Why We Should Abolish Valentine’s Day: A Middleclass Manifesto

Do you really know anyone who likes Valentine’s day? Seriously, because I don’t. Maybe there’s some poor soul I have never met or will never meet .  I envision her as some crafty cock-eyed optimist living in Kansas who makes her own glittery greeting cards and just loves everything from Country music to Martha Stewart to collectible dolls.

Valentine’s Day is a scourge on this earth and causes more ill-will than love. Personally, I believe that Valentine’s Day was the actual cause of the Valentine’s Day massacre. From the moment we are innocent school children we are bombarded with the fear and dread associated with this made-up holiday. When I was young, V-Day cards were exchanged between classmates – not universally and democratically as they are done now, but as a popularity contest. At five years old you learned just how likable and attractive you were to your classmates by the amount (or lack of) of cards you received. This either led to 20 years of low self-esteem (if you received few or no cards) or 20 years of exaggerated self-importance and reliance on good looks (if you received many.) Neither is healthy, of course.

Nowadays, kids must bring cards for everyone in their class so no feelings are hurt. But what’s the message there: don’t trust an expression of affection because it’s probably forced. You’ll never really know who likes you and who doesn't.

Moving on to adult life…Valentine’s Day supposedly is meant to celebrate love, specifically romantic love (but that doesn't stop Hallmark from marketing V-Day trinkets and cards to grandparents and office mates.) The irony here is that if you are involved in a romantic love relationship, you don’t really need more celebration – having the romance alone is the prize.  And, if you don’t have that kind of love in your life at the moment, you wind up feeling like some misfit toy, depressed and unloved. Feh.

And for those single folks who think that couples are actually enjoying the day, think again. There’s way too much pressure to make it perfect – or at least better than your friends or that bitch who works down the hall and gets the 100 long-stem red roses and will be whisked off to a suite at the Mandarin Oriental, when you will be dining at Empire Szechuan.

And God forbid you are in a serious relationship but are not engaged. Oh Lordy! Even if you are not ready for such a commitment, there’s no way you won’t be wondering if he’s going to pop the question on this day of days. And if for some reason, you are able to push it out of your mind; your friends will surely pick up the ball and run with it.  I know of what I speak. I was with my dearest Steve for a year when V-Day 2006 rolled around. All my girlfriends were convinced I would get a proposal, when I knew full well that this was not Steve’s style. Even if he understood the so-called significance of the day, he wouldn't know what to do or he would've been sending signals for weeks. He’s just not a plan-it-all kind and keep it secret kind of guy. Nor is he one for cliché and convention. But this didn't matter. February 15^th I was forced to answer a barrage of hopefully inquisitive phone calls from well-meaning (I hope) friends. Double  Feh.

Then there are us married folks. I guess this is supposed to be the day when we stop our hurried lives and acknowledge the one with whom we've pledge to share our lives. Well, that’s pretty sad. I don’t care how many kids or meetings or business trips you have, if you are in love (as I am, by the way,) expressing your love and devotion should not happen on one specific day of the calendar – honestly it should be an everyday occurrence. I don’t mean that you have to take a page from some cheesy couples’ romance guide by greeting your mate at the door in a crimson negligee or a whipped cream bikini (what a waste of dessert topping!) I’m talking about actually showing the person you love that you love him or her by folding their shirts, or remembering their big meeting, or noticing their haircut, or rubbing their feet or just making eye contact while they’re telling you something important. Not to get too personal or sappy, but I try tell my husband how much I love him and hug him before we get out of bed just to start the day off right. I know that in a few hours – or minutes, depending on the day – I will be criticizing him for leaving dirty tissues on the counter or for forgetting to take his boots off when he comes back in from the morning dog walk.  

It’s so odd to me that we are being told that we should express our love through greeting cards, flowers, candy and jewelry. What do these things really have to do with love at all? They are pretty and ephemeral with no deep meaning. But they do cost a bunch of money – so that’s making Wall Street happy, right?

So how am I spending V-Day?  As I write this, my husband and I are in separate parts of Manhattan.  I am in our condo downtown and he is in the hospital room of a dying man.  About a week ago, an older man we know from our community took a bad fall and has been in an induced coma.  A few of our friends have been checking on him ever since. This poor guy has lived a tough and kind of checkered life and no one really knows if he has family or not. So when the doctors decided to pull the plug today, my husband and his buddy decided to be there for him as he leaves this world.

Honestly, it’s a fitting way for us to spend V-Day. It is a reminder to me of just one of the 842 reasons why I love my husband so much and how lucky I am to have found someone of such great compassion and character. You can keep your Godiva and keepsake lockets, I just want the opportunity to comfort him when he eventually comes home. That's a gift unparalleled value, as far as I am concerned.

And, one last thing,  if no one else tells you today that they love you, know that I do.

Seven Ways My Dog Changed My Life

Earlier this month I my husband and I celebrated the birth of our six year-old.  Our pride and joy, the apple of our eye…our border collie, Rollo.


We often call Rollo our furry baby and joke that we are a “mixed-species family.” I’m sure our attitude towards our beloved pup inspires a bit of ridicule from friends and family but we don’t care. We know we are nuts about the boy (as we call him) and we are ever grateful for how he’s changed our lives.


Throughout my life I have been no stranger to change. I chose to go from an enormous New York City public high school to a tiny, ivy-covered elitist liberal arts college. I spent a year studying in Eastern Europe before the wall came down. I’ve done crap loads of self-exploration, self-improvement and self-care. I’ve started and ended business and recently chucked a 25-year career to go back to school.  And I’ve probably had 14 different hair colors to boot.


