A Conversation with Janna Cawrse Esarey, Author of The Motion of the Ocean
Q: You deal with your depression in a very straightforward manner in this memoir. Was that deliberate? Have you always struggled with depression and do you continue to struggle with it? What would you recommend to readers who see parallels in their experiences of depression?
JCE: I wanted to be frank about my own experience with depression because when we keep things hush-hush, we endow them with much more power than they already have. That’s dangerous. My depression has visited me since high school—it drops in every now and then like an uninvited houseguest—but it doesn’t define me. I find that the best way to give it the boot is to talk about it to a friend or a loved one, or—if it sticks around for a while or keeps banging on the door—a professional. And, yes, I still deal with it. In fact, one of the many factors in our decision to end our voyage was an intense, albeit brief, bout of pre-baby blues in Hong Kong. That made me worry I might also have post-partum depression (thankfully, I didn’t). I didn’t mention all this in the epilogue because it felt like opening a huge can of worms. But, since you ask, there go the worms.
Q: You explored the question of what can and cannot be fulfilled by a marriage and one’s partner and determined that it is best for each partner to diversify how his or her needs are met. Has your thinking about this question changed or expanded the longer you have been married? What have you found among others who are married?
JCE:I still believe it’s true that we can’t expect any one person to meet all our needs. However, now that Graeme and I have been together longer, and especially since we’ve had children, I see that how and where we get our needs met is a very delicate balance. At times Graeme and I have worried that we’re getting too many needs met outside the relationship, and so we try to recalibrate and reconnect. We institute date night or red wine on the couch night or we read the entire Harry Potter series out loud to each other. We’re very intentional about reconnecting because some baseline of needs (beyond the obvious: sex) need to be fulfilled within the partnership. Otherwise it stops being a partnership.
And if I may make a slight tangent: I feel like this otherness/togetherness balance becomes even more crucial for parents. It’s so easy for moms, especially, to get needs for affection met by their kids, or to simply power through the day head-down because there’s just so much to do. Connecting with a partner can go by the wayside. But I know that one of the best gifts I can give my children is to stay deeply in love with their dad. Often this is accomplished by spending more time with him. Sometimes it’s accomplished by spending time with my girlfriends or time alone. I’ve realized that in order to be the best mom I can be, I have to stay connected to Graeme and stay in a healthy space myself—which, ironically, means taking regular time away from my children. It’s that whole otherness-to-promote-togetherness dance again. Paradoxical but, in my girlfriends’ and my experience, true.
Q: You pay close attention to how our own particular lenses give us a biased view of the world. How do you think this memoir would have been different had Graeme written it? What do you think would have been some of his central questions or concerns?
JCE:If Graeme had written this book, it would have been about the weather and the sea and anchoring and sailing tactics and the ninety-nine uses of 5200 (his favorite marine epoxy). He would have included insightful anecdotes about the places we visited—he’s a very good writer—and maybe a charming tale or two about love. But nothing about our relationship’s doldrums. Nada about sex. That said, Graeme did have veto power, so this is a certified, Graeme-approved book, even if it is nothing like the one he would have written.
Q: You discovered your purpose as a writer on this honeymoon voyage. How do you think your life would have been different had you not discovered your love for writing? Do you think your finding a purpose in life is in any way related to your notion of finding the One in love? Why or why not?
JCE:Several years before our trip, I told one of my oldest friends that I thought I might want to be a writer. I was really embarrassed telling her this because I thought it was such a ridiculous, impossible dream. My friend rolled her eyes and said, “Sheesh, Janna, you’ve always wanted to be a writer. Don’t you see that?” Of course, I had no idea. So I guess I feel like I was bound to discover and rediscover and ultimately pursue my love for writing eventually. It just took the right timing—sort of like Graeme and me. Thank goodness I rediscovered writing on the boat, though, because otherwise I think I would have struggled even more with my role afloat.
But your question implies something more significant, more fascinating, too—namely, is there some One calling out there for each of us? I don’t know. I’d like to think that everyone has something, many things actually, that makes them feel alive and useful and challenged and fulfilled. Writing does this for me in an intense, daily way, but other things ignite me too (teaching, making my daughters laugh, annual road trips with my mom). When it comes down to it, I think Graeme is right. We have to make our life the One we want every day, whether by pursuing a capital-P Purpose or by cultivating a certain attitude toward the little-p purposes that pepper our days. What’s that wonderful Annie Dillard saying?—“How we spend our days is of course how we spend our lives.”
Q: What were the challenges you encountered as you strove to tell your story? What did you leave out that you wished you could have included in the memoir?
JCE:In terms of actually getting the book written, the biggest challenge was the insane writing schedule—a chapter a week—while piecing together child care for a toddler. That took serious juggling. Also, I got the green-light to write this book literally the same week I conceived my second daughter, so I wrote my memoir while pregnant, which is a small miracle considering how a pregnant woman’s brain shrinks in inverse proportion to her belly growing (at least it feels that way). I delivered my book baby just a few weeks before I delivered my real baby, and then I was typing edits in between—and sometimes even during—nursing sessions. In fact, my youngest is sitting on my lap, shaking and sucking a monkey rattle as I type this.
