In honor of my beloved dad

Leonard Trank

October 22, 1911 - October 19, 2008

This essay originated as a post on this blog and today, I received it in print, published in the University of Denver Magazine, Fall 2010.  Please read, share and enjoy:

"What We Wear in This Life," dedicated to my father, Leonard Trank

Our Real Cost of Health Care

Like most Americans, and all parents, I've been keeping close tabs on the fight for health care reform. Every night, I tune into my MSNBC trio: Keith, Rachel and Chris. I rely on them to distill and disdain and listen with care as they navigate these murky waters. With a vote on health care reform looking like it just might happen on Sunday, and just might pass, I had my own personal experience this week that drove the basic issue, accessible and affordable health care for as many people as possible, very close to home. 

Monday night our oldest began to complain about her ear hurting. She'd just come off a bug the week before, so I took a look at it and it looked red. I gave her a mild pain reliever, but it didn't work. An hour later, she was seriously uncomfortable. I called the after hours number for our insurance carrier, who took my number and had a night nurse call me. She suggested a different pain reliever, which I gave her and which worked. Our daughter fell asleep and I thought we were all right. 

At 12:30, she woke up in severe pain. It was too early to give her more pain relievers, so I called the after hours number back. This time the person on the other line advised us to head to the local ER. I gulped and thought about the hard to pay bills other trips to the ER had cost us. I asked the person the uncomfortable question about whether we were covered for this. She said yes, we were covered. My whole body relaxed. I called to my husband and asked him to warm up the car, bundled up our daughter and headed out into the early morning. 

We were treated quickly and very well by a caring ER staff, given some numbing ear drops and an antibiotic and we were back in bed by three in the morning. 

This could have been a very different picture. Our kids are covered on a plan through the state of Colorado for middle and lower income families called CHP+ which provides quality health insurance for uninsured children and pregnant women. The reality is that without this program we could not afford health insurance. My part-time job offers no benefits, nor does my husband's adjunct faculty position and with the ups and downs of our employment and financial status this past year, as well as working more than full time when you add up all the freelance work we do, making a monthly premium that would be over $1000, and that's with a high deductible, is just out of reach. 

A number of years ago when we were covered by a more traditional employee-based plan, I made a similar trip to the ER after one of the twins tripped and knocked her forehead on the stone fireplace mantel. Despite a good chunk of my paycheck getting taken out each twice a month, the cut in her forehead which didn't need stitches, but a $500 purple liquid bandaid. I let her keep it on an extra week just to get our money's worth. 

I'm extremely grateful for this program which allows accessible, respectful and affordable health care for our children. I'm also extremely aware of how different the other night could have gone, from the decision to not seek appropriate care because we're terrified of walking out with an outrageous bill, or dealing with the stress of the debt that would come from not having any other choice at 1:30 in the morning when your child is sick and needing medical attention.

The medicine has worked and our daughter's ear is feeling better. 

I don't want to imagine the alternative. Nor should anyone. 

Pass this damn bill and let's make this country a place where caring for one another is just what we do. Because we can. Because we must. 

As One Series Ends, Another Begins

30 days ago, I sat in the local Longmont Ice Pavilion and watched my three girls skate. While they skated, I read from Richard Russo's Bridge of Sighs and was deeply changed by what I read. So changed that I set out to write as honestly as I could for 30 days about where I am in my life and to explore the life or lives, I've dreamed about living, but which have not happened, or not happened to the full extent of my dreams.

I've come to the end of this particular project and am exceptionally grateful for the kindness and support and kinship I've experienced from friends and strangers. I've learned a huge amount about myself and through this process, I've gained a bit more understanding about how I got here and  few ideas as to how to make some significant changes.