But, one of the most drastic changes to my life (and 98 % for the better) came when we adopted our dog.  Seriously.  So, to honor his birthday and perhaps give a push to some of you out there ready to make the same life-altering move I offer you this list of Seven Ways My Dog Changed My Life:

#1  Rollo Killed the Hermit

Unless you have a little fluff ball of a dog that is content using a Wee Wee Pad, every dog parent knows that no matter the weather or how tired and sore you are, you are going out.  And, although at times I have cursed this fate – like during any storm, or middle-of-the-night emergencies, or his early morning phase – I know that overall, Rollo was able to banish our hermit tendencies for good. I am a couch potato who married a homebody. And left to our own devices, we’d spend every moment cuddled up watching a Breaking Bad Marathon. Rollo gets us out into the sunshine and into society. We experience life in all its facets, good, bad and oblivious on the streets of New York. We witness wildlife (mostly squirrels and pigeons, but also geese, ducks, sea gulls and some other more exotic faunae.) We watch our neighborhood change as new stores open and close – honestly, we have probably covered every square inch of real estate below Canal street from the Seaport to the Hudson.  And, we even have an adventure or two, like when Rollo and I got accidentally locked in a warehouse on Pier 40 or when we helped a drunk girl get into a cab safely.  No matter how exciting it is to watch Walter White’s escapades, it is much more satisfying to live our own.

#2 Rollo is my Personal Trainer

Exercise regimens come and go. In the past several years, I’ve belonged to NY Sports, I’ve taken yoga and I’ve bought myriad workout DVDs.  But no matter what I will always have my own furry personal trainer demanding I walk anywhere from 20 minutes to 2 hours a day.  So when I can’t find a new yoga instructor, I get bored of Zumba or Boot Camp, I know that I will never be without some exercise in my life and I am grateful for that – and so are my heart and lungs.

#3 Rollo is my Cruise Director

Just like the Love Boat’s Julie, Rollo conspires to introduce us to new and fascinating people all the time. Before Rollo came to live with us, we used to nod politely at our neighbor , Rita, whose door was a mere three feet from ours. That was the extent of the relationship after many years of sharing a narrow corridor. But after his arrival, he would bark loudly and excitedly whenever she arrived home and wouldn’t cease until we opened the door and greeted her. A simple hello (and a few licks) turned into small friendly chats, which turned into sharing my turkey chili when she came home very late and tired, which eventually metamorphosed into dinners at each other’s home and watching Downton Abbey and Top Chef together each week and accompanying each other to scary MRIs and emergency room visits – in other words – a true and loving friendship.  We also befriended the neighborhood dog walker who, despite the fact that she was born in the Congo, seems to be my long, lost sister (well in attitude anyway!) There are also countless neighbors, merchants and other Tribeca dog owners who know us (Rollo by name and me by association!) and are happy to see us in our travels. Rollo has turned a lonely, cold city into Mayberry for me.  

#4 Rollo Forced Me to Grow Up

Despite the fact, that I was in my mid-forties when we adopted Rollo, my general lack of responsibility (except for my job) kept me in a state of latent adolescence.  I could stay out all night if I wanted to, sleep all day, forget  to eat and not get dressed without any real consequences (well, on the weekend mostly.) Once we adopted this sweet, vulnerable creature all that changed. All of a sudden his life, his health and happiness were my and Steve’s responsibility (thank God I have a partner in this.) Within days I had to find a good vet and trainer, learn what food suited him have an ample stock at all times, keep his water bowl filled (heck, buy him a water bowl!) I had to educate myself on all things canine.  It was so stressful for me those first few weeks that I lost seven pounds! Now that I kind of have it down, I don’t stress as much but I am still responsible for his care and well-being. And that makes me a different kind of person. I am tethered, I am important and I am an adult. Sure, it means that I can’t jet off to Cozumel at the drop of a hat, but being Rollo’s Mommy (mocking can begin now) is a role that I am honored to play. It provides a new, deeper meaning to my life (aside from being Steve’s wife and Barb’s daughter etc.)

#5 Rollo is My Guru

Very few of us have the luxury of the kind of uninterrupted silence and calmness that allows us to have epiphanies and work out deep emotions. I do.  Often when Rollo and I are together, we find long stretches of New York pavement where we are alone (or at least in the company of a few intrepid joggers or other dog walkers.) It is in these blissful moments by the Hudson that my fevered brain can rest and my jumbled thoughts can dance before my subconscious and turn into good ideas. Sometimes I share these notions with Rollo. And although he can’t really speak, I often can gauge whether or not he approves.  Then there are the days when I am fostering a painful resentment or on the horns of a thorny dilemma.  I also confess my inner turmoil to Rollo who listens intently and without judgment. By the time we return home, I have found that most of my dark thoughts have dissipated. And it’s much cheaper than psychotherapy (believe me!)

