Sangha of Auspicious Companions

The Cab Driver Who Gets Paid with Time

A taxi driver in Hiroshima keeps his daughter’s graduation photo on the dashboard. It’s a reminder of the choice that transformed their relationship. Years ago, when she was young, she told him something that pierced through everything: “I remember mom reading to me. I remember grandma cooking. I don’t remember you.” He was a well-paid engineer then, working late nights and weekends, but her words made him quit and become a cab driver so he could control his hours and be present for what remained of her childhood. His family thought he was foolish to walk away from security and status, yet his definitive “no” to whether he has regrets is immediate: “Money comes and goes. Time only goes.”

Be The Change

Give of your time today. Step-it-up by thinking of someone in your life whose presence shaped you. Send them a message naming one specific memory you carry because they were there and present for you.

Unsubscribe from this email

A Hummingbird at Every Crossroads

Like the prolific hummingbird pollinator he loves, Vasco Gaspar flitted from singing in a band to studying psychology, happiness, mindfulness, meditation, and more, asking himself, “what is life wanting to live through you?” In meditation, he learned to wait, trusting his heart to alert him when something didn’t feel right such as a choice to give away a book instead of selling it, to quit a corporate job, or refuse a lucrative job that was not aligned with his values. He also learned to wait for his heart’s inspiration – a signal like a tiny bird, hovering, as if to say, “Yes. This way.” In dire circumstances, an opportunity miraculously appeared where “every single criterion they asked for was something I had gathered since the moment I quit my job and stepped into the unknown.” From there, Vasco was able to begin pollinating all he had gathered into awareness-based trauma-informed healing and the awakening of higher consciousness for human flourishing.

Be The Change

Appreciate the pollen you have collected in your life. In some small way, begin pollinating the flowering of what life wants to live through you.

This Week’s DailyGood Digest

This past week’s inspirations reveal the subtle threads of kindness and change weaving through our lives.

We explored the profound nature of compassion, reminding us that it is the greatest form of love humans can offer. This sentiment was echoed in the transformative story of a mother’s forgiveness, where the act of forgiving the person responsible for her son’s death healed a deep wound. The unexpected journey of a kindergarten teacher who became the guardian of 200 king penguins underlines the idea that actions speak louder than opinion. Neuroscientist Dr. Richie Davidson invited us to the revelation that when the mind sees clearly, new paths to human flourishing emerge. The story of a 73-year-old achieving her lifelong dream to become a doctor is a testament to creating one’s opportunities. A community of volunteers showed us that art helps us find and lose ourselves simultaneously, while a generous commencement speaker paid off student loans for the graduating class. Finally, the simplicity of a “Grandma Stand” in New York City’s Central Park reminded us of the pure gift of attention. Each story this week weaves a tapestry of kindness, resilience, and transformation.

Join The Community

If you enjoy good news stories and want to help change the media landscape, join our volunteer team to curate, edit, spread the good! Login and get started.

Native Plants and a Quiet Revolution in Relating to Land

What was once dismissed as weeds is now flying off shelves at plant nurseries across the country, as gardeners rediscover that working with nature rather than against it offers something both practical and profound. At Chicago’s Kilbourn Park, over 2,300 people lined up for the annual plant sale — double the usual attendance — with native species making up nearly one in five plants sold. “I’ve watched this for 44 years, from almost zero to now,” says Neil Diboll, whose Wisconsin native plant nursery has seen sales multiply from thirteen thousand to hundreds of thousands annually. The shift reflects a quiet revolution in how people relate to their land: choosing plants with deep roots that prevent flooding, support vanishing pollinators like Monarch butterflies, and thrive without constant intervention. As one volunteer puts it, “We’re not fighting against the climate here. We’re working with it.”

Be The Change

Today, take a walk around your neighborhood or yard and notice one plant you’ve always dismissed as a “weed” — perhaps that persistent dandelion, clover, or milkweed pushing through the sidewalk crack. Pause and consider what native pollinators might depend on it, how its deep roots might be preventing flooding, or what it reveals about the landscape that existed here long before lawns. This small shift from judgment to curiosity is where ecological gardening begins.

