Happy New Year!  In the spirit of not spending more time than necessary in front of a screen, I'm going to get right to it with news and my annual new year's musing.  

As usual, the new schedule for my Panic-free Estate Planning Workshops is posted on my website.  Workshops are scheduled through the end of April, 2014.  After this set is complete, I won't have scheduled Workshops again until September, so act now.  Pick a date, sign up online, and get this good work done if you haven't already.    

If you happen to have a Revocable Trust in place, this is a great time to check in, especially with respect to trust funding - transferring ownership of your assets from your own name to the name of your Revocable Trust.  This can be a time-consuming task, I know, but you can break it up into manageable amounts of work.  Like so much in life, trust funding is not an all-or-nothing proposition.  Pick one account, and follow up with that.  Just start there.  If you have questions about what any of this means, or want my help, just call or email.

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Early in our relationship, my husband and I were young, broke, recently post-vegetarian, and beginning to find the great joy in making and eating good food together.  We mostly ate beyond our means; both of us worked in restaurants and had friends who cooked professionally.  At some point we began thinking of ourselves as "Opportunivores", eating that which we had the opportunity to eat and was either necessary or delicious.  It was clear that we had many more options for delicious food by not committing in advance to a particular eating philosophy.  If life gives you lamb chops . . . well, maybe you should just eat them, especially if someone else is serving them to you.

Its been a lasting moniker, being an Opportunivore, and has actually become one of my central philosophical tenets: to look at life by asking the question, "what about this moment presents a unique opportunity?"  It is a guiding principle when I travel, when I order at a restaurant, and when I make my family take a relatively small detour for something I think will be stupendously amazing.  Lately, I've been thinking about an Opportunivorian approach to life as I wonder what is ahead this year.  The specifics of what might happen in 2014 are unknowable, but this seems like a good time to have ready the lens of opportunity, so we can hold it up to our minds' eyes and see the world through its filter.

All around us, life presents invitations to have an experience, make a decision, take an action that will make life (yours and/or others) better, richer, and more filled with love and happiness and good health, or one that is simply particular to the here-and-now.  You might change jobs or commit to a relationship or have the chance to travel with a food writer.  You might take it upon yourself to help or share or give back or give forward because you have the means.  You might let down your defenses and accept help because someone is offering.  You might end that job or relationship, or cancel those plans.  You might take a walk because your able body is an incredible gift.  You might look up from your iPhone and see cosmic arrows pointing the way.  You might eat that special something because you are at the spot for it.  You might get up early, get to yoga class, forgo a second coffee even though you want one, and make yourself fold your laundry because boy-oh-boy does it feel better when you do.  Or you might sit and read even though the sink is full of dirty dishes because that is health care, too, and no one is coming over for days anyway. 

As we look to the year ahead, remember, from time to time, to pick up that lens and look through it.  See the opportunities present and let that information guide you, or help you make your decision, or at least orient you in space.  There can be something very freeing, especially in retrospect, of letting life set its own course for you a bit.  Flowing like the seaweed and the river and the freight train hopper, you can move with life, which will rush and flow and keep rolling no matter what. 

Best wishes, Amy

As most of you are likely aware, two recent US Supreme Court decisions have altered the landscape of same-sex marriage, in California and nation-wide.  First, the decision in Windsor held that provisions of the Defense of Marriage Act ("DOMA") are unconstitutional, the result being that the Federal government can no longer refuse to recognize a same-sex marriage that is a legitimate marriage for State law purposes.  Second, the decision in Perry let stand a Federal District Court ruling (affirmed by the 9th Circuit Court of Appeals) holding that Proposition 8, which attempted to deny the right to marry to same-sex couples in California, is unconstitutional.   (Note: the links to these cases are links to Wikipedia articles about the cases, but you can find the original opinions through the Wikipedia articles or email me and I will send the opinions to you if you are interested in reading them!)

The important result of these decisions is this: same-sex couples can now (once again!) be legally married in California, and a huge number of Federal benefits (in the areas of income tax, gift and estate tax, social security, immigration, and on and on) that DOMA previously withheld from legally married, same-sex couples are now largely available to any married couple.  This is a huge event!

While certain things are clear, legally, there are still many questions.  As estate planners and members of the legal community we need to figure some things out, and wait for other things to be resolved.  And many of us are simply still overcoming our disbelief that we are seeing this day so soon.

