As I move into the New Year, I do so with two conflicting feelings: Anticipation, because a new year always beckons with enticing possibilities; and a heavy heart, because my very dear friend, Virginia Giordano, will not be a part the year unfolding. Virginia died on Saturday, from Pancreatic cancer. Only three weeks passed from the moment she was diagnosed and the time she took her last breath. Three short weeks, and she was gone. Virginia is the second close friend I’ve lost to sudden illness within the past six months. The first was my best friend from 10th grade, …

The holiday season is full of dueling dualities that can often prove confusing. For example, you can feel both exhilarated by the hustle and bustle of shopping and socializing, and overwhelmed by it at the same time. Or you can feel both grateful for the friends and family that surround you, and wistful for times past shared with folks no longer on this earthly plane. Dualities are a certainly part of the two things I am most passionate about: Deepening and widening your presence on this planet by fulfilling your passionate purpose; and using your words to change the world …

As a young actress, I was ridiculously envious of another young actress I’ll call Madeline. Madeline was short, cute and perky. And she seemed to be having the acting career—and thus the life– I wanted (Starring roles in Broadway Plays! Lead roles in interesting, prestigious films! The acclaim and adoration of A-list agents, producers, directors and colleagues!) I wanted to be Madeline. For a brief time (and I’m embarrassed to admit this) I even tried to dress, walk and talk like Madeline—you can imagine how well that worked out. Madeline was, of course, completely unaware that I was I constantly …

The first time I stepped up to a microphone, I was eleven years old. I had bravely signed up to sing a song called Froggy Went a Courtin’ all by myself in the talent show at summer camp. The microphone loomed like a leggy, silver bug, and as I stepped up to it I felt very, very small–until I sang my first note into its shiny face. I couldn’t have been more surprised–or more thrilled–at how very, very big my voice sounded as it bounded out of the loudspeakers. Ever since, I’ve had a deep respect and appreciation for microphones. …

We all have days when we’re broadsided by Fear, which masquerades as the Blues and the Blahs. Days when the last thing we feel like doing is leaping out of bed and conquering the world. When hiding in the basement with a pint of chocolate Haagen Daz ice cream seems like the most manageable option in an unmanageable world. And we lie there, eyes resolutely shut, twisted in the sheets, thinking about all those people relying on us to eschew our blues and get a move on: Bosses. Children. Employees. We have obligations, darn it all. And somehow, impossible as …

Whenever I launch into creating a keynote presentation, my office temporarily turns chaotic: Notes, scribbled on pieces of paper toweling or crumpled bank deposit slips, skitter across my desk; drafts of previous keynote presentations flicker on my dual computer screens; folders of additional notes, taken while assessing my client’s needs, explode across my computer keyboard; my acoustic guitar leans against my desk, within grabbing distance; and piles of papers that were important yesterday, are suddenly irrelevant, crowded to the corners by my latest obsession. This chaotic abandon is what my husband calls “My Process.” I go through it each time …

“I really want to be a better public speaker,” she said. “I want to be a more confident, more relaxed and more engaging when I speak to groups.” “Well,” I asked, “How often do you speak to groups?” “Hardly ever,” she replied, shrugging. “I tend to avoid public speaking like the plague.” “That’s going to have to change,” I said. “ To be a better speaker, you’re going to have to speak publicly—as often as you possibly can.” I’ve had variations of the above conversation too many times people who approach me for presentation skills coaching. They talk a mean …

Sitting in the chair facing me, delivering her assigned presentation, my coaching client was relaxed and confident. Then I asked her to stand up and deliver her presentation from the little wooden stage in the corner of my office, lit by a bank of floodlights. “OH my GOD!” she breathed, “I am suddenly so nervous!”Standing in front of me, presentation in her hand, she fidgeted and stammered, her body stiff and awkward. The more I watched her in silence, the more she squirmed. “Why,” she squealed, “is it so much harder when I have to present standing up than when …

“Oh please like me! Oh please cast me!” These were the thoughts most often whirling in my head when, as young actress in New York, I stepped in front of the directors, producers and casting directors auditioning me for roles in theatrical shows I longed to win. “Oh please like me! Oh please cast me!” The word “please” is the operative word in those sentences. As in “Please let me please you” or “I will do anything in my power to please you, to win your approval, even if it kills me.” Without exception, when I led out with pleasing …

Multiple award-winning actress, Cicely Tyson (Roots; Sounder;The Autobiography of Miss Jane PIttman) has a very simple way of determining whether a script is right or not. If her skin tingles when she reads it, she knows it's something she's meant to do. If, however, her stomach churns, she knows the script is not for her. Either her skin tingles or her stomach churns, one or the other. And she always goes with what makes her skin tingle. We've all been there, at the cusp of choice: Do I go left or right? Do I take this job or not? Do …