There is an art to grieving. To grieve well the loss of anyone or anything--a parent, a love, a child, an era, a home, a job--is a creative act. It takes attention and patience and courage. But many of us do not know how to grieve. We were never taught, and we don't see examples of full-bodied grieving around us. Our culture favors the fast-food model of mourning--get over it quick and get back to work; affix the bandage of "closure" and move on.

I'm very much a family person, and that's always my first priority.

Meditation practice is like piano scales, basketball drills, ballroom dance class. Practice requires discipline; it can be tedious; it is necessary. After you have practiced enough, you become more skilled at the art form itself. You do not practice to become a great scale player or drill champion. You practice to become a musician or athlete. Likewise, one does not practice meditation to become a great meditator. We meditate to wake up and live, to become skilled at the art of living.

It's not always about survival, this life we are given; it's usually so much easier than that. It's about trusting the eternal life force that is flowing within us-letting that force lead the way through all of the inevitable changes we will face across the span of our time here on Earth.

We'll never change everyone's minds. We're not supposed to.

It's like you trade the virility of the body for the agility of the spirirt.

Don't persuade, defend or interrupt. Be curious, be conversational, be real. And listen.