On Lessons from Pops

Posted on by Esterina Anderson

For those of you who don’t know, my father passed away on Wednesday. And for those who don’t know, my relationship with him was far from a beautiful “daddy’s little girl” type of scenario. I loved and hated him. I was afraid of him, yet I felt protected from the outside world by him.

My father was an alcoholic, mean, misogynistic, childish, and a bully. But he was also full of life, energy, and joy. He was strong—crazy healthy despite himself—and had the strongest work ethic of anyone I’d ever met. Just as strong was his play ethic: he worked hard and he played hard.

He lived a full life of ups and downs. He made money fast and spent it even faster. He loved drinking, gambling, and chasing women. He didn’t believe women should work or that education mattered. He believed you should take care of yourself and your family with food, shelter, and clothing in a basic sense. There was always enough, but always with the constant worry that maybe there wouldn’t be, the weight of bills looming.

From him, I learned a lot—what to do, what not to do, who I wanted to be, and how I wanted to show up in the world. This both served me and hurt me. The two main lessons I took from him were how to be productive and how to live fully at the extremes of emotion.

He hated the word “relaxing,” unless everything else that could possibly be done was already done. Before he came home, my brothers and I would scour the house for anything out of place, dirty, or unfinished. Yes, it was unhealthy—but it taught me to scan my environment, make lists, remember details, prioritize, and execute with whatever time I had.

This shaped me: I don’t know how to rest. I’m constantly doing, doing something, or several things at once. I am incredibly productive, and I think I like it that way. It’s a blessing and a burden, because I often don’t realize when I’ve pushed myself too far or taken on too much. My father, in an unhealthy way, taught me this.

Another word to describe him: loud. When the work was done, it was time to play and let loose. He had no qualms about body image, running around shirtless with his big belly. He sang at the top of his lungs, danced like a giant silly human without a care, and enjoyed food like there was no tomorrow. He loved sports—football mostly, the NY Giants in particular, but also soccer and basketball. Watching games with him was full of antics and superstition. The whole neighborhood knew if the Giants were winning or losing.

But with his intensity—whether excitement or anger—came loss of control. Things broke. People and animals got hurt, physically or emotionally.

Some of you who know me now might not realize that “loud” was once how I lived too. I still like to dance, be silly, and LAUGH—only now without the drinking and the overkill of noise.

Ultimately, I didn’t stick around to live like he lived or under his rule of thumb. I got the #$&* out of dodge and started a path of my own in the world.

I’ve learned over the course of the past 31 years that I struggle with boundaries. I was never taught them. I didn’t even know they existed. Particularly with extremes of work, play, and emotions—at first I had none. Everything was to the extreme. I’m now at a point in my life where I realize I can detach from those automatic reactions I was taught, and instead have healthier boundaries around rest, relaxation, and emotional highs and lows.

I am not perfect (who is?) and often struggle with doing too much without realizing it, or failing to recognize when I’m overwhelmed until it shows up as anxiety or panic. A lot of yogic work, mental health work, and a little medication have helped keep me balanced most of the time.

I sit here on my front porch on an August Sunday morning with my coffee and thinking about my dad.

There isn’t much rhyme or reason to this blog—just a moment to reflect on how my father shaped my life and who I am right now because of it. If I stay healthy, it’s not unreasonable to imagine living another lifetime beyond the years I’ve already lived (49). I can’t change the past, but I can absolutely change the future and how I choose to show up and react in it.

One day, those who are in my life when I pass will likely reflect on how I lived, what I taught them—whether it’s how they want to live, or how they want to avoid living. My hope is that whatever I put into the world, people experience it in a way that makes them pause—whether positively or negatively—and reflect on how their own experiences shape their behaviors and ultimately guide their decisions about who they want to be in the world.

And maybe, just maybe, that is the truest way my father continues to live on—through the ways he shaped me, both in what I carry forward and in what I’ve chosen to do differently. In that way, his life reminds me that even the hardest stories can become soil for growth, and that the future is always wide open for choosing a new way to live.

Seventh Floor, Going Down

Posted on by Esterina Anderson

I know if I don’t capture the feelings now, I still might be able to later — but they will never feel as they do now.

Today.
My last day of work.
That elevator — the sound made me want to cry.

A hot day, not too different from today.
23 years ago.

5th Floor, Building 2 — right outside my door was the elevator bank.
Mary Susie Conti — the woman I was replacing — was loading up my head with all that I needed to learn.

I was paying rapt attention, but every so often I sussed out the environment. It felt so different to be in an office in the middle of the day instead of home with my two small children, who were now 45 minutes away in a new daycare. Every time I thought of them, my heart hurt just a bit, and I had to intentionally put it out of my mind.

The feel of the air with the open window (at a time when we were allowed to open windows — now I can’t imagine), the humidity in the office, and the sound of the elevator’s electronic voice blathering all day:

“Fifth Floor Going Down… Fifth Floor Going Up.”

Over the next few days and weeks, I slightly startled the 50 or so times a day I heard that electronic voice announcing the floor it landed on and which direction it was going.

Eventually, it became background noise and I didn’t hear it at all. But when I did tune in, no matter the day or time of year, I was transported back to being 26 years old and learning my new job from Mary Susie Conti.

For the past 8+ years, I haven’t come into the office much. I was on a reasonable accommodation and working from home long before COVID. But I have to say — it always felt like home when I did go in.

I honestly believe one of the reasons I got the job is because of that “home”-like feeling.

When I interviewed for that first job, I went through a series of interviews back to back.
Martha Shea was the first person who interviewed me.

Right off the bat, she made it known that if I didn’t pass her muster, the two doctors I would soon interview with would take her consideration into account.

She also made sure to tell me she was prior military and instantly started off by asking about my own military experience.

I was slightly intimidated, but something about her already felt familiar. She was my kind of people — I could tell.

I don’t even know how I wasn’t prepared for the question:
“Why do you want to work here?”

I mean — for heaven’s sake — if a person can’t answer that, they shouldn’t get the job!

Martha asked me that question and my truly unprepared, but terribly raw response — when I looked around — was:

“Because it feels like home.”

Martha cracked a genuine smile and asked me why.

I looked around, asking myself the same thing to understand why I had that feeling.

I saw the government-issued 3-month calendar, where you save paper with the months on both sides. The chairs. The carpet. The signage. The halls. The overhead pages. Men with military regalia ambling down the hall. The feeling I always got crossing from a state line onto federal property.

So that is what I said.
I first pointed to the calendar on the wall, then the chairs. I mentioned something that was broken in a corner and talked about how it all felt familiar.

I didn’t think about puffing everyone up with “helping veterans,” giving back, stories of grandfathers who fought in wars — or all the other things I subsequently heard over the years when I eventually became the interviewer.

My answer was candid and from the heart.

If my interview were a cartoon, Martha would have started off in a knight’s costume — complete with armor — to intimidate me.
Then it would have fallen off, and you would have seen her heart literally melting.

She proudly walked me down the hall to the person who would eventually become my first supervisor at the VA.

