Discovering what it takes to lead a life that counts is something that has always fascinated me. Judging from the people I've met who live with a sense of regret and hopelessness, it's obvious that we often make mistakes in the pursuit of a meaningful life. But it doesn't have to be that way.

So I'm writing a new book. I haven't completely given up on the first book. After all, I have a number of people who are counting on me to write that book. But for now, my focus has to be on where my heart and soul are taking me.

Most of us are gambling on the biggest risk of all: the bet that we can buy the freedom to do what we want later in life. In order to change the world and the less-than-promising course of history, we must do what we love now.

Because you're human, it's normal to formulate opinions based on information you've accumulated up until the present moment. It's natural and necessary in certain situations -- but not when it comes to your life and who you are.

I think we all from time to time experience that things happen more or less as a coincidence. That we end up in a scenario we didn't see coming. And I think many of us contemplate the thought that things could be different.

When we let go of our judgment about where we are and where we think we "should" be, we're able to appreciate our lives, the people around us, and ourselves in a genuine way.

Every day, both in life and at work, people make wrong decisions that could have been avoided. Or they make right decisions, but lack the confidence that lets them do away with stress and proceed with vigor. Are these inalterable facts of life, or is there a remedy?

Amongst my friends, being happy isn't enough. Being successful doesn't cut it. Being in a loving relationship is but part of the plan. They want to leave a mark on the world. It is one of the reasons I love them.

What if our purpose is exactly who we are at this very moment and what we are doing right now? Ask yourself: Which part of me really wants to nail down this elusive life purpose? Is it my mind, my heart, my soul, or my ego?

I learned that this struggle to break from a routine -- to find passion in what you do, to find your voice -- is something we all go through. There is something reassuring, beautiful even, in how human this is.

Change is in the air. Not only is the change of seasons palpable in many places, but in the case of many people I know, life changes are brewing, often showing up in dramatic ways or in the form of an unexpected curveball.

Though seasons are pretty consistent and recognizable when they cycle back through, there is one thing that is different -- sometimes dramatically different: us.

The guidance of our wisdom is always available to us, but at times can be a bit hard to hear amidst the noisy chatter of our fearful thoughts. But once we do begin to hear it and understand its significance, there's no going back.

My getting lost is predictable enough now that my children advise their friends to expect delays, even when I've got the printout from Google maps in hand and a GPS app or two at the ready on my iPhone for backup.

As they say, it's really about the journey -- not the destination. Because once you reach the destination (wherever it may be), there is always the next journey to take. This is called life! And it's wonderful, mysterious, and worth it, no matter how much it may hurt at times.

Each day we wake up, we enter the video game we have chosen for our life. And each day, we become better and better at learning the rules that help us win, no matter how fun or damaging the game is.

Twenty years ago, a divine gift touched my soul and stirred my spirit. While visiting my cousin in California, her then-6-year-old daughter Nikki and I spent a whole glorious day playing dolls.

I've always believed that regret is a central component of adulthood. But many of our regrets are really longings, so we wouldn't want to erase them, because they define who we are.

Perhaps it was the fish, or maybe it just goes with the territory of moving, but I found myself reminiscing on past big events and the bettas who went along with them.

Since Kenny's death, it's taken weeks of self-reflection, giving in to the never-ending tears, and beginning somatic therapy to write even the first sentence here.

Being willing and able to reinvent yourself and your life is a key to happiness. Going forward with a new career choice is sometimes a very necessary part of a successful life.