Surrendering is getting out of your own way. Far from giving up, true surrender is liberation: freed from a limited perspective of “it must be this!” surrender opens us to something more.

One of the more obvious and trying aspects of this pandemic we’re floundering in is all the things we can’t do. This horrid little virus has spurred limitations the likes of which most of us have never seen.

A long time ago, just out of graduate school and some 2,500 hours into a five-year process of becoming a counselor, I sat down with my supervisor and announced that, while I enjoyed working with clients, there was something more pulling at me.

For being so cold and bleak, February is a pretty darned happy month. There’s the lunar new year — with its joyful celebration of new beginnings and opportunities for success — and Valentine’s Day, stirring thoughts of the heart. It all has me thinking about the heart of success.

f you are one of those lucky people who knew who you were and what you wanted to do from the time you were seven years old, this column is not for you. Furthermore, I don’t ever want to talk to you and please don’t write me.

One of my favorite quotes, torn and taped to my desk, is this one, attributed to Joseph Campbell: “We must be willing to let go of the life we have planned so as to have the life that is waiting for us.”

Sometimes the Universe is not subtle. In the past eight weeks, I was privileged to watch three pairs of birds build their nests, lay their eggs, and fledge their young. At the same time, a half dozen monarch caterpillars joined our family and we’ve watched them grow and form glittering green chrysalises and emerge as beautiful butterflies.

Reading through my collegiate musings reminded me of some interesting things from my past that I’d forgotten, like the fact that I sure did have a lot of boyfriends, and I sure was into Jesus, and I sure was a damned good daughter for writing all these newsy letters. But the big OMG moment was seeing how really very little has changed.

how do we revive Soul—a subtle, invisible, formless, internal entity—living as we do in a noisy, gadget-gawking, consumption-oriented society that constantly pulls our attention away from our inner life?

The life of a writer is not as glamourous as you might think; it’s not all sweatpants and eating dry cereal out of the box and royalty payments stuffing the mailbox. This morning, for instance, I awoke from a spicy little dream and stared into the dark thinking about the dream and what it meant and trying to drag out the good feeling for as long as I could.

I had a boyfriend in college who knew from his first breath that he wanted to be a lawyer. I was hugely envious of this: he was so directed, his course so clear. I had no idea what I wanted to do, or who I was. This boyfriend used to say that I had a lot of stars in my heaven, a poetic way of saying that I was directionless.

Remember “The Secret” craze a few years back?  It was all about manifesting your heart’s desires.  Unfortunately, its focus was all about manifesting material desires, which is no secret whatsoever; we all know how to get stuff: whine, cajole, marry well. (I’m kidding. Sort of.) But the REAL secret lies in this quote from the Gnostic Gospels.