We love our friends. We really do. But even as I practice channeling acceptance, meditating, Zen breathing, and openness to the universe, I get irritated. It’s not about accepting them. I do. It’s not about judgement. I don’t judge…

Is there a second act in you? Perhaps even a third? At this age, we all know that the definition of insanity is “doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result…”

Do you remember the pushmi-pullyu from the original Dr. Doolittle (1967) with Rex Harrison? I’ve always wondered why it never became an icon…

I am actively studying “the art of doing nothing.” It is an art. A wise friend said to me, “Do something, just sit there.” Do you know how hard it is, to do nothing? To just sit there? No reaction. No action. No thoughts. No plan. Just be. Just rest…?

I attended Columbia Business School for one week in 1983. I learned all I needed to know. Always have an escape plan. It’s an important lesson, especially as we move into a phase of life where every moment counts. We want to choose our path and not have it…

It took me 50 years to discover the power of a childhood friend. It all started when I was shipped off to sleep away camp in the summer of 1969 and met Betsy Brown. By 1975 we were already too old for camp. Would we still be friends…

There’s nothing like a pandemic to show the cracks in the veneer. Where things can break down. What does not work. And yet I am the eternal optimist. I like to find that silver lining. The lesson, the takeaway, the surprise…

Nothing surpasses motherhood. Of all the feelings, emotions and do-overs I would like in my life, my relationship with myself vis-a-vis my daughter is at the top of the list. Read More

I am no stranger to problematic situations. Even as I grow older and wiser, I still get flustered. This is evidenced by my recent refrigerator delivery. Or let me restate that, my scheduled refrigerator delivery. Three and a half hours into the delivery window, no fridge had been delivered. When I called the store…

I had the chance to visit the original Starbucks on Pike Place in Seattle. It looks nothing like the chain I have come to rely upon. Yet the formula is the same. My drip coffee is filled to the brim. I have to pour out coffee to make “room.” (Yes, I’m one of those – a little coffee in my cream, please.) Read More