Valentine's Day Morning and Yellow Slips of Legal Paper - A love post to my beloved

Last night, just before we fell asleep, my eyes flew open.

"I forgot to get the girls' a Valentine's Day present."

Jack had one leg under the covers and took a deep breath. "Where should I go?" It was nearly midnight. "Walgreens...," I answered quietly. He sighed again and got dressed and headed out into the night. I fell asleep.

In the morning, just as I was waking up, three warm bodies appeared in our bed. "Happy Valentine's Day, Mama." I kissed their foreheads and we cuddled in bed, our normal Sunday morning routine. I kissed them again and rolled out from under the covers to have my coffee and as I came into the kitchen, I saw three heart decorated cups on the kitchen table. Inside each were small books of Valentine's temporary tattoos and chocolate cover, heart-shaped marshmallows. Tucked in there as well were small pieces of yellow legal paper with these words:

"Will you be my Valentine? You're ours forever. Love, Papa and Mama."

I sipped my coffee and smiled at this wonderful man I'm lucky to share this life with. Not only did he go out just minutes before collapsing from another ordinary exhausting day, but he managed to pick the perfect (and highly affordable) gifts, AND shared the giving of the gifts with me. Not to mention let me take the first, and strongest, cup of coffee.

The girls tumbled into the kitchen and they saw the cups on the table. Their eyes widened and their faces lit up with smiles. They each took out their yellow slips of paper and one by one, read the loving words, written in their father's unique handwriting, a script I've loved seeing on paper for 25 years. Then they took turns reading them out loud and flipping through their tattoo books. They all hugged their papa and within five minutes at least three different tattoos were on their cheeks, hands and arms. They clutched their gifts, hugged Jack again and then Julea said, "I'm keeping this piece of paper forever."

As parents, we often wonder what our children will remember, fearing that the not so good, times like we've had for the last few weeks, will overtake the good. But this morning, waking up to three toasty and delicious Valentines, and witnessing their deep love for their father, put that fear to rest. This morning also helped me remember that small gestures bring forth so much - a chocolate heart, stickers and a small piece of yellow paper and a Valentine's Day that will be remembered forever.

Happy Valentine's Day

Why I Love the Olympics

I know it's corny, but I love the Olympics. From the opening ceremony to the time the torch is extinguished, I'm transfixed. And I always cry when the parade of countries begins, especially the ones represented by one or two athletes. Throat chokes up and the tears just stream.

I remember, with horror, the tragedy unfolding at the 1972 Munich massacre. I was at summer camp and we waited, transfixed, as news of the hostage and then murder of the Israeli athletes, which occurred during our own mini-Olympics, known as the Maccabee Games. When I was in my 20s, the 1984 Olympics were held in Los Angeles. I got tickets for rowing, being held at Lake Casitas, where we'd vacationed when I was a child. I attended track and field and sat slack-jawed at the legendary Edwin Moses.

Why? Why do I love the Olympics? It's more than patriotism, because I don't really care about country of origin. 

I love the Olympics because beyond the obvious display of excellence, what has always amazed me is the single-minded attention to one thing and especially now, I'm drawn to this way of living. My sense is that most of the athletes could have excelled at any number of sports, and probably did, but at a certain point they had to make a choice and commit to that choice. 

I did that for a long time, a single-minded focus on one goal, so I understand that frame of mind, when a passion and a skill come together toward obtaining that one goal. In my case it was theater, although I never achieved the heights that many of the athletes I'm watching achieve. Just arriving at any Olympics game represents such a high level of achievement, a fact that I try to emphasize to my kids. I wince every time I hear these words: "Second place is just the first place loser." Blech. 

How do we measure success? For me, winning is more a state of mind than anything else. And these days, my idea of winning has changed from the broad stroke of fame and fortune to more modest ways:

• Waking up to freshly brewed coffee that is really strong
• My kids getting up in the morning all in a good mood and all wanting the same thing for breakfast
• Finding a matching pair of earrings
• More than a quarter of a tank of gas in the car
• Locating the top to my car coffee mug
• Having enough hot water for four showers before 7:30 a.m.

Get the point? I'm starting to. 

In my life, as well as in the life of so many parents, every day is an Olympic achievement. Just getting out the door each morning ready for our days feels like a slick ride down the slalom run. At school drop off I kiss the kids good-bye, wish them a great day and say a little prayer that we made it to 8:20 a.m. in tact and with  positive energy. And every afternoon when I gather them up, we breathe a collective sigh of relief at our little family unit team making it through it in our separate ways and so happy to reconnect for what is left of the day. 

I celebrate the Olympics because they represent an ideal how many people from different places around the world can  join together for 16 days with the common goals of peace and excellence. They stand for the heights we can achieve and it's great to be reminded of what we can attain, like great music, art and literature. But for most of us mere mortals, as well as for the Olympiads when they retire and must find another way to live their lives, learning to bless the daily successes is equally important. 

All of these little ways of winning add up to equal a great day, or at least one that is a bit easier than others. If I can add in doing work that has meaning, heart-felt communication between myself and those I love, as well as those I cross paths with, then I'm ready to take my spot on any one of those podiums and drape that gold, silver or bronze medal around my neck. 

And you know what? Take a string of those great days and you know what you have? Your life.

Our Friends In Need Live Right Next Door

I've written before about how much simple kindnesses can make the difference when you're struggling. Today, I'm sending out big waves of kindness energy to encourage everyone to reach out to someone who is hurting, in one way or another. I'm talking about in your own neighborhood, your group of Facebook friends, your work colleagues, your family. There's not a day that goes by where I'm not hearing about someone in my immediate community needs help, support or a kind word. And as we enter Valentine's Day, we express big gestures of love with flowers, jewelry, or my personal favorite, chocolate.

At my kids' school, like many schools, there's a firm policy and one we could all learn from. Every child in every class gives and gets each other Valentines. We're given a class list and while there might be grumbling about having to write out 26 names, when the day comes for the giving out and getting, no one is excluded or left to the chance of who is friends with who on any given day. Regardless of whether they are all friends, they all extend a bit of kindness to one another. The universal smiles on all the faces as they came out of school, as well as the pleasure in reading each card to me after school, is proof that they feel that little bit of kindness that adds up to one big and good feeling.

I've been touched over the last two weeks, as I've shared my personal story of facing my financial demons, with the acts of kindness, support and encouragement. These came in the form of a phone call, a warm cup of tea, an email or a job lead. We have so many and varied ways of reaching out to each other, there are no excuses for not spreading a little kindness in person and electronically.

I've also been disappointed by those close to me who have turned their eyes away from my situation, an act that hurts more than nasty comments anonymously posted on my blog. But I've had to extend kindness to those as well and hope that their disdain, or fear of my current set of circumstances, will enable them to learn more about their capacity to care, instead of ignore. Saying no is fine, but let the center of that no be filled with kindness.

We live in a time where we're faced with so much tragedy, close at home and far away. It's overwhelming. And while it is vital that we respond to the serious needs of those in far away places, it is just as important to focus on those really close at hand. I've known too many people, as I'm sure we all have, who have a strong sense of global kindness, but who don't bring that awareness to the people on their block, or even in their homes.

And I'd like to say a word to those who are in conflict with one another. Disagreements, no matter how large or small, are never an excuse for a lack of kindness. Especially if there are children involved. Take a deep adult breath and bring some kindness into the picture. You might get over the difficult patch, but your children will carry it forever and into their relationships, work and lives. Friendships go through all sorts of ups and downs, jobs end and marriages fall apart, but your ability to respond with kindness is what will prove you able to withstand these inevitable relational twists and turns.

We can't always fix the big picture. In fact, we rarely do. But we can ask ourselves if there is one part of that picture that we can help with. If a friend is unemployed, forward every job lead that comes your way. If a single parent is struggling to take care of her or his kids, send over a hot meal, offer to drop off some extra groceries or invite the kids out for a play date to the ice rink. If there's an older person living on your block, make a point to ask them if you can shovel the walk after a snow storm. If you've been able to help out a friend or family member in need and that need continues, which it often does, don't stop. Now is the time to see how you can give a little bit more, be it time, patience, friendship or a shoulder to cry on.