The biggest questions exist with respect to multi-State issues (for example, you were married in a State where same-sex marriage is legal but live in a State where it is not) and how State and Federal treatment and benefits flow from those issues.  Some Federal benefits grant spouses certain rights based upon the laws of the State of marriage, and others look to the laws of the State of residence.  In addition, the Windsor decision did not rule on the provision of DOMA that gives a State the right to refuse to recognize the marriage of a same-sex couple even though that marriage was legal in the State in which it was performed.  Although same-sex married couples now have broadly recognized rights, there is not a Federal, constitutional guarantee of a right to marry the same-sex partner of your choosing.  For now, State-level activity - be it legislative, or a change in that state's constituion - recognizing only opposite-sex marriages has not been challenged across the board.  This means that there is still inconsistent treatment of married couples in this country.  It is also not clear how domestic partnerships and civil unions now exist in all of this.  I am doing a lot of reading and learning every day.

The New York Times published a handy chart on some of the multi-State issues that you can see here.  This chart is by no means definitive but it should orient you in space as you consider how the recent changes in law may impact you.

If you are a same-sex couple who is married and you've put together an estate plan, we should talk.   If you are same-sex couple considering marriage and want to understand how this may change your estate plan, we should talk.  There are ways to build flexibility into your plan with respect to estate taxes that have previously only been available to opposite-sex married couples.  You may want to revise your estate plan to avail yourselves (and your beneficiaries) of some of these tools, or you may just want to talk things through to understand what it will mean to you to get married.  Either way, call or email and we can figure out the pros, cons, and costs of what you can do. 

In recognition of the fact that 36 states do not grant marriage rights to same-sex couples, I will discount my fees by 36% for clients who are same-sex couples updating their plans to account for the changes in the law.  Hopefully, this will mark the beginning of the end of extra legal and accounting fees for same-sex couples.

This year my husband and I celebrate our 18th wedding anniversary.  As the officiant at our wedding so wisely said, "Marriage is one heavy trip."  Do not rush into it, or take its rights and responsibilities lightly.  I do highly recommend it, though, when you are ready; my marriage is one of the best things that has ever happened to me!  For us, the act of making vows in front of our community, and being recognized as a family by the powers that be, has strengthened our bond and our commitment to one another.  I am so happy and proud that in the State that I call home this experience is open to any couple who wants it.

With love and on the side of love,

Amy

Happy New Year, everyone!

I recently returned from spending a few days around Lake Tahoe, playing in the snow and visiting with old and new friends.  As a reformed east-coaster I tend to be fairly anti-snow, and in general I am anti-gear, so when my friends decided that we would all go up there for our annual gathering, my initial response (which I kept to myself) was kind of negative.  My first view of the snowy Sierra Nevada mountains produced a sudden mood shift; being up there and experiencing that winter beauty really was worth the drive and traffic and cumulative hours of putting on and taking off snow gear for myself and my kids.  Friends came from Italy, and their fresh look at the Tahoe area reminded me of its incredibly special combination of beauty, unspoiled ruggedness, and accessibility.  I'm thankful for the reminder, for the time to experience it, and for the opportunity to overcome my habits and preconceptions.  Not a bad way to start the year.

As always, this newsletter announces a new Panic-free Estate Planning Workshop schedule.  If a Will is on your new year's resolution list, this is the chance.  To register online, or for more information, go to:

http://www.amyshelf.com/workshops.html

This is also the link to share - if you are so inclined - with friends, school groups, and anyone that you think might need this work.  I'd certainly appreciate it! If you are a past workshop attendee, you may want to let others know how good it feels to get it done.

And before I get into my annual new year's musings, a few things about taxes:

I've spoken to many of you about the changes to the estate and gift tax regime that were scheduled to take effect January 1 of this year.  When Congress passed its fiscal cliff avoidance legislation at the 11th hour, certain aspects of the estate and gift tax laws were revised - or, rather, the changes that were set to go into effect were avoided by essentially making the 2012 law permanent.  You can read a summary discussion of these laws here (it is not my writing but why reinvent the wheel, right?)  A big bottom line is that the gift and estate tax exemption did not go down to $1 million but instead will stay at 2012's $5 million level, which is indexed for inflation and for 2013 is $5.25 million.  As a result, many of the more sophisticated estate planning techniques I've been discussing are not as critical for many of you.  Please call or email if you want to discuss any of this with me.

As 2012 came to a close and I began looking toward 2013, I found myself thinking about work.  Of course I was thinking about my own work, nothing short of strong sedatives can stop that when you are self-employed.  But in a larger sense, I was thinking about this whole notion of what we do with our lives, how we support and sustain ourselves and what adds or contributes value to us, our bank accounts and our community.

