Happiness & Health Care are Sexy

My husband and I have an happiness agreement. We each need to do whatever necessary as individuals to be happy. My husband works long hours and I miss him. I tell him, "Do what you must do during the day, and then come home happy." Happiness is sexy.

This way, we bring our best selves for our time together. Also, since we show up serene, there is no reason to rely on the other person to make you happy, which has never worked for us.

If one of us is unhappy over an extended period of time, the other asks, "What do you need to do to be happy? Can I help?" We trust each other to figure it out and ask for help when necessary, knowing that when we ask, help will be there.

My husband has the privilege making a living with his passion and it shows. Getting paid for what you would do for free anyway rocks. And it is sexy.

However, there is a shadow. We were married in June of 2001 and by November 2001, he was laid off. When the economy goes south, the creatives are the first to go, even if they are gifted. It's just what happens. It's the economy, stupid.

Here's the thing, companies still need identity, logos, ad campaigns and websites so the creatives are always hired back, but as freelancers.

My husband would be happy doing freelance work, after all, it's the same work. But we have a problem. Freelance means no medical insurance. Yes, plans can be purchased, but I have a chronic illness. No one would provide me with a plan that we could afford. Thus, my husband has had to limit some of his career choices because we have to have medical insurance.

If we had universal health care in this country, he could do exactly what he wants to do. His business would sink or swim, but we wouldn't go broke because of a medical catastrophe or the medical appointments that I need to keep my illness in check.

I have a theory that if medical care was universally provided that entrepreneurs and small business owners would be set free to do what they do best. This would be true liberty. People could apply their creativity to unknown areas and create new as yet unknown facets to our economy.

People with families, especially women, could start small businesses because they wouldn't have to worry about how they were going to get through cold and flu season.

Business owners could hire workers to grow their companies.

The fear is that the care wouldn't be as good. A sick person would have to wait 3-4 months to get an appointment.

I have news. Over the last few months, I made appointments with 4 new providers. I waited 3 months for every one.

None of these providers accepted my primary insurance. If I didn't have secondary coverage, I would have been out of luck. One of my doctors is from Germany. He told me that he patients can't pursue the recommended treatments because even folks who have insurance have high out-of-pocket costs for durable goods. "In Germany, we do not deal with this," he said.

With the economy as it is today, more and more folks will be laid off and hired as freelance with no benefits. The creatives are the canaries in the cave.

I believe health care is a human right, like clean water. When we all have it, we all have more liberty to pursue happiness, and that is sexy.

Everything I Needed to Know About Scraping a House, I Learned at the Nail Salon

I have never scraped a house, but I didn't think I was going to like it. I was in charge of scraping 50 years of old paint from the cedar shake siding and cement blocks from our two bedroom bungalow with a walk-out basement. At first, I figured this job would probably be a demoralizing waste of several weekends.

Then I thought, it could also be an opportunity to offer my work as a gift to my creator much like the ceaseless prayer of the ancient monks. I set my intention to infuse each scrape with all the love that I could muster. I gave myself over to the scraping.

Turns out, I am a natural. I was able to penetrate through the decades right down to the bare brick.

As I scraped in silence, I asked myself, How is it that I intuitively know how to scrape like a pro? Was I a painter in a past life?

No. Well, maybe, but I don't remember.

I mindfully observed myself expertly shimmy my scraper into a subtle crevice - with the same delicate aggression that the nail technician applies to a beautiful hand.

At once I knew the truth, I have been trained by the nation's most gifted scrapers.

I have sat before the hands of the masters all over these United States. These capable women have stripped the old, dead acrylic from my fingertips and returned to me ten gleaming jewels.

I have sat in awe as chips of red acrylic flew through the air with each fearless flick of a virtuoso's wrist. They each had a sixth sense as to where the acrylic was not adhered to the my own nail, attacking the weakness as if in trance. One tech worked in such ecstasy that she didn't even realize that one of the nail bits had caught on her lower lip.

And so it was with me. I scraped for 14 hours over the first weekend. I never got tired. I never got bored. I never complained. It was as if I was scraping on the wings of the angels.

As a mother, I almost never get to focus on one thing at a time. Multitasking is a serenity buster. Thus, moms never get to enjoy a sense of accomplishment. We're always on to the next project. With my kid at grandma's, I made significant progress on a major goal.

I no longer have those perfect acrylic nails. They gladly went bye-bye in favor of organic baby food and diapers.

I admit, I have felt embarrassed that I spent at least a couple grand over the years that ended up on the floor of the salon, like spent peanut shells after the baseball game. However, I now understand that I was investing in my education, to prepare for my future home.