Author Archives: Amy Gage

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About Amy Gage

A community relations director in higher education and mother of two adult sons, Amy Gage spent the first 20 years of her career as a journalist and public speaker in St. Paul and Minneapolis, Minnesota. The issues addressed in her award-winning newspaper column, "On Balance: Issues That Affect Work and Home," remain relevant today. In "The Middle Stages," she continues the vital conversation about women's work and lives, with a focus on the challenges and contradictions of aging, the mixed blessings of forsaking family time for the more immediate rewards of a career, and how middle-aged women can continue to forge full lives even as their priorities and sensibilities change.

Thank God, February’s Over: Bring on Spring!

The longest shortest month of the year, February makes me wish time away — something  most of us cease doing at middle age.

We’ve had 26 sub-zero mornings in Minnesota so far this winter. February is among the slowest months for local businesses; people would rather be keeping company with their screens.

Native Minnesotans are supposed to take the icy sidewalks and bitterly cold temperatures in stride. But I’ve eaten too much. Gotten off my running routine. And been too distracted and stir-crazy even to finish reading a book.Penguins on ice

Enough. Spring starts in March, and I am holding myself to better habits, starting today:

1) Keep moving. I felt reborn the other day when I ran four miles along Mississippi River Boulevard with a friend I hadn’t seen in months. Yes, it was cold, but I know how to dress for winter running: layer your clothing, go lighter below the waist, wear a black Ninja hood to encase your head and neck.

The sun was shining. The conversation was lively. And I adopted her trick of thinking positive when the going got tough. Rather than “damn, this hill is steep” we’d exclaim to each other: “Look at the view!”

2) Gain perspective. The death of New York Times journalist David Carr on February 12 threw me, as it did many of his former colleagues. I knew Carr, barely, back in the roaring ’80s, when we both worked at MSP Communications. He chastised me once for wearing a campaign button in the newsroom. He swept through a party at my upper duplex in northeast Minneapolis, pronouncing that I had a “nice pad.”

I envied his self-confidence and single-minded ambition. I recognized his talent, even as I viewed it from a distance. I was never brave enough to travel in his pack.

Like others, I was shocked and saddened to read of his collapse. But I also personalized the news in a way that feels ungenerous, both to him and to myself. I didn’t think about the wife and daughters he left behind or his unfinished work in the world.

When I read about Carr’s globe-trotting career, the mark he made on his profession, and his canny ability both to overcome and capitalize on his addiction, I felt small by comparison. Just as I did back then. Only a year younger than he was when he died, I assessed my career and wondered what I have accomplished.

Weeks later — given time, perspective and a review of his candid, pragmatic interviews with Terry Gross on Fresh Air — I recognize that Carr would want his hometown coworkers to be not intimidated but inspired.

3) Build community. A couple of colleagues asked me in January to teach a weekly yoga practice over the noon hour, even though I hadn’t taught for more than a year. We meet in a drafty gym, with no music. We bring our own blocks and other props. We have a varying range of abilities.

And it’s become a high point of my week. They overlook my rusty teaching. I watch then bring courage and humility to the mat. We’re taking risks, and that helps us appreciate one another in a way that simply working together does not.

4) Just do it. I’m grateful for the discipline developed over decades in the workplace. You suit up and show up, even when you’d rather be somewhere else. “My whole life is have to,” Steve Martin declares in Parenthood, a spot-on film I saw the day I learned I was pregnant with my older son.Parenthood

I don’t want to walk my dogs in the minus-zero wind-chill every morning. I don’t always want to visit my mother in the memory-care facility, or shop for groceries, or sort the boxes taking up space in our one-car garage. But I do it, because I have to. And because action is always preferable to riding the merry-go-round inside my head.

5) Write it down. On my best days, I see that obligation gives my life purpose. People count on me. I have a good job and a strong network of friends. I’ve built a family to care for and about.

On the harder days — which was most of sub-zero February — I start the day with a cup of coffee and a journal. Thirty minutes later, the world looks right again.

Then I haul out the long, black down coat and the boots that hold me upright on the ice — and I get on with it, whatever it is, because having places to go and people to see brings me one step closer to spring and beats the alternative of wallowing in the winter blues.

Healthy, holistic success: Be curious, be mindful, be brave

The wheel of life — an exercise designed to help people find true balance among all aspects of their lives — typically has eight areas of focus, from social life to personal growth to career.