My dad set a high bar for me as a child. He helped those he could in whatever ways he was able, with very little expectation of what we now refer to as our personal return on investment or ROI. He did it because he knew what it was to be without, alone and hungry. He knew what it was like to not be without his family, some who he was able to reunite with and some he never saw again. My dad might have disagreements with people, even with his brothers, or other family members, but he was always willing to work it out and always, regardless of any ill feelings, to help when they were in need. He did the same with his employees and plenty of strangers. And what he knew, he passed on to me. Share your kindness as you are able to, in whatever way you are able to do it.

Make the choice everyday to be kind, to those you love, like and especially to those you don't, even if it is only in your mind. It all adds up.

"Wherever there is a human being there is an opportunity for kindness." -- Seneca 

Good Shabbos.

Life as a Fire Hose and Tending to Two Gardens

I recently gave a talk on “Tweet, Friend and Connect: Social Media Trends in the Insurance Industry,” for the fine folks at Peak Performance Insurance Ski Conference 2010. I stayed at the Westin Riverfront Resort and Spa, a lush hotel in Avon, Colorado that was a dream in dark wood, stainless steel, marble bathroom with a huge glassed in shower, pristine white linens, and much to one of my daughter’s delight, two flat screen TVs.

Prior to my presentation, I listened to two really knowledgeable men, obvious experts in their areas of insurance. I studied their styles, one quite informal, stepping off the platform and walking the floor like a talk show host. The other fellow was not comfortable with presenting and was struggling with the altitude, but he found his humor and pace after admitting his fear and trepidation at public speaking. I was third in line and stood at the back of the room, something I like to do in order to get a sense of who is listening and those who are on their PDAs or netbooks.

As the conference host introduced me, I headed up to the podium and took a minute to look at the crowd. I asked them about who had a computer, a pda, internet access and put them at ease when I pretended to walk off stating, “all right, I guess I’ve done my job.” But when I stepped back behind the podium, a different energy level hit in. After 30 minutes, I had given them a great deal of specifically useful information and had achieved my goal of sparking their interest, despite a very healthy degree of cynicism. After all, these are insurance folks; they’re in the business of risk analysis, so I didn’t expect them to drink the social media punch in one gulp. I let them take little sips, challenging them to articulate to their customers, industry and colleagues why they weren’t participating. They nodded their heads and smiled. I was asked to stay for the panel and I finished with a great deal of satisfaction at a successful time.

But when I stepped into the elevator, I held the door for a gentleman. The doors closed and he said, “Wow, you were like a fire hose up there. A real fire hose.” I laughed and thanked him, saying it was a lot of information to pack into 30 minutes. I got off at my floor and had a good laugh when I got back to my temporary palace.

A fire hose? I’m not sure the gentleman meant it as a compliment or a criticism, but as I drove back home, it certainly got me thinking about my energy expenditure. I have an enormous amount of energy and always have struggled with the balance between expenditure and renewal. If being a fire hose means constantly putting out fires, then hell yes, that would be me. And of course, because I’m so focused on the state of my financial state, I’ve been thinking of this description as it relates to my relationship with money.

Am I a financial fire hose? Yes, I’d have to say, yes, that would be a good description. If a fire hose means either being turned on full force or shut off, yeah, I’ve done that back and forth between spending way too much and not spending at all. Sort of a binge and purge relationship money; I have it, I spend it. I don’t have it, I expend all my energy trying to get it.

Just like the weatherization process that is now allowing our 90% furnace to operate at its’ most efficient energy output, I need to review my fire hose tendency and see if there isn’t a more efficient way to expend my energy output. 

So how do I transform myself from fire hose to let’s say, a more sustainable drip irrigation system, where the water goes where it’s needed when it’s needed and in the right amounts and distributed evenly.

Granted, it’s been a particularly hard winter and spring is hinting at me around the corner. I’m itching to get my hands into the dirt. But the metaphor is a good one and appropriate to what I’m trying to do. By tilling the ground of my life, of my finances. To weed out the noxious plants, or the plants that didn’t make it through the winter. To take the time to plan my financial garden. If I turn on the hose with full force, I flood the new seeds and overwhelm the soil. If I ignore it, then I risk allowing the ground to dry up and to will have wasted my time, energy and money.