With a hand on my shoulder, she introduced me in a way that made it clear she liked me and wanted to take me under her wing.

I already felt protected — and that I was with my people.

Today, I drove into for the last time.

The sunrise down the street from me. A new dawn to a brand new type of day for me.

I saw people parking, taking out their bags and lunches, putting on badges.
These people were donned in suits, scrubs, lab coats — and everything in between.

I vividly remembered those early days of parking in that same lot. The uniforms, cars and smells were so unfamiliar at the time. Now they are all second nature. All these years I have been taking the same steps into the same building and heading to the elevators —

“1st Floor, going up.”

Today, I ran into one of my coworkers walking into the building.

We got on the elevator together, and I heard that same electronic voice, unchanged in all these years.

I asked him about his two young girls. He filled me in and then asked how old my children were now.

28 and 26.
My youngest is now as old as I was when I first started working there.

I worked there for their entire lives.
In some ways, I missed their lives because of that place.

I don’t know who I am without it.

Some people would say I worked there a lifetime (23 years).

Others, who have 40, 45 years in the government, would still consider me a newbie.

It’s all relative. But for me — between the military and the Department of Veterans Affairs — it’s been my whole life.

I had jobs in different buildings and offices. Not too many were close to an elevator bank.

Today, as I left, it was:

“7th Floor, going down.”

It felt like:

“Esterina, now going down and out — into the wider world.”

I sat in the parking lot for a long time.
I read the cards I was given, sitting in my car with the air conditioning blasting.

I felt nostalgic — but very excited.

Driving away was the hardest part.
No tears, but a large lump in my throat.

A piece of my heart will always be there — in those buildings, carpets, walls, files.

And just like that — “7th Floor Going Down” — one chapter closes, and another begins.

The rest of my life. Day 1

Posted on by Esterina Anderson

Nothing feels different, but everything feels different.

Chapter 2 is what I am calling this.

I sit across the breakfast table from my husband, but my personal laptop is in place of my work one. There still feels like there are a million things to do. But honestly, not a single one of them really needs to be done.

Was it always like this? Meaning, did anything really ever need to get done?

My heart is beating and I’m racing against the clock—stuff to do… I have to remind myself that there is nothing to actually really do. Today, there will be no sound of bings and chimes to notify me of new emails, Teams messages, or upcoming meetings.

Each of those bings is accompanied (was accompanied—gosh, this will take getting used to) by a spike in alertness and heart rate. At this time of the morning (6:15—YES, Six Flipping Fifteen), my heart rate and anxiety were probably elevated a handful of times.

Whoa, writing that out sounds so unhealthy.
It is unhealthy. But I’ve been doing this for years.

Even when I was physically going into the office, I’d wake up around 5 a.m., and just thinking about the day ahead would spike my anxiety. Sometimes in a productive way, but often in a storm of worry about how to plan the day to squeeze the most out of it—for both home and work.

The drive in would be filled with thoughts, worry, plans, more plans. And once I had two kids—then suddenly four—that planning hit a whole new level: kazillion mode.

Things have been quieter in recent years with the kids out of the house and me working remotely. But the anxious habit stuck around. And so did the bings, dings, and mounting pressure of the average workday.

Not that long ago in a land not faraway

I remember back in 2002, my boss gave me access to her email because she found it overwhelming—she got up to 50 emails a day. I was floored. Fifty! I was getting maybe 10, mostly forwarded from her.

Now that number sounds almost quaint. If you get only 50 work emails a day in this era, you’re lucky.
Managing email has become its own professional skill.

Most of it? Nonsense. But stressful nonetheless.

I felt like I had to walk into each day in full armor, machete in hand, clearing the overgrown weeds before they even had a chance to stop growing. 90% of emails went straight to Trash. Of those, maybe 10% were actually important—but wading through the digital clutter? A waste. So I created workarounds, tasks, and filters.

OK—seriously, I’ve digressed. But wow. It’s all so absurd.

Getting Anyone’s Attention

You can’t count on someone seeing your email. Depending on how someone organizes their inbox (and I’ve seen some truly wild systems), they may never even notice your message.

Urgent? Tag it with an @? Add the exclamation point? All overused. All part of the noise.

So we escalate:
Teams. Work phone. Personal phone. Desk phone.
And all of it—every single one of those tools—comes with a sound, a vibration, a ding that makes your chest tighten and your focus scatter.

But Now…

I closed the door. I shut the laptop.
I walked away.

That’s why I’m sitting here this morning, coffee in hand, at a different computer.

And now I ask myself:
How long will this feeling of impending doom last?
(Not actual doom, of course—nothing I ever did was life-or-death. But that tight-chested feeling… it’s real.)

How long until I can simply be present?

I Want to Be Present

I want to be present in my life. I only get one.
And I’ve spent 49 years rushing through it.

I’m safe now. I don’t need to stress myself out daily.
If I live to be 100, I’m only halfway through.
How lucky is that?

I feel so grateful. So blessed.
And I don’t want to recreate the stressful life I just stepped away from.

It’s funny—I only found out a week ago that yesterday would be my last day of work. I didn’t dare dream about what’s next, out of fear I’d jinx it.

And now? The urge to plan the “what’s next” is already kicking in. But…
I don’t have to figure that out right now, do I?

There’s no rush.

I have the rest of my life—whether that’s a few hours or another 50 years.

Peace,
Esterina

On Being a Federal Government Employee: Fork in the Road

Posted on by Esterina Anderson

April 27th, 2025.

As I sit here on the Metro North Railroad next to my husband on this very sunny, very windy Sunday, late April morning, I’m filled with wanderlust and a sense of possibility. As we speed by I notice trees, mountains, houses, cars, waterways, docks… so many ways of living and modes of travel.  

The subway this morning, leaving New York City, back home to Connecticut

My heart aches to experience it all. I sit and watch, feeling stuck where I am; on a moving train that is going too fast. I am unable to really see, experience or touch any of it.  Destination known.

I marvel at how at any stop I could really get off. How I could take another train to another destination and experience something new. I could…. Why don’t I? Why haven’t I?  

I am a government employee.

A Fork in the Road.  

That is the title now infamous email sent to government employees on January 28th. It quite possibly could open doors, new roads, endless possibilities. However, the doors and possibilities are soured by the ruthless ways civil servants have been discussed in the past few months. 

I am government employee with a possibility of taking early retirement. I am 49 and was not planning to retire for a while. But the possibility cannot stop lingering on my mind. I want to see the world! I want to get out from under the grind, off the crazy train. The past few years, but particularly the past few months have dampened the passion of flames I once had for work. It was long burning down, but the new administration has left but the smallest of sparks still attempting to burn.    

I have given my entire adult life to the United States government. At 18 I went into the Coast Guard. At 22, I continued into the active reserve pool and became a weekend warrior while raising two babies. At 26, I became a civil servant where I have worked ever since. 

I’ve been on a train, on the path set out by many. Get an education, get a job, start a family, get the bigger house…. 

