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#nonviolence — Public Fediverse posts

Live and recent posts from across the Fediverse tagged #nonviolence, aggregated by home.social.

  1. Strike

    The phobia of a copperhead strike
    is made real by the lunge of a
    lawnmower into the brush to shred
    the coiling orange and brown with
    a screaming whump only to realize
    that it was an eastern box turtle
    I had set upon.

    Once again what I am afraid of
    has led me to destroy what I love
    and I weep, wondering if I will ever
    become one whose perceived fears
    are not acted on.

    I did not look to see if the
    slowmover was dead
    but I knew. I could see the
    bloody pieces of her
    shell scattered across
    the lawn.

    September 3, 1996

    #1996 #accidentalHarm #backyardEncounter #boxTurtle #compassion #confessionalWriting #copperheadFear #CreationCare #creaturelyGrief #destroyingWhatWeLove #ecologicalGrief #Fear #fearAndViolence #fearBasedAction #griefAndRemorse #HereAreWordPressTagsForThisPieceEasternBoxTurtle #humanFear #lawnmowerTragedy #moralReflection #Nature #NatureWriting #Nonviolence #orangeAndBrown #perceivedDanger #phobia #poem #POETICAORAREContemplativePoetryPrayers #Poetry #ProsePoem #Repentance #sacredCreatures #shell #SLOWMOVERFollowingGod3mph #Slowmover #Sorrow #SpiritualReflection #thoughts #turtle #turtleShell #unintendedViolence #Violence #vulnerableCreatures #whatIAmAfraidOf #whatILove #wildlife #Writing
  2. Strike

    The phobia of a copperhead strike
    is made real by the lunge of a
    lawnmower into the brush to shred
    the coiling orange and brown with
    a screaming whump only to realize
    that it was an eastern box turtle
    I had set upon.

    Once again what I am afraid of
    has led me to destroy what I love
    and I weep, wondering if I will ever
    become one whose perceived fears
    are not acted on.

    I did not look to see if the
    slowmover was dead
    but I knew. I could see the
    bloody pieces of her
    shell scattered across
    the lawn.

    September 3, 1996

    #1996 #accidentalHarm #backyardEncounter #boxTurtle #compassion #confessionalWriting #copperheadFear #CreationCare #creaturelyGrief #destroyingWhatWeLove #ecologicalGrief #Fear #fearAndViolence #fearBasedAction #griefAndRemorse #HereAreWordPressTagsForThisPieceEasternBoxTurtle #humanFear #lawnmowerTragedy #moralReflection #Nature #NatureWriting #Nonviolence #orangeAndBrown #perceivedDanger #phobia #poem #POETICAORAREContemplativePoetryPrayers #Poetry #ProsePoem #Repentance #sacredCreatures #shell #SLOWMOVERFollowingGod3mph #Slowmover #Sorrow #SpiritualReflection #thoughts #turtle #turtleShell #unintendedViolence #Violence #vulnerableCreatures #whatIAmAfraidOf #whatILove #wildlife #Writing
  3. Strike

    The phobia of a copperhead strike
    is made real by the lunge of a
    lawnmower into the brush to shred
    the coiling orange and brown with
    a screaming whump only to realize
    that it was an eastern box turtle
    I had set upon.

    Once again what I am afraid of
    has led me to destroy what I love
    and I weep, wondering if I will ever
    become one whose perceived fears
    are not acted on.

    I did not look to see if the
    slowmover was dead
    but I knew. I could see the
    bloody pieces of her
    shell scattered across
    the lawn.

    September 3, 1996

    #1996 #accidentalHarm #backyardEncounter #boxTurtle #compassion #confessionalWriting #copperheadFear #CreationCare #creaturelyGrief #destroyingWhatWeLove #ecologicalGrief #Fear #fearAndViolence #fearBasedAction #griefAndRemorse #HereAreWordPressTagsForThisPieceEasternBoxTurtle #humanFear #lawnmowerTragedy #moralReflection #Nature #NatureWriting #Nonviolence #orangeAndBrown #perceivedDanger #phobia #poem #POETICAORAREContemplativePoetryPrayers #Poetry #ProsePoem #Repentance #sacredCreatures #shell #SLOWMOVERFollowingGod3mph #Slowmover #Sorrow #SpiritualReflection #thoughts #turtle #turtleShell #unintendedViolence #Violence #vulnerableCreatures #whatIAmAfraidOf #whatILove #wildlife #Writing
  4. Strike

    The phobia of a copperhead strike
    is made real by the lunge of a
    lawnmower into the brush to shred
    the coiling orange and brown with
    a screaming whump only to realize
    that it was an eastern box turtle
    I had set upon.

