The newness of another year and another passion inspired me to write a letter to my future self. About all the things I hope for that person: healing, fulfillment, self-companionship. It's an enlightening practice because it sheds light on what matters most this year and right now. May this letter be what you needed to read today.

“The word blessing evokes a sense of warmth and protection; it suggests that no life is alone or unreachable.” As this Irish poet shows us, a blessing for transitions (of many kinds) can hold us, guide us, and show us that we don't have to go it alone. We are meant to help and be helped along the way.

Our wedding vows are an ode to the power of love, and friendship, and hope. Because that's how we make it through the difficult things. Our special day, like all I ever share here in writing, was a celebration of how far we’ve all come, and who we've chosen to become. I hope our wedding vows make you feel something.

What if life is actually everything happening all at once, not compartmentalized and controlled but fluid and full, each task wed to another, each sadness and delight related? This poem is about that sense of wonderment and appreciation. Being in awe of everything is a kind of therapy, an active participation in life.

You’re not supposed to be able to control how other people live their lives — that’s their thing, not yours. I wrote these affirmations to help us both keep our focus on what matters most in difficult situations and conversations: what we CAN control. And what we can control is enough.

When you make decisions from a place of love, awareness, and integrity, they're decisions you can be proud of. Use these questions and prompts to help you identify the practices that’ll keep you true to who you are and how you want to show up in life. Use a journal and give yourself the time and space to reflect on your values.

Every now and then, you need someone to tell you that they believe in you. You need to know you're in someone's thoughts, in their prayers and in their heart. It's the knowledge that you're not alone in your struggles and in your hopes, and sometimes that's all you need to keep going.

I never thought I'd say "I don't drink," but this past Sunday marked six months since I've had a sip of alcohol. The most surprising part of it all? I'm happier sober. And I don't say that lightly. I've dealt with depression most of my life. But after my brother committed suicide, I made it a priority to take care of myself.