In the past 31 years with very little help from the supposedly educational funds and benefits that tempted me into the military in the first place I obtained a Professional Secretarial Certification, a Bachelors in Business Administration, an MBA, and a certification Healthcare Analytics. 

There were countless other trainings I took through work or on my own. Regardless of where I took these trainings, I immediately gave everything I learned back to the government through my work. Up to and including teaching yoga. 

I chose the government  because like many undiscussed Americans, particularly second generation Americans, I grew up not have basic securities met. We always had food, though food security was something my parents often struggled with. There were enough clothes and enough help to feel ok. We did not have healthcare and my parents did not have jobs with paid vacation or sick time. Retirement is still out of the question for my 74 year old father. My mother passed away at 49, in part to smoking; but more in part to not having access to healthcare. 

I chose the military for the benefits. Paid education, vacation days, and healthcare. The military also seemed as if it were fair and just, that there were rules that had to be followed and consequences for breaking those rules. My home seemed to be a place where there were no consequences and no rights for women or children. As a teenager with looming uncertainty of my future, the military recruiters at the tables stationed around my high school looked healthy, happy and secure in themselves. I wanted that for myself too. 

I still don’t know if recruiters purposely mislead or they themselves do not know, but many of the things I was told were only partial truths. Healthcare is not for life unless you are destitute once you separate from the armed forces. The Montogomery GI Bill hardly paid for a semester let alone an education. I was not able to apply for specialty school right out of bootcamp as an E-3, a benefit I personally took advantage of because I had spent 3 years in junior ROTC. The immediate bump from E-2 to E-3  wasn’t a huge benefit, but the one that likely made what was a tough decision at the time for me. A decision that ended up being a very good one for my life.

Swearing into the United States Military at MEMPS in Brooklyn NY August 9, 1994

From that time, and into my career, and until this very day; there were spouted benefits. Benefits that lured me in, but were not what they seemed to be. Benefits that few who are the gatekeepers to obtaining these benefits even seem to know about. 

My earliest experience was the lack of knowledge at my first duty station on being an E-3. Then seemingly gregarious barriers to putting my name on a wait list for specialty school. I did everything I was supposed to as quickly and efficiently as I could. It seemed to surprise people that I had the oomph to push through the barriers and keep pressing until I got the answers I was seeking. It seemed unnecessarily difficult, but that was only the start of many years ahead of pretty much the same. 

I met and married my first husband who was also in the military at the age of 19. We had no plans of having children anytime soon, but I did know about the benefit to females of taking two years off to raise a child and coming back to finish any required time that was owed to the government. 

When my husband and I were re-located and co-located from the west to east coast, the new dispensary that I was assigned did not carry the birth control pill I had been on for years. I was prescribed a new pill and immediately experienced unwanted side effects.  When I went to the dispensary to discuss these issues; they took some bloodwork to ensure I was not pregnant, prescribed a new type of pill, and asked me to not take any pills until my next cycle. 

My newlywed husband and I were careful, but obviously not careful enough because I never did start that next cycle. I was unintentionally pregnant at 20 years old. My new duty station (which was for the first time in my career on land [opposed to on ship]) helped me to apply for the two year program to raise a child. The administrators and I could not foresee my request being denied because I owed 2 exactly two years and my husband was also a service member. 

The request was denied without an explanation. We were flabbergasted. The men and their wives at my at my station were so supportive and helped me and my husband with taking care of our newborn child. I will forever be grateful for the rallying and support provided. 

October 1996, pregnant with my first born
My baby Thomas at just over a year old with his daddy

Two years later my owed time was up and I had the option to reenlist. For the majority of non-Air station based jobs, most Coast Guard members were required to be stationed on a ship alternating with land stations. Unless they specifically wanted to be on ship duty or if circumstances called, folks were allowed to be stationed on land for back to back tours. 

The military does married couples the honor of trying to station couples together or close by. My husband’s tour was also up. His job required him to be at an Air station which were far and few between. Air stations at the time also required a 1 in every 3 or 1 in every 4 evening overnight obligation. My job as a cook was one of the few jobs in the Coast Guard that did not require overnight stays at all. It was the only way we were able to get by raising our son until that point. That and the help from the members of my station. 

Service members have some input on where they would like to go by filling out what was referred to as a “Dream Sheet”. We filled out our dreams sheets and requested to go anywhere in the world as long as I could be stationed at a land station nearby an Air station so I could be home every evening with our son. It should not have come as a surprise when this reasonable request was denied. Yet it was a surprise and felt like a blow. 

The Commanding and Executive Officers who were fond of my hard work, impressed that I finished a secretarial certificate and was taking college classes, and who were already upset from the denial for the maternity leave I asked for were also infuriated. The Commanding Officer (unprompted) wrote a letter asking for my request to be reconsidered because he felt I was just the kind of person that the Coast Guard should want to keep. He received a response back saying that it was my turn to go on a boat and if I didn’t like it, I did not have to re-enlist. 

I did not reenlist.

I enlisted into the Active Reserves for four years instead. My husband stayed in and I became a military spouse. We had another baby and I finished my bachelor degree. 

Four years later in 2002, both my husband and I had completed all required obligations to the military. It was not long after 9/11 and we decided to take a plunge into the civilian world. 

Finding work in your twenties hot out of the military with little other work experience and family obligations is not easy. I was interested in federal employment because of the benefits and pension.

I applied to dozens of government and private sector positions. It took about 6 months to find a temporary grant funded government position.

During my first few years as a civil servant I applied for the programs and leadership trainings that were available, but I was denied participation because I was not a permanent employee. I went back to school (out of pocket) while working full time and raising 2 children for an MBA. 

I used the information I was learning in school and my personal drive constantly to make my job, my role, and in turn my organization a better place. In 2007 I finished my Masters degree and landed a full time permanent position. About 5 minutes later I was asked to teach and mentor students in the programs I had never taken and had been denied access to. I was not snarly or punishing because I paid for and took my own initiative to learn what they denied me access to. I excitedly obliged because I wanted to provide my organization with the passion and knowledge I myself wanted to share. 

MBA graduation in 2007

I cannot believe that was 18 years ago. Since then I’ve learned even more. In my journey as a government employee I’ve changed as a human, but maintained exceptional performance reviews for every single rating period for 31 years without fail. I have given the government every piece of knowledge I learned, and for many many years, many more hours than I was ever paid for. 

I have since been divorced and remarried. My children have grown and left the nest. I’ve taken many other trainings at work and outside of work. I trudged a personal journey of experiencing C-PTSD from childhood which involved drinking, recovery and a lot of therapy.

Very typical office set up I had (back in the days I had an office that is)
At my ‘hands down’ favorite position I held in Primary Care
Screenshot
Group of lady work friends I had for many years

I’ve been on the path. I was not planning to retire now. I have more to give. But do I want to give it to the government anymore??? 

My heart has not  been in it a while. And the current administration seems to admonish and mock employees like myself. 

