Oh, who could forget the days when The Desiderata was all the rage...it was some time in the early 70s, I think, and we all thought it was so profound. Mostly after we'd smoked a bowl or two.A few years ago, a girlfriend and I were fond of spouting it to each other at appropriate and inappropriate . . .
If you ask me what i came to do in this world, I ...will answer you "I am here to live out loud."-Emile Zola . . .
It's easy to miss signs of the wonders ahead when we've been deeply wounded, or when we're busy being beaten down by the day to day drone of life, or when we think something is too good to be true. To really pay attention, we have to believe that wonders are in store. But we're usually afraid to . . .
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Although it's been more than a dozen years since I left my last Silicon Valley job, I still feel a sense of belonging and a relationship to the major players, like Steve Jobs. That's why I was so distressed to hear that he was taking a leave of absence from Apple for health issues. He's been . . .
We questioned everything in the 60s and 70s, but in the new millenium, it seems like a lost art. I'm reminded of it after talking to a friend who's having a crisis of faith, and as I gingerly get to know faith and trust, myself. I don't think it's such a bad thing to question most things, including . . .
Transitions. The concept of change can be terrifying for many of us. Sometimes change is forced upon us. Without any choice at all in the matter, we're left to cope. That's happened to me more than once, and it's hard. The hardest. Sometimes we choose change. That can happen because we have no . . .
My trainer says he wants me to take Pilates less for the physical benefits and more to get me “out of my head.” That suggestion is apparently the companion to our Pilates teacher’s comment to “stay in your body.” He’s right, of course, and his saying it was a gift. I stay in my head way too much. . . .
Another spectacular west-central Florida coast day. Blue sky, a little haze. Breeze. Gorgeous. I spent some time sitting outside at a Starbucks with a college chum, one of two with whom I reconnected last year. J. is closing off a 30-year career as an ad man for a big agency. After running . . .
IN MEMORYWITH GRATITUDE288-3095The number rings into a void, into the ether, into a tangle of central telephone office wires leading nowhere. Sprawled on top of a hill, the best house in a tract of split levels sits empty; a long, red brick ranch awaiting a new owner, a new family, a daughter who . . .
December is one of the most beautiful months in west-central Florida. Even though it's a bit chilly for Florida, the sky is very blue, the sun very bright and the palm trees very green--the combination makes it a perfect time sit on a Starbucks patio and have coffee with one's former trainer.Well, . . .