    Once again what I am afraid of
    has led me to destroy what I love
    and I weep, wondering if I will ever
    become one whose perceived fears
    are not acted on.

    I did not look to see if the
    slowmover was dead
    but I knew. I could see the
    bloody pieces of her
    shell scattered across
    the lawn.

    September 3, 1996

    #1996 #accidentalHarm #backyardEncounter #boxTurtle #compassion #confessionalWriting #copperheadFear #CreationCare #creaturelyGrief #destroyingWhatWeLove #ecologicalGrief #Fear #fearAndViolence #fearBasedAction #griefAndRemorse #HereAreWordPressTagsForThisPieceEasternBoxTurtle #humanFear #lawnmowerTragedy #moralReflection #Nature #NatureWriting #Nonviolence #orangeAndBrown #perceivedDanger #phobia #poem #POETICAORAREContemplativePoetryPrayers #Poetry #ProsePoem #Repentance #sacredCreatures #shell #SLOWMOVERFollowingGod3mph #Slowmover #Sorrow #SpiritualReflection #thoughts #turtle #turtleShell #unintendedViolence #Violence #vulnerableCreatures #whatIAmAfraidOf #whatILove #wildlife #Writing
  5. Strike

    The phobia of a copperhead strike
    is made real by the lunge of a
    lawnmower into the brush to shred
    the coiling orange and brown with
    a screaming whump only to realize
    that it was an eastern box turtle
    I had set upon.

    Once again what I am afraid of
    has led me to destroy what I love
    and I weep, wondering if I will ever
    become one whose perceived fears
    are not acted on.

    I did not look to see if the
    slowmover was dead
    but I knew. I could see the
    bloody pieces of her
    shell scattered across
    the lawn.

    September 3, 1996

    #1996 #accidentalHarm #backyardEncounter #boxTurtle #compassion #confessionalWriting #copperheadFear #CreationCare #creaturelyGrief #destroyingWhatWeLove #ecologicalGrief #Fear #fearAndViolence #fearBasedAction #griefAndRemorse #HereAreWordPressTagsForThisPieceEasternBoxTurtle #humanFear #lawnmowerTragedy #moralReflection #Nature #NatureWriting #Nonviolence #orangeAndBrown #perceivedDanger #phobia #poem #POETICAORAREContemplativePoetryPrayers #Poetry #ProsePoem #Repentance #sacredCreatures #shell #SLOWMOVERFollowingGod3mph #Slowmover #Sorrow #SpiritualReflection #thoughts #turtle #turtleShell #unintendedViolence #Violence #vulnerableCreatures #whatIAmAfraidOf #whatILove #wildlife #Writing
  6. Le lieu du combat

    Le hasard d’un tirage au sort fait que deux jeunes amis très liés, pratiquant tous deux le même sport de combat, devront s’affronter dans une compétition officielle. La petite amie de l’un d’eux, hostile par principe à toute forme de violence, saisit cette occasion pour faire valoir son pacifisme. Mais aucun des deux futurs combattants n’a l’air inquiet. À leur insu, elle rencontre cependant les organisateurs de la compétition pour essayer d’échanger leurs places avec […]

    dandanjean.com/2026/09/01/le-l

  7. Habitual Fraud Under the Mask of Religion

    The following is a spoken word piece recorded outside of an immigrant church while clergy and others stood outside as a show of solidarity and support so our sisters and brothers could worship safely within.

    Transcript

    They called it
    habitual fraud under the mask of religion.

    Not an error.

    Not a moment of weakness.

    Not one hand caught
    briefly in the offering plate.

    Habitual.

    A practice.

    A discipline.

    A liturgy.

    The mask goes on in the morning.

    God bless America.

    God save the nation.

    God protect the leader.

    God secure the border.

    God bless the bomb.

    God bless the market.

    God bless the prison.

    God bless the order
    we have constructed
    to keep certain people
    on one side of the gate
    and certain people
    on the other.

    And beneath the mask

    the old machinery turns.

    Power.

    Money.

    Fear.

    Land.

    Blood.

    Control.

    The words change.

    The machinery does not.

    Pharaoh had priests.

    Caesar had temples.

    Kings had bishops.

    Plantations had preachers.

    Armies had chaplains.

    Empires have always preferred
    a God who salutes.

    A God who stamps the paperwork.

    A God who approves the budget.

    A God who stands obediently
    behind the podium
    while the ruler speaks.

    This is the oldest political trick:

    put heaven
    on the letterhead.

    And perhaps that is the fraud.

    Not believing in God.

    The fraud is making God
    believe in us.

    Drafting the Almighty
    into our party.

    Putting Christ
    in a campaign hat.

    Making the Prince of Peace
    