September 2, 2018


Spaces in between us

Are but salt for fate’s repast

As the compass of our hearts

Aligns with love at last.

There is no separation

Even though we are apart

As oneness knows no distance

No time, no stop, nor start.

We shall not lose our way

To fulfillment of this dream

When our spirits are enjoined

By a fabric without seam.

The cloth’s spread o’er the table

So come, partake with me

Of this banquet...

April 23, 2018


Go ahead, flaunt your glory.

You’ve earned the moment, after all

So many months of fallow,

Empty bough and pallid hue

Aren’t who you are

So throw off all constraint –

You were meant to be brazen.

The long sleep is over; freedom grins

And crooks its finger, “Come on!...

Late at night I lie in bed and picture

The communication we could have had this evening

Before you retreated to your room

With a walled-in “goodnight.”

I see us in the kitchen while I toss ingredients

Into measuring cups and bowls, mixing the batter

For your sister’s thirteenth birthday cake, squinting at

The old, splotched recipe scribbled on scratch paper

While you lean your elbows on the counter—

All l...

August 21, 2017


We don’t see things as they are,

we see them as we are.

                                       - Anais Nin

Ever notice the way your external environment often mirrors your internal one? Like when you're frustrated you're running late for an appointment and nearly every traffic light is red? Then,...

July 23, 2017

There’s a billboard on I-10 outside of L.A. that grabbed my eye when I drove by. I was on a road trip from the Arizona high desert to the ocean, to get my fix. I longed for the sea with its limitless horizon. Every now and again I need to be immersed in my boundless existence.

Which brings me to the billboard, announcing in behemothic letters beneath a photo of a tiny infant: THERE IS EVIDENCE FOR...

July 14, 2017

Under the grand piano

The safest place in the house

Tucked in a dark corner

I’m silent as a mouse.

Fingers stuffed in my ears

Muffling the shrieks and screams

I can leave behind my body 

And go to a world of dreams.

Curled up in this secret place

Nothing can touch me here

No mean words, kicks or blows

For I can disappear.

No one knows I’m hiding

From the pain and fright

Not even my little sister

Who’s sick in b...

December 27, 2016

People often ask me whether writing my book has been therapeutic - and I answer, "No…but the publishing process sure has been."

You've probably heard a dozen times that writing a book is easy compared to getting it published. Whether you choose the traditional publishing route or the self-publishing path, both avenues require boatloads of work, which, for us creative types can be fraught with anxi...

December 12, 2016

I'm often asked why, as a therapist, I chose to write a novel rather than a non-fiction or self-help book. My response is that sometimes lessons are easier to swallow when conveyed in a story.

Early on in my career I learned to circumnavigate the defense mechanisms of my clients by going in "the side door" as I call it.

To make a counselee's painful realities easier to accept, sometimes I'd disclos...

December 7, 2016

For me, a good novel is an exploration that expands our self-awareness. It's also an escape from our daily dramas and unrealized dreams, even allowing us to see reality differently. And in the intense reality of this election year, a compelling novel can even help us surrender mindsets that no longer serve us.

In Natural Disasters, A Love Story, the protagonist Maggie Chisholm had to let go of who...

December 2, 2016

...or "golden nuggets," as protagonist Maggie Chisholm calls them. "We can usually find something to be grateful for if we squint long enough at a situation," she says, in Natural Disasters, A Love Story.

As a psychotherapist, I'm always looking for the gifts enveloped in the midst of apparent calamity.

One of the major gifts is that of self-discovery. Opportunities for personal growth an...

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