In choosing this, I change how I show up in the world. And perhaps, in small and quiet ways, that makes the world around me a kinder place.
Author: Roxanne
When the Fire Came, So Did the Good
What moves a person to act when the fire isn’t at their own door? What compels a person to step into harm’s way and experience such extreme sacrifice for his neighbors and community members
Life Between the Silos: Only Part of the Story
I live in rural America where silos stand tall against the skyline of farm ground and small towns. They are practical structures, useful for storing grain and keeping things contained. Yet the word
Everyone’s Different, Everyone’s the Same
I traveled to the city and rode the subway. As I looked around, I saw no one that looked like me. Beautiful brown tones in every variation surrounded me, and my own lack of tone stood out. I felt d
When perceptions aren’t the whole story
I’ve always found it fascinating that siblings can grow up the same family, share the same experiences, and walk away with entirely different stories about what happened. My sister and I are only
The Light of Love
I zoomed in immediately. From behind, the resemblance was uncanny. The thought ran through my mind: my mom had joined them on their trip–quietly present, watching from a few steps away.
Life in the Margins
Maybe it was a birthday party everyone else got invited to but you. The sleepover you heard about on Monday morning. The playground game where you stood waiting, hoping not to be picked last.
Not One Way: Brushing, Rinsing, and Listening
If people close to me can hold such differing views on something as simple as rinsing after brushing, then no wonder an entire nation struggles with differing perspectives on far more complex issue
The Story That Plays on Repeat
What’s the story that plays on repeat in your mind, the one you’ve carried with you for years?
Extending Compassion Inward
And so the vicious cycle continued–self-criticism. I realized how deeply ingrained this habit is. I am far more comfortable being hard on myself than allowing space for imperfection. I rarely per