A year ago when I decided to uproot the life that I had built for myself in Haiti and plant it in a new place back in the US, I had no idea that I would be planting it in an environment that would immediately become defined by a deadly pandemic. I made the official move from Mizak, Haiti, to Hill City, South Dakota, in mid-February of this year. The first cases of community spread of Covid-19 in the United States were reported February 26th. …


I recently tried out an online therapy service and one of the first assignments that my therapist gave me was to describe my perfect dream day for her. I spent the next few days leading up to our subsequent session meditating on this idea and imagining what my ideal day would look like if I could design it without restrictions. Although I thought of a few elements that would be included, I struggled to come up with a cohesive description of a day that truly felt perfect. …


While sitting on my front porch in Haiti, I once had a friend ask me this question, “What had to die in you so that compassion could live?” At the time I told him that I didn’t know how to answer that question but I could guarantee him that I would meditate on it and would someday write about it as soon as I began to understand the answer to it myself. At first it seems like a question injected with an incredible level of hopelessness and defeat. What has to die so that compassion can live?

When we set…


I’ve stuck my foot in my mouth enough times in Haiti that I’ve learned, especially when I’m upset, to play out conversations in my head and anticipate where potential arguments might lead before I ever open up my mouth. Nine times out of ten when I perform this mental exercise, I discover that the discussion is likely to lead someplace undesirable, and usually with me apologizing and begging forgiveness for what I said in the first place, so then I just keep my mouth shut. I’d like to share an example, but first, some background.

I’ve got this cistern. It’s…

Lee Rainboth

Creating and writing from Jacmel, Haiti. I roll my eyes, and sigh heavily, then translate those eye rolls and sighs into words for others to read.

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