into the sea) and having dinner with our friends [and dog walking which I slept thru the 1st iteration of], we did nothing else. What would take maybe an hour or two for chores at home consisted of at least 6 or so hours of what shouldn’t be (especially on a “vacation”) labor intensive work. The level of exertion in doing the smallest of things combined with the lack of exercise leaves my body feeling like a total pile of complete mush. 

No lounging, no reading, no art, no exercise, no catching up on shows, no knitting- just keeping ourselves and the dog alive and fed.

We have and will see some absolutely stunning places. I’ve been vlogging the trip. These do not take a lot of work. I take short clips all day and in my years of work experience with technology and multi tasking I can whip these together throughout the day rather efficiently.

Look at this perfect photo! These are not hard to capture- they are everywhere. I picked those flowers from wild areas by the fire tower while on a run in Cuttyhunk. Cool huh?

But the vlogs and photos only show the beautiful stuff. I crop or if I can, never capture the many unsightly things right out of crafted, curated scene. You don’t see the dumpsters everywhere. Us taking out our stinky trash or figuring how to get pumped out. Recycling is an issue that we are temporarily choosing to ignore. The surroundings of boating areas are often filled with broken lines and lobster traps, utterly despicable bathrooms, sparse maritime stores that look like a sad mini version of Home Depot and slimy barnacles growing on everything you might need to touch during the day.

I like this, but I also dislike it. I miss being able to freely use water or taking a real shower. I miss not worrying about how and when to charge my devices. This is all very nice, even without modern conveniences, but not for a “vacation”. I don’t want to work so hard during my time off.

If we were retired and this was our life I would be all in for a month or two a year.

Being on a slip vs a mooring or anchor is better in that at the very least I could go for a run without being charioted to land on a dinghy. I ran a total of one time. I had 45 min before I had to meet Daren and ran with the flowers that are in that great picture most of the way. At a slip on the dock we can use water and electricity without conservation. But it’s still cramped and hard to cook and shower, it’s still a hike to pass the “no dogs” signs, the marinas and boat yards are often still very sparse, smelly and ugly places. Not to mention the heart stopping average rate of $8-10/ft per night during the summer.

I do love seeing places by boat. I truly do. I love Koji’s excitement when we get in the dinghy and he has no idea where we are going but he is excitedly up for anything because he is with his owners. I love being with my dog and husband and when we get to – friends, doing a little of nothing but existing. 

However, it’s not just the curated shots and video clips it looks to be.

I have worries too aside from this pretty great trip. I feel guilt sharing them because my problems seem small in a world where stable food/shelter/clothing is not a given. But I refuse to be another number out there using social media to only highlight the good stuff in my life too, adding to the fluff of it all.

I don’t want to feel guilty for telling the world it’s not all perfect here either. I am real and I do not have a great day everyday. More than that, I don’t want to be a part of the social media problem. I don’t mind sharing the not so great parts of my life because I’m a real person with real feelings and most of my life is not the perfect pictures posted.

This is the first time in 9 days I’ve had 45 min to just sit and think and write. It was quite lovely. The scene was perfect. But my coffee is now cold and it’s time to get up and do all those ugly things. Time to charge my phone again which mysteriously uses battery power 4x faster about 10 feet from the shore.

Maybe I’ll have time like this again before I go back to work in 8 days. Or maybe I won’t. What I do know is that while I do enjoy this and I am having a lot of fun- this really is truly for me personally a far cry for a vacation.

It’s a beautiful perfectly curated scene in which you can choose to ignore the ugly, focus only on the ugly, or find a medium in between. I’m toeing the in between line, but I haven’t been swayed to ignore it.

On Taking the Crutch

Posted on by Esterina Anderson

My father is 72 years old and his health is drastically failing. He was released from a two month stint of back-to-back hospital and nursing home stays just last weekend. He is now staying with one of my brothers because he cannot be on his own. While he is home alone most of the day he refuses any licensed home care. Why?

Most of us grew up with the important message that it is vital to be independent and to do as much as you can on your own. It’s a great message. We should learn as early in life as possible to care for ourselves. Do our own laundry, prepare meals, provide for our own food/shelter/clothing. Relying solely on anyone else for the long term is risky. 

What we have interpreted is to not take the crutch if we don’t need it. Walk on your own two feet.

