I believe that truth is the most important thing there is, next to love. I believe that there is a relationship between truth and love, and that the more truth there is, the more love there is.

I believe the most important truth is the truth we tell ourselves. I believe that nothing is as damaging to us as the untruths we tell ourselves.

I believe that truth heals. I also believe that truth is beautiful. Truth isn’t always obvious, however. And it isn’t always convenient, that’s for sure.

I believe that truth is light and untruth is dark. I believe the more truth there is, the less harm there is, and the more untruth there is, the more harm there is.

I believe the most important thing is to know your own personal truth in such a way that you can clearly articulate it to yourself. I believe the next most important thing is to act in concert with this truth. Next is to speak your truth. I believe it’s also important to know when to protect your personal truth, letting it be known to you, but unspoken to others.

I believe that to ignore your personal truth is to ignore the source of your own strength.

I believe that personal truth must be accepted without judgment. It is what it is. It is truth, and truth has the power to heal your life. 

I learned the hard way how manifestation works — that it can work instantly if you’re in just the right head space, and that instantly isn’t always such a good thing. Here’s the story.

One Saturday many years ago I took my son to a birthday party at a gym in West L.A. He was five at the time, and I was seven months pregnant with his younger sister. While he ran off to play with his classmates, I sat down to watch. Next to me was a woman I didn’t know, but who, seeing I was pregnant, decided to regale me with the story of her friend’s pregnancy — her friend who got pregnancy jaundice and nearly went blind.

The trouble was, I’m an empathetic person, perhaps even what is called an empath, and I listened with deep and genuine empathy to every horrible agony this poor woman had suffered. I put myself in her shoes and felt truly truly sorry for her. I couldn’t imagine how terrible her experience must have been.

When I left the party an hour or so later, I noticed the palms of my hands were itching. Lo and behold, I was exhibiting an early sign of pregnancy jaundice — all from having overly empathized with the experiences of a woman I did not know and would never meet. I could hardly believe it was possible. Luckily, I had only two months to go in my pregnancy and no serious complications ensued, though my daughter was born with acute jaundice.

Years later, at a seminar, I recounted this event to Deepak Chopra and asked him how I could prevent that kind of thing from happening again. He told me to go immediately to the opposite thought, meaning, cancel out the first thought with its opposite. I swore that from then on, I would.

But then a few weeks ago, I found myself on the phone listening intently as a loved one told me about a problem he was having with a molar. I felt myself go too deeply in, and even thought to myself, “Oops! I went too far.” Sure enough, about a week later pain developed in my own molar — the same one that was troubling my friend. It took weeks to clear up.

That’s what “sympathy pains” are, I guess. But what is the counterpart of sympathy pains? Why aren’t there “sympathy gains?”

Reviewing the situation — I couldn’t believe I’d done it again — I couldn’t help but ask myself why, if I was so adept at manifesting the unwanted, I wasn’t equally capable of manifesting the wanted? Why couldn’t I heal as quickly as I could ail?

I’m sure it can be done. But what I realized is that the kind of empathy that causes you to align your energy so perfectly with the object of your empathy that you instantly become it, is usually only brought out when people tell you their troubles.

We don’t tend to share our good stories the way we share our troubles. We don’t want to brag. We don’t want to rub it in. We don’t want others to feel bad because of our good fortune. It’s kind of sad when you think about it.

I suspect that I could get just as engaged, and empathize just as deeply, with the glorious details of someone’s great good fortune, and that, if I let myself go truly, deeply into it, I could manifest something wonderful in the process. It might take practice, but I’d like to try.

Let’s start sharing the best events of our lives! In detail!

I finally got around to watching Monday night’s Bachelorette. Ashley cried pretty much nonstop. It was painful to watch her suffer over things that had no basis in reality, things that were really just concoctions in her own mind, like her belief that she was a disappointment to all the guys who really wanted Emily, or that the one guy that was right for her was Bentley the cad.

As Bentley was saying needlessly cruel things about her, Ashley was already picturing happily-ever-after. She told Chris Harrison she loved Bentley, whom she didn’t even know, obviously. I mean, really didn’t know. And in doing so she became the Poster Child for every female who’s ever been played. She demonstrated to the world how easy it is to open a girl’s heart and stomp on it. And that there are guy who are only too willing to do that.

How does that happen? How does someone get taken in like that? Mistake calculation for chemistry? How did it happen to me?

Well, let’s start with me.

Years ago I would have told you it happened because I was young and naïve and had never before been “played.” I didn’t know the signs. Or I’d have said the guy got away with it because I was lonely and in need of attention, affection, and love. But those are surface reasons. The truth is, my bullshit detector was not functioning properly. I couldn’t detect the lies someone else was telling me because I was too engaged in lying to myself to know the difference.

