I’m not a mental health professional. I’m a hope builder. I feel like that, more than anything else I do on this earth, is my purpose. Because hope, when you really think about it, is the only thing you need to get better (besides lots of drugs, exercise, fish oil, probiotics, friends, self-help books, doctors, sleep, therapists,...

In his book, “Going to Pieces Without Falling Apart,” psychiatrist Mark Epstein, M.D. tells the famous Buddhist story of Kisagotami and the mustard seed: A young woman named Kisagotami lost her only child to illness around the time of his first birthday. Bereft, she went from house to house in her village, clasping the dead...

Last summer, when I was in the midst of a severe depressive episode, a good friend told me that my suffering had value, that she was sure that my angst and tears would serve some purpose. “This isn’t all wasted, “she said, “suffering has redemptive power.” She sent me an excerpt of Pope John Paul...

The classic poem “Desiderata” says that if you compare yourself to others you will either become vain or bitter. I don’t worry about becoming vain—as my self-esteem is still beneath sea level. But bitterness? That one had a hold of me last weekend. I reached out to a guy with whom I was in regular...

I thought I’d share this favorite quote of mine with you. I read it every day to remind myself not to panic when I get confused. Have patience with everything unresolved in your heart and try to love the questions themselves. Don’t search for the answers, which could not be given to you now, because...