Driving this thinking was, undoubtedly, the decision that my husband and I made in September to close the beloved Four Star Video, which we owned, and expand our other store, Succulence.  I wrote a long and labored explanation of our thoughts and what we went through in deciding to close the store - you can read that here.  The bottom line, not surprisingly, is simply that the store was not sustainable.  Yet the lack of economic viability of the operation stood in stark contrast to the value to many of the store and of the experience of walking down the street to rent movies.  How could it be that something that is loved so dearly - and "so dearly" really doesn't begin to convey the awesomeness of Four Star Video or the magnitude of the feeling of loss for so many in the neighborhood - did not have a corresponding economic value?  How does that nexus work exactly?

Obviously this is a huge question, and the only thing that seems clear is that that nexus is shifting dramatically right now.  As the (former) owner of a video store, I have been in the thick of this shift for years and while I talk about it and try to make sense of it, I've concluded that we simply can't know or understand how it is all going to end up.

The aftermath of closing the video store and seeing my personal life reflect these larger changes in the world and contemplating the confusing nature of value in this modern world has been eye-opening as much as it has been unsettling and disappointing.  Value, in the economic sense, does not convey true worth.  And what of the people whose jobs and livelihoods are wrapped up in these obsolete industries? 

Somehow I keep coming back to what child-development pioneer Maria Montessori observed: "Play is the child's work." 

By this, Montessori meant that play is essential to the number one job of every child: the development and creation of self.  Giving play this moniker of "work" for Montessori was in part out of respect for the child who is engaged in this fundamental job of self-creation.  I've seen other ways we can learn a lot about ourselves and our needs from what we say about child-development.  Really, when you think about it, doesn't it make sense that it would work cumulatively?  Instead of seeing the various stages of emotional and psychological growth of children as milestones reached and then passed, a more accurate view is of child development as a series of lessons learned that we call upon every day.  For example: 'I am not the center of the universe,' or 'certain actions produce a reaction,' or 'my actions impact others.'  Indeed, often we spend our whole lives relearning these childhood lessons again and again.

With play, many say, the child experiences and experiments with new rules, imagines what might be instead of what is, and learns problem solving skills and to consider the needs of others. So far totally relevant to leading a fulfilled adult life, right?   So maybe, I've been wondering, does Montessori's observation somehow go in the other direction?  If play is the child's work, then is work the adult's play?   Or, rather, is our own adult work something that should be treated as equally essential to the ongoing development and creation of self?

Of course at this point, "work" can't simply mean what we do for money.  Most of us have to earn money to live, and for many of us the realities of our lives do constrain us and force us to compromise what we want to do with our time and to instead accept what we have to do, sometimes greatly. 

Montessori herself described work (generally, not just with respect to children) as "purposeful activity" and identified it as universal, innate, and essential to how we interact with and create the world around us.  In other words: finding something to do, something that has a goal or objective, orients you in space and helps you know who you are. Gratifying work, be it a job or hobby or raising your children or the combination of it all, engages us, connects us and defines us.  For most of my life, I haven't really questioned that my job-work should be my life's work.  But my life has never accommodated that level of singularity, and, really, I don't think that is the way the world operates anymore for most people.  I've begun, instead, to see my whole life as a body of work - the disparate pieces of travel and projects and jobs and homes and community, coming together to form this increasingly complete and whole self.  Seeing these non-job pieces as my "work" takes some pressure off of my job to be the be as gratifying as I want my life to be.  It reminds me of how critical the other components are to my happiness and well-being.  While I still must fit things in between my hours at the office, I feel a slipping away of the internal hierarchy of what makes money and what doesn't.

Regardless of whether your job is your life's calling, or you are stuck in something soul-sucking, you are a stay at home parent, or you have been looking for a job for months, there is work to be done.  There are roads to be built and rebuilt, babies to be tended, dust to be swept, laughter to be laughed, food to be cooked, fires to be built, fun to be had, sick to be healed, packages to be delivered, food to be served, music to be made, waves to be surfed, trees to be pruned, problems to be solved.  And so on.  This is all work.

I wish for all of you good work in 2013.  I hope you can find (or see right before you) your combination of purpose and activity that lets you know who you are, where you are, and how you fit in.  This work is essential to the ongoing development and creation of self, which, from my perspective, is a life-long activity.

Hello friendly faces,

It has been quite a whirlwind around here.  My daughter graduated from preschool!  My first-born celebrated his 9th birthday!  I turned 40!  My family and I have enjoyed such a bounty of loving family and friends, of good health and good weather, and of incredible community.  I barely have words to express my gratitude.

Having gotten through all of these big family and life events, it feels like summer is finally underway.  This weekend, my husband, Ken, and I are flying to Chicago for a wedding and mini-vacation.  Thanks to my mom, we are going without our kids; this will be the first time we've flown on an airplane together without them.  It is nerve-wracking!