But when is the message taken too far? When should we take the crutch and lean on others?

Example-

Back in 2014 when we first got our dog Koji, he was an exuberant, wild little 28 lb plaything fresh off the trucks from the south. I hadn’t had a dog in over 25 years and I could count on my hands the number of time I ever leash walked a dog. My husband and our children never had a dog. We put a leash on him and I instantly realized I couldn’t control him. So I purchased a harness. 

Before that harness arrived we had an electric fence put in and the installer/fence trainer told us we would have to take control or the dog would control us. This applied to walking, eating, crating, drives in the car- basically everything. When that harness arrived I was embarrassed to have ordered it and put it was in the back of the new space I cleared out in what was now the dog’s cabinet.

Fast forward a year I was walking Koji one morning before work and as usual having trouble controlling his pulling with his now 70 lb body. A squirrel ran by and he pulled me down front forward while the leash came out of my hand and he ran off into the woods. 

This became a regular occurrence. I stopped wearing flip flops to walk him, I had my cell phone close by in case I needed to call for help, I often had a pain in my arm from being yanked, and my right hand and lower arm were perpetually red from wrapping the leash around so many times. Being pulled down and sliding on my belly a few feet was a regular occurrence that I lived with. 

It took another TWO years when one hot summer morning Koji saw a squirrel and I was pulled down again that I saw the area was safe from cars and I just let go of the leash. 

At this point in my life I was in a 30 day mental health out treatment program and going to be late if he didn’t come back soon. I didn’t want to walk in with my legs and tummy scraped up. I only imagined what they might think. And that is when I realized that they would think I needed to walk that dog with a harness. 

It was like the clouds parted as I laid on the ground watching Koji happily bouncing back from across the street that I remembered I still had that harness somewhere and that there was no shame in using it. I saw plenty of people with large and small dogs alike using harnesses. I didn’t think any less of them and even if I had- who cares? They are using what they feel comfortable with to live alongside their furry companions.

Later that morning while I shared my morning dog walk story with my group during check in, I tied it to a tool we had learned just the previous afternoon. It was about adjusting our expectations to be able to live alongside others by accepting reasonableness versus reality. 

I don’t want to digress too far down the rabbit hole, but this does tie in.

The previous afternoon our group lesson therapist made the connection to the reasonable/reality tool while one of the younger male participants was complaining about what a poor role model his father was. Our therapist asked him if it was reasonable for him to want a father he could look up to- and the young man said yes. He was then asked -knowing the reality of how his father behaves if it’s a realistic expectation to have of his father… the answer was no. 

I didn’t like that answer. I was sort of struggling with it the previous 24 hours up until I was describing my morning walk with Koji. Was it reasonable for me to want to walk a dog with just a leash and a collar around his neck? Yes it was. Given my dog’s size and lack of professional training, was it realistic for me to do so? OH HECK NO.

I went home and took out that harness and never fell down since.

This is now a famous story I tell when teaching yoga and my students are in the pigeon pose. As I lead the student to the pose I encourage them to grab some props around them- a blanket, bolster or block. As I walk them through the pose I demonstrate where to use the props should they need them. Most do not touch the props. As we lower our foreheads down I often see students struggling as they attempt to take their bodies to places their body is resisting. 

Pigeon is a pose that is held for a while. As your body adjusts to the new position, the worried clenching muscles loosen and the body is able to go deeper into the stretch. I tell the proverbial crutch/dog walking harness story and how there is no shame in just accepting what is reasonable to want and realistic to accept. More often than not a few students will reach their arms around and find a prop to help support the pose.

There are many tools I have forgotten until I heard them enough and ones I scarce use from that outpatient mental health treatment and other forms of therapy I’ve participated in before and after that. But the reasonable vs realistic one has stuck to me like a welcome new invisible and incredibly helpful limb. It has allowed me to take the proverbial crutch and adjust my expectations in the healthiest of ways. 

There is a part of that initial ingrained message about doing it without help that is important and shouldn’t be forgotten either.

Example

I had toe surgery in January and knew I would be non weight bearing for at least 6 weeks. I knew I would get crutches, but I know how much I dislike crutches. I knew I would have to depend on help with driving the entire time, and doing almost everything particularly that first week when my foot had to stay elevated all day. 

