"It's not how much we give but how much love we put into giving."
- Mother Teresa
Giving is about what leaves my hands. It's also about the attention I bring to the offering.
This pretty box was folded for a celebration and will hold something small but meaningful. It has been lovingly shaped to honor both what's inside, and my esteem for the receiver.
Today I'm practicing giving by reflecting on what it means to wrap something — an object, a moment, or even a feeling — with care.
"We are clearly in a lot of emergencies right now. They demand action. But action demands thought and thoughtfulness: who are we, what are our values, our goals, our allies, our possibilities, and our powers?"
- Rebecca Solnit
In my origami practice, the action begins the moment I stop deliberating and start making thoughtful decisions.
This little heart, folded from a dictionary page, started as a way to use up a scrap of paper. But when I finished and saw the word pulse on it's surface I felt like it was also a message to my Self: action is the heartbeat of nonviolence.
I started to think about all the ways nonviolent action is like a pulse:
Today I'm practicing action by letting the answers to these questions guide my choices and evolution: Who am I, what are my values, goals, allies, possibilities, and powers?
In modular origami, equality isn't an idea — it's a requirement. It's material and measurable.
When folding modular or symmetrical forms, the beauty comes from balance.
Every module has to start out exactly the same size, be folded with the same precision, given the same care. If I rush one unit, the whole structure tells on me.
Equality here shows up as patience, as repetition, as willingness to offer the same respect again and again.
The challenge is consistency; the delight is when the whole becomes visibly balanced.
Today, I'm practicing equality, in origami and in life, by meeting repetitive tasks with curiosity and patience.
Illusion cubes designed by David Mitchell. Published in his book, Sticky Note Origami.
Advocacy isn’t necessarily noisy. It can be a quiet acknowledgement of something noteworthy.
Take this note pad sheet folded into a speech bubble. It isn’t shouting. It’s held open for something kind or helpful to be said.
When I fold, I practice care for attention itself. I make something slow in a fast world, tactile in a complex one.
When I speak about it, it’s not to assert or assign — it’s to say: this has given me focus and joy, maybe it could for you too.
The nonviolence aspect here is deliberate. Choosing words the way I choose folds: on a good day, that means with patience, respect, and an eye toward what could become without being forced.
This is soft advocacy, certainly. Not a push, but an invitation. Not a demand, but a demonstration.
Because some things don’t need defending. It's enough to make them visible, and trust them to speak for themselves.
Today, my practice of advocacy includes inviting, tending, making space, and letting people discover what fits.
Speech Bubble designed and taught by Kamikey on YouTube
"May your choices reflect your hopes, not your fears."
- Nelson Mandela
Choice shows up even in the most structured moments. In origami, every fold is a decision: this way or that.
This traditional masu box has a divider insert folded from a separate square of atlas paper, making it a perfect vessel for presenting a variety of treats or cherishing a collection.
What would you choose to fill it with?
Today, I’m practicing choice by noticing the direction I take — and why.
“The way you do anything is the way you do everything.”- Thich Nhat Hanh
Honor in origami is how I treat what’s been entrusted to me.
Every choice — the paper, the pattern, the folds, the time — matters.
Each square, each hand that will receive it, each minute spent folding is part of the offering.
Today, I’m practicing honor by giving this practice—and the sharing of it—the care, gratitude, and attention it deserves.
"The way we see the world shapes the way we treat it."
- David Suzuki
Ecology reminds us: nothing exists alone. We’re part of a vast, buzzing web.
I recently learned that flies aren’t just clean-up crews — they’re pollinators too. Apples, grapes, even hops for your beer? Thank a fly.
Today, I’m practicing ecology by noticing the world from a different perspective.
