On humility and kindness, for self and others, in a season of grieving.

There are some things we simply cannot change. We can either fight that fact, or we can surrender to what’s next.

We’re almost there my friends. We’re at the finish line of 2020: the craziest, weirdest, most tumultuous, contentious, painful, scary, exhausting year that most of us have ever seen.

A famous lyric from Gilbert and Sullivan says, “Things are seldom what they seem.” I’d say that things are never what they seem. There’s always more to the story. 

I’ve been having a week filled with messages: Message after message, all on the same topic. It’s as if someone is yelling, “Can you hear me now? Can you hear me NOW??”

Passion is nothing if not the spark in your soul. It is energy. Fire. What brings you alive. And it’s never too late to find your spark. 

Five lessons I wish I’d mastered back in high school that would’ve made life a whole lot easier and happier.

When you accept things as they are rather than as you would have them be, you flow with Life rather than resisting it. It’s a whole lot easier.

I recently went through some old letters and belongings of my parents saved over many years. In them, I found an airmail letter, typed on thin, onion skin paper and dated March 20, 1973, from one Rafael Icaza.

The following is an excellent and most helpful list, perfect for cutting out and sending to your children or taping to the fridge. It’s the eight best pieces of advice, ever.

True success is defined by who you are, not what you have. It’s not based on bank accounts or Instagram followers, but on values essential to the human spirit.

The holiday season can be particularly dark and difficult if you are grieving. “The most wonderful time of the year” can feel anything but.

There's a country song with the catchy little phrase: "When was the last time you did something for the first time?" Those words have (annoyingly) stuck with me because, well, I haven't done very much at all for the first time in a long time. This is not good.

Being an introvert in a hugely extraverted culture is no easy thing. In a bombastic culture of high energy, high volume, competition and assertiveness, a sensitive swan can feel overwhelmed.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me, but I’m just not that into Christmas this year. I don’t want a tree, I’m not interested in buying presents; I just want to curl up with a book and be quiet.” My client looked at me half expectantly, half sheepishly.

Here’s a holiday pop quiz: Do you remember what you received for Christmas last year? Do you remember what you gave? Me either.

What do Donald Trump, a trip to Costco, and my dog have in common? More than you might imagine. A strange confluence of events culminated this morning in a surprising, personal revelation.

Loneliness is epidemic in our culture. It occurs, as often as not, when we feel unable to express our true selves, or feel we are not understood or seen.

I seldom do what I’m about to do, which, I hope, will make what follows jump out at you and grab your bathrobe.

You are love even if you live in your head and forget about love. You are love even if you don’t feel loving, even if you feel lonely. Your true essence, is LOVE.