I took the crutch. I accepted my husbands help. 

But I took it further in both directions. 

I purchased a knee scooter and one legged half crutch so I could be arms free exercise.

I got up off the couch and crawled to the floor to stretch when I could.

I took my 3rd shower alone when while my husband was working I tried out the half crutch and performed every movement slowly and mindfully. I knew he was close by if I needed help- but I attempted to do it alone.

Taking the crutch doesn’t mean taking advantage or giving it. It means using what is available when it’s needed, but not using it if it’s possible to do without it. 

It’s about taking only what is needed.

It means accepting what is reasonable vs what is realistic.

It means using props in yoga until you no longer need them. Should it be 1 minute later when your muscles relax or 2 years down the line- or never… it’s all ok and the way it is. 

I often tell students in pigeon that my left hip is inflamed (which it is) and demo using the blanket to cushion that side. 

I will often see a smile break out as I then tell the dog harness story. I see their bodies soften, visually communicating the acceptance they feel toward their body and personal abilities. I tell the story often and premise it with “if you’ve done pigeon with me before, please bare with my story as I tell it to the ones who hadn’t heard it”. 

I hope like me that hearing the same message several times helps it to stick. I hope they take the message off the mat like I took a lesson hot off a therapy session and can apply it to other areas in life. I hope they create their own stories of taking the crutch and sharing it with others who struggle. 

We all struggle. We all remember a lesson or two that has stuck. I’d love to hear what has stuck with you- as it might help me too!

Love to all. Namaste

On Wiggle Room

Posted on by Esterina Anderson

This week I attended a work conference on business fundamentals in healthcare. This slide came up and I thought to myself- “What the Devil?”

The speaker explained how when our cup is 75% full, it looks and feels pretty full. We can take that cup and walk around fairly comfortably. The water can slosh a bit without spilling over.

A totally full glass on the other hand not only feels full, but requires us to walk around on high alert with caution. The odds for even the most deft among us is to have a spill or two on the way from one destination to another.  

The water glass slides it turns out is about how full a Primary Care Provider’s panel should be. My mind instantly drew the relation to life. 

A few slides later is this one… 

Why do we need an upper limit if we aren’t going to make that the gold standard? 

It is for the same reason we don’t keep our heart at max capacity. The limit is there emergencies to keep us alive and afloat. It’s not an aim, it’s a safety measure. 

So why do we routinely schedule the last possible flight home? Fill our week with an event every night? Or permeate our kid’s schedules with enriching activities every free possible minute? 

At what point in history did we lose the knowledge that full to the brim is better than wiggle room or you are a slacker?

Another analogy I love is what we called the “Jiggle Jar”.

The first time I saw this jar demonstration was is when I began yoga teacher training. I’m sure I rolled my eyes with these fru fru yogis demonstrating visuals like business people do. The jar is filled with water and mud. The premise is that when you are still your mind is clear and we are able to see well. When you are running around or getting bumped from the outside it stirs up the muck and clarity cannot exist.

Of course it makes sense. But it wasn’t until a few weeks into teacher training when I felt a relaxed sense of mind on a regular basis that I was unable to tolerate being riled up any longer. 

I had been the frog that was initially put in tepid water and the temp turned up so slowly that I didn’t realize that it was nearly boiling. Vacillating my mind between tepid and boiling made the anxiety disorder I didn’t know I already had unleash to where I was non-functional. 

Just like the frog if you moved it from a near boiling state back to tepid water. That frog may have been quiet and happy while nearly boiling to death, but it would scream and fight once it was tossed back to immense heat from something comfortably warm.

While it was my home life that was out of control, without leaving my husband and kids in a lurch; the only control I had over my life at that time was leaving my job as a Strategic Planner and taking a part time lower GS pay level job. 

It was the best decision I ever made. 

It’s the wiggle room that makes the difference between life and death, tolerable and intolerable, sanity and insanity, and even a safe panel size for a patient and provider vs one that is at maximum capacity and bound to have accidents like water sloshing out of a cup. We don’t want those water droplets to be any patients or pieces of our provider’s state of mind. 

In the jiggle jar analogy we need to see that it’s not possible to bump into anything or anyone when we create space in our schedule- and totally related- our mind. 

Wiggle room is what saves us. It should be as important or dare I say even more important as our most important regularly scheduled appointment. 

