It was 6:25 am when I left San Francisco to head to Vermont to keynote the women’s conference Zest Fest.  My Virgin America flight to Boston went smoothly enough, and in spite of the gusty winds, dense fog, and heavy rain, the plane landed with just a few bumps. But it turns out I only had an hour to transfer to my connecting flight, a little puddle jumper that would take me to Lebanon, New Hampshire, where the conference coordinator would pick me up and drive me to Fairlee, Vermont.

As an MD, I’ve watched too many of my colleagues yank out anti-depressant samples every time a patient starts to cry. So on behalf of physicians everywhere, let me apologize for our trigger-happy prescription-writing behavior. I don’t mean to diminish the pain someone who is depressed might experience. But tears are healthy. Sadness doesn’t always need treatment. And it’s important to remember that the pain muscle and the joy muscle are the same. If you can’t feel one, you won’t feel the other.

That said, clinical depression sucks, and if you’re someone who suffers from it, my heart goes out to you. I’m in no way intending to diss anti-depressants or suggest you ignore your doctor’s advice. I know anti-depressants can be life-saving for people. But unless you’re suicidal or otherwise in dire need of urgent medication, before you dose up on side-effect laden pharmaceuticals, it’s worth considering some natural treatments that might help lift your mood.

Thanks to Tama Kieves, author of This Time I Dance: Creating the Work You Love, for another fabulous post -- this time, on what it means to make 2011 the year of living your wildest dreams! Enjoy!

Can you believe this year is almost over? That’s how fast life goes! 

Want to make next year a year you will never forget? Let’s make 2011 be The Year of Living Your Wildest Dreams. Maybe that sounds nice, but also spurs some skepticism or frustration.

This morning I sat thinking that I forgotten something. Then suddenly I paled and realized that I forgot to post one of my articles here for Owning Pink, still brooding on the other! I immediately got taken over by all sorts of fears with my inner critic running rampant -- telling me how worthless I was for forgetting, and how I should be ashamed, and how I'm not really a writer. I just sat there and listened to that voice, just listening, not feeling. Then I smiled.