#6 Rollo Taught Me Balance

Being the kind of overprotective doggie parents that we are, Steve and I bought a shelf’s worth of dog books in our first year with Rollo. What I took away from the many experts I read was that each dog needs three things to thrive: discipline, food and fun. And, over the years, I have found that the same rules apply to me, as well.  While Rollo is happiest when his walks and meals fall into a consistent routine I am also most content when I rise at the same time, take my exercise routinely and eat at normal intervals.  Rollo and I have invented a few games that he insists we play each day. In the morning he likes to be jump on the bed and be covered in our blankets, at which time I must ask nervously, “where’s Rollo?! Where’s Rollo?” Then he pokes his head out and we all laugh (repeat three times.) At night, after the last walk of the day, I must chase him back into the bedroom, jump on the bed with him facing the window and bark at the security guard at the Bank of America across Greenwich Street.  No matter how tired I am or how many times we performed this odd task, I laugh heartedly and am magically filled with renewed energy.  I am sure there were times before Rollo (B.R.) that I would go an entire day without laughing. Now, I’m sure that never happens. Never.  I laugh, I giggle and I make up songs about him on a daily basis.

#7 Rollo Keeps me in the Moment

When you have a lively, intense 65-pound animal at the end of a leash you have be aware and awake at all times. Especially, when this beloved beast has a propensity to lunge at skateboarders (and who can blame him?) I have developed a method to keep us (and others) safe as we walk the mean streets of lower Manhattan: I scan the horizon and then I look at our feet and what’s directly ahead and around us. I repeat this ritual a thousand times during our walks. If I see a wild child speeding along recklessly on his scooter a block away I cross the street. By looking down and around, I deftly avoid walking into to other dog’s poo or deep murky puddles. And, so,  we arrive home unscathed.  This method has helped me stay aware and awake in my own life as well. Each day I must look ahead and prepare for what’s coming, but I must also stay grounded and avoid the everyday pitfalls that can throw me off.  While I plan for my new business, I must also sweep the floor so I don’t track spilled chia seeds all over the apartment. 

A loving dog owner once remarked that, given the relatively short time dogs, live that as soon as we fall in love with them, we can hear the clock ticking. Although, I try to push aside this rather somber thought, what I take away is from that that every moment I have with him – and everyone I love, in fact – is precious and to be cherished. That keeps me in the moment and in gratitude.

So Happy Birthday Rollo, and thank you for sharing your life with all of us.  

Seven Ways My Dog Changed My Life

Earlier this month I my husband and I celebrated the birth of our six year-old.  Our pride and joy, the apple of our eye…our border collie, Rollo.

We often call Rollo our furry baby and joke that we are a “mixed-species family.” I’m sure our attitude towards our beloved pup inspires a bit of ridicule from friends and family but we don’t care. We know we are nuts about the boy (as we call him) and we are ever grateful for how he’s changed our lives.

Throughout my life I have been no stranger to change. I chose to go from an enormous New York City public high school to a tiny, ivy-covered elitist liberal arts college. I spent a year studying in Eastern Europe before the wall came down. I’ve done crap loads of self-exploration, self-improvement and self-care. I’ve started and ended business and recently chucked a 25-year career to go back to school.  And I’ve probably had 14 different hair colors to boot.

But, one of the most drastic changes to my life (and 98 % for the better) came when we adopted our dog.  Seriously.  So, to honor his birthday and perhaps give a push to some of you out there ready to make the same life-altering move I offer you this list of Seven Ways My Dog Changed My Life:

#1  Rollo Killed the Hermit

Unless you have a little fluff ball of a dog that is content using a Wee Wee Pad, every dog parent knows that no matter the weather or how tired and sore you are, you are going out.  And, although at times I have cursed this fate – like during any storm, or middle-of-the-night emergencies, or his early morning phase – I know that overall, Rollo was able to banish our hermit tendencies for good. I am a couch potato who married a homebody. And left to our own devices, we’d spend every moment cuddled up watching a Breaking Bad Marathon. Rollo gets us out into the sunshine and into society. We experience life in all its facets, good, bad and oblivious on the streets of New York. We witness wildlife (mostly squirrels and pigeons, but also geese, ducks, sea gulls and some other more exotic faunae.) We watch our neighborhood change as new stores open and close – honestly, we have probably covered every square inch of real estate below Canal street from the Seaport to the Hudson.  And, we even have an adventure or two, like when Rollo and I got accidentally locked in a warehouse on Pier 40 or when we helped a drunk girl get into a cab safely.  No matter how exciting it is to watch Walter White’s escapades, it is much more satisfying to live our own.

#2 Rollo is my Personal Trainer

Exercise regimens come and go. In the past several years, I’ve belonged to NY Sports, I’ve taken yoga and I’ve bought myriad workout DVDs.  But no matter what I will always have my own furry personal trainer demanding I walk anywhere from 20 minutes to 2 hours a day.  So when I can’t find a new yoga instructor, I get bored of Zumba or Boot Camp, I know that I will never be without some exercise in my life and I am grateful for that – and so are my heart and lungs.

#3 Rollo is my Cruise Director

Just like the Love Boat’s Julie, Rollo conspires to introduce us to new and fascinating people all the time. Before Rollo came to live with us, we used to nod politely at our neighbor , Rita, whose door was a mere three feet from ours. That was the extent of the relationship after many years of sharing a narrow corridor. But after his arrival, he would bark loudly and excitedly whenever she arrived home and wouldn’t cease until we opened the door and greeted her. A simple hello (and a few licks) turned into small friendly chats, which turned into sharing my turkey chili when she came home very late and tired, which eventually metamorphosed into dinners at each other’s home and watching Downton Abbey and Top Chef together each week and accompanying each other to scary MRIs and emergency room visits – in other words – a true and loving friendship.  We also befriended the neighborhood dog walker who, despite the fact that she was born in the Congo, seems to be my long, lost sister (well in attitude anyway!) There are also countless neighbors, merchants and other Tribeca dog owners who know us (Rollo by name and me by association!) and are happy to see us in our travels. Rollo has turned a lonely, cold city into Mayberry for me.  