It’s the same thing with my financial garden. I’ve been sticking to my personal 21 Day Financial Fast and it’s been a good experience this week. I’ve only gone shopping for food twice, school supplies once and have cut down on our driving. We baked Valentine’s Day goodies for the girls’ classes and they chipped in their allowance for their much desired store bought cards. We created a fun meal plan and have even come up with a new way to cook ground turkey! I’ve identified the credit cards that need to be paid down and have a plan to begin that when our work situation gains more momentum, which I’m happy to say is happening.

But I need more help. I recognize that the fast is just a cleansing process, but like any fast, it’s way too easy to go back to the habits that brought about the fast in the first place. So I’m exploring what free financial education classes I can gain access to, one that doesn’t require me to pay for a suite of tools or sell anything, but one that will give me the real life tools to plant and tend to my financial garden just as it is – small.

This spring I’ll be planting two victory gardens, the humble vegetable and herb garden outside my kitchen window, and the financial one. Maybe if I can do this and channel my fire hose personality into a really effective and water conserving one, both gardens will grow as lush as it is in my dreams and intentions, and will be enough to care for my family.

Plugging Into My Life

Today started slowly. Really slowly. Or I should say that I started slowly within the day because I had to go on a 12 hour fast in preparation for my life insurance medical examination, which included having to go without my much beloved, and obviously addictive morning coffee. We have one of those programmable coffee makers that is set the night before, by my husband, with freshly ground coffee, by my husband and that allows me to stumble toward the coffee urn, pour my cup full and start my day. Not today.

Today, my kids woke up and kept out of my way, whispering “don’t forget, Mama can’t have any coffee this morning.” My beloved husband offered to go without his morning coffee, in a lovely gesture of support, and I snapped, literally snapped, at him saying that he had to have his coffee because one of us had to be functional.

The life insurance medical examiner arrived at 9:30. The coffee was already made, ready for me to glug down immediately following my blood being drawn. The nurse’s name was Kimberly, a single mother of three grown children, who also ran her own electrician’s business. I wondered, as she walked me through the paperwork and had me initial and sign my policy, if she was a relative of either Gary or Zump of our weatherization week. She shared the same kindness and ease of conversation that made me feel as if we’d known each other our entire lives. Must just be a Longmont kind of thing. 

We discussed our kids and got on the subject of a past post – financial education. Kimberly raised her kids on her own and told me she sat her three down on a regular basis and gave them full transparency to their household budget. She showed them their heating bills and challenged them to get creative about ways to cut it down, and when they did, even by $10 a month, they’d put the money in a household “mad money” fund. When the time came for them to buy a new computer, they did it in cash with their “mad money” house fund. Nice.

Next she told me about when her kids got to middle school, she allotted each a defined amount and put them in complete charge of buying their schools supplies, clothes, shoes and backpack and whatever they bought, it had to last until the winter break. When her son plunked down $90 for a pair of sneakers and then trashed them within two months, he had to make do with them until the end of the year and he never made that choice again, either to buy shoes out of his budget, or to treat them carelessly. Her daughters began to seek out the bargains and compare shop. Kimberly insisted they show her the receipts and would also have them show them their school money on a regular basis, to make sure that what they hadn’t spent on school items wasn’t being loaned or spent on other non-school things.

She said they were hard lessons for her kids to learn, but they are ones that have stayed with them well into their young adulthood. She spoke with pride about her youngest daughter, now in his first year of college, who manages the household budget for she and her two roommates, who have free spending reign from their parents, no job and who never have any money and who are obsessed with dating and eventually marrying men with money because they have no other way to continue the lifestyle they’ve grown accustomed to, but have no idea as to how to create for themselves.  Her daughter tells her roommates what a shame to just focus on money as a reason to get married, that if they’d only take responsibility for themselves financially, then they could experience and choose a life partner based on love.

All of this while two vials of blood are drawn, an EKG test and more papers being signed.

As the mother of three daughters, raising financially intelligent women is of great importance to me. And I know I’d feel the same way if I was raising boys. But for girls, to learn that they can make their own way, make their own informed financial decisions is critical. I was inspired by the common-sense and real life way Kimberly raised her kids, and especially her daughters, to be financially aware and figured it was just part of the larger symmetrical picture that she would be the medical examiner to arrive on my doorstep this morning. Her presence and her generosity in sharing her mothering experience is so appreciated and very timely.