I've updated our own estate plan in anticipation of this trip.  Having our documents in place and up-to-date does not remove the fearsomeness of air travel, but it does take the edge off. 

Knowing that many of you are facing similar travel worries, I've created a summer schedule of Panic-free Estate Planning Workshops.  The first one is on Saturday, June 26, at Recess Urban Recreation.   I know this date is fast-approaching, but there is still plenty of time to sign up and GET THIS DONE.  The Workshops are really that easy!  There's a bit of homework and thinking to do before hand, but mostly you simply need to show up and do it.  If you don't believe me, read my testimonials.

If you can't attend any of the dates this summer, in August I will be posting and circulating a schedule for the fall, so stay tuned.  If you've already attended a Workshop (or even if you haven't) and you know people who you think might be interested in these unusual and even enjoyable events, please forward this information along to them.

With tremendous gratitude and best wishes for a wonderful (and panic-free) summer, 

Amy

I'm not abandoning this here weblog - if I had my druthers I'd have the time to write daily, but I am also going to be writing at bloggulence - the official blog for succulence: life and garden.

Here's my first post.
http://www.thesucculence.com/2/post/2010/05/the-aftertaste.html

In a step fairly out of character, but one certainly motivated by a desire to mitigate the shame and hurt feelings suffered by our children at the hands of our anti-authoritarian and outsider tendencies, after dinner last night we cleared the table, pulled out the supplies and helped our kids make valentine's day cards for all of their classmates.

This was really Ken's doing.  The whole valentine's day cards issue had come up when I was hanging out with the kids a week ago.  Trudy, now officially and actually 5, had spent the day in school decorating a large envelope that would hang on the wall along with envelopes decorated by each of her classmates.  The envelopes are there to receive valentine's day cards.  There are official preschool rules about the holiday, and the wonderful, experienced people who run the school are clear that participation is not mandatory.  I always take those invitations way too literally, so often just don't participate in such events.  I'm frequently the one who really does not bring a birthday present when asked not to.  I'm also the one who responds honestly, though usually with what I consider to be constructive criticism, when a waiter asks, "How is everything?"  I hold people to their words - so if you tell me no presents, you better mean it.  Same for asking me what I think - you should really want to know.

Huck, my third grader, jumped in on the game, and stated that he wanted to make cards for all the kids in his class.  I think he's really interested in the candy that people are going to hand out (not us - see above).  I told the kids that this year they could not count on me for help with this one.  If they wanted to make valentine's day cards for everyone, they were going to have to motivate themselves.  I'm absurdly busy, and will remain that way until I fully integrate an assistant into my law practice.  Plus, we're getting a new business off the ground!  Double plus, my choir is singing NoisePop and I'm trying to rehearse.  Not to mention laundry, of course.   

Ken, bless his soul, responded with a determined affirmation a few days later when he was a part of a similar conversation with the kids: we will send our children to school with valentine's day cards for a collective 50 children.  We have to do right by them.

There are certain expectations of kids and parents that I really resent.  I'll supervise homework and make stupendous snacks and wash cars for fundraisers, but the holiday thing makes me batty.  My memory of the holiday celebrations of my childhood - at least when it came to how we celebrated them in school - is that it was all much more organic and much lower key.  I don't remember feeling a compulsion to do whatever for every kid in my class on each and every holiday.  My sense, looking back, is that some of us pulled it together for valentine's day while others of us managed to get some easter candy to distribute and then there were always folks left to do St. Patrick's day duty and bring in clover shaped butter cookies with green sugar on top. 

Of course, I wasn't the one who had to motivate or organize, so I'm sure -- I imagine -- all that holiday obligation stuff was fairly irritating to my parents too.  It might seem by now that I have some kind of holiday chip on my shoulder, and I do.  I love to celebrate and ritualize things.  I think birthdays are great - you really know why you are celebrating what you are celebrating.  The rest of it (it being all holidays) seems so overdone and, as a result, diluted.  The special food that used to only be available on such-and-such holiday, is now available year round.  The particular joyful experience of trick or treating and getting halloween candy seems corrupted - the quantity is beyond excessive and the quality of the experience suffers as a result.  In our country everything is available 24-7, and at this point there isn't anything you can't do, even on the most sacred of holidays, Christmas: Walgreens and Safeway are open for hours.  In particular, I hate the pressure my kids experience around holidays, and I hate the fact that often they have no connection to these holidays other than for the sugar or other loot.  Going through the motions is not in my skill set.