One thing I've realized is the importance of a daily practice and I'm about to embark on a new and slightly more ambitious project, which I will be sharing on this blog. I'm hooked on the idea that a daily, simple practice can have significant changes and this past month has given me the experience and the support to take the jump into a new venture - drum roll, please -

One Dream A Month: Turning Dreams into Actions

Over the course of this year, I'll be going through the catalog of my dreams and taking them out of the closet, from under the mattress and unearthing them from wherever the dog buried them in the yard. I'll be choosing a few that I believe I can commit to and on a daily basis, I'm going to breathe some life into them. Day by day, I'm going to apply one action toward turning a clearly defined dream into active reality.

Some of the dreams will be simple, like learning to change the oil in the car. Others will be more ambitious. All of them will be based in three principles:

1. Mission-based purpose
2. Kindness
3. Creative

The first dream I'll be breathing life into for March's One Dream a Month is a new business venture based in my love for reading, children and history. That's all I'll say about it for now, except I'm very excited about taking it out of my head, where I've been burying it, and into the world.

Tomorrow will be spent creating some tools for One Dream a Month, which will include a new blog, as well as Facebook and Twitter pages, to help create a larger community around One Dream a Month, as well as a basic outline of how I'll proceed with each project.

This blog, "Boobies and Other Bodily Functions," will return to its original intent, which is to explore life as an older mother, or as my oldest likes to remind me - "the oldest mother at her school."

The day will also be spent gathering my various notes on my business dream and getting them into one location - this computer. I'll be sharing how that messy process unfolds, as well as how to find the One Dream  Month resources, in case you'd like to breathe some life into some dreams that have been deferred.

Hope you'll join me.

A Small Victory and One Piece of the Big Puzzle

This might seem really small, but the accomplishment of it has made a big difference. I successfully set and carried through on a weekly food budget for our family. I set the amount on Sunday, made the list, made the food plan for the week, organized the coupons and headed to the store with the girls, each with their own job of list carrier,  coupon holder and bargain finder. After I wrote the check for the food, I then wrote a check to myself for the amount we'd saved and I deposited it into a household savings account. I even made Jack pay me back for the amount he'd gone over, which he did with a certain amusement at my insistence that we adhere to the budget. We made it through the week and spent, almost to the penny, exactly what I set out to do and which included wine, chocolate and some really good meals.

A first step, one that has taken me a number of decades and the better part of this month to make happen. And which represents the most hopeful part of all of this because of its' smallness.

I've been described as a big person. Not in physicality, but in my energy. I think big, can usher in a big energetic wave that I recognize can be overwhelming to some, especially employers. I don't believe it's completely an issue of ego, but more how I feel about this life. How much I love this life and how much I want to live in and make the most of it for as long as I can.

So for me to do something as small as follow through on one week of our family's food budget, is no small thing. It is probably one of the biggest things I've done in a very long time, other than becoming a mother three times over.

The small victory of sticking to a modest weekly food budget that reflects our income and expenses is that I realized the bigness in a small and simple act in my own life. So often, the bigness of our world sets the bar for just how much we expect of ourselves in terms of out put, energy and accomplishments, when as Margaret Mead wrote:

"A small group of thoughtful people could change the world. Indeed, it's the only thing that ever has."

Our family is a small group of thoughtful people and I believe we can change the world. Our world, to begin with and hopefully, the larger world through the daily act of our living.

And the small act for my family that changed our world this week is that I proved we could set a limit and live within it. I taught my children that frugality is a positive way to live, as is planning and following through. They've watched their father and me go through this struggle, they've experienced the stress of it themselves in reduced activities, postponed necessary and wanted purchases, not to mention living with a high degree of stress. But as we rolled the shopping cart down the aisle and then they watched me write a check to our family, and the look on their faces when we figured out how much we'd save in one year if we put just this modest amount away every week, I knew I'd started a little revolution in our home. And in our life.

One small change showed up in the way of a shopping cart moving slowing down a grocery stores aisles.

Tomorrow morning, as I sip my coffee and read the paper, I'll cut the coupons and plan the meals. The grocery list is already made.

