My knees aren’t wobbly yet, but this is about the time on any Saturday night when a glaze spreads over my eyes. Tonight, I’m more annoyed than entertained. I’m like a spinning top: where and when I’ll stop, I’m not really sure. I can’t spot one woman I’m interested in talking to. My ego keeps yelling at me, “No way, not good enough,” while my empathy reminds me, “You can’t do that. You know how that would end.” It’s sort of ridiculous when thought about out of context, but I trust my eyes, even if they are vodka-dipped.

An hour later, the top finally stumbles. “So sorry,” I say.

She looks up, smiling ear to ear. “It’s okay.” 

I ask, “Have I seen you here before?” 

“I don’t think so,” she says. 

“Well, hi, my name is Doug.” And just like that I’m spinning again….

You want to discuss happiness, right?

There’s a place we must start. Something uncomfortable I must share with you.

You’re going to die one day.

This is not a new idea. It’s actually not an idea at all. It’s a basic truth. One you’ll see or have seen pop up a lot in my work.

You see, happiness is not about what you do for work, how much money you have in the bank, or finding a life long partner. Happiness is about living. Living is about choices. And there will always be more ways to live than the one way you’re currently living. Universally, there’s no better teacher of living than death. Death enables appreciation for life. It forces you to understand there will be a finality to your life. So my method for being happy requires you to face the fact that you’re going to die and realize you have some choices to make before that happens. Don’t feel overwhelmed, though. My method is quite simple, you’ll see…

It was day four of seven-day trip to Miami, and there I was: run down from travel, lack of sleep, and probably one too many vodka drinks. I was experiencing some kind of brain fog combined with lightheadedness, yet I found myself walking into a pool party at the Surfcomber Hotel in South Beach. There’s something about Miami that just seems to melt my brain, light my heart on fire, and leave me burning on pure emotion. Maybe it’s my most human form.

As I shuffled through the crowd, I had my own personal drummer inside my head banging away on the snares, hi-hats, and cymbals. He was using my cerebrum as the bass drum, and I was wondering how long I’d be able to take it. Then, of the corner of my left eye, I spotted the silhouette of an attractive woman. So I did what any single guy would do: I took a second look and side-stepped a few feet closer. It was on the third look that I realized I’d seen her before. As I squinted to make sure I was seeing clearly, she turned her head at the same time, and it was like a scene straight out of a movie. My ex-girlfriend, who I hadn’t seen in over five years, was looking me straight in the eye…

Have you seen A Star Is Born?

Did it make you cry?

I watched it for the first time on a recent cross-country flight. My buddy was sound asleep next to me, and there I was doing everything I could to prevent myself from breaking down during the final scene. I even removed my earbuds because I couldn’t bear to listen. It was as moving a story as any I’ve watched, read, or listened to in a long time.

When my friend finally woke up, I asked him, “Did you see that movie?”

“Yup, it’s a tough one.”

To say I was fascinated by this movie would be an understatement. I thought about it all night. I couldn’t let it go. And everyone I talked to had the same reaction. This movie has moved everyone…