I believe in the healing power of laughter. I believe laughter forces us to breathe.

It's about showing up. And sometimes I don't do it. I almost always regret it, but sometimes I don't do it. Sometimes I walk into a situation where I'm intimidated and I want to be liked and I want to fit in, and I don't choose authenticity. And it's always pretty miserable.

Authenticity is the daily practice of letting go of who we think we're supposed to be and embracing who we are.

Worrying about scarcity is our culture's version of post-traumatic stress. It happens when we've been through too much, and rather than coming together to heal (which requires vulnerability) we're angry and scared and at each other's throats.

Vulnerability sounds like truth and feels like courage.

Many people think of perfectionism as striving to be your best, but it is not about self-improvement; it's about earning approval and acceptance.

I define vulnerability as uncertainty, risk and emotional exposure. With that definition in mind, let’s think about love. Waking up every day and loving someone who may or may not love us back, whose safety we can’t ensure, who may stay in our lives or may leave without a moment’s notice, who may be loyal to the day they die or betray us tomorrow—that’s vulnerability.