I have an outdoorsy husband and two children between the ages of 9 and 12. I want to be as cool as possible, of course, so I try to engage in lots of outdoor sports with them. But I come from the concrete jungle of Manhattan and, although I love spending time in nature, I wouldn’t consider myself the daring…
“You were late because you got stuck on the D train? That’s odd, because the D train was closed for track work last night. I know that because I had to switch to the Q.” “Did I say the D? I meant the Q!” “But I thought you said you met your friend Bob at his office. How did you…
A couple of months ago a blogger called me “a self-taught hate-ologist, a journalist who tracks and reports on the various hermetically sealed world views that pollute public discourse (at their best) and spin out crazy people with grudges and weapons (at their worst).” She was right about what I do, but not so much about what I am. It’s…
Brené Brown, an academic researcher, was going to spend a year “deconstructing” shame, fear, and vulnerability. It turned into six years and a life-changing revelation. She interviewed thousands of people and found they could be divided into those with a sense of love and belonging and those who wished they felt that sense. The former group held certain surprising things…
Learning to become independent, in thought and action, is one of the hallmarks of growing up. But independence for some is elusive. About one million American adults may suffer from Dependent Personality Disorder (DPD), a condition that compels them to continually seek out and defer to the authority of others. The need for direction and approval is pervasive in DPD,…
Every six months Franny rearranges the furniture in her home. “Just moving the couch from one wall to another can change the whole feel of a room!” she exclaims. “The change in energy makes me more creative, invigorated, and ready to face any challenge.” Franny’s is just one example of how your environment reflects your identity. A business major in…
March blew out with surrender. There was that day I drove home from the beach, drinking as usual. But then, a moment of clarity. Noticing how fast “just one” became six at 60 mph, I saw myself as I was: an alcoholic. Funny, after 35 years of “problem drinking,” in the end it was one lousy six-pack that did me…