When I was Ashley’s age, I only knew who I wanted to be, who I thought I should be. I did not know who I was. And if you aren’t being the authentic you, good and bad, how can you be expected to recognize authenticity in another?

Conversely, once you become familiar, comfortable and accepting of the real you, recognizing what’s great about you and making peace with what’s not, then it’s easy to recognize phoniness in another. A guy can walk his smooth, polished play right up to you, and it will not appeal to you in the least. It will strike you as practiced and insincere, and you will be right.

And here’s another little tip-off in case you’re not yet entrenched in your own authenticity: when a guy says “all the right things,” it’s because he’s said them before.

Good guys, the best guys, aren’t that smooth. They don’t talk to you the way men talk to women on soap operas, where other women write their lines. They’re not inclined to sit up all night with a glass of wine and listen to every little detail of your life, the way your girlfriends would. But players have that move down pat. They invest time in it because it works. Women fall for it.

So, girls, let Ashley be an example of what not to do, even though you may feel some concern for her, as I do. This show is not a good environment for someone whose sense of self is so fragile and undeveloped that she doesn’t yet know who she is, much less what she wants and deserves in a partner. She’s not ready for a partner. I hope this turns into a growing experience for her and not a devastating one.

A reader wrote in today planning to ask the question, “Am I on the right path?” As soon as she formed the question, she realized that the answer was “Yes.”

I would say the answer to this question is always yes, that in truth thereis no wrong path. Think about it. If life is endless and eternal, allowing for all manner of exploration; if the soul in its godfulness wishes to experience every aspect of being in order to gain expansion thereby; if in fact there is no time, but only the illusion of a linear physical experience, how can there be a wrong path? There can’t. There can only be many paths.

The problem is, the lonely sojourner has a destination in mind, a place he’d like to get to quickly, a demi-paradise, if we’re being honest, where his sacrifice and hard work pay off and he lays claim to the peace and joy that have lately been eluding him. All too often, though, he ends up feeling lost and abandoned along the way. Perhaps he has a flat tire and sits by the roadside for months on end without making any progress. Or maybe the road he’s on is not well marked, and when the pavement runs out and his tires start kicking up gravel, he thinks, This can’t be right. Did I miss a turn? Am I on the wrong path?

The idea of a spiritual journey sounds so beautiful at the outset, but if you’re in the midst of one, you know it feels more like a wilderness than a week at an ashram. You begin to wonder if it’s a mirage you’re walking toward, rather than true and meaningful change. Even Jesus, in his humanness, felt forsaken in his final hours, and if he felt utterly abandoned, where does that leave us?

I would say, if you’re struggling, if you’re uncomfortable, you’re probably doing something right. You’re probably experiencing the sort of friction that causes growth. Allow yourself to trust and believe that youare on the right path, doing exactly as you’re meant to do. As my friend likes to say, It’s all unfolding. And so are you. And if spiritual growth happened any quicker (I know you want to get it over with), you wouldn’t be able to assimilate it properly. It wouldn’t become an integral, unshakable part of a more authentic you.

Be patient with yourself as you journey into the unknown, be kind to yourself when you grow weary and cranky, and above all celebrate every sign of progress along the way. Because you are going somewhere worth going, even when it feels like you’re not moving at all.

There’s a story behind the puzzle piece I use as my Twitter avatar.

The summer of 1995 was a magical summer for me. I’d finally faced the truth that my life wasn’t working. I couldn’t go on the way I’d been living; my body wouldn’t allow it. So I said to God one night before I fell asleep, “I need something else in my life, but I don’t know what it is. Bring me something that would delight me, would You? You know me better than I know myself.”

By the end of that week, through a purely serendipitous event, some friends had contracted with me to do the interior design of a coffeehouse-bookstore they were opening in Colorado. I’d never done this kind of work for hire. It turned out to be a wonderful experience — hard, fun, fulfilling, and even well-paying.

I thought, Gee, all I had to do was ask and here it came. So I decided I’d go back to the Well and try again. “God,” I said, “I’ve done everything I can possibly think of to make my marriage work. I don’t know what else to do, so I’m turning it over to You. Do with it as You will.”

Though I was unhappy in the marriage, I was in it for the duration. I’d already given it twenty-two years, and for the sake of our two beautiful children, I was hoping I could turn things around.

A few days later I drove past a little shop that I felt compelled to go into. It was called Belinda’s Dolphin. It happened to be closed at the time, but I felt a certain urgency about my mission, so I made sure to go back later. I browsed the shop, full of crystals and healing unguents, made an appointment for a massage, and picked up a Whole Earth Catalog on my way out. At home, browsing through the catalog, I saw a woman’s picture. As I looked at her eyes, I knew I had to phone her. She was a psychic.

