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Coexist

It is a new year, a new month, a new day, a new moment. Just as it is in every moment we exist. A lot has happened here in the past six months, and as I dust off this blog space, I want to talk about the reality of coexistence. Not just the bumper sticker, but the truth of our presence here in the universe.

That seems like a really big topic, but it feels right for our mission at Kind World Publishing. As we work to connect the world through stories, the truth underlying that mission is that we all have right to write our own story, to share our story, to hold our individual space.

Movements afoot right now to take that away—through book banning, through human rights abuses, through threats and fearmongering and outright fascism—all work against our coexistence. When groups of people attempt to force singular beliefs onto others, they are working in outright denial of the universal truth of coexisting.

But the reality of coexistence surrounds us every day, in the most obvious ways. We have more than one hobby, eat more than one food. We each hold more than one role (parent, sibling, friend, child, coworker). We love more than one person. We are each more than one thing.

It is critical to our collective movement toward peace that we hold space for each other, that we protect the multitudes within ourselves and among our humanity, that we share our stories, that we coexist.

My sincerest thanks to each of you for the tremendous support and enthusiasm you gave us, our books, and our mission in 2022. We had an amazing year of amazing reviews and reception. As a bootstrapping entrepreneur and parent, sometimes I was overwhelmed. It was a year of reminders that good things and hard things can coexist.

In 2023, we are holding space for the beautiful new books we have on the way, alongside the energy to push back against those who want to silence stories. Good work and hard work can coexist.

We are grateful to share this space with you. Thank you for striving with us to create a world in which all children can safely coexist.

#peace #kindness #coexist #createakindworld #supporthumanrights #supportfreespeech #FReadom #literacy #gratitude #raiseyourvoice #yourvoicematters #conversationstarters #kindworldpublishing

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We Are All Struggling

Bottom view of winter snowy trees in the blue sky. Frosty branches with hoarfrost twigs in a sunny day.

At least, that is what Twitter tells me. Instagram tells me that we are in this together and with enough inspirational quotes, we’ll get by. And Pinterest offers a multitude of ways in which to craft, project, pinboard, or otherwise organize our way through these times. (I don’t know what Facebook would tell me to do, as I avoid it like the… oh.)

Social media is a dangerous place to get a sense of the collective conscious. Of course, this has always been true, even before mass messages were sent through satellite connections.

But. People are struggling. It is winter in half the world, after all. And it is January everywhere, which comes with expectations to do better. On top of a medical pandemic, we are also awash in a pandemic of attempted authoritarianism driven by greed and fear. Societies are divided. People have died, have become disabled, have lost loved ones, or have lost touch with each other. Many feel as if they have lost touch with themselves. And kids sense and see all of this.

I haven’t written much about our collective struggle; it has been covered ad nauseum. I have not found much useful solace among the shrill pieces of complaint or reflection or advice or finger pointing. The cynicism becomes tiring. The advice feels hollow.

Increasingly, as I seek ways to motivate our family through a space that has seemingly lost all points of reference, I find myself turning to things untouched by our self-inflicted state of messy human existence. Yesterday morning, the nearly full moon was still up and brilliantly shining across a subzero walk. The moon carries on.

On Monday, a Cooper’s hawk silently watched us as we cross-country skied our way around the small lakes.

Last week, I spied a red fox slipping cautiously and gracefully through the woods behind our home. Nature carries on.

The days are slowly getting brighter again.

It is nearly February.

Time carries on. Even when we feel we’ve lost touch with it.

I do not have advice for you, reader. Only empathy and patience, and the sharing of what I’m doing right now. I ask myself on the long days: Have you hugged the kids? Are you hungry? Tired? Cold? What is one small thing you can do right now that brings a sense of comfort or accomplishment or rest?

I am so grateful to be doing this work, to be publishing books like The Struggle Bus (a timely read for us all), and simply to be here. Every day, I remind myself: this is enough.