Years ago, I experienced a bout of depression that sent me on the hunt for a therapist. After several tries (and many frogs kissed), I did find a psychiatrist with whom I visited a few times. But I was not telling her the real truth. Something prevented me from opening up. Fortunately, I found someone else: Dr. Cynthia Grace, a licensed clinical psychologist with an immense résumé, who gave of herself as an essential part of her being. A proven leader in academic and clinical

Before you answer, let’s take a moment to acknowledge those not joining us in this new year. Many have made their transitions in 2022, plunging us into the ministry of death, and flooding us with feelings of sadness and fear. The passing of personal loved ones and those in the public eye can be jolting as we confront the prospect of continuing life without them. Even more than the feeling of grief is the tsunami of questions about our own mortality: Am I ready? Have I

Several years ago, at a private dinner during the March on Washington Film Festival, I heard Dr. Clarence Jones, personal attorney, and advisor to Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. tell this story. Jones, Harry Belafonte, and Stanley Levison were among King’s closest advisors, helping to plan strategy, write speeches, organize events and raise funds. They were his “kitchen cabinet.” One day, Belafonte called Jones to say that a major banker was donating tens of thousands of dolla

The stained cotton sack dates back to the mid-1800s. From 2016 to 2021, it was displayed at the National Museum of African American History and Culture, on loan from Middleton Place, a historical landmark in South Carolina. According to the description embroidered on the sack by a Ruth Middleton in 1921: “My great grandmother Rose mother of Ashley gave her this sack when she was sold at age 9 in South Carolina it held a tattered dress 3 handfulls of pecans a braid of Roses

When I was growing up, my mother had three sets of dishes. There was the everyday set, the one for company and Sunday dinners, and the one for very special occasions. In fact, those occasions so special, I can’t recall our ever using them. They weren’t washed. They were dusted. One summer, a couple from “home” (Guyana) was visiting us on a tourist visa of several weeks. The wife made breakfast for her husband one morning and reached for the company dishes. I corrected her, an

The transitional nature of death was all around us last week, and I find it liberating. The great Civil Rights champion, Hon. John H. Lewis died Friday evening. Earlier on the same day another movement stalwart, C.T. Vivian passed away. My friend and brother of several decades past in the Moorish Science Temple, Sunni Karnatu-Bey, made his transition earlier last week. And last night I watched the Netflix film The Old Guard , about a small team of warrior immortals, directed

By now you probably know someone, or know someone who knows someone who is positive or has died from the virus. And even if you don’t, you’ve seen the virtual funerals, body bags, refrigerator truck morgues, plain wooden caskets and mass graves on the news. As a society, we are separated from the process of death. Most of us don’t hunt or butcher our own meat. The meat we eat comes to us cleaned, cut and wrapped in clear plastic cellophane. We don’t prepare the bodies of ou

It hit me like a dull thud in the chest. Then the sharp thrust at the sudden surprising loss, followed by roiling crescendo of grief for his family. That’s how the news of the deaths of Kobe Bryant and his young daughter Gianna felt. It’s because he was so young, and she was a child. It’s because we could all imagine the moments of terror preceding the crash of the helicopter. It’s because millions around the world looked up to him, identified with his meticulous drive, his

One of the wonderful things about living in New York City is that you can get practically anything delivered. Got home too late to start cooking dinner? Order in. No washing machine in your apartment or laundry room in your building? The laundromat down the street will send someone to pick up your dirty clothes, wash them, fold them, and bring them back. Too cold to go outside, or just don’t feel like hauling groceries on the subway or bus? Fire up the laptop and order fre

I’ll bet you’re already sick of all the talk about resolutions (to keep, or not to keep), and how to strategically plan your week, your year, your business, your life. The diet folks and fitness centers have been gunning for you to sign up since Thanksgiving. They’re literally banking on you to start January with a surge of ambition, only to peter out by March. Then comes the guilt, shame and self-blame when you do. Our inner critics get amped on steroids, replaying the tape

Think of all the people we assume misbehave. Toddlers and children misbehave. The very definition of the word teenager is misbehavior. In-laws are big misbehavers. So are old people. They’re downright crotchety. Look at how husbands are portrayed in sitcoms - they’re clueless and misbehavers. And let’s not even go there about bosses. If you’re an employee, your boss is probably an ego –tripping, power mad pain, at least in your opinion. And for business owners,

When we hear that expression, “grace under fire” it evokes images of resiliency, the ability to withstand extreme stress while remaining calm. In fact, “Never let ‘em see you sweat“was the tagline of a popular TV commercial. The underlying thought was to avoid demanding or strained situations at all costs. And then, when you can’t avoid them, try to look cool. But what if the stressful situation itself is the gift? What if it’s the very doorway through which we grow s

This year three of my girlfriends buried their mothers. When you lose a parent, it feels like the roof has been taken off your house and you are alone and unprotected against the elements. This was the second parent for all of them, and so the feeling of being exposed to the wind and sky and an unknown future was doubly acute. I could certainly relate, having also witnessed the passing of both my parents. And I say this with the most curious and telling absence of feeling