I’ve resisted getting life insurance because I’ve seen it as an extra cost we can’t presently afford. But in the midst of this current financial crisis, my husband was researching lower cost car insurance options and while he was doing so, he handed the phone and insisted I talk with the agent about life insurance. It was on the top of his priority list for me, even if I hadn’t put in on my own.

I came across a stunning piece in today’s Denver Post in which the contributor was responding to being quoted by the paper as an eye witness to a recent small plane crash that took the lives of three local men. He writes with sparkling clarity about the everyday fear many of us live with toward the daily separations that take us away from our loved ones and how those small separations are often imagined as real deaths. He writes of lying in the cold winter night and imagining his life without his loved ones. He experienced this very human thought process while on a winter camping trip with his high school class. And in one of the strange twists of fate and timing, he and his class returned to their school just as the plane crash did occur, and very close to his home and waiting family. 

I thought of his fears as my blood was being drawn and Kimberly guided me mentally to go to my favorite quiet place. I imagined the writer sleeping in his snow cave and the quiet, bright winter night, thinking of his family and considering his and their mortality, as I lay on my den couch and listened to the humming of the EKG machine.

The morning passed with more than just my life insurance being processed, which I know is important and which I’m grateful to Jack for putting into motion. It was also about understanding that insuring my life is not just about a piece of paper or a policy, but a way we live and the way we raise our kids, with attention to the parts of our life we can help guide and which can help guide us through easy and hard times. 

After the exam was all done, Kimberly and I exchanged business cards and anytime I need my electrical system worked on, she’ll be the first I’ll call. If she has the same touch on wires and circuitry as she had with me, the house will be in good shape.  I know I am.

I did finally have that cup of coffee. It was hot, sweet and strong. And worth the wait. 

Day Ten and it is a Good Day

I'm taking a class on Jewish Leadership, a six week class being offered by the Chabad Jewish Center of Longmont and tonight's class pretty much blew me away. In the class, we're studying six figures in Jewish history, starting with Hillel and moving through quite a few people I've never heard of, despite a lifetime of study and engagement in my tradition. Hillel is well known to all, as are his examples of humility and equanimity, not to mention this quote: "If I am not for myself, who will be for me. And when I am for myself, what am 'I'? And if not now, when?" Despite this quote being so much of my growing up, attending Jewish summer camps, hearing these words now, at this time in my life, blew my mind. Hillel's personal history and struggle with the balance between humility and his own sense of his large capacity, is one that I can identify with in my own small way.

Tonight I learned about a man I'd never heard of before, Rabban Yochanan ben Zakai, a working man, who left the world of commerce to begin a lifelong devotion to study at the age of 40 and then appointed to take over from Hillel upon his death. It was suggested he was 55 when this responsibility was bestowed upon him and what did he do? He split town and headed to Galilee to take the Torah to farmers and laborers, not because he was shirking responsibility, but because he felt wanted to convey what he'd learned to the people, continuing Hillel's tradition of openness and accessibility. His sense of lineage, prophetic awareness and then the courage to act in unison with those two elements, struck me as very meaningful and in a very specific way.

Rabban Yochanan ben Zakai, like Hillel, and I suspect like the rest of the figures we'll be studying for the next month, share something I'd like to bring into my life and in particular, into this chapter. Both of them acted with a unity of purpose and action and with a remarkable lack of the 'personal.' And this is a very powerful reminder for me that no matter how personalized my situation might seem to be, to be able to pull back long enough to remember that my situation is just one of many, important, but not more so than the rest.

I'm chewing on this idea, that one could be so engaged in the living of a purposeful and mission-based life that pausing to reflect on my spiritual or personal progress would not be a part of the process, or at the very least, an after thought. Hmm...this flies in the face of two generations of self-focused pursuits, the time in which I've grown up and pursued my interests, whims and have informed my career choices.

Wonder what it would be like to flip the coin, but to still keep Hillel's words and Rabban Yochanan ben Zakai's prophetic awareness at the center? I think that is what I'm working toward.

