Anchor Wellness, LLC

09/04/2025

Today was not my favorite medical day. (I lived. But still.)

Imagine you’re in a dental chair. Leaning back watching a nature documentary. You’re ready for some imaging and some “molding” for a tooth needing some help. You’re pretty inexperienced with dental procedures because of genes and luck and some great brushing. Today’s appointment should be a breeze. Because they said it was just “prep.”

But here comes a huge needle. No narrative. Damn that thing takes a long time to deliver the Novacaine into the gum. Not what you were expecting. Then the drilling. More of what you did not expect.

I experienced helplessness, lack of control, and lots of confusion. What’s a health coach/regular middle-aged woman to do? And what lessons would I have for clients, friends and family?

1. You’re the consumer. You DO have the right to know what to expect and how you’ll handle it. So ask questions. If you come to an appointment and you’re not given clear instructions about what will happen, ask. Ask for every detail you need.

2. Speak up. Even if you’re in the midst of a procedure and you feel like you’re untethered, say so. I acknowledge this is really hard in a dental setting.

3. Give feedback afterwards. Maybe your dentist has gotten complacent. Maybe the hygienist was having an “off” day. Your feedback may mean that the next patient has a much better experience. (And I bet your chart gets updated to reflect your needs.)

Have you ever experienced something similar in a health or wellness space? What helped you get what you needed?

07/01/2025

It’s the day after The Machete Gardening Incident. Don’t worry: he’s fine now after a somewhat complicated visit to the ER. It was more blood than I’ve ever seen before. Apparently husbands taking care of weeds with machetes is not advisable. Anyway.

My feet are up on the coffee table for a minute of peace. Which is why I chose to write (for the first time in a very long time.) When you have truly shared household responsibilities, it’s a surprisingly tough transition into primary life and house caretaker mode and I intend to be good to myself for a few minutes.

This stress. Even when I’m not working in the formal space with those additional duties.

I’ve watered the excessive number of pots I plant every summer (and promise myself not to do it again each year.) I hand wash the dishes that need it. I do the vet visits and the prescription pickups and the stop at the convenience store for the “fridge cigarette” also known as Coke Zero. (Like a smoker, I only buy a few at a time so that I won’t binge.) I take out the trash and recycling - tasks that are decidedly NOT mine.

I think about friends who have less partnership in household responsibility and what it took for me to care for my small children while working like mad. I think about a future where I’m lucky enough to get to care for my parents if they need it. Or for potential grandchildren and their tired parents.

Finding small moments of peace can really make a difference. It’s the coffee my daughter brought home to me (yes, there is a caffeine issue to address here.) It’s the flowers I’m going to buy for my recovering husband. It’s lighting the candles and asking Google to play meditation music throughout the house. It’s saying no to unnecessary things that don’t serve me well or bring me joy or satisfaction.

Tell me how you best recharge when you’re caregiving and taking on more than is typical. Tell me what sort of peace you choose in overwhelm.

We’ve got this.

08/29/2024

So this is what an empty nest feels like.

It’s quiet. It rattles around with pride mixed with grief. It means rearranging schedules and filling some holes and sitting in others.

For today, it’s full of my garden and my love for my people far away. It’s full of dreams and chats with the present.

It’s the beginning of an uncharted journey, and I am so grateful to those who have “seen me.” Reached out for walks and talks and to ask how the house feels today.

It’s a new baby nest. I’m still gathering sticks and straws to make it just right for myself and my beloved and our community. And for when the nest fills again.

Tell me about your empty nest or your someday empty nest. I want to hear.

Amber is a life coach and yoga instructor focusing on transition and healing of all types. She’s co-parenting four amazing young adults and knows a lot about loss, love and hope.

11/27/2023

When you’ve been on a health journey, sometimes you have to pause and say, “LOOK WHAT I DID!”

I’ve been building a stronger, healthier temple for most of 2023, and want to remind anyone who wants to do the same that you can do this.

We deserve it.

Go, Me.

08/07/2023

Couldn’t agree more.

Bonus: you’ll feel better, too. 💕

07/02/2023

💕

05/26/2023

Yup. I see you.

04/22/2023

Happy Earth Day.

May you treat yourself, your home, and our collective home with all of the love we all deserve.

04/05/2023

Like these tulips, I can *feel* Spring. I can feel the newness. The light. The growth.

Wishing you these things as you navigate today.

💕

02/22/2023

I’ve been working a lot on ways to soothe my nervous system. It’s easily triggered into fight or flight.

What are some of the ways you soothe an amped up system so you can show up as your best self in hard situations?

02/19/2023

Power.

02/10/2023

A dear friend gave this to me for my birthday.

May the message also be useful to you!