Three years ago my family and I were homeless. I have six children, and have been married to the love of my life for 20 years.
I decided to take control of my life and for the first time in my 28 years, listen to my own voice -- not what other people thought or what I thought was true from the media.
I realized I had to let the perfectionist in me die a little so I could thrive.
My brain said "move," and my body refused to comply. The next thing I knew was that I was still sitting there on my couch, in the same position, at 9:30 a.m. the next morning, completely dressed.
I was working for a man who didn't understand or appreciate a woman's desire to work from home so she could also be there to raise her children. So I decided to leave a job I loved to pursue my love of writing.
Being on the front lines of my own life without the cushion of a parent between me and my own eventual death brought my goals into focus.
What if we could wear blinders too -- sort of metaphorically -- to keep us focused on our own path without comparing ourselves to others? Could we be calmer and live better, just like the horses? I think so. Here are a few ways to do that.
You can't spend 25 percent of the day at work, 25 percent of the day with your kids, 25 percent of the day with your spouse, and 25 percent of the day taking care of yourself, and still achieve your goals and make sure everyone feels taken care of. It's just not possible.
My eyes hurt from doing nothing but staring at screen after screen all day -- from my laptop to my desktop screen to my iPhone and my iPad, TV screens, movie screens, I realized I was always staring at something other than the world.
My son's smile is brighter than sunshine, and when he flashes it I sometimes feel like I've hit the lottery.
Fourteen years ago, I began teaching history at a public high school in the Bronx. My students and colleagues were awesome, but I could see that the school where I was teaching did not have the same resources as the schools I'd attended. My colleagues and I spent a lot of our own money on copy paper and pencils, but we often couldn't afford the resources that would get our students excited about learning. We'd talk in the teachers' lunchroom about books our students should read, a field trip we wanted to take, or a microscope that would bring science to life. "Crowdfunding" wasn't yet a word, but I figured there were people out there who'd love to help -- if they could see where their money was going. Fourteen years later, more than a million donors have supported projects reaching 10 million students in low-income communities, demonstrating that micro philanthropists can have a macro impact.
When I first heard JCPenney's new tagline "When it Fits, You Feel it," I was reminded of why I don't "fit" JCPenney. It is the same reason why I b...
I've noticed that despite growing social and professional acceptance, introverts are still wildly misunderstood. People may be more open about being introverts, but they cling to assumptions that don't stand up to the test of rigorous evidence. It's time to debunk five myths.
What is really at the heart of a shared economy? I find myself reflecting on this quite a bit after my friend, an advocate of the shared economy movement stayed with me for four days.
I'm delighted that the release of my new book Thrive will include an opportunity to make a difference in the lives of children across the country. As part of the book's rollout, we're partnering with DonorsChoose -- an amazing organization that Fast Company this week called one of the most innovative companies of 2014 -- so that readers who pre-order the book before the March 25 publication date will get a DonorsChoose gift card equal to the book's list price of $26 (even if they paid a discounted price, or $10.99 for the Kindle version). This will be my personal donation. I've been following and championing DonorsChoose for years, and the book's release is an opportunity for me to pay it forward and further support their good work.
As we grow older, we tend to lean on our particular area of strength, honing our capabilities in that area. As we do so, we become attached to that kind of intelligence, and without much conscious thought, we can get stuck in it.