Until this very day I am dealing with “benefits” unknown to those who are the gatekeepers. My latest escapade involves healthcare. I have been paying for health insurance for a family through the Federal Employee Health Benefits (FEHB) since 2002. A few years ago while I was undergoing intensive outpatient therapy I was part-time and we used my husband’s insurance because the employee share for part-timers is unaffordable. We switched back to my insurance over 4 years ago, but the government has a stipulation that upon retirement in order to keep the FEHB for life, you have to have paid FEHB for the 5 consecutive years prior to retirement. 

This is what stopped me from Taking the Fork in the Road back in January. Healthcare. One of the very reasons I entered into the federal workforce 31 years ago. The lack of which (healthcare) I attribute to my mom passing at 49 years old. The very age I happen to be at the moment.

The only time I did not pay for healthcare was for the short period of time I shortened my work hours to deal with mental health issues.

Most veterans have mental health issues. Most individuals enter the military because the benefits outweigh the personal risks. Most individuals who join at a young age do not have many other options. Those lack of options, lack, limit = mental health issues that if not already experiencing, will likely show up later in life when the dust has settled. Like it did for me.

Back in January when the Fork in the Road email was sent, I read all over the place in OPM guidance and other government sources that under VERA authority (when early retirement is being offered) the Office of Personnel Management (OPM) waives this 5 year healthcare payment requirement. I asked about it at the time. No one has ever heard of it. Of course they haven’t. I’ve been down this sad road before. Benefits that are there but unknown or in some way inaccessible.

My Department is offering VERA again due to impending RIFs (Reduction in Force) and this time it specifically states that OPM is waiving the 5-year requirement. 

Why am I still here? What do I have to gain? 

I think I want to get off the train. I watch the world literally and proverbially whizzing by. A world I long to see and experience. 

I am not one of these mystery civil servants you hear on the news. One of these lazy people who is just taking from the population and needs their job to be cut with a sledge hammer. I gave the government more than I gained from it. I know my job can be involuntary cut in a few weeks. If I get to keep a job at all, there is no guarantee it will be at my salary level or that I enjoy. 

Yes, there is waste in the government. There is waste in all organizations. The fairness I had been seeking when entering the federal workforce is not on everyone’s side. As employees under the rule of the law, we are mostly indistinguishable from one another. All kind of being lumped in with the bath water that our administration wants to throw out.

As I reflect on my journey, I realize that my experiences have shaped me into the person I am today. The highs and lows, the challenges and triumphs, have all contributed to my growth and resilience. While the uncertainty of early retirement looms, I am filled with hope and possibility. I am ready to embrace change and explore new horizons. My dedication to public service has been unwavering, and I am proud of the contributions I have made. As I contemplate the next chapter of my life, I am reminded that there is so much more of me to give. The world is full of opportunities, and I am eager to seize them. 

 

Last photo I have with my mom (far left)

 

Journey Through the Self: Exploring the Five Koshas in Yoga

Posted on by Esterina Anderson

“Yoga is the journey of the self, through the self, to the self.”
– Bhagavad Gita

In the ancient Vedic texts, we find a beautiful framework for understanding the self beyond the physical body. Known as the Panchamaya Kosha system, this five-layered model is still embraced by yoga therapists today as a holistic map for healing and self-discovery.

Each kosha, or “sheath,” represents a different layer of our being—from the tangible to the most subtle essence of who we are. These sheaths are energetic in nature.

Since this is a conceptual idea, it’s not easily visualized. This is an artistic rendition I created, using inspiration from search engines, to give the model a visual form.

Let’s take a guided journey through each layer, pausing along the way to reflect, breathe, and connect.

Annamaya Kosha: The Physical Body

The outermost layer is the Annamaya Kosha, often referred to as the “food body.” Annamaya derives from the words anna (food) and maya (made of), signifying that the body is composed of physical matter sustained by food. It is the densest of the five koshas and the layer most familiar to us—the physical body that we see and touch.

According to the Bhagavad Gita, it is the body that allows us to engage with the material world and fulfill our physical needs.

Yoga asana (postures) help us strengthen and care for this layer. But it’s only the beginning.

Beyond our physical body exists a subtler, more energetic presence—what the yogis call the life force or prana. This leads us to the next kosha: Pranamaya Kosha.

Pranamaya Kosha – The Breath or Energy Body

Beneath the surface of what we see and touch lies a subtler layer of our being—the Pranamaya Kosha, or breath body. This sheath is composed of prana, the vital life energy that flows through and animates us. It is this energy that sustains every physical and mental function. It’s not too dissimilar to “chi,” as known in Chinese traditions.

This kosha both surrounds and penetrates the Annamaya Kosha, flowing through subtle channels known as nadis—akin to the meridians in Traditional Chinese Medicine. Ancient texts speak of nearly 72,000 nadis crisscrossing our being, creating an intricate web of energy distribution as sophisticated as our physical body.

It is said that when this energetic layer is vibrant and balanced, it manifests as vitality, clarity, and resilience. An imbalanced or blocked pranic flow, on the other hand, can lead to physical fatigue, emotional disturbances, or even illness.

Because prana is intimately tied to the breath, pranayama (breath control) becomes a key yogic tool to nourish and regulate this sheath. Practices such as deep diaphragmatic breathing, alternate nostril breathing (nadi shodhana), and kapalabhati invigorate and purify the Pranamaya Kosha, enhancing the flow of energy throughout the body.

Breath becomes the bridge between the body and the mind. As you become more aware of your breath, you tap into the present moment, calming the nervous system and centering the mind.

Manomaya Kosha: The Mental Sheath

The Manomaya Kosha is the “mental sheath,” representing the mind and emotions. It is associated with our thoughts, feelings, and mental patterns, known in Sanskrit as vrittis. This kosha encompasses the mental body—our emotional responses, internal dialogue, and perceptions of the world.

As one of the more subtle layers of our being, the Manomaya Kosha significantly influences how we interpret experiences and impacts our overall well-being. The mind shapes our interactions with the world and colors our experiences with judgment, attachment, and preference.

Cultivating mindfulness is key to mastering this sheath. By learning to observe our thoughts without attachment, we can begin to detach from mental chatter and emotional turbulence. Meditation is a powerful tool for calming the mind and finding inner stillness.

🧘‍♂️ Practice Tip: Let your thoughts come and go without judgment. Be the observer, not the story.

Vijnanamaya Kosha – The Wisdom Body

This kosha is the intellectual or wisdom sheath, housing our intuition, discernment, and inner knowing. It’s the layer of deep insight that enables us to distinguish truth from illusion, and ego from the true Self.

“Listen beyond your thoughts to the quiet wisdom within.”

This sheath transcends ordinary thinking. It’s where we connect with spiritual insight and our inner compass, guiding us toward Svadharma—our true calling.

This kosha is about deep understanding—not just of the world, but of our true nature.

Last night I taught a class and went through this exercise to describe what the 3rd and 4th kosha might look like.

Close your eyes and picture a bright red triangle.
Where did it come from? Your thoughts created it, but it isn’t real. I suggested it, but the image itself is imaginary.
Now ask: Who is seeing that triangle?
It’s not your thoughts—they made it. The one seeing it is the witness. That part of you is real. It watches your thoughts come and go without being them.

The red triangle will fade with the next thought, but the witness remains. It observes what arises—whether from outside influence, subconscious memory, or your own deeper wisdom.

Now, imagine that red triangle turning into a dark purple circle.
Who made that change? Who watched it happen?

This is the heart of self-awareness: You are not your thoughts.
Thoughts pass through like weather. But if you’re not aware, they shape your emotions, breath, and even your body.


The wisdom body discerns the difference between the thoughts and emotions (Manomaya Kosha) and the witness who is unaffected by the thoughts (next kosha). However, your thoughts and emotions do affect your breath and ultimately your physical body. So mind your thoughts!

Anandamaya Kosha – The Bliss Body

At the center of all the koshas lies the Anandamaya Kosha, known as the “bliss body.” This is the most subtle and innermost layer of our being—beyond the physical, energetic, mental, and wisdom layers. It represents our pure essence, a state of peace, joy, and spiritual bliss.

This kosha isn’t shaped by thoughts, emotions, or material form. Instead, it is pure being—the unchanging, eternal part of us, often touched during deep meditation, savasana, or moments of transcendence in everyday life.

It embodies Sat-Chit-Ananda—existence, consciousness, and bliss—where the ego dissolves and unity with all of creation is felt. These aren’t fleeting emotions but deep, abiding joy and contentment, experienced when we are in perfect alignment with our true self.

Practices like meditation, mindfulness, and present-moment awareness help us access this layer. In yoga, it’s the ultimate experience—being one with the divine, at peace, beyond form.

You might even say this is Your Spirit. There’s another blog I wrote just a few weeks ago about this place: https://esterinaanderson.com/2025/02/12/on-your-spirit/

Integrating the Five Koshas

Yoga is not just about stretching our bodies—it’s about integrating all parts of our being: body, breath, mind, wisdom, and spirit. As we journey inward, we realize that these layers are not separate, but interwoven—each one informing and supporting the others.

By nurturing all five koshas, we move closer to our true Self—the eternal spark of consciousness that yoga ultimately helps us remember.

Namaste,

Esterina

On Your Spirit

Posted on by Esterina Anderson

There is a part of you that cannot die. 

Nothing can hurt it. 

It can’t hurt anyone else.

That part of you is incapable of judging. 

It’s unable to get riled up. 

It purely is a witness to the world around it. 

That part of you accepts life on life’s terms. 

That part of you is connected to everything else in the universe. 

It is part of the universal consciousness that just witnesses life as it unfolds. 

 

It’s not happy, sad, or in favor of anyone or anything. It has no ties to the outcome of a single thing. It just is. 

 

Content. Accepting. Peaceful

 

That part is your Everlasting Soul. 

 

It sounds like a creepy church thing (to me). But when I take a step back from those words I personally associate with creepy or religious, I realize that the Bible, the Torah, the Quran, the Bhagavad Gita, Hinduism, Buddhism…. all say the same thing. All say we have a soul, spirit, or any word you care to use.

 

All these teachings tell us our soul is imperishable and connected to everything else in the universe. 

 

All these teachings tell us that we can tap into this part of ourselves through prayer, meditation or other forms of contemplation.

 

All these teachings promise that connecting with the deeper source helps us to tune out the noise of the outside world and experience bliss through complete peace. 

 

We all have access to this peace at any moment. Sometimes we find it by accident while walking, looking at a beautiful picture, listening to a piece of music, watching the birds, connecting with another human, or even in a yoga class. There is no right or wrong way to commune with Spirit.

 

What if we saw these great teachings as the allegories they were meant to be and listened to the common themes? 

 

There are so many common themes in these texts. The focus here is on the commonality of spirit and that all the scriptures tell us that our real essence(spirit/soul) simply cannot die. That part lives on past our body’s expiration. 

 

Consider this very special gift, that is not a secret, that every religion, mystic, sage, philosopher, and wisdom teacher has been telling us since the beginning of time. 

 

 

This all sounds lovely, but how is it applied to real life? What does it mean? 

 

Last week in the yoga classes I taught, I used a quote from the 13th century Sufi poet Rumi that says:

 

“There is a voice that doesn’t use words, listen” ~Rumi

 

I hear from so many people that they do not feel connected to a higher power and that something within them longs for it. They look in churches, synagogues, and books for the answers because it is where we have been taught to look.  

 

Personally I am not sure any religion has yet to nail down the perfect prescription for connecting to our souls, but they all have certainly tried and each in its own way has advised us to look no further than within. 

 

“What you seek is seeking you” ~Rumi

 

I can sometimes find this inner peace. In my personal experience I am unable to connect to the spirituality I’m seeking through my brain on an intellectual level. I connect when I shut down thinking and just allow myself to be. 

 

These connections can take place through prayer or meditation. The key is to turn off the non-stop chatterbox voice in your head. The voice that is generated from the brain. 

 

Your spirit is not the voice you hear. The voice is not the real you, the real you is what is hearing that voice. Your spirit is observing the internal noise of that voice and the external world around you. 

 

You are not the angel or devil on your shoulder who are arguing back and forth, justifying a decision or trying to be right. You are the witness listening to these internal dialogues. 

 

The witness is not biased one way or another. The witness just exists. Without judgement or attachment to any kind of an outcome. 

 

We should tap in to recharge, gain perspective, and refuel. Feel the bliss and know that our essence will always be ok. 

 

Does this mean we just sit by and watch the wheels go round and round? I don’t know, but I do not think so. 

 

Religion and spiritual teachings ask us to tap in AND to use our human skills and abilities to do good things in the world.

 

We are not meant to sit completely idle.

 

We need to get off the mat or prie-dieu and do our work in the world. 

 

That work is to make the world a better place than we found it. The work involves using our skills and abilities to influence what we can around us in positive ways. The Serenity Prayer is a perfect guide to keeping that balance of  our circle of control, our circle of influence, where those circles end and where there is little or no control. 

 

Do not be discouraged by what you cannot change. Be the change you want to see. 

 

The strength to accept what can’t be changed,

The courage to change what you can,

And the wisdom to know the difference.

 

 

When this is difficult to do, you can always tune back within: 

 

“There is a voice that doesn’t use words, listen” ~Rumi

 

 

And you know what else? This spirit within me – sees that same Spirit within you! 

 

Or as modern day multi-media artist Morgan Harper Nichols writes: “The same light you see in others is shining within you, too.”

 

It’s easier to recognize the spirit in others when you can access it yourself. 

 

Namaste 

 

 

 

 

 

On our Clothing Donations and Ghana Beaches

Posted on by Esterina Anderson

If you don’t know about the world wide problem of clothes on the Ghanian beaches, and have a moment, stop right here and just look up  “clothes in the ocean off Ghana” and choose images. What you will see is not an exaggeration. It’s real and it’s disturbing.

The clothes we give away to thrift or place in bins have the best of intentions coming from us. There are people who benefit and get their clothes from these places. But there are not enough people in the world who have clothing needs in comparison to the waste.

Back in 2017 my husband and I traveled to Africa for a few weeks on an overland Safari. Twice we passed through the town of Maun in Botswana. It was the only town with the smallest sign of stores and street vendors that we saw in the entire country. Do you know what they were mostly selling? Clothes. Clothes from first world countries that we buy and donate. Racks and racks upon streets and streets of our old clothes.

You would be hard pressed to meet anyone who hasn’t heard about the horrors of the clothing business and sweat shops. Even though it’s been about 20-30 years since I first heard about it, the problem only seems to be getting worse. More and more shops pop up with more and more humans ‘earning’ starvation level wages, being denied bathroom breaks and sick leave. What’s worse? Knowing this hasn’t helped me to remember to stop with the buying. I did start shopping consignment a few years ago, but it’s so tempting to keep buying cheap inexpensive items online when I need something and it shows up right at my door less than a day later.

But it doesn’t make it right.

Despite my own attempts to streamline and keep a capsule closet, somehow every few months I have an overstuffed closet and find myself purging my clothes, shoes and jewelry, keeping only “what sparks joy”. I attempt the “sparks joy” mantra when I am online and needing for example, a simple pair of black leggings. Do you know how difficult it would  be to find a pair of black leggings in a thrift or consignment shop? That also means I need to leave my couch and spend what little precious time I have off in a store with racks of clothes packed so tight that it hurts my fingers to even push the hangers aside.

So instead I jump on Amazon and put “small black leggings” in the search bar. My intention is for it to end there – just to choose a single pair and get off. But there are so many options I find myself spending entirely too much time clicking on multiple images that are not capris, have fringe, a flap on the waste, some ridiculous pattern… Minutes and minutes tick by. I find one that is perfect, I think! But not my size, they are not black, they don’t carry black. I click and click and I’m in a hole of despair. Then finally I’ll find a pair in a 3 pack. Do I choose the pack of three black or the ones that have black, white and red? I could use a red pair I tell myself, to match the tunic I bought and haven’t worn yet because my last pair of cheap (black none-the-less) leggings have a hole in a seam. Even though black would match, red would match better. And then right next to that 3 pack is another with grey, navy and army green. Those would all match great too! Yay I think. Now that I have spent more time than it would take to drive to a store to find leggings, I finally find a pair. I just bought 6 pairs and I believe I am done.

They seem to arrive 5 minutes later and one of two things will happen. I will either unpack them and put them away, or try them on because they look funny, or see-through or too tight. If I keep them the likelihood of me using them is low – I will more than likely grab the simple black pair over and over until they crumble to trash in a few months and completely forget about these other colors. When I purge my overflowing closet again in a few months I will donate them because I don’t use them. They don’t spark joy.

OR I will try them on and hate them. Then I will find myself having to drive to Kohl’s to return them. Kohls will give me a 5% off coupon at which time I will pass leggings on my way to the far end of the store and I will buy a pair on the spot without trying them on because I am in a rush to get somewhere. The same saga will unfold and those leggings I returned are not going back on a shelf – they are being donated or thrown away (look this up too, it’s true).

This is all from me, with good intentions. Who attempts to only shop fair trade or consignment. And I’m in the hole with the rest of the world. A cog in a horrific wheel of human waste, destroying the planet.

This isn’t just a problem with leggings for me. Or clothes. In the past 6 months I cannot even tell you how many coffee frothers I have been through. I will not even look at Temu. When I search “American Made” or “Fair Trade” – it’s almost as if search engines are broken. All I get are ads, sponsors and the absolute inability to tell where or how anything is made.  

A paragraph from my enraged husband: Now we have a new online shopping service, Temu, that has taken “fast fashion”, the concept of cheap clothes production destined to be worn and thrown out quickly, to a new level. Temu specializes in selling high volume, low quality clothes and other junk from China. They offer incredibly low prices through a combination of Chinese government subsidies, purchasing clothes from Chinese factories that exploit their workers, (look up the factory policy of 996) and avoiding US import taxes by shipping in small quantities.  China makes no secret about its goal of dominating global production of goods, and they do so through anti-competitive practices that leave US made and other non-Chinese producers at a disadvantage. Shop like a billionaire = shop and contribute to mountains of garbage on African beaches, and poor Chinese workers with no time for anything other than work and sleep AND forcing companies from other countries out of business.

I don’t know how to stop the madness, but look at Ghana. It starts with awareness at least. How about “shop like an informed billionaire”.

An article just published today on the NY Times: https://www.nytimes.com/2024/09/14/business/economy/tariffs-amazon-walmart-china-shein.html?smid=nytcore-ios-share&referringSource=articleShare&sgrp=c-cb&ngrp=mnp&pvid=1B1BD8B6-958A-4F1A-91C1-25CBD779178E

What is Biden’s Responsibility for the Economy?

Posted on by Esterina Anderson

There is no arguing that prices are higher than they were 4 years ago. That’s a fact.

However, regardless of who was in office, the worldwide economy would have played out similarly to how it is today. Prices here in the United States (groceries, housing, anything really) would have been comparable under any President.

Of the 196 tracked countries around the world, all have experienced inflation in the past 4 years. The U.S. is at the bottom 37% (123rd of 196) as far as inflation goes. Of course you shouldn’t believe me and do your own research. But if you don’t want to here is one article I found that seems succinct and where I came up with the bottom 37% number https://gfmag.com/data/economic-data/worlds-highest-lowest-inflation-rates/

So why is the economy worse? Did Biden cause it? Is it because the world is laughing at the old man in office and how incompetent the U.S.? Is it because of the immigrants (which many first world countries are experiencing btw; but a story for another day).

NO.

The economy would have been as bad as you think it is because COVID disrupted supply chains. People stocked up on food, office furniture and baking goods around the world. They saved money because there was nowhere to spend it except on goods (services of all kinds were unavailable) and almost all our governments put in place some kind of allowance so people without jobs would have money. Supplies that were coming in were backed up in shipping containers at harbors trickling in very slowly and so the demand for wanted goods drove up prices. Job growth slowed around the world. People learned how to do with less very quickly. Services industries all fell.

When worldwide COVID restrictions eased, many people had saved money so they didn’t need it right away and didn’t go back to work for those 2nd jobs or back to the office when they worked remotely. Other than more money in their pockets, many people feared going back to work and getting sick from the virus. Many companies took advantage of “working from home” by hiring the best of the best for higher salaries.

When restrictions lifted around the world people emerged from their homes figuratively hungry to be back in the world and not so eager to work in it. Restaurants, travel, and tourism all surged but they hadn’t yet replenished the workforce they let go. Suddenly we couldn’t fill service level jobs and job growth hit an all time high. To keep the few service workers from not quitting or calling out sick every day, companies paid them more. Where did they get the money from to pay everyone more in the service industries and by recruiting cream of the crop workers who wanted to work from home? Well that would be through increasing the prices all through the supply chain just a bit – which ends up being a lot for that same good or service at the end of the supply chain… That would be us as the consumers.

That’s a simple explanation of something WAY more complicated. There are multiple more layers, but almost none of them have to do with anyone who runs a country. This is a worldwide issue, not just a U.S. one.

