A humbling observation on marriage and inequality.
Photo by Alicia Reiner/Flickr, CC BY-NC-ND 2.0
I am from fire.
I’m from the fire my father had for life and the fire my mother had for living. His was fueled by parties, drugs, wit, and self-involvement, hers by longing, anger, spite, and sweat. He was vivid; he hit her skin like sunshine and she finally felt warmth from an external source. She smoldered. He was curious to know how her sweat turned to the steam that hovered over her skin. What was her heat source? How could someone burn so hot without catching fire?
"It's a prime time of my life, and I basically gave it away." A film that explores one family's story on the high stakes of caregiving for their parents.
(photo: Leandro Pérez/Flickr, cc by-nc-nd 2.0)
I never used to go anywhere without my cell phone. It was not only a means of communication, but my sole timepiece, and not knowing the time made me crazy.
That all changed one afternoon when my oldest son was two years old. After four years of living in the Southwest and its two seasons of hot and hotter, we moved to the upper Midwest. I couldn’t wait to experience the change in seasons, so one crisp October day I packed up my son and a picnic lunch and headed to a nearby state park to see some fall colors.
When we arrived, I unfastened the buckles of his car seat, retrieved our lunch, and instinctively reached for my cell phone. Then I paused.
I picked up Sylvia Boorstein's lovely book That's Funny, You Don't Look Buddhistyears ago and loved it. Then, three years ago, I found myself on a panel discussion with her and loved her in person.
Members of the audience were asked to write questions for her on index cards. Here's a glimpse at what was on their minds.
A new mother reflects how she'll relate to mainstream society while raising her daughter.
Krista reflects on her conversation with Rabbi Sandy Sasso and the insight that "children can make the essence of religion come alive" and "may ultimately teach us far more than we teach them."
“Now men can have it all — a successful career and being a responsible daddy.”
—Birgitta Ohlsson, Sweden’s Minister of EU-Affairs and a mother-to-be
StoryCorps's animated short of a mother and her son with Asperger's syndrome reminds us of the lessons Paul Collins shared about raising his autistic son.
"I knew that we didn't have wealth to leave you guys. So I always thought that my responsibility was to leave you a legacy of honesty, integrity, and education."
This is a personal entry, in the spirit of the “Your Voices, Your Stories” door we open to you each week. I hope my experience will prompt you to share your own stories and reflections.
I’m a melting pot of religious identity: a lapsed Catholic, sometimes agnostic theist, envious of Buddhists, awed naturalist, live-by-the-golden-rule spiritual seeker. I worry that this may be off-putting, but maybe that’s my guilt as a “lapsed” Catholic.
Studying neuroscience brings new insight to a mother's bond with her child.
A poet reflects on the choices her family has made to live a simpler life in NYC.
Sometimes forgiveness comes easiest to the youngest of us.
One of the most difficult aspects of working at Minnesota Public Radio is that I often don’t get a chance to listen to public radio on the weekdays, especially during working hours. Thanks to a new baby boy, I was actually able to listen to a documentary on Alzheimer’s disease by a colleague and former producer at SOF, Brian Newhouse.
It’s a wonderfully crafted piece that’s full of facts and figures and scientific experts discussing the problems and approaches to treating and curing the disease. But, the part that sang to me, is a follow-up interview with a man in his 40s who describes the way he communicates with his wife now that he is home-bound: