Life on Life’s Terms. 3 Years of Recovery

Posted on by Esterina Anderson

Today. Friday. A day off for me. New moon. 3 years to the date marking my sobriety anniversary.

I sit in the flexible office/yoga/art room. It’s the space within our home that is mine alone.

I sit in butterfly pose on my meditation cushion. I play a yogic playlist that I used to teach with and hadn’t heard in at least 4 years. It is familiar yet new at the same time.

The lovely backdrop of construction noise and banging takes place outside my door and below me on the floor.

In front of me is a pile of stuff that will be used “sometime soon.” Sometime soon started last June when our construction project began.

My husband pops by on a quick work break to say hello on the way to the bathroom. He looks in my office/yoga/art room and tells me the scene is “so you.”

Yes. This is me. Right now in this moment in time. Living life on life’s terms. Construction, piles of things, and me trying in the midst of it all to stay centered and be me.

3 years ago was a different story. I went to bed at 4 a.m. after being in the emergency room for not being able to come off a panic attack. I hyperventilated for hours. I had to appear in court in the morning for an arrest, so I must have slept 2 hours at most. As I lay in the ER hallway (because naturally there is no space on a random February Monday evening), I couldn’t believe the low I had gotten myself into.

I didn’t know where to go, who to reach out to, or what the next step was.

It was then I surrendered. In the hall of Yale New Haven’s Emergency Department. I took the first step that AA’s 12 Steps teaches and surrendered. I lost control. I had no control to start with. Alcohol had control over me. I accepted that.

Every day when I sat down to drink the first perfectly chilled glass of chardonnay, I would turn on my soap opera. Commercials were still part of the app I watched it on at the time, and there was a recurring ad for a program called Aware Recovery. Every day I would think that I should probably call them. There was no time better than the moment to look into this. I put in a request for information on my smartphone right there in the hall in the middle of the night.

Aware Recovery called me back the next morning while I was in court waiting to be seen. I remember telling the person on the phone where I was. I was expecting shock and disgust, but what the person told me is that they’d been in my exact position and they could help. I cried with relief when hearing that. Relief for not being judged. Relief for knowing there is help and knowing that someone in my position was able to come back from something like this.

The next few days and weeks were a blur. Aware Recovery stepped up. At the time, I didn’t know I would need to rely on a community to help me get through recovery or who, if anyone I had already known, would be a part of what I didn’t even know I needed—but it works out if you surrender. It is done one step at a time. Metaphorically. Literally. Step one was to surrender. The moment I did that for real, really real—the rest started to fall into place. You have to want it and to surrender. It’s the easiest/hardest part.

One still needs to work. The community can’t do it for you.

I can write and list all the lessons I learned, thank all the people who played a part—either willingly or unknowingly—to help, talk about the metaphors, the work, the yoga, my own journey—but I’ve done that many times.

Today I’m just thankful for where I am and can attest to anyone who isn’t sure they should, can, or want to quit drinking—that they can really do it. Life is better without it. If you think you need it, it helps you, or it tastes good—some might be true, but there are healthier ways, without the risk of becoming addicted, to get the benefits you seek.

I’m still me, only better.

This was me before—this is me now. I’m just not inebriated, angry, silly, prone to being triggered, or prone to risky behavior—drunk texting, flirting, driving…. It’s just me without the risks, calories, costs, and cravings.

I love to knit. Particularly to knit big, chunky, cozy blankets.

I love plants and gardening.

I love yoga and meditation.

I love reading, particularly spiritual books.

I love living by the water and all things nautical.

I love painting, drawing, and creating art.

Life on life’s terms. It’s an AA term I love. It’s not just people in recovery this applies to. It’s an awesome way to accept life.

I’ve been living through a construction project. My house has been noisy and dusty, and at times I felt like I have been losing my mind. The past 3 years taught me many lessons like this in different ways.

This is life. We can either accept it and feel free or fight it and feel like a prisoner on someone else’s terms. Life isn’t going to stop being hard because you stop drinking. But you will be able to accept life as it shows up without pain.

This is my life and I accept it.

Everyone’s life is different, full of what they love and cherish, and contains stuff, people, and circumstances that they really wish weren’t there.

Who ever said life would be anything other than good, bad, and everything in between?

This is my life. You have yours, and maybe your story—or someone you love’s story—involves addictive substances too. There is a community of us who have recovered from addiction and want to help anyone who wants help in the ways they know how to.

This is one way I know how—reaching out, sharing, sending love, and being available.

Namaste.

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

Please feel free to leave a comment or subscribe for future updates.

Chinese New Year and the Magic of Your Thoughts

Posted on by Esterina Anderson

Last year, right around this time, a trip to the post office may have changed my life.