#4 Rollo Forced Me to Grow Up

Despite the fact, that I was in my mid-forties when we adopted Rollo, my general lack of responsibility (except for my job) kept me in a state of latent adolescence.  I could stay out all night if I wanted to, sleep all day, forget  to eat and not get dressed without any real consequences (well, on the weekend mostly.) Once we adopted this sweet, vulnerable creature all that changed. All of a sudden his life, his health and happiness were my and Steve’s responsibility (thank God I have a partner in this.) Within days I had to find a good vet and trainer, learn what food suited him have an ample stock at all times, keep his water bowl filled (heck, buy him a water bowl!) I had to educate myself on all things canine.  It was so stressful for me those first few weeks that I lost seven pounds! Now that I kind of have it down, I don’t stress as much but I am still responsible for his care and well-being. And that makes me a different kind of person. I am tethered, I am important and I am an adult. Sure, it means that I can’t jet off to Cozumel at the drop of a hat, but being Rollo’s Mommy (mocking can begin now) is a role that I am honored to play. It provides a new, deeper meaning to my life (aside from being Steve’s wife and Barb’s daughter etc.)

#5 Rollo is My Guru

Very few of us have the luxury of the kind of uninterrupted silence and calmness that allows us to have epiphanies and work out deep emotions. I do.  Often when Rollo and I are together, we find long stretches of New York pavement where we are alone (or at least in the company of a few intrepid joggers or other dog walkers.) It is in these blissful moments by the Hudson that my fevered brain can rest and my jumbled thoughts can dance before my subconscious and turn into good ideas. Sometimes I share these notions with Rollo. And although he can’t really speak, I often can gauge whether or not he approves.  Then there are the days when I am fostering a painful resentment or on the horns of a thorny dilemma.  I also confess my inner turmoil to Rollo who listens intently and without judgment. By the time we return home, I have found that most of my dark thoughts have dissipated. And it’s much cheaper than psychotherapy (believe me!)

#6 Rollo Taught Me Balance

Being the kind of overprotective doggie parents that we are, Steve and I bought a shelf’s worth of dog books in our first year with Rollo. What I took away from the many experts I read was that each dog needs three things to thrive: discipline, food and fun. And, over the years, I have found that the same rules apply to me, as well.  While Rollo is happiest when his walks and meals fall into a consistent routine I am also most content when I rise at the same time, take my exercise routinely and eat at normal intervals.  Rollo and I have invented a few games that he insists we play each day. In the morning he likes to be jump on the bed and be covered in our blankets, at which time I must ask nervously, “where’s Rollo?! Where’s Rollo?” Then he pokes his head out and we all laugh (repeat three times.) At night, after the last walk of the day, I must chase him back into the bedroom, jump on the bed with him facing the window and bark at the security guard at the Bank of America across Greenwich Street.  No matter how tired I am or how many times we performed this odd task, I laugh heartedly and am magically filled with renewed energy.  I am sure there were times before Rollo (B.R.) that I would go an entire day without laughing. Now, I’m sure that never happens. Never.  I laugh, I giggle and I make up songs about him on a daily basis.

#7 Rollo Keeps me in the Moment

When you have a lively, intense 65-pound animal at the end of a leash you have be aware and awake at all times. Especially, when this beloved beast has a propensity to lunge at skateboarders (and who can blame him?) I have developed a method to keep us (and others) safe as we walk the mean streets of lower Manhattan: I scan the horizon and then I look at our feet and what’s directly ahead and around us. I repeat this ritual a thousand times during our walks. If I see a wild child speeding along recklessly on his scooter a block away I cross the street. By looking down and around, I deftly avoid walking into to other dog’s poo or deep murky puddles. And, so,  we arrive home unscathed.  This method has helped me stay aware and awake in my own life as well. Each day I must look ahead and prepare for what’s coming, but I must also stay grounded and avoid the everyday pitfalls that can throw me off.  While I plan for my new business, I must also sweep the floor so I don’t track spilled chia seeds all over the apartment. 

A loving dog owner once remarked that, given the relatively short time dogs, live that as soon as we fall in love with them, we can hear the clock ticking. Although, I try to push aside this rather somber thought, what I take away is from that that every moment I have with him – and everyone I love, in fact – is precious and to be cherished. That keeps me in the moment and in gratitude.

So Happy Birthday Rollo, and thank you for sharing your life with all of us.  

Resolve to Keep Your Resolutions – Six Easy Steps

We’ve all been there. December 31^st we pledge sincerely to give up sugar (or smoking or white lies or biting or nails…whatever) but somewhere around noon on January 2^nd we find ourselves chowing down gleefully on a cronut. Feeling weak and defeated, most of us decide to give up on our resolution entirely, and so another year goes by with our bad habits (and less than perfect health) intact.

That’s why lots of mental health experts, lifestyle gurus and the like caution folks not to make New Year’s resolutions. But I disagree. It’s not that I’m one to jump on the pop culture bandwagon and do whatever the rest of the world is doing – in fact, I often like to eschew so-called middle-American norms as a die-hard New Yorker – but as an aspiring health coach, I am a huge proponent of positive change and realize that the new year is a great jumping off point.

So, I am offering some very simple tips to help you avoid the pitfalls falling short of our resolutions and the subsequent feelings of failure and depression.