---

Tonight is my tenth night of writing this series, "Water Flows Underground." Today is a good day and I'm grateful for the experience and the comments, as well as the lessons I'm learning. Heading to bed early tonight and taking a deep breath to move into day 11 and beyond.

Facing my Overdoing Demon

I may be sounding a bit psycho-babblish tonight, but let's be real. I'm exhausted. The past three weeks have been my own personal tsunami and I'm feeling the wear and tear of sleepless nights, tensed up days and way too much caffeine. All while continuing to function at my part-time job, as well as finishing up a contract project and continuously, and I mean continuously, looking for work.

I'm an overdoer - when I do, I overdo, or as is more commonly referred to - multi-task. For most of my life, my pendulum has swung, and pretty much stayed, on the overdoing side of things. And not just one state of overdoing. I've reached a high capacity of multiple overdoing and again, for most of my life, I've been able to get away from it.

Not any more. Problem is that one of the things I've realized about us chronic-multi-tasking overdoers is that we chronically neglect ourselves. At the core of my overdoing self is a state of the constant audition, but only getting as far as the first or second call back. The self-neglect is inevitable - if I'm doing for many others all at the same time, how can I possibly do for myself?

And just because I have the capacity to do many things at once doesn't have to translate into actually doing them. Just like with the budget we're working on for our household, if I don't prioritize which activity has the most importance and which of the others can support and strengthen the top one, then they all get the same level of attention, which is stretched too far and too thin -- again, like how I've been living financially.

I'm certainly not alone in my overdoing-ness. Every mother I know, and plenty of fathers, regardless of income level or background, are comrades in overdoing. It comes with the territory of the care and feeding of small beings, and from what I understand, it doesn't stop once they're all grown up.

Which brings me to tonight. Why tonight? Because tonight I finally went back to my yoga practice, after almost a week of not being able to pick myself off the floor and get my ass in the studio. And in the midst of coming into "awkward pose," I realized how important it was to stop. To just stop. The crisis is passing and what is left of it will be easier to handle with one simple step. Stop.

As I came out of the posture, the second part of this stopping became clear. It's not only to create a budget, but to create a budget with a clear intention, one with a higher purpose than relieving financial worries. A budget with a purpose. Call it faith-based, call it New Age-y, I don't really care. What I'm tapping into is realizing that unless our family budget is part of a larger picture, it is too easy to let it slip and slide.

As of tonight, day 9 of my 30 day "Water Flows Underground" series, I have given myself to permission to stop doing anything and everything that is not directly related to the following four things:

• My kids
• My marriage
• My health
• My finances

In other words, I'm going to transform myself from multi-tasking to unchartered territory (at least for me): mono-tasking. That means, I'm no longer available for all the extraneous activities that sap, confuse and distract me from focusing on the above, including things I thought I wanted to do before this recent tsunami hit our household. I'm ready to let those things go because I have to draw the line in the sand, or the snow. If something doesn't fit into the above, I'll be taking a good long look at whether it is worth doing. 

One of the aspects about chronic financial stress is that it impinges my ability to make good decisions, whether it is a rash purchase that was supposed to make me feel better, but instead only makes me more depressed. Or taking a job or a project purely for the money, without taking the time to see how it relates to the above four categories. 

As I continue to navigate the sticky swampy job market, I'll be bringing my own criteria to the table in deciding whether a job is worth pursuing or taking - is the job good for my kids, my marriage, my health and my finances. And the job can't be just good for one of those items, it has to be good for all of them. And if it isn't, then the opportunity will have to be placed on the other side of the line. 

The same thing goes for our budget. If something we've been spending money or thinking about spending money on isn't a yes to all four categories, then the answer will have to be no. A budget is a boundary that protects my family.

And this is where the psycho-babble comes in. This drawing the line in the snow or sand or mud, is all about the same thing: boundaries. I believe completely that the more I'm able to establish firm and loving boundaries within my life, with the people I love and in situations I find myself in, the more I'll be able to apply those boundaries financially. That's my goal.

If I say no to a committee I've been invited to join, or a board position with a worthwhile cause, or take a leave of absence from an activity I used to participate in, don't take it personally.

It's not you, it's me. It's just that I'm working on my budget. For life.