In terms of story, I found it very difficult to edit my life down to a single storyline. I mean, just think of the myriad things you do, think, feel, say, hear, and see on any given day. Your day is like a quilt square with a very busy pattern. And if you sew that together with another seven-hundred-some-odd crazy quilt squares, you’ve got the fabric from two years of life. So I had to extract a single, solitary thread, stretching diagonally from one corner of my quilt to the other, to have a story that was short and coherent enough for anyone besides my mom to read. Think of all that left-over fabric—days and months, ports and storms, best friends and entire countries—undulating out beyond that thread. It almost gives me a yucky-stomach feeling thinking of everything I had to leave out (e.g., Sorry, Central America, you didn’t make the cut). But I feel better when I remind myself that my book is a single thread from my life. It’s not my actual life.
Q: One of the most dramatic moments in the story is when you and Graeme choose to continue with the wedding and the honeymoon in spite of his mother’s cancer. Did you continue to struggle with this choice on the trip? What did it mean to you and Graeme for his mother to give you her blessing? What would you like your readers to understand about that choice?
JCE:First of all, my mother-in-law’s support meant the world to us—literally, because we got to go explore it. But she’ll probably laugh at the idea that she provided drama in our tale; she is the most undramatic, down-to-earth person I know. At the same time, she’s a huge dreamer and doer (like moving to Taiwan to teach English after her kids had flown the coop). For her—and, therefore, for us—abandoning big dreams was not an option. For one, she would have felt horribly if we’d changed our plans. And for two, she was looking forward to visiting us in Mexico just as much as we were looking forward to sailing there. Vickie’s cancer was a palpable reminder to live our dreams relentlessly.
Q: You introduced us to a whole community of cruisers, particularly women. Do you still maintain contact with the women you met on your voyage? What can you tell us about these sailing women and their approach to living such a unique life? What can they tell other women who are landlubbers?
JCE:Graeme and I keep in touch with cruising friends via email, and we’ve rendezvoused with some of them on land and at sea as well. Some are still sailing. Most are not. That’s the thing about big adventures; they don’t have to last forever, and when you return to your old life it’s with renewed vigor because it feels like much more of a choice.
My closest girlfriend from cruising (who doesn’t even appear in the book) is the perfect example. She was a high-powered businesswoman who was on the burn-out trail. One night, while watching Dawson’s Creek reruns, she saw that episode where Pace and Joey sail into the sunset. My friend thought, Hey! if they can do it, so can I. The next day she googled “sailboat crew” and signed on for a voyage across the Pacific. She ended up having a wonderful romance with the captain of the sailboat she was on. When my girlfriend returned, she easily found another job, which totally disproves the idea that stepping off the treadmill for a year or two means you won’t be able to get back on. In fact, I think she’d say that sabbaticalism makes for happier, more productive people. Makes me wonder what her next adventure will be…
Q: You have a pretty active life online as a blogger on “Happily Even After” for the Seattle Post-Intelligencer(http://blog.seattlepi.com/happilyevenafter). What have you gained from writing in such an environment where feedback is often immediate and potentially strident? What have been some of its challenges and benefits?
JCE:It’s no fun when people tell me how stupid and lame I am. That happens, and it stinks. Blogging is a also challenge for me because it’s supposed to be quick and short and off-the-cuff. I’m slow and long-winded and perfectionistic. And so blogging is good for me. It pushes me and my writing, and it definitely helped hone my voice for this book. But my favorite thing about blogging is how an authentic conversation can develop. I have readers who leave comments that are way more articulate—sometimes even longer—than the posts they’re responding to. These people have become virtual buddies, online think-mates, a web of people striving for balance and connection. I love and appreciate that.
Q: In your role as a writer, you seem to have zeroed in on the complexities of women’s lives as they strive to balance love, family, work, friends, and self. What continue to be the prevailing concerns for the women you encounter and the unique strategies they employ to stay grounded in their lives?
JCE: Now isn’t this the question? I mean, who doesn’t struggle with balance when we have so many important and competing priorities? And for me at least, just when I think I have a semblance of balance, life goes and changes on me.
One of my girlfriends says the real problem is that we women actually believe we can have it all—since that’s what we’ve been told—when really we can’t. So women try to be the perfect worker, wife, mother, daughter, sibling, neighbor, housekeeper, cook, hostess, friend, and lover—all while looking fabulous. In trying to do everything, and to perfection, we drive ourselves nuts and/or end up feeling like we’re doing nothing well enough. Men, in contrast, (according to my friend) cherry-pick a few roles and don’t throw their backs and psyches out trying to do them perfectly. I’d be curious to know what other women and men think about this theory.
As for me, being the dreamer I am, I’m loathe to admit I can’t have it all. But I have come to realize that I can’t have it all at the same time. So I suppose my strategy—and that of my girlfriends—is to prioritize what matters most to each of us at this stage in our lives, and then let a whole mess of stuff slide. For my part this means, among other things, that I don’t shower much, that our oh-shit drawer is now an entire oh-shit room, that our neighbors wheel our recycling bins in more often than not (for which I hereby publicly thank them), and that I don’t open my snail-mail or e-mail nearly as often as I should. Plus I don’t cook anymore—Graeme was always better at that anyway.
What keeps the women in my life grounded? That’s easy. Each other.
Q: What advice would you offer the reader who is inspired by The Motion of the Ocean to tackle his or her own big, hairy, audacious goal?
JCE:Take good notes! And tell me about your B-HAG on my website (www.byjanna.com). If you’re blogging about it, which by all means you should, leave a link so others can follow you on your journey.
Q: What is on deck for you and your family’s next big, hairy, audacious goal?
JCE: My personal B-HAG is to finish that novel I’ve had kicking around my brain for so long. Our family B-HAG is to go cruising again with two little girls as crew. And Graeme’s and my B-HAG is to make love last. Forever.
Interview with Janna Cawrse Esarey