#1 Keep it Simple

I recently spent an evening with a lovely and intelligent “Type A” woman who delivered an impassioned monologue about everything that needed fixing in her life. At the end of it she took a deep breath and summarized, “so all I need to do is lose weight, start exercising, change jobs and stop smoking.” Oh, that’s all? You don’t want to add curing cancer or bringing peace to the Middle East to the list while you’re at it? Sure, our lives may seem like a mess sometimes, and it’s natural to want to clean it all up at once but that doesn’t work. Think about it, it’s impossible to clean all the rooms of your house at once; you have to pick a spot and move to another when you finish. Your life is no different.

So, when it comes to resolutions, pick one or two things maximum.  For example, I would advise the woman above to start walking 20 minutes a day. Most of us can do that, it’s easy: get off the subway a stop earlier; walk your errands on your lunch hour; take a stroll after dinner. Once you see that you can handle the 20-minute walk, you’ll want to do more. And, you’ll be surprised that once one part of your life comes more orderly or healthy you seem to have more energy, motivation and time to tackle the rest. But again, go slowly and methodically so as not to get overwhelmed and give up.

#2 Analyze Obstacles and Motivations

Let’s say you decide to take that 20-minute walk but Monday goes by, and then Tuesday and then Wednesday and you haven’t budged from your desk, and the only walking that has taken place is from the couch to the fridge. You tell yourself you’re tired, you’re busy and you’ll start next week. But this is actually a perfect time to really examine what’s going on.

For example, last summer I decided to start a meditation practice, but this decision lay on the shelf like that book on Churchill I keep meaning to read.  I gave myself a small goal of just 5 minutes so I couldn’t really blame my inability to start this new habit on a lack of time. I thought that privacy and quiet could be the issue, but even when I demanded my husband take a walk with the dog and leave me in peace it didn’t happen. I looked at all the changes I had made up until then (starting to exercise, eating better, etc.) and couldn’t figure out why I couldn’t make this relatively easy one happen. Then I realized that I knew that eating less and exercising would lead to weight loss (because I had done it before.) But, I had no real faith that meditation would help me with stress and clarity. I also realized that I loved the feeling of satisfaction that the ever decreasing numbers on the scale provided, but meditation offered no milestones or incentives like that. Then I found a wonderful meditation app that reminds you to meditate at the same time each day and keeps track of all the minutes and hours you spend each week in silent contemplation (or lack thereof really.) So I borrowed a bit of faith, downloaded the app and finally started a daily practice.

So dig deep and really try to figure out what your obstacles are. Do you fear it will not work? That you’ll be unhappy? Is there a childhood resistance attached (“my mom always made me”…fill in the blank.) Whatever the obstacle or missing motivation, try new ways to overcome it. One great way to do that is….

3 # Ask for Help

One of the most freeing statements in the world is “I don’t know.” The only way we begin to learn anything new is by admitting what we don’t know. So, if you don’t know how to begin a new diet, if you feel lonely walking alone, if you need accountability or support just ask for it. But be careful about who you ask. Unfortunately, many people close to us won’t – for various reasons – be as thrilled as we are about the changes we want to make. Fellow smokers might feel guilty if you quit. Drinking buddies will mourn your absence at the bar, and gourmand friends will continually try to entice you with bacon-wrapped anything. No one wants to feel guilty about continuing their less-than-healthy habits so don’t flaunt your efforts to change in their face. When I need motivation working out I don’t call my wonderful mother whose idea of exercise is watching QVC while vacuuming, I talk to my martial artist husband who works out even when we’re on vacation.  Having someone to provide encouragement and to whom you’re accountable more than doubles your chances at succeeding. If you think humans do well alone just watch Castaway or --  even better – The Shining!

#4 Learn how to Fail like a Champ

We’re all going to have our setbacks from time to time but it has been said that successful business people fail quickly, cheaply and only once.  In other words, they don’t invest a lot of time or money in risky ventures and they learn from their mistakes. What does that mean for your resolutions? Well, for one, when you’re just learning to cook healthy don’t go out and buy a $600 Vitamix in the first week. Or when you’re trying to get back into exercising don’t start by plunking down $200 a month to join Equinox. Because when your lack of motivation or other obstacles creep up and you feel like a failure that you haven’t made that lentil barley soup or made it to the gym in two weeks, you’ll feel even worse knowing how much cash you lost as well. Again, start simple, start slow and when you have an off day or week, just start your day or your week over again in that instant. Put failure in your rear view mirror as quickly as possible.

#5 Keep Changing

I, like most denizens of the 21^st Century, have the attention span of a coked-up bumble bee. When I started exercising at home (so as not to make the expensive mistake listed above) I bought the Zumba Gold set of 6 or 7 different DVDs. Brilliant. Just learning all the different steps and then getting accustomed to the different instructors etc. kept my mind as busy as my hips. But even with this variety I began to get bored after a few months. So I trolled the enormous range of workout offerings on Overstock.com and found a few more DVDs for kettlebell, boot camp and cardio interval training. Now I switch them up all the time and haven’t let boredom sink my routine. Furthermore, our bodies adjust to different workouts very quickly and you will no longer see dramatic results – which could also lead to quitting. So mix it up. If you’re dieting, learn a new healthy recipe each week. If you’re trying to quit smoking, try new ways to keep yourself occupied and so on.

