The Ripple Room doesn’t solve the loneliness of being 'sorted'—it offers something better: the permission to finally be unmasked.

I felt a physical tightening in my chest every time someone called these “gift tags.” My body was telling me the message had drifted. Cleaning the mold off the wood was easy; the real work was cleaning the fog off the mission.

By witnessing the raw vulnerability of sixth graders navigating group dynamics, I’ve rediscovered that the heart of the Ripple Practice—and our own creative courage—lies in the brave restraint of offering presence without trying to "fix" the person or the process.

Thirteen days into 2026, I’m embracing stillness, presence, and the simple practices that make life feel truly enough.

A hands-on workshop that invites adults into intuitive art-making through play, curiosity, and release from self-judgment.

I don’t need fifty thousand people. Having you here is enough.

How I traded followers for friends by leaving social media. The honest costs, unexpected gains, and what life looks like on the other side.

Not everything meaningful scales. Not every ripple is visible. But that doesn’t mean it isn’t working.

She got the mom I was ready to be and one who’s evolving with her.

45 minutes of zero decision-making and 100% playing, those leaves had become nine monoprint tokens.

What felt like a burden to live up to back then has become a truth I now embody—but differently.

I am here to witness an unfolding and to let people know they’re not alone.

If you’ve ever wondered whether a small gesture matters, let this be your answer. It does. It ripples. And it returns in ways you can’t predict.

We get to choose whether we build funnels or wells, whether we sell transformation or invite people to find it themselves.

At a neighbor’s dinner party, I finally claimed my creative identity—out loud, without shrinking.

Slow down and rediscover the art of connection. Little Tokens Big Ripples invites you to send snail mail across oceans, forging authentic bonds in a fast world—one handwritten letter at a time.

My desire for the kind of silent presence my pup offers isn’t failure.

The ripples are there. They’re just traveling at a different speed than I expected, arriving through different channels than I planned, touching hearts in ways that don’t show up in analytics.

There’s a gap between believing in something and watching others pass it by.

What I want—what I've always wanted—is meaning without virality, metrics or conversions.