Amy Machacek, 46, a high-energy yoga instructor turned entrepreneur, rocked the wheel a bit for her personal and corporate training programs. Her nine categories include “home/environment,” “fun and recreation,” “significant other/romance” and “friends.”Amy Etzell

As the owner of two Northfield, Minnesota–based businesses — HeartWork Yoga and LIFE.REVAMP — Machacek has relied equally on her instincts, her network (including her entrepreneurial father) and her passion for keeping up with industry trends. In addition to her E-RYT 200-hour yoga certification, she has trained in nutrition, meditation and life coaching. She’s also studied with Jack Canfield, co-creator of the Chicken Soup for the Soul series and author of The Success Principles.

Machacek’s liberal arts education at the University of St. Thomas taught her to “be curious” — one of her favorite sayings — and to embrace lifelong learning. “It’s why I have one daughter there now and another starting in the fall,” she says.

On February 6, Machacek will headline UST’s prestigious First Friday Speaker Series in downtown Minneapolis, offering attendees a five-step plan for gaining more energy in all areas of their lives.

On stress reduction: Yoga doesn’t decrease your stress. It doesn’t make your boss nicer or your kids listen to you. But it changes your perception of that stress. I’m helping people process or manage this stuff in a way that is less taxing.”

On the character of an entrepreneur: “I’m not sure whether it takes courage or stupidity! My partner, Dave Shonka, works for a traditional company. He likes the security, but he doesn’t have the freedom. I like the freedom, and I’m OK without having security. Neither is right or wrong, but your choice should match your personality.

“I’m creative, and I really need a creative outlet. Plus, I watched my family do this when I was growing up. It seemed normal to me to put in long hours when you’re building the business and have some flexibility once the business is doing well.”

On growing a business: “If I stay just one step ahead of my growth, I can expand thoughtfully and not have to take on debt. HeartWork initially was yoga classes only, in a small town with 11 other places that offer yoga. We weren’t going to be viable forever if we just did yoga classes.Life Revamp

“Then I created the yoga teacher training school and added personal training to the studio. LIFE.REVAMP was next. I was working on all of my certifications, and I recognized that if I combined nutrition, life coaching and yoga, I could help people gain forward momentum.

“I brought in barre tone classes when I saw them on the coasts. People have short attention spans. If you’re not adding or changing, you’re dying.”

On how fitness fuels success: “Everyone in LIFE.REVAMP is working on their own things, but it all starts with fitness and nutrition. The initial call may come because of career issues, but first people need more energy and clarity about where they are body-wise.

“One of my clients has 750 employees, and his company bought another company this fall. He told me how great he felt standing in front of his expanded team. ‘I knew what I was talking about,’ he told me. ‘I was standing up straight.’ Another middle-aged client who has shed some weight says she’s now ready to focus on being an athlete again.”

On the tyranny of technology: “We have to make some rules for ourselves. At the end of the workday, Ward Cleaver could close his ledger book, turn off the light and go home. And nothing followed him.

“Now, that doesn’t happen — but we don’t have to allow technology into every aspect of our lives. Otherwise, it’s like the spoiled child who demands our attention all the time. We’re losing out on our relationships because of it.”

On positive parenting: “I don’t want to hover over my kids and make every decision for them. I help them slowly make more decisions as they get older, so they’re ready when they go to college. Nowadays, parenting seems to be defined as keeping kids in a sweet, tight grip. My job as a mom is to love my kids and prepare to let them go.”

On beauty and aging: Marcia Wellstone [Markuson] was a classmate of mine at Northfield High. When she died in October 2002, I was 33 years old. I remember it vividly. We’d had a class reunion that summer, and she was this shiny person. She had gotten remarried, she loved her stepkids. I was standing in my bedroom when I heard the news and thought: ‘Who am I to complain about getting older, about being alive?’ Marcia didn’t get this opportunity, and I did.

“I describe it now as my life before that moment and my life after. Honestly, not for one day since then have I complained about aging. I see aging as a gift, and I believe that to the bottom of who I am.”

On the rewards of growing older: “I love the wisdom and experiences that come with age. All the hard stuff and good stuff we’ve been through makes us who we are today.”

On staying curious: “I tell people in my classes every day: ‘Be curious. Don’t act like you know everything.’ Our lives get smaller as we grow older. We don’t get down on the floor. We don’t reach our arms as high. We don’t move as fast, we don’t try new things — but we need to keep reaching in life.”

What Gen X Can Teach Boomers about Parenthood

At a time when the necessity and affordability of high-quality child care is back in the news, two Generation X mothers — educated, ambitious and deliberately underemployed — exemplify a model of work-family balance that provides a different solution to a persistent problem.