Ironically, and, ultimately, poetically, valentine's day is one of the few holidays for which I have an actual family tradition.  My family experience growing up was fundamentally safe and loving, but it was a bit fractured and distracted.  There were elements of tradition in many holidays, things we did from year to year: I made the mashed potatoes at thanksgiving from age 8 until probably 16 or so; we made latkes for hanukah; and when my dad and stepmother were together there was the cozy joy of christmas morning at their lovely house - lots of hot coffee and usually bacon and other rich morning treats that came after withstanding weird slow present opening where we all held back and pretended not to care that much.  Oh yeah, and then there was the dance around mother's day where my mom said she didn't really care about it but then ended up getting upset, always.  For a few years I really carried this tradition out with my own family until I discovered that the best thing to do on mother's day was to remove myself from society to the greatest possible extent.

Valentine's day was different.  For years my mom made epically wonderful cards for us.  Really the thing was the writing - often 24 lines or more of poetry proclaiming her love and appreciation for each of us and our unique qualities.  The poems, written usually on the newsprint favored by my mom, were surrounded by potato print hearts.  Even when I became an adult, my mom wrote these poems and made potato prints and sent them to me.  She even sent some to my husband in the first 5 or 6 years of our marriage.  Sometimes the poems were short and sweet, but there were always - ALWAYS - potato prints.  My mom didn't pull out the domestic whoop-ass very often but she killed it on valentine's day.

So here I am, irritated by holidays in general, irritated by holidays in school in particular, but being rallied by my equally overworked husband to help the kids make valentine's day cards.  Am I totally evil?  No!  I got behind it.  And I was able to get behind it precisely because of the valentine's day card tradition that I could really call upon: we'll make potato prints of course!  The one thing I can do with my kids that DOES actually mean something to me on this, another, absurdly commercialized holiday. 

As it often goes, my kids had other plans.  Huck had a vision of layered hearts glued together, so he and Ken started cutting and pasting.  Trudy enjoyed making potato prints for a while.  We made a few really nice heart-shaped potato printers despite the fact that I had used all but one of the potatoes to make soup for dinner - didn't really think that one through.  But then she wanted to do what her brother was doing (they did look pretty cool) and I was unable to talk her out of discontinuing to print with me.

Poetically, and ironically, while Trudy got involved with intricate drawings on two cards and spent a good deal of time talking Ken into cutting out lots of hearts for her so that she could do exactly what her big brother was doing, I ended up making 40 half-assed potato prints on a combination of cool joss paper I had and some blank index cards.

Hats off to Ken: the kids have valentine's day cards to distribute.  They will not be humiliated and feel left out of yet another holiday celebration. 

Also, it was quite nice sitting around the kitchen table doing an art project together, my bad attitude and Trudy's whining indecision notwithstanding.  The thing I most love about that kind of project time with my kids is the way conversation flows and they talk freely about the random thoughts that bubble up while you are working with your hands.

In the middle of it, Huck told us, "Today I said something that made people in my class think I wasn't that smart."   Puzzled (because Huck has a bit of a braniac reputation, complete with shirt chewing and other neurotic behaviors associated with the very intellectual) we asked him what he said.

"I told some kids in my class that God does not exist.  And then I told them that Jesus isn't the son of God, and Santa doesn't exist, and the Easter Bunny doesn't exist either."

Ken and I were now listening quite attentively. 

I don't know what they'd been talking about when Huck jumped in on the conversation, but when Huck the Heretic spoke up, the other kids pulled out all the stops, telling Huck he was wrong, presenting other proof of God's existence as they saw it, and finally asking Huck how can God NOT exist when God created HIM, Huckleberry Maceo Shelf.

For better or worse, Huck responded to his classmates by talking about evolution, not reproduction.  Not sure which would have made him and us less popular among his classmates and their parents, but that is how it rolled.   This is the point at which one kid told him that he was not actually smart, thus playing out the centuries old disrespectful dialogue between religious believers and practitioners of science.

Ken and I were laughing and cringing and proud and worried.  We talked about how religion and science are often at odds with one another, and even different religious beliefs conflict, although for the most part religious believers hold their truths to be true.  The fundamental message we tried to get across was the importance of treating others and their beliefs about the unknown with respect, even if they believe in something that seems patently ridiculous to you, and even if they are dissing you to your face. 

Huck seemed to grock this message, and, in the end, it turns out he DOES believe in God - or, technically, GODS - he's down with Zeus and the other Olympian deities. 

Really, I'm proud of my son for his ability to speak his mind and state his beliefs, even when he is up against a homogeneous group and in the minority.  That is one family tradition we've created, and, hopefully, one that our kids keep going when they have families of their own.