Sitting in my clinic, sipping on some thoughts because coffee has caffeine (chuckle), I wonder if I’ve lost my grip on humor. Am I too isolated these days that my humor has dried up? I think and think, rotting slightly in my well-crafted, hand-picked chair. The book starts speaking to me; our conversation is loud and keeps getting louder. It speaks to my life, my boredom, and my need to feel stirred. Another session waits. Let’s make some notes. (As if I make notes after eve

Dear Grief, I have known you up close—wrapped around the corners of my eyes, lingering, waiting for a moment to slip in. The tragedy of sudden loss is unfathomable. One question keeps echoing: why me?   why me? Why did I lose my loved one? The pain takes over the body and the life. Everything becomes suffocating. The identity that once held one together begins to feel like a garment outgrown. There is a wish—not always conscious—to change into something else, permanently. (Th

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