Being an introvert in a hugely extraverted culture is no easy thing. In a bombastic culture of high energy, high volume, competition and assertiveness, a sensitive swan can feel overwhelmed.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me, but I’m just not that into Christmas this year. I don’t want a tree, I’m not interested in buying presents; I just want to curl up with a book and be quiet.” My client looked at me half expectantly, half sheepishly.

Here’s a holiday pop quiz: Do you remember what you received for Christmas last year? Do you remember what you gave? Me either.

If you are in the midst of grief, the holidays can be an especially tough time. Mourning a loss during this season of joyful celebration is an exercise in endurance and suffering.

What do Donald Trump, a trip to Costco, and my dog have in common? More than you might imagine. A strange confluence of events culminated this morning in a surprising, personal revelation.

Loneliness is epidemic in our culture. It occurs, as often as not, when we feel unable to express our true selves, or feel we are not understood or seen.

I seldom do what I’m about to do, which, I hope, will make what follows jump out at you and grab your bathrobe.

You are love even if you live in your head and forget about love. You are love even if you don’t feel loving, even if you feel lonely. Your true essence, is LOVE.

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.