Who takes care of the kids when both parents work?

In the households of Julie Reiter and Liz Boyer, the answer is: It’s a family affair. “The most important job in the world,” as Chelsea Clinton recently described motherhood, is the work of mothers and fathers alike, in Reiter and Boyer’s respective marriages.

The “balance” in their families is less about women juggling responsibilities alone than it is both partners dancing daily through a life that is contradictory and complex, with trade-offs and rewards in equal measure.Juggling Woman

A recent conversation with these two Gen X moms convinces me they have learned from my workaholic generation — and that it’s not too late for us Baby Boomers to learn from them about priorities and possibilities, teamwork and trust.

Lesson 1: You can’t “have it all.”

Born between 1965 and 1980, Generation X was raised during what one analyst calls “one of the most blatantly anti-child phases in history,” when feminism, greater career opportunities and more access to birth control (and abortion) gave women a new range of options.

Gen X mothers are more skeptical than we were about the messages that society — and advertisers — are trying to sell them. (Remember the slim, sexy “24-hour woman” in the Enjoli perfume ad who brought home the bacon and fried it up in a pan?)

“You can do anything, but you can’t do everything,” says Boyer, 39, executive director of Macalester-Groveland Community Council in St. Paul and a Master of Science candidate in environmental studies. “You can be an astronaut, but then you can’t be home with your kids. You can be a lawyer, but then you can’t be PTA president.”

The mother of Ellie, 10, and Alex, 6, Boyer longed to be an at-home mom — a role that my generation shunned as old-fashioned and professionally limiting. But that dream was financially impossible given her husband’s career in education and nonprofits.

After spending two years “pissing and moaning” when Ellie was a baby, Boyer has made peace with having to be employed. “In retrospect, it’s made me a better mom to work part time all those years,” she says.

Having only recently started working full time, however, she acknowledges the career sacrifice she’s made, too: “I’d be at a different point in my career if I hadn’t had kids.”

Lesson 2: Share roles and responsibilities.

My husband and I used to call ourselves “Ozzie and Harriet in reverse,” with me as family breadwinner and him as self-described “Mr. Mom.” It was new wrapping on an old package that limited one partner’s family time and the other’s earning potential.

Now that our two sons are grown, I remember — and try not to regret — how much mental and emotional energy I gave to my career. When I wasn’t literally at the office, I often was thinking about work, or I was engaged in the freelance writing and aerobics teaching that helped me feed the family (and my ego).Gen X road sign

Reiter and Boyer, like other Gen X mothers, have a more fluid, seamless approach to life and work. They are present with their children, holistically, in a way that I couldn’t seem to manage. And while they care about their careers, work is not their first priority.

“I like to work hard. I love challenge,” says Reiter, 42, executive director of Union Park District Council in St. Paul and a Berkeley-educated attorney. “But I clearly don’t care about the career path, or I would have followed that route.”

Her husband jokingly calls her his “downwardly mobile wife.” Reiter was planning to practice in a prestigious downtown law firm when they met, and she still has more earning capacity than he does as a human resources specialist.

Today, they are partners in a shared endeavor to raise and support their son and daughter — Beyen, 8, and Beena, 7 — whom they adopted from Ethiopia as toddlers. Reiter’s husband works from home most days, giving her flexibility and him access to the children, and her office is two blocks away, allowing her to be home with the children after school and at dinnertime.

Lesson 3: Accept that life is unpredictable.

If I could do anything differently, I would worry less and enjoy the moment more. (My older sisters tell me that’s the benefit of being grandmothers.)

Between them, Boyer and Reiter have lived through job loss, pay cuts, ill children who spoke no English, arguments about whose turn it is to cook and buy groceries, and, currently, full-time jobs with tangible rewards but no benefits.

And yet: They laugh easily. They see the big picture. When Boyer was commuting from St. Paul to Chaska with a colicky baby at home who refused to take a bottle, she lamented to a friend that the life she’d created wasn’t working.

“You’ll keep tweaking things till it does work,” the woman told Boyer. “Everything will be alright in the end, and if it’s not alright, it’s not the end.”

Reiter’s mother was home full time until Julie was 15. “And she resents it to this day, the fact that she never had a life of her own,” Reiter says wistfully. “My mom says now: ‘It’s so good that the kids see you go off to meetings. It’s important for them to understand your work ethic.’”

She grins. “When we walk into the Neighborhood Café, my kids see people give me a hug and thank me for my work. I’m investing in this community, and it’s benefiting my family.”