Archive for February, 2012

the power of group

February 29th, 2012

Every Wednesday night at 7pm a whole-hearted group of men gathers in my office for 90 minutes of relationships–relationship with oneself and relationships with one another.  As Brene Brown tells us, we are “biologically wired for connection,” and I see this time and time again in my therapy groups as individuals collectively work on forging deeper connections.  Groups have been part of my practice since 1992, and today I host a weekly men’s group and a weekly co-ed group for clients who are ready for the “post-graduate” experience that group offers.  Don’t get me wrong–group can be incredibly funny and lighthearted at times, but it’s also one of the most honest and sacred experiences as individuals work diligently to create more authenticity and groundedness within themselves.  I always feel inspired by clients who choose this venue to work on themselves and feel privileged to be part of their journey.

Next week I’ll be attending the American Group Psychotherapy Association (AGPA) conference in New York as I continue to stretch and grow after all these years.  One of the fringe benefits of this profession allows me to continue learning and bringing fresh, new perspectives back to my group.  If you would like more information about groups nationally, visit the AGPA website at or here in Los Angeles at www.


February 25th, 2012

I was debating whether or not to post about Whitney Houston but realized in spite of all the media attention, we each have our own perceptions of this tremendous loss.  Whitney was less than a year older than me and she grew up on the other side of the garden state many exits up the turnpike from me.  From the time she came on the scene I knew she was a force to be reckoned with but never imagined that her life would deteriorate in front of us over these past years.

Because addiction is a dis-ease of isolation, I imagine she unfortunately experienced profound loneliness at the top.  As a result, she lost touch with herself and those who loved her which eventually lead to her public decline.

Like many great artists,  Whitney seemed to self-destruct in front of our eyes and nothing could be done as her train continued to derail.  In retrospect, I wish she had found the 12 steps or a mentor who would’ve helped her back on track at times when she was lost, but this was not to be the case. After watching parts of her funeral, I was reminded how receiving the love around us is one of the antidotes to addiction.  I imagine that Whitney never really found out how to do just that.