What followed was the most amazing psychic reading I’d ever had. Indeed, it changed my life. I felt the Universe had guided me to her, and for that reason I took her words to heart. That and the fact that when I left her, I felt for the first time in years that I was in complete and total alignment with the truth of who I was.

One of the things she said to me that day was that my life was like a pretty puzzle with a missing piece, and that the piece that was missing was from the very center. I knew it was true. My life looked very good from the outside — an interesting, successful husband, a beautiful home, two loving, intelligent, creative children — and yet it had a hole at the center where connection should have been. I ended my marriage and embarked on a spiritual journey of fifteen years, during which time my material world gradually collapsed into ruin even as my inner world became greatly enriched.

One day near the end of those fifteen years, as I was preparing to leave California and the life I’d long known, I found a puzzle piece lying next to my tire in the Whole Foods parking lot. I picked it up and thought, “This is the missing piece.” I took it home and photographed it, never dreaming I would use it some day.

Shortly thereafter a new love came into my life, offering a deeper connection than I have ever known. My children grew up and grew strong, and the love that passes between us is nothing short of nourishment. And now you and I have the chance to connect in a meaningful way in these pages.

Today I can say that life is good, and there are no missing pieces.

What distinguishes good advice from bad advice, and how can you tell the difference?

 ADVICE IS OF QUESTIONABLE VALUE WHEN:

 You didn’t ask for it. Unsolicited advice is the result of others wanting you to live as they do. They want you to do things their way, not so much for your benefit, but so they’ll feel comfortable.

 It’s based in fear. Fear-based advice comes when others believe in playing it safe and get queasy when you take risks. That thing you’re about to attempt is something they’d never have the courage to do, and if they wouldn’t take the chance, they don’t think you should.

 It comes with an ultimatum.  Parents often resort to this tactic, insisting a child do something ‘or else.’ This may give the parent temporary relief, but children are resourceful creatures and usually just take their behavior and go underground. This is not to say I don’t believe in consequences, whether natural or parentally imposed. I do. They’re a wonderful teacher. I’m referring to the sort of ultimatum that’s used when parents, especially, have not developed better tools.

 It’s negative. Ever had your balloon popped by someone who’s already done what you’re about to do and can’t wait to tell you how horrible it was? “You’re going on a cruise? I took a cruise once. I was sick the entire time.”

 It just doesn’t feel like ‘you.’ How many times have you nodded politely as someone spelled out a solution you would never undertake in a million years? Maybe it worked for them, but you’re not them.

 YOU KNOW IT’S GOOD ADVICE WHEN:

 It comes without judgment. A good advisor never thinks less of you for the state you’re in, and is only too glad to help you get beyond it.

 You don’t feel obliged to take it, or, said another way, there are no negative consequences for not taking it. The advice was freely given with no expectation that you had to follow it, and you will not lose the other person’s affection or trust if you don’t.

 It helps identify contributing factors without attaching blame. It’s hard to fix a problem if you don’t know what’s causing it. It’s even harder if you get caught up in pointing fingers. Once the causes are identified, it’s important to get on to the solution.

 It presents options and helps identify desired outcomes, so that you can choose. It encourages you to find the best fit for yourself and your life, while honoring your own inner guidance.

 It leaves you feeling better. Either you come away feeling better equipped to handle the problem, or you feel uplifted, empowered, or in some way aligned with your own best self.

You know how sometimes you try to do everything right, and still you get nowhere? It’s perplexing.

Take my so-called writing career. Over the last ten years I’ve had many writing projects in various stages of completion. Novels. Screenplays. The finished ones leave home dressed in crisp manila envelopes, bearing query letters I’ve slaved over as much as I’ve slaved over the manuscripts themselves. I get a nibble here, a nibble there, but nothing that advances me to the next level. Never an agent who says, Let’s go. Never a producer who says, Let’s make this baby.

Still, I keep writing. And struggling. Maybe I shouldn’t say never. Maybe I should say not yet.

The other morning I was at the park, a place I go to be with the songbirds and sit in the sun. I often use this time to confer with the Elements. I tell the angels (and whoever else will listen) exactly what’s on my mind. I pour out my heart and wait for them to pour something back in, some kind of liquid gold that will make it all better. But the answer doesn’t always come that moment.

It was later, as I was walking home, that they spoke to me. They said simply, “You’re not using your power.” I had no idea what they meant.

A few days passed in which I let the message rest, then a series of channeled thoughts came through suggesting that what I do best in this world is use my words to help and heal others. I was reminded that the internet is a great way to reach out and help, and that this would be a right use of my gifts.

I said okay. I actually love helping people, so why not?

And now I’m here, waiting for you to find me.

I ask the Universe to send me only those people who can truly benefit from what I have to offer. May your path and mine cross to the greater and higher good of all concerned. And so it is.