Endangered Butterflies Are Thriving Behind Bars

In a greenhouse beside a low security women’s prison in Washington state, incarcerated women are raising Taylor’s checkerspot butterflies one by one, tracking egg clusters, monitoring larvae through months of growth, and contributing to the recovery of a species that has lost 97 percent of its habitat. For Margaret Taggart, who is serving a three-year sentence, the meticulous work as a Butterfly Technician has sparked something unexpected: “The education portion of this program has really stirred me up to want to learn more and to pursue a degree, which is something I haven’t done before,” she says softly. Since 2011, the Sustainability in Prisons Project has helped release 80,000 caterpillars into restored prairies while offering participants college credits and a glimpse of purpose that prison rarely provides. The conditions that allow a butterfly to survive — care, stability, the right environment — turn out to be remarkably similar to those that support human transformation.

Be The Change

Today, tend to something small with the patience you’d give a creature that cannot speak: a houseplant, a garden seedling, even a patch of weeds pushing through pavement. As you do, notice what it asks of you: attention, consistency, the willingness to see growth that happens too slowly to measure in a single glance.

The Sight of Three Stripes

A busload of blind children rises at dawn, too excited to sleep before their maybe once-in-a-year field trip. Among them is Asha — mute, seven or eight, hair bunched under a maroon cap — who playfully discovers she can avoid walking by standing atop a volunteer’s feet. Through temple visits, river splashing, and carnival rides, she claims this volunteer as her anchor. On the evening bus ride home, a luminous scene emerges. Asha wakes and works her way up the aisle, feeling the legs of sleeping passengers until she finds the right pair: track pants with three raised stripes. “Her shoulders relaxed and she clambered onto my lap where she quickly fell asleep”. They ride home this way — hand in hand, his sciatic nerve screaming, neither one moving. Love, it turns out, doesn’t need eyes to see or words to speak. It just needs three stripes and the willingness to stay still.

Be The Change

Today, be someone’s anchor without announcement. Hold space for another person — a child, an elder, a stranger — even when it’s uncomfortable, even when your own body protests. Stay present past the point of convenience.

Meeting the Man Responsible for Her Son’s Death

Joan Scourfield’s son, James, died from a single punch over a pair of sunglasses, leaving her with nothing but rage and unanswered questions about the man who killed him. Through a restorative justice program, she eventually met Jacob Dunne, the man responsible for the fatal punch. In their face-to-face meeting, she found not the monster from the mugshot but “a vulnerable young man” who wanted to answer for what he’d done. Her forgiveness came gradually — not from erasing the past, but from watching Jacob transform his life and realizing that her own bitterness “would not end well.” Today they share stages together, speaking to young people about violence and redemption, a collaboration Joan sees as honoring her son’s legacy of helping others from tough backgrounds. She distinguishes carefully between forgiving Jacob for the death itself and forgiving the punch, a nuance that reveals how forgiveness need not be absolute to set someone free.

Be The Change

Today, think of someone whose actions have hurt you, and ask yourself one genuine question that you’ve never been able to answer about what happened. Simply write the question down and notice whether naming what you truly need to know shifts something inside.

How a Kindergarten Teacher Became the Accidental Guardian of 200 King Penguins

When king penguins began nesting on Cecilia Durán Gafo’s windswept Chilean farm in 2010, she watched tourists dress them in caps for selfies and saw the colony collapse from 90 birds to just eight within a year. The 72-year-old former kindergarten teacher began spending her days on the frozen beach with a thermos and sandwich, standing guard. “I’d spend the whole day, frozen to the bone … making sure people didn’t disturb the penguins,” she recalled. Then, she fenced off 30 hectares and spent years working through the night to lure invasive predators like mink away from vulnerable chicks. Her vigilance transformed what had been an impossible place for penguins into the world’s only continental king penguin colony, now nearly 200 strong. “Last year, 23 chicks survived — a record,” she noted. What goes unspoken yet echoes across the air is that this thriving colony is the result of a quiet devotion — one that shows conservation sometimes requires nothing more than one person deciding to show up, every single day.

Be The Change

Today, notice something in your surroundings that needs a gentle guardian. Spend just fifteen minutes watching over it. It might be picking up litter on the street, sitting with a struggling tree, or simply observing neighborhood wildlife and what threatens them.