Home is where the heart is inclined. Home is our soul, our true self, the place where our humanity and divinity meet and make magic.

There are choice points in life, places where one must choose between staying small or becoming something more. The former has a well-defined outcome; the latter, unknown. 

It’s famously said that when the student is ready, the teacher appears. Sometimes, that teacher comes as a coyote in a pick-up truck.

Warning: This column has nothing whatsoever to do with Valentine’s, the Lunar New Year, or other such niceties. You may find it helpful, however, if Life has thrown you a few curve balls or wicked sinkers lately, which it has to me.

One of the most difficult things in the world is to know who you really are. For over two decades I’ve  followed the Greek maxim inscribed at the Temple of Delphi: “Know thyself.” And I think I do. I think I’m a salmon.

Civility suffers in a fast-moving, perpetually preoccupied and self-centered society. In fact, civility cannot exist alongside narcissism: the two are mutually exclusive. And ours is a painfully, often obscenely narcissistic culture.

It’s counter-intuitive to take a blow without doing something, anything, to defend oneself. When your marriage is a mess or your body betrays you or you’re on a financial cliff edge, the tendency is to become two years old again and have a hissy fit.

Everything is meaningful. Important things are being offered all the time — if we but pay attention. 

Death gifts us with these reminders: Appreciate freely. Love fiercely. Eat life in big bites. Don’t wait until the last, good day to embrace your beautiful, fleeting life.

Embracing our wilder, fiercer natures might be messy and feel a bit scary, but it also makes for a richer, sexier, fuller life.

Envy is a miserable emotion. It sucks us out of our lives depositing us in a bleak terrain where we are so focused on what we don’t have that we forget about all that we do.

A little education about the heart and the origins of Valentine’s Day: an alternative, if you will, to the commercial sentimentality foisted upon us by Madison Avenue.

On the nature of disease, its meanings, and our role in creating it.

Our lives are so much more than what we can see when the sun is shining. The dark times open us to a greater revelation. The darkness opens a dialogue with soul.

It is far too easy to become wrapped up in what is “wrong” in our lives, far too easy to slip into self-pity and to forget that this moment is but a point on an infinite trajectory.

The real suffering of life—the unavoidable agonies—are not problems to be solved but experiences to be faced and felt.

The eight, best pieces of advice—ever.

You’ve heard someone say it. Heck, maybe you say it. “I’m spiritual but not religious.” But what the heck does that really mean?

The opportunity to come into our fullness is the sacred gift contained in midlife. Who are you? Why are you here? What needs to be done? And what will remain when your castle returns to the sea?

A somewhat amusing foray into the land of adrenal fatigue.