#6 Be Kind to Yourself

So, what’s my New Year’s resolution you may ask? I posted it a few days ago: Judge less and accept more. And at a party on New Year’s day I found myself gossiping about a mutual friend and gloried in listing all his character defects. I came home, wondered why I had done it and felt like a jerk. But I took a deep breath, forgave myself and reasserted my intentions. After all, judging is so much part of my history that I’m sure a wagging finger is on our family crest. Change – especially really old behaviors – doesn’t happen overnight. And low self-esteem is often at the roots of many of our more destructive habits. Beating one’s self up isn’t going to help – it’s probably going to lead you right back to the bad habit. So be happy if you resist one gossip session, lose half a pound a week, smoke less than the day before and so on. It’s all going the right direction. None of us will ever become saints. It’s progress, not perfection.

Good luck with your resolutions and if you or anyone you know needs help achieving small changes, let me know if I can help!

Think globally, act kindly

Last night my usually rational and sophisticated mother was in a bit of a panic. She had been watching a television show on the History Channel about artificial intelligence in which several experts were convinced that computers and robots would become self-aware and eventually overthrow man by – get this – the year 2040.

By citing examples like the Y2K scare and the novel 1984, I assured her that most prognosticators of doom have been proved wrong. But more importantly, I spoke to her about something that I think we need to remember – especially at this time of year. When I start to worry about global climate change, underperforming antioxidants in my system or potential terrorist attacks in lower Manhattan I must remind myself that all I can control in life is my own behavior, and considering that I don’t always do such a stellar job with that, I should really focus on what I can change.

In fact, the reason I was speaking with my mother at all last night at 10 pm was to apologize to her for my bad behavior earlier in the day. I had freaked out about her grocery shopping for the Christmas meal that I was to cook. In Karen’s world, only the chef shops for her food, I mean I have certain standards! I continued to rant and complain even after I learned that my mother had purchased quality ingredients. Bad, bad Karen! Later when I was walking Rollo by the Hudson and breathing deeply, I realized how horrible I had been. I was agitated trying to please everyone, so I took it out on my poor mommy. Hence the post-dinner amend-making phone call.

That was something I could do to make the world a little better. Those who know my easy-going and loving mom know that she was not holding a grudge. But I do think it made her feel a bit more comforted to know how much I do love and appreciate her right before she sacked out.

I understand that my sphere of influence is rather trivial. I have a dozen or so friends that I see on a weekly basis, a tiny family, a bunch of neighbors, a handful of devoted blog readers and Facebook friends, a small community of fellow students, and absolutely no coworkers.  But I often like to think of the ripple effect that my behavior can initiate. So although, I’m not responsible for passing legislation or airlifting refugees out of Cambodia, maybe my actions can make a difference in the world.

Aside from acting kindly when I can, I have spoken boldly in this blog before about the importance of voting, publicly espousing my feminism, recycling and using natural products, etc. – these are my ways of acting locally but thinking globally. Sure, there’s a continent of plastic floating in the Pacific, but it sure as hell ain’t gone be my Poland Spring.

But sometimes I think I am the last of a dying breed. Not that I'm the only person trying to be kind -- thank god there are those much more generous, magnanimous and patient than I. No, I'm talking about a growing trend of taking care of #1 before seeing to the needs of others. For example, last night before I went to sleep I settled in with my copy of Real Simple and read one of my favorite features, the etiquette column. A reader wrote in and complained about an elderly neighbor who often appeared at her door bearing gifts of banana bread and the like. This nice old man had the audacity to try to engage her in lengthy chats over the threshold. This too busy graduate student couldn’t tolerate these intrusions because of other demands on her precious time. I thought that was kind of selfish and sleazy. But what outraged me more than her ingratitude and lack of patience was the fact that the etiquette columnist coached her on how to politely send this guy packing. Seriously? I reread it twice to make sure I wasn't confused. 

My feeling is that unless you are in fact airlifting refugees out of Cambodia then anything you are doing can wait ten or fifteen minutes to enrich the day of a senior citizen. I think that would be an even more significant accomplishment than any degree she could earn. And that should mean a lot considering that I am currently a busy student myself!

When I am nearing the end of my life, I don’t think I will look back in pride at the pages I read, the tests that I aced, or the papers I wrote. Instead I will remember the love. The love that I have received – albeit inconvenient at times – and the love I have given (sometimes begrudgingly.)

This is it friends. This is life, not a dress rehearsal. If we’re not kind and patient with the other humans around us then what is the point of life exactly. So when tempted to complain, nag, insult, brag, criticize, scoff, gossip or roll your eyes, just breathe and try to be kind. It may not cure cancer, but then again it might.

Merry Christmas and safe travels to all of you!

P.S. I am not renewing my subscription to Real Simple in 2014

The Shopping Fix

The other day in the middle of a rather fascinating conversation about news, politics and other worldly events I said to my friend, “I really feel like shopping.” He replied that he too felt the urge – and he never likes to shop unless it’s for food. We both blamed this pre-holiday retail advertising blitz and went on with our regularly scheduled programming, so to speak.

But, I find myself returning to this seemingly innocuous comment…”I feel like shopping.” Notice I didn’t say, “I need to buy pants,” or “I still have Christmas gifts to buy.” No, I said I feel like shopping the way I would have observed that I felt like eating or wanted to take a nap. But unlike being hungry or tired shopping doesn’t have a physiological state connected to it – or does it. So, I keep asking what made me “feel” like shopping? And what does “shopping” mean, exactly.