Like the temperature gauge only someone on the outside can read as the frog’s heat is being turned up, our schedule may be the only gauge we have. We can’t walk around forever with a full cup. One false move or someone else with no wiggle room or a full cup will bump into us and inevitably create undesirable results. 

If you are feeling the heat, turn it down and create space. No matter how important everything else seems, it will all be figuratively dead in the water when you are no longer around to keep it all going.

Choose wisely! Namaste

On Minors and Gender Issues

Posted on by Esterina Anderson

I’m not a bigot in any way. I feel alive and love when people are who they are inherently. I can tell when they are being something other than themselves and it bothers me because it feels inauthentic.

I am ecstatic to live in a period of time where you can love anyone who you connect with openly and free. Maybe we aren’t completely there yet, but we are way closer than we have ever been in history. And we continue to progress everyday.

In this time period there is also a controversy over medical care and human rights. Particularly gender dysphoria. This part I don’t understand. 

Regardless of any health issue that arises, we should always try the least invasive solutions before diving into something unknown or irreversible. It’s not only the right thing for our bodies, it’s socially responsible for the cost of healthcare. 

To be clear I am not opposed to any kind of lifestyle and/or partner of any possible combination. 

And if there is no other solution one tries for being comfortable in your skin other than modifying your body with surgery or medicine, then I support whatever it takes to ensure that we are comfortable expressing ourselves as who we are.

To be clear however, I am opposed to this as a first solution or any solution for minors. Particularly for minors. 



I just don’t get what the controversy is about on gender altering for minors. 

Why can’t we buy cigarettes until the age of 21? 

We’ve made this restriction because we believe says we aren’t wise enough to make the decision to do something potentially harmful to our bodies. We KNOW it’s harmful and a risk. My mom died of lung cancer at the age of 49 from smoking. It’s bad for us. But there are people who live well into their 90s smoking everyday and don’t pass from smoking issues. It’s a risk. 

Same with 21 as the age limit for alcohol and in states where it’s legal – Marijuana. Risks.  Being old enough to decide to take the risk. Alcoholism runs in my family. I myself need to stay dry because it affects me in very negative ways. 

What about car and vacation home rentals? Many have age limits of 25. No one is arguing with these. Young people in general are a risk for so many reasons. Too many to list. Most of the time it has to do with making decisions that as you get older you wouldn’t otherwise take.

Why can’t we vote until the age of 18? Or even get a tattoo? Or enlist in the military? Because our brains are not yet developed and we aren’t yet wise or experienced enough to think things through or make major decisions.

These age limits are universal. As you get older you can rationalize more clearly, understand your emotions and make better decisions than a 16 year old may.

We have a legal obligation to our children until the age of 18. An obligation to protect them, not just cater to their wishes. We don’t cater to them because they are not old enough to know their own minds yet. We should absolutely support and let them try out things they would like to explore. But I would draw the line at permanent body changes. Using the line “but I know my child” is not possible because if the child isn’t old enough by every law to even vote, they can’t know their own mind- so how could a parent?  

Related, but unrelated…. Weight loss surgery. Pediatric weight loss surgery is not common. It happens but it is uncommon. There are strict prerequisites for it. Those prerequisites are family support/community in place, the requirement that all other medically supervised diets and exercises have failed over the course of 6 months to a year, and mental health pre-op. Plus – the adolescent has to have a BMI of 40 or more. 

Even grown adults have these guidelines. 

So I have to ask why is it controversial to put an age limit on gender altering drugs and surgeries? 

These children cannot even vote, let alone buy a cigarette. We all agree they are not old enough to make decisions good for them or society, so why is it so controversial that they wait until at least the age of 18?

Why are we scared that adult rights are being taken away when we put parameters in place to limit gender altering drugs/surgeries on adults too? Parameters like medically supervised alternatives first and the requirement for emotional support and counseling, before and after? How different is it from bariatric surgery? 

I think these are important considerations and that law makers are being responsible with our healthcare dollars by putting these laws in place. Children are not able to vote or buy mind altering substances for a reason. So why are we even having the discussion about body altering? 

I’m not a bigot. I am just asking. We need to be able to ask questions without being seen as a bigot. 

Enlighten me so I can help support positive societal change too.