Unless you studied business or economics, you probably never really learned how the economy works. You might recall some terms from high school social studies like invisible hand and laisse faire; but how do they apply to real life for our country and our country’s place in the world?

The government itself has a great influence over the economy. Not due to Republican or Liberals who are in office, but due to how much we close or open money flow based on predictions about how the market will go. It’s a gamble. The President is not very involved in those decisions and can do very little to strong arm those decisions. The people making those gambly (not a real word) predictions are Economists who work with very complicated statistical predictions and other world-wide economists who also work with complicated predictive programs and calcuations.

It’d be less of a gamble if the United States were in a bubble, because we’d be gambling at least with the knowledge of what we know and can control. But the International market (trade, finance, stocks, reliance of companies that supply multiple countries) make it very hard to predict what will happen and how to reign in or open up money flow. Throw in stock crashes, scandals, wars, pandemics and it’s even more and more of a gamble.

Yes, there could be some change or influence by who is in office, but not as much as you think. Not enough for a normal person in the 99.9% to notice much of a difference in their household budget.

This isn’t just me being Pollyanna or not understanding how the world works.

Why not learn about why not I’m BS’ing you? There are some resources below – or you can do your own research too.

It’s fun to know how things work.

#Learning bit

#It’s fun to learn how things work

#Take a bite a day

https://www.worldbank.org/en/research/brief/global-inflation

To what extent did Covid cause inflation?
You Decide: Can the President Control the Economy?

https://www.worldbank.org/en/research/brief/global-inflation#:~:text=In%20July%202022%2C%20global%20inflation,above%20the%20pre%2Dpandemic%20average

https://www.pewresearch.org/short-reads/2022/06/15/in-the-u-s-and-around-the-world-inflation-is-high-and-getting-higher/

On Laughing

Posted on by Esterina Anderson

A few days I met with a group of women. The group is not large, but a little too large for intimate conversation without a small amount of facilitation. So there is a discussion topic for each time we meet that everyone is aware of ahead of time. For this meeting the discussion topic was as follows:

What do you feel you can do better – or like better about yourself at this age versus when you were younger? 

Consequently, what do you feel you did better or liked better about yourself when you were younger vs. now? 

The caveat was that we couldn’t discuss our bodies. 

I absolutely loved hearing what other women had to share. I personally have so many things on the first question and not many on the second. My initial response to the second question was that I miss having passion for work. 

This morning however while I was walking my dog and contemplating many Facebook Friend’s need to criticize Kamala Harris for smiling and laughing too much, I realized that what I really miss about being younger is laughing. 

This realization began with me feeling a kinship with Kamala for laughing and smiling too much. I remember being in class on the first day of school every year and a teacher saying something quite funny that everyone chuckled at, but I laughed. Like really laughed. Ten minutes later I would remember what they said and giggle about it again. It was those times that I felt free and connected. I was engaged and listening and not worried about what other people thought of me. I was open to hearing and learning and contributing – and just being.

I used to laugh with my friends. I laughed so so so much my family, particularly my brother Mario. 

When I joined the military and was in Boot Camp I used to get in trouble for laughing and often the contagion it caused. The company commanders were quite hilarious when yelling at us or instilling advice. “It looks like the captains cat puked on your belt buckle recruit! How can you show up looking like this?” 

I’d laugh. My friend Brando would catch on. Others started too. The company commander would yell more- which only became funnier. Sometimes that company commander would eventually laugh too. Other times when they continued to scream I’d see from the corner of my eye that their lips would turn upward and they were hiding their amusement and light heart from us. 

Do I think that because we broke out laughing that it would be ok to show up with a dirty belt buckle for inspection? Of course not. The lesson wasn’t less powerful because we laughed at it. 

Years later in my early professional career I would sit in meetings and look around.  I would often take a pulse of the audience to see how engaged they were. What I would often see and most often on women, was a resting frown. Now we have the term of “resting bitch face”. 

I saw that these individuals were mostly engaged, but their faces told a different story. They looked miserable and angry. I’d take note that my lips probably were resting in the same way and would actually change my lips into a happier, yet non smiling, neutral position on purpose. I didn’t want to look miserable because I didn’t actually feel miserable. When I facilitated meetings and saw this face on participants, I would throw humor in the mix just so that face would leave. When someone in the crowd either during a meeting I was facilitating or participating in would make a funny comment, I’d laugh to acknowledge that I not only heard them, but appreciated the comic relief. What I found when people were smiling and appreciating that I heard their humor, is that they were more engaged and open to hearing others. 

As I’m pushing 50 I don’t laugh nearly as much as I used to, but I notice I still laugh more than most people and try to smile, engage and add comic relief when engaging with others. It’s a habit I don’t even think about now. 

So what is so wrong with smiling and laughing? When you smile people often smile back. No matter how serious the conversation is, having a sense of openness is always appropriate and smiling often indicates openness. It sends out vibes of friendliness and willingness to let others in. It doesn’t mean that the smiler doesn’t have opinions or an agenda or important things to say. 

Smiling and laughing does not equal being stupid. 

I need to understand why we are criticizing Kamala for being happy? For conveying warmth and laughing when someone in the corner says something funny at a time others are trying to be more serious? There is nothing wrong with dialing tension down a notch and acknowledging that we are all human and we can find silliness and humor in nearly anything. Not hurtful humor of course, but humor.

It took a few days, but the question in my women’s group about what I liked about myself when I was younger vs now- is that I laughed. I laughed and laughed it felt good. And it actually made others feel good. 

On Speaking Out loud about Things that Matter

Posted on by Esterina Anderson

We have to be able to talk about things that matter. It is the only way to create a secure and fair future. There are many ways and areas in which this is needed, but my blog today is about political matters.

We have to demand our elected officials are people of moral integrity and have the fortitude and curiosity to consider all opinions, even ones different from their own.

Leaders are supposed to be our inspiration to make the world a better place. We should ask them to Be the Change we want to see.

The world I want to see does not include bullying, meanness and heckling. Getting things done is not accomplished in that manner unless there is a fire or war and the fighters need to listen – pronto.

While it might seem like it, at the moment there is no emergency and there is no place for using degradation and meanness to get things done.

Tuesday evening, I attended to a banned book club on the Handmaid’s Tale. For anyone unfamiliar with the story, it’s a novel based on a mix of completely true historical events cobbled together into something that based on the past and the mindset that “it could never happen here”, could very likely happen just about anywhere.

Anywhere being the good ol’ United States of America in the fictional state of Gilead.

At the end of the book there is a short chapter taking place in the far future where historians reference the book as the first period of Gilead. In this future chapter, the reference of the first period assumes there are many other periods of time following before Gilead fell. What seems frightening is that I could almost see a future in which historians are studying the rise and fall of the United States which at just over 200 years old was taken over by extremists, beginning the first period of a reign of something none of us could have foreseen.

Think about it.

How can such a thing happen in a place where “it could never happen here”?

Perhaps it is because people become afraid to talk or do anything about anything that they perceive as potentially uncomfortable.

