Sean Carroll*, a physicist who explores the universe said, “Life is not a substance, like water or rock; it’s a process, like fire or a wave crashing on the shore. It’s a process that begins, lasts for a while, and ultimately ends. Long or short, our moments are brief against the expanse of eternity.” How does this strike you? Does this view leave you feeling small or even frightened by our insignificance in the vastness of the universe? If our lives are just a fleeting process, how can we make the process as meaningful and fulfilling as possible? How can we make our mortal time here matter and make a lasting impact?

A recent study (http://bit.ly/ClocksAndFun) argues that when leisure activities are scheduled, people report them as being less enjoyable than when such activities take place in the spur of the moment. This makes sense, but only up to a point. After all, who doesn't like spontaneity? Dopamine and anticipated pleasure seem to matter more. 

Much has been written about resilience. Who wouldn’t want to be more resilient if it means being able to bounce back and pick ourselves up after our setbacks in life? With the inevitability of challenges, losses and suffering in life, the capacity to show resilience is clearly important. Knowing that there are well-established practices that strengthen our resilience skills is comforting. But, is being resilient “enough?”

How does loneliness compare to hunger or pain?

We know that satisfying hunger and avoiding pain are deeply wired into our brains and bodies. One drives us to seek food. Pain pushes us to take immediate action in an urgent effort to turn off the sensation.

Our drive to avoid loneliness is no different. 

Fall is here. I am just more than halfway between the date of my father’s passing and the date of his gravestone’s unveiling.

Seasonal changes. Transitions in weather. Transitions in life. They are inevitable, can be instructive, and often operate as necessary signposts that mark our evolving journey through life.