Well, I know what shopping should mean: we have a need for something and we go to a store or two to find the object that best fits that need and we purchase it. In my life, that description may only apply about 10% of the time when I go “shopping.” Think about it…of all the things we buy, how many do we really need? Maybe soap, toilet paper, light bulbs, toothpaste and dog food. Even human food is a gray area. I mean do I need pretzels or scallops or mushrooms? Can’t man live by bread alone? And speaking of bread, did I really need to buy the fancy loaf with pecans and raisins? Even when we go grocery shopping something other than our bare bones basic needs are coming into play. We want to satisfy something far more insidious than hunger.  We want treats, flavor, spice – we want food that will provide excitement and comfort in addition to (let’s hope) nutrition. So, perhaps that’s what we’re looking for when we “go shopping.”

I know that when I made this remark earlier in the week, I was still reeling from my Thanksgiving with family. Despite all my years of actual experience, I still have expectations of people showing up on time, being grateful, polite and patient, of things going the way I planned, of adolescent family members pitching in and so on. And when these expectations are dashed – as they always are – I feel defeated and depressed. Not to mention the fact that I ate chips and dip, cheesecake, gravy and a multitude of other foods that I have avoided in the past several months as part of my new healthier regimen. Although they were great in the moment, they also left me with bizarre cravings and a shallow sense of regret. I spent two days or recovering on my coach, isolating and taking comfort in doing nothing but watching TV and reading magazines.

Then came the shopping urge. It’s really not that surprising.  Just like eating, drinking alcohol or using drugs, shopping can provide that initial high that alleviates -- albeit temporarily -- those negative feelings. Furthermore, the act of shopping gives us an odd sense that we are somehow controlling our environment. Although I am powerless over the actions of my family or the crowds on the street, or the delayed subway train, but I do have the ability to buy that sparkly sweater and feel better for a bit. Well, until I look at my Visa statement a few weeks later.

Like any addiction, shopping has its consequences. Experts predict that Americans will spend more than $470 billion dollars on shopping this holiday season That’s a lot of money no matter how you look at it – in fact, it’s more than the GDP of many nations. And it's about half of what  Americans will give to charities in an entire year, (no judgment, of course.) When you think of what good could be accomplished with those funds it's staggering and shameful.

But perhaps more frighteningly, that $800 or more per family spent on Christmas gifts is more than most of us can afford. Sadly, many people choose to shop when their finances are in trouble in order to mask the fear surrounding debt. The act of shopping not only lifts our spirits (temporarily) but, because it flies in the face of reality, of their financial situation it provides a good healthy dose of denial. If they can plunk down their credit card and pick up that new X-Box or leather jacket, how can they actually be in trouble, right? The problem gets worse, and then oddly enough, they want to go out shopping.

The shopping addiction isn't just prevalent at Christmas, of course, it’s year round. But what makes Christmas shopping worse is that we’re given an extra license to indulge in spending money on stuff – in fact, there’s a cultural imperative to do so. Black Friday is now nearly as entrenched in our Thanksgiving traditions as is the poor old turkey and post-dinner bloat and lethargy. It’s now the American way.

So that makes me truly American. I do love to shop. I have an awareness of what it means, but I do it anyway. I make the joke that it’s in my blood and I have no choice. My parents met while both working and the now defunct but once renowned department store, B. Altman’s. My mother continued her career in retail and worked for Macy’s in Brooklyn for more than 20 years. She was always grateful for a job that enabled her to shop while she was working.

As someone who no longer has a steady income, I know that I should NOT be shopping for sport anymore. But I can always find a “reason”: my sister’s in town and that’s how we bond; I have no pants that fit me anymore since I lost weight; tis the season; I want to try that new intensive hair mask I read about in InStyle;  The truth is that my sister and I would be better off taking a nice long walk; I don’t have as many pants that fit me as I used to, but I do have enough pants; the season shouldn’t be about materialism but about friends, love and good spirits,;and I can make a hair mask out of the coconut oil I have in my pantry.

Trying to curb our shopping addiction will not come easy. We are bombarded by messages telling us to shop: television, emails, facebook, store windows, magazines and catalogs reach us everywhere we go. They convince us that we need when we really want; we are assured by merchants that these sales are actually saving us money; our credit card companies are more than happy to extend our limits; we are told we are doing our part for the economy; and our post-purchase endorphins provide a delicious but insidious fix that needs to be fed as soon as it dissipates.

So let me tell you what I’m going to do and maybe you’ll choose to join me. When I get that urge to “shop” I’m going to think it through and ask myself a few questions: why do I feel this way, what’s happening right now? If I’m in a store or about to click on an online retailer’s site I will ponder the question of need over want. I will take a thorough survey of my current wardrobe so I know what I really need, if anything. (And if you look at my messy closet it's pretty clear I don't need a thing!) And knowing that those endorphins can kick in even if I’m buying something for my husband, mom or dog, I will ask myself if those loved ones can get along without that new pair of gloves, tea kettle or chew toy respectively.

It’s not going to be easy but neither will my retirement if I keep buying new pants.

Merry Christmas to you all.

Lucky Me

Last week, while walking my beloved border collie, I found a slightly damp 10 dollar bill. My heart sang. I felt like jumping up and down for joy. It’s not like this ten was the difference between me eating and starving, nor was it my transit home or anything vital. But to me it represented good fortune. It made me feel as if the gods were smiling down on me.

So, I stuck that tenner in my pocket and skipped merrily home. Later that day, I took out the magical bill to buy a double espresso. I received eight dollars in change. Ooh, what else would I procure with this windfall? I thought. But when I reached into my pocket some three hours later I had only three dollars left. What happened to that five dollar bill? I will never know. Perhaps I never got correct change. Maybe it fell out of my pocket (damn you women’s wear designers for your cursed shallow pockets!) All I knew was that it was gone. And I went from feeling blessed and happy to feeling frustrated and doomed. Just like that.