Are we not already at a place where this is the case?

What does this have to do with our leaders?

The italicized below is from an exchange between my brother Mario & I yesterday morning. 

BEFORE you have an opinion about it, can you consider the topic as it relates to civility? The point is about RESPECT. Yes, the writer said negative things about someone you may or may not like, the grammar of my writing or his might not  be perfect, but if you miss the message about being civil you are missing the focus and crux of the blurb and this blog.

Mario: Maybe this United States isn’t worth saving.

Esterina: What now? I meant there are so many reasons, but what is today’s?

Mario: Just saw a clip of state of union address last night.  Margorie Taylor Green, actually heckled Biden. Interrupting the President of the US. In the middle of a nationally televised speech. I am sure it’s viewed internationally. This pig of a congresswoman. Senators hooting and hollering like a Baptist church.

Look somehow if we in anyway accepted this, if the people elect a woman who interrupts a state of the union address, then it’s too far gone.

If civility is not in the people, then by default incivility must be in the people.  

And no it’s too far gone.  How do you solve that? How do you explain to people to be decent?

As I was writing the start of this blog yesterday, Mario texted more. I’ll paste it at the end because I think it wraps up the point I am trying to make nicely.

I didn’t want to post this because it could seem polarized. It could seem like I am a liberal and that might automatically put me in a box where I want to tear down statues and defund the police. Instead of doing that, it would be easier for me to post a photo of my dog and talk about my wonderful life.

While I am focusing on my lovely life (whether or not it’s actually lovely at the moment) and being afraid to voice my opinion and the wrath of what people think about what they think my opinion is, more people will be rallying (most quietly) and thanking Marjorie Taylor Green for having the courage to heckle what they perceive as a moron. That is not the world and change I want to see.

Similar to what the world must have been like before Gilead in the Handmaid’s Tale, it is far easier to go on with our everyday lives, remain neutral and be fearful that if you voice an opinion that you will be boxed into a category of ‘sides’ and get into an argument where two viewpoints are attempting to convince the other party of the right way to do things instead of listening respectfully and considering opinions different from their own.

A 2021 Gallop shows a record number of Americans who identify as independent. Myself included. A record number of people remaining quietly neutral.

I think we are remaining neutral because it seems both sides have moved to extreme views that we do not agree with. However, as we are remaining neutral, those sides are still “duking it out” and becoming more powerful in ways the majority of us do not agree with. While they are behaving like we are in combat and not like a democracy with a constitution that requires we consider both sides; either side could “win” and change the shape of our future completely.

I’m not sure how to stop this except to rally together with others to shame meanness, hatred and inability to behave decently in our day-to-day lives and in our elected officials.

We need to demand that our leaders do their jobs by being an example of morality, kindness and having the ability to listen to a viewpoint different than their own without shaming and demoralizing the other side.

While remaining neutral and not talking about things that matter seems safe right now, history has showed this has lead to consequences I am certain we do not want. It can change by making it the norm to have discussions about uncomfortable things.

The New York Times in America Has a Free Speech Problem  wrote the following:

For all the tolerance and enlightenment that modern society claims, Americans are [afraid to] voice their opinions in public without fear of being shamed or shunned.

How has this happened? In large part, it’s because the political left and the right are caught in a destructive loop of condemnation and recrimination around cancel culture. Many on the left refuse to acknowledge that cancel culture exists at all, believing that those who complain about it are offering cover for bigots to peddle hate speech. Many on the right, for all their braying about cancel culture, have embraced an even more extreme version of censoriousness as a bulwark against a rapidly changing society, with laws that would ban books, stifle teachers and discourage open discussion in classrooms.

Being afraid and sticking to your side is very human and natural. But we need to demand more of our leaders. They need to be able to inspire us to step out of our comfort zones, not retreat into them.

While we are mindlessly watching kitten videos and the Handmaid’s Tale on Hulu thinking we are safe and free in our nation, it’s very possible that the mindless head in the sand attitude is how one of the extremist sides will take over and our ancestors will wonder how the heck we let it happen….

Mario: Of the state of the union address last night.  I don’t watch because what’s really said? Rhetoric?

But Margorie Taylor Greene interrupted Biden, heckled him, called out loud from her seat in the congressional chamber and interrupted the leader of the free world.

I have my criticisms of Biden too.  In that short clip the poor man kept tripping over his own words.  It made him appear frail and weak to me.  

Let me take a step back and say I believe small things come together to make big things.

 So I am the type of person who pulls up to a restaurant and sees lights out on the exterior signage and I think, if they can’t get bulbs replaced, what kind of food am I in for.  Then I go use the restroom and it’s not sparkling clean and I think what does the kitchen look like.  

If Biden (supposed to be the most powerful man in the world) can’t command the respect to not be interrupted.  Well that’s saying something about him.  Teachers would be considered failures if they’re interrupted. 

If we elect a woman who doesn’t have decency enough to listen to Biden on this stage, that says something about her and the constituents. 

If she is not shunned by congress members that says something about them.

And if this isn’t shocking us, then that says something about “us”.

It means we’re used to this, it means we accepted this or have become blasé to this behavior.  

We cannot be considered a great nation if that’s the case.  

What does it mean for the US to be great?  

What it means for me is this.  That at one time we formed a nation bound in its political beliefs.  Namely free speech, religion, tolerance, we could assemble and protest and pursuit life, liberty, property, happiness.  

We respected each other, we thought debate was a virtue, we listened to each other and were willing to be wrong.  Because we created a nation a place and time on earth where opportunity existed. Merit was rewarded and on and on.  This was our greatness, never perfect but we believed in something, and that something was good and part of that good was decency.  

We have become indecent.  We write and accept tax laws that are these super complicated laws with secret loopholes that are only available to people rich enough to hire highly trained tax attorneys to find the secrets.  

That is indecent thing for our government to do to citizens for whom they’re supposed to be working for.  

And I can write a book on all the ways we have become indecent.  But shocked I was to find out in the state of the union someone can interrupt the speaker.  

Congress and the nation is there to hear what that man, Biden has to say, they are not there to hear her.  Her electors watching that behavior should never vote for her again.  

When you interrupt a speech your saying (without saying) you have no respect for Biden.  For what he is saying and that you’re there not to listen but to speak or disrupt.

Even if you’re the biggest MAGA person, shouldn’t you at least respect the other side that you need to work with to solve the problems of this nation? 

When we collectively lose sight of that, which by not being shocked we have, we have already all just lost.

I mean if we can’t stand up to interruptions, how do we stand up to Hamas bombing Jews and what seems like Jews overreacting?

The small things make the big things.

It starts with the small things. Every person should consider the following when they are about to speak:

  • Is it true?
  • Is it kind?
  • Is it necessary?

Why don’t we rally together and Cancel Meanness?

Why don’t we call out and shame someone who is being disrespectful?

Why don’t we stop being afraid of what other people think and engage in open discussions about things that matter with the intent to learn something you might not have considered before?

The words and signs BE KIND don’t say enough, but it says it all.