I was online and noticed a sign for stamps celebrating Chinese New Year. I picked up my phone to look up the date—Friday, February 12, 2021. I wondered why Chinese New Year wasn’t based on the calendar. Later, at home, I popped that very question into Google. I learned Chinese New Year was based on the new moon, and I read quite a bit about the traditions and celebration. Still, I wondered—why this time of year?

A few days later, during my morning meditation routine, I had some interesting thoughts. This time last year, I set an intention during my morning meditation to quit drinking. I would do some EFT (tapping) and imagine burning up the energies getting in the way of doing so.

For the New Year of 2021, I placed a Shiva statue on my meditation table and switched my daily mala mantra to “Om Namah Shivaya.” I also placed a wooden sign I painted above the door frame of my meditation space with this same mantra. Each morning felt fresh and new. I optimistically thought, “Today is the day I don’t drink.” By mid-day, I’d decide to drink, but that would be the last day. It was a futile merry-go-round, and I couldn’t seem to make it stop or find the exit back into the amusement park.

I needed a push. I chose Shiva for that push. Stick with me about why…

In yoga teacher training, I learned a little about Hinduism and the three main deities of Brahma, Vishnu, and Shiva. They are the Creator, Sustainer, and Destroyer. In Ayurveda, they can be likened to spring, summer, and fall/winter. Shiva destroys the season of summer each year and ushers in fall, then winter. At some point, Brahma takes over and creation starts over. Spring begins. Simple enough concept.

This particular morning of 2/8, on my meditation cushion, I looked up at this piece I created in 2019. It may literally look like “Chinese” to anyone but me; however, it represents my own conglomeration of beliefs and knowledge regarding Taoism, Hinduism, Ayurveda, the seasons, the directions of the earth, time, and the color wheel. I thought about Shiva and my question of why Chinese New Year falls during this time of year.

While looking at my art, I saw how I incorporated the three primary colors with the three Ayurvedic doshas into four seasons. Was there a distinct point at which spring really begins and winter ends? A time when Shiva’s work ends and Brahma’s begins? How could it not be at this very time of year?

While the ground is frozen and the leaves are long gone, it’s only three or so weeks away from crocuses coming up. Clearly, flowers can’t pop up above ground without some underground work happening first. Buds are already on the trees at the equinox. Mother Nature silently begins her work as the days become noticeably longer, but it’s still very much winter. She must start around now, and why not with a mid-winter new moon? It seems like good timing to me. Perhaps that is when the bulk of Shiva’s work is done for the season.

Still with my conglomerate story?

Shiva is a “destroyer,” but is simultaneously known as a change agent or transformer. When Shiva is involved, it is apparent. In this famous statue, Shiva is shown dancing. He is known as the cosmic dancer, stomping and keeping the beat of the universe moving. The stomping and dancing represent moving things along, transforming life and matter, keeping it all going, and preventing it from being stuck. It’s why I was meditating and attempting to tap into this energy.

Side note: In Christianity, do you know who else is known as the Lord of the Dance?

This particular Monday morning of 2/8, I lamented how another weekend went by and I did not stop drinking. Chinese New Year was that Friday, 2/12—a new start, a new beginning. I would stop by that Friday with the Chinese New Year, no matter what.

I went through my morning routine—meditate, tap, mantra—with the strong intention of quitting the drink woven in. Be careful what you wish for, and even more importantly, how you wish for it.

That Friday did not arrive, at least not in the way I had planned. I wanted to stop by then, and by golly, some forces came in like a lion and made certain that by Friday I was not to be drinking.

I drank that Monday. Forces were with me. There were four very irritating things taking place around me—four really tough things that would irritate and worry just about anyone. Did I face them? No, I didn’t. I drank instead.

What happened next was immediate and undeniable. I had a strong and violent PTSD episode. It wasn’t the first time. I ended up in the emergency room until the early hours of the morning because I couldn’t stop hyperventilating during a panic attack. I was on a gurney, alone, in the middle of the night, in the middle of a pandemic, with a mask on and the future completely uncertain.

In that moment, I knew. What had happened would not have happened if I hadn’t been drinking. There could be no more “tomorrows” where I planned to quit. It had to be now.

I looked up a service I had seen advertised, where professionals come into your home to help with addiction. I submitted a request for information and began enrollment the next day.

The following days and weeks were incredibly difficult. I made a mess of my life. I didn’t live in my home again until April, and my husband and I didn’t live together again until June.

It was the worst of times. It was also the best of times.

I had asked for a Shiva-like intervention, and that is what I received. Not in the way I would have imagined, but in a way that forced me to stop and take a real look at my life.

