I was a hippie during the early seventies.Well, somewhat. I didn’t live in a commune. I didn’t take acid every day. Only once in a while. But I was a member of the Vietnam War resistance. We made signs and chanted, “Hell no, we won’t go.” And “Make Love, Not War.” In...
It was 1988 and a friend of mine, Michael, was in the hospital. He had been diagnosed with AIDS and back then, it meant that he wouldn’t be here for much longer. There were no cocktails tofight the virus and the only drug available was reportedly killing people at the...
My mother had a firm opinion about therapy. It was for the weak-minded. She was a member of “the bootstrap generation.” Instead of talking things through, you pulled yourself up by the bootstraps and moved on. You swallowed your feelings and kept busy. Sufferingin...
When in Doubt, Just Listen Last Tuesday afternoon, my friend Michael and I were finishing a four mile walk. I felt really good but when I was approaching my car, the window on the passenger side had been shattered. It looked like someone had struck it with a hammer....
The following is a true story. It’s my first memory: I was five years old and I dreamt I was in the kitchen of my childhood home when I heard a roar that was so loud and terrifying, I put my hands over my ears. A massive lion was pacing at the other end of the room....
I have a famous bed. It’s a healing bed. All of my friends know about it. From successful motivational speakers to my best friends for decades, they come to me when they’re having a meltdown. I put them in my bed, I pull up the covers and I stroke their heads until...
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