Dreams Into Actions

Normally, on Shabbat, I take a break from the computer. I unplug for a little more than 24 hours and try to bring that portion of myself, the self who is out there in the world, back to myself and my family. I've made an exception to this practice during this time of every day writing.

Shabbat is a time of renewal, punctuated by a deadline with the sunset, bringing the light inside, raising a glass of wine and breaking bread. A ritualized closing of the work-oriented week; a break from what Rabbi Zalman Schachter-Shalomi calls "commodity time." And quite honestly, I've never felt more intensely ingrained in commodity time, the time of money-making energy, or in the case of the past couple of months, sheer financial survival.

Each Friday morning, as I head off to work, I'm happy in the knowledge that when I see them again, Shabbat is close at hand. The furrow between my brows is just a little less indented because I know the permission for taking a break is almost here.

Each Friday night, I close my eyes and draw the light of the candles toward me. I hold my hands close to my face and feel the warmth and glow and recite a simple prayer. A prayer of thanks, of blessing our family, friends and the world. A prayer of peace.

Shabbat is also the one time during the week when I feel I have time to think about the life I'm, the life I'm creating for my kids and the kind of person I've become. Some Shabbats are a time of joy and relief. Others I find it incredibly difficult to leave the week behind and make the transition. But every week I try. 

Tonight, my Shabbat intention is to make the internal space so I can begin to seek out the dreams I want to turn into action. A committed set of actions that I will make visible and public, as I did with this series, on a monthly basis. 

My tendency is to rush and make a list, but instead, I'm going to slow down and think. Think about what are the dreams that are flowing below my surface that I want to bubble up and bring into this realm. Even as I begin to think about this, the dreams start talking to me and each one has a story to tell, but they all can't be told and I have to make some choices. One by one. One month at a time. 

March starts on Monday, which means that we're already into the third month of 2010. January was spent in a state of shock, but I'm close to the end of February and completing the first month of a dream turned into action. 

My goal for Shabbat is to get some rest and by sundown tomorrow, to have the next two months figured out. I'll have a few other things to discuss about this as well and hope that some folks reading this might want to join in. My hope is that by the end of this year, I'll have developed the discipline and experienced the satisfaction of returning the favor to a few of my dreams, which have kept me company below the surface all these years, and breathing some life into them.  

My dreams deserve it and so do I. And so do we all. 

I hope you'll be able to bring some light into your house with those you love and find the space you need. 

Good Shabbos. 

When All I Want is Sleep

I'm tired. Really tired. I've been pushing hard the past two weeks and I'm feeling it. Feeling it so much that I'm not sure I have anything to say, or write, except that I need to write about working hard. Working too hard.

A few years ago, I had the pleasure of helping to promote a wonderful film, "Peaceful Warrior," and an even deeper pleasure of being able to engage with Dan Millman, the author and visionary whose inspiring books, inspired the film. After the film project had finished, I contacted Dan regarding a professional matter, but really one that was based in my quest to continue doing work I find meaningful and with people dedicated to making positive change. I was seeking to change the way I work and how I work, which has always been at a high level of effort and energy and often exhausting.

Dan's message back to me was generous and authentic. He stressed doing work I love and working in a smarter, more efficient and gentler way. Seemed at the time like a pretty simple work methodology to follow, but four or five years later, I'm far from figuring it out.

Let me make something clear. I'm not interested in not working. I love to work, to have a purpose and take pride in the work I've committed myself to. What I'm interested in is finding a way to work better, to work in a way that makes a larger sense.

Did I lose track of the criteria I set for myself this past few weeks? I challenged myself to look at any job or project I would agree to take according to its' impact on my kids, my marriage, my health and my finances. The past two weeks have tested the criteria and I'm not sure of the answer. I know my finances have benefited from this time, which has taken a bit of stress off - a good thing for one' relationship. But my yoga practice is down and I've had much less time with my kids, including a small crisis today with my oldest. Thankfully, we have a wonderful support system and I know that I can't be there for every moment, good and bad, but it capped two weeks of feeling the pangs of separation.