I don’t know if anything else would have created the kind of pause needed to truly reflect, to understand how I got there, and to take responsibility for the mistakes I had made along the way.

At the same time, I realized that I had been preparing for this moment for years. Through therapy, spirituality, yoga, and self-reflection, I had built tools I didn’t fully realize I had. I knew how to breathe through discomfort, how to seek support, how to rest when needed, and how to process difficult emotions without avoiding them.

I had learned that life continues, that everything changes, and that acceptance is not the same as giving up. It is simply acknowledging what is.

It wasn’t easy, but it was easier than I thought it would be. I knew, deep down, that no matter what happened next, I would be okay—and eventually better.

There were also ripple effects. Others in my life began to respond differently, to reflect on their own choices, and to shift in healthier ways. The impact extended beyond just me.

Not everyone sees it that way, and that’s okay. I trust that there is something for everyone to take from these experiences, even if it’s not immediately clear.

The idea that what we are searching for may already exist within us resonates deeply with me. The universe doesn’t necessarily give us what we want in the way we expect. It responds to the intention behind it.

If the intention is grounded and sincere, the outcome reflects that. If it’s driven by fear or imbalance, that shows up too.

I’ve learned that being clear about what I want—and being honest about why I want it—matters. There’s a difference between wanting something and needing it to feel whole.

This past year has taught me how much easier life feels when my thinking is clear. Good and bad things still happen, but my response to them has changed.

I’m still learning. I still have instincts that pull me in different directions. But I’m more aware now that my experience of life is shaped by how I respond to what happens, not just what happens itself.

Namaste.

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

Please feel free to leave a comment or subscribe for future updates.

On Holidays, Divorce & Surrender

Posted on by Esterina Anderson

The holidays can be a difficult time for many people. Those who are newly divorced or navigating the aftermath of a long separation are no exception. There are many reasons people struggle this time of year—loss, uncertainty, or simply the weight of change—but for this reflection, I want to focus on divorce, something I’ve now experienced over many holiday seasons.

It took me a long time to understand that the holidays do not have to remain difficult after a separation. That shift, at least for me, began with accepting what was, including my own part in it. That acceptance didn’t happen quickly, but it changed everything over time.

The loss of shared traditions, expectations, and future plans leaves a space that isn’t easily filled. When children are involved, that space can feel even more complicated and painful. What often makes it harder is not just the loss itself, but the feelings that linger—resentment, blame, or an inability to let go of what once was.

In my yoga classes this month, the theme has been surrender. Not in a passive sense, but in the sense of releasing resistance to what is already happening. Letting go of what we think should be happening, and beginning to work with what actually is.

That sounds simple, but it can be incredibly difficult to live.

Over time, I’ve come to see that in many relationships, when things fall apart, it’s rarely as simple as one person being right and the other wrong. In my own experience, there were things I didn’t see at the time. I was focused on responsibilities—children, work, daily life—and I missed signs that my partner was struggling. When I did begin to see them, I focused on fixing what was visible, not what was underneath.

Looking back, I can see more clearly now that there were unmet needs on both sides. I didn’t understand that then. I thought there would always be time to figure things out later.

There wasn’t.

When things finally broke down, I felt hurt and betrayed. But with distance, I’ve been able to recognize that the situation was more complex than I allowed myself to see in the moment. That understanding didn’t excuse what happened, but it did allow me to move out of blame and into something more productive.

That shift matters, especially during times like the holidays.

When there is ongoing tension between former partners, it doesn’t just affect the two people involved. It impacts children, families, and everyone connected to them. When there is even a small amount of cooperation or understanding, the difference can be felt by everyone.

This doesn’t mean every relationship can or should look the same after it ends. It simply means that holding on to anger or resentment tends to keep the pain active, while working toward acceptance can gradually ease it.

I’ve also come to understand that relationships change for many reasons. Sometimes people grow together, and sometimes they don’t. Sometimes one person recognizes that something is no longer working before the other does. That doesn’t necessarily make one person wrong and the other right. It simply reflects where each person is at that point in time.

It’s easy to look back and wish things had been handled differently. It’s harder, but more useful, to look at what can be learned from the experience.

For me, that meant recognizing my own role, understanding where I had been unaware, and accepting that growth often comes through difficult transitions. Without that experience, I’m not sure I would have seen the patterns I’ve since worked to change.

The holidays can already carry a certain level of stress, even in the most stable situations. Adding unresolved tension to that mix only makes it heavier. It doesn’t have to be that way.

When we begin to let go of the need to assign blame and instead focus on acceptance, something shifts. It doesn’t erase the past, but it does change how we carry it.

Over time, that shift can make room for a lighter experience—not just during the holidays, but in life moving forward.

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

Please feel free to leave a comment or subscribe for future updates.