Even at the time, I knew I was acting irrationally. My friends and loved ones urged me to look at the situation differently. “Hey, it's not like you lost $5, it's more like you found $5,” they said trying to sway me into a different attitude. Nope, I couldn’t do it.

My Dad circa 1976 -- who I miss, but am grateful for.

I am a glass half empty person, I guess and it’s very hard for me to see myself as lucky, fortunate or blessed. But the fact of the matter is that I am. Sure, I’ve been through some really rough stuff in my life. My childhood was no Disney tale. I struggled with some demons in my early adult life. I fell in love later in life and quickly learned I couldn’t give my soul mate the child he always dreamed of. I reunited with my father only to lose him a few short years later.

Yeah, pretty sad, but people have gone through lots worse and not fared as well as I have. The thing is self-pity often feels like a safe, warm haven for me. But it is actually a very dangerous place. It leads to harmful bad behavior like isolation, over-indulgence, resentments and depression. So this year, I choose not to go there.

So, as Thanksgiving is upon us, I have decided to honor the true spirit of the holiday and give thanks for the abundance of good fortune I have in my life.

My Health: Yup, I’ve got to start with a cliché because if I wasn’t alive I’d have nothing else on this list. But I also put it at the top because I am acutely aware of what good health feels like and how it has changed my life. A year ago at this time, I was still deeply in grief. My life centered on clearing out and cleaning up my late mother-in-law’s home – not a very cheery vocation. I was 33 pounds heavier. I couldn’t walk more than five steps without pain from plantar fasciitis. I didn’t sleep well. I had very little energy. Life seemed like a chore. When I made the decision to focus on my nutrition, exercise and meditate everything changed, and I mean everything! I don’t feel or look like the same person. I have boundless energy most days, no pain and lots of hope. I no longer focus on death, but think about all the things I want to do (like return to Acadia National Park -- where I climbed this freaking mountain!)

My Family: One of the great things about getting married late in life is that you really know that it’s the right person. My husband Steve is my best friend and the Yin to my Yang. He is patient, loving, supportive, kind and the most devoted doggy dad in the world. And all of you that know him have to agree on that, right? And you all know that our beloved Rollo is also like a furry baby to us – and one that we don’t have to save money for college tuition (or bail!) I thank God every day that my Mom is still healthy and happy. I love talking to her every day – even if she doesn’t always agree with me (and vice versa.) She still has one of the best senses of humor and her enthusiasm for all things British – especially Britcoms and tea – is still utterly charming. And despite a bit of drama now and then, I love and am proud of my sister , my niece and nephew and am grateful that they are in my life. I'm also lucky enough to have an amazing half sister and step mother in Maine who know where the bodies are buried and love me anyway.

My Friends: I have some friends that I have known for 42 years and some I have known for 4 months. I have friends who are half my age and friends who are old enough to be a parent. My friends are high powered lawyers, dog-walkers, teachers, entrepreneurs (read: unemployed people) retired cops and students. I appreciate their minds and hearts, their vast and varied experiences, and their company. At this age, my friends are not drinking buddies or wingmen; they are not just bridesmaids or travel companions. No, they are extended family, they are my support system.  Steve and I made the decision long ago to jettison what we refer to as “emotional vampires.”  We no longer make space for people who just want to suck the life out of us by dumping their problems with no interest in actually changing or helping others. So the friends we do see and spend time with love, nurture and amuse us – and only occasional frustrate us.  

My Home: Sure, I complain about my home. It ain’t easy fitting two people, a 60 lb dog and

everything they own in a one-bedroom apartment. Nor is it my life’s dream to share a bathroom with a man. But, having a safe, warm and lovely place to live is definitely nothing to take for granted – especially in Manhattan. My heart breaks for friends who get uprooted because of new construction or break ups etc. and find that they can no long afford even a room in Bushwick. And there are those moments when Rollo and I approach the Hudson River on a quiet day. We sniff the water, we feel the breeze. We watch the boats sail by and I think (I can’t say what he’s thinking) how lucky I am. I feel like I live in a vacation resort. And, I do. People come from every corner of the earth to walk the same streets I walk every day and for that I feel blessed.

Coffee: Besides the occasional shopping trip, this is my last remaining vice and I adore it with a nearly fanatical devotion. I got so excited when I learned about the new Nespresso boutique in Macy’s I could barely contain myself. The sales rep there gave me a free vanilla cappuccino because he said I the nicest customer he had all day. Of course I was. I was acting with utter reverence. I was in my holy place. Coffee doesn’t really fit in with my new nutritional outlook (especially when you add half and half as I do) but I think we all need our vices in order to be human – and as bad treats go, this is not as bad as some (eg see Mayor Tom Ford - or me circa 1995.)

Well those are the biggies. Sure, I am grateful for all the wonderful television shows about bridal gown shopping that provide delicious distractions from my school work and swiffering; and I cherish my favorite Mexican restaurant Mariachi’s (formerly Little Place); and don’t get me started on shoes and handbags. But I think writing about those things on this list would diminish the importance of friends, family, health and home.

But, I do want to add my deepest appreciation for everyone who reads this blog. I have always been grateful for my ability to write. And you all allow me to enjoy this “gift” and share it with others. So to all of you, I wish you a very happy Thanksgiving.

 

P.S. Thanks again, Rita for the gift of the 18 lb Turkey -- the other "real" meaning of Thanksgiving!