One of the aspects of starting a new job or project is inevitably the period of trying oneself out, of fitting in, of trying on new clothes that may or may not fit. Today, I wasn't sure that the new set of clothes I put on two weeks ago now fit. It may be that I was too quick to buy the clothes without trying them on and making sure the fit was right, as well as not necessarily being my style of clothing.

Another realization that has come to me in my exhaustion is I'm a very adaptable person and while that is a good skill to develop, I need to reign that aspect of myself in because it can cause me to react instead of act.

Work smarter. Adapt less and create more. Get more sleep and spend time with myself and my family. Work is just one part of the picture I'm creating and I can't allow it to take over.

Time to get back to that criteria and really commit to holding up any new project to it. And to be willing to step back or away from anything that doesn't meet all four. Not one, not two, not three. All four.

I guess I needed to be reminded of that. Again, and as many times as it takes.

Good night, all. I'm going to sleep.

What My Dreams Have to Say

I came across a great quote today that I'd like to share:


"Some people dream of great accomplishments, while others stay awake and do them." - Anonymous


I've always been a great dreamer. Not when I'm sleeping, but when I'm wide awake. In fact, I like to talk my dreams out loud as I go about my day, mostly in the car on the way to and from work. With the ever present cell phone as part of our driving experience, I no longer get the looks I used to get, especially in warmer weather when the windows might be rolled down. My parents told me that when I was a little girl, they would hear me talking to myself, making up stories with me as the central character. 


My favorite place to talk my dreams out loud was New York City. I was right at home there, walking along busy avenues chatting to myself and never once did anyone ever look at me sideways. This was above the ground behavior only, never on the subway or a bus. Only once did I get caught and it was by my then partner, now husband, Jack. He'd been walking behind me a few steps without my knowing he was there and he noticed I was carrying on a conversation with myself. He caught up with me at a curb and asked me, "Do you always talk to yourself like this?" I answered yes. He shrugged his shoulders. He knows of my capacity for chattiness and accepted without question that sometimes, when there isn't anyone to talk to, that I'd just turn to myself. 


But what does my talking to myself have to do with the quote? A great deal. Most of what I talk to myself about has to do with things I want to happen. Like the house I briefly dreamed about last month. About any of the many jobs I've come close to getting. Mostly I talk to myself about dreams that are within my reach and step into a conversation with a part of myself that is already there. 


Some of the dreams have come true. Sadly, others have been talked away. 


But I also think there is something to my dream talking that might just be useful in moving away from the front end of the quote - some people dream of great accomplishment - and toward the daily actualization of the second part - while others stay awake and do them. And something that is missing. 


Listening. 


What I've come to realize is that I'm not listening to either part of myself I'm giving voice to, the dreamer and the dreamed. If I can begin to listen to what my dreamer self is saying, what dreams I'm talking out loud and perhaps start asking questions of both parts of that voice, instead of just posing possible situations that might happen, then that could be the way to continue this conversation with myself. 


If I listen to myself in this funny little dance I do with myself, the very act of listening will change the conversation. Instead of driving along within the alternate dream life I've created for myself commuting to and from my "real" life, if I begin to ask questions of myself, I'll actually have to come up with some answers. And answers mean action. 


Asking questions of myself will take me out of what has been a tendency to be present in my own life and will plant me squarely back into my life, my blessed and slightly messy life. Asking questions will force me to investigate the difference between a dream, a fantasy and just a temporary escape from my life. 


And just as I'm beginning to ask financial questions of myself, and expecting answers, I need to do the same with my dreams. I better spend some time thinking about the questions I want to ask of my dreams. 

I think I'll start with asking - are these dreams I speak out loud part of the under current I began to explore in this series 25 days ago - the turns in the other direction, the dreams left on the curb, the life I haven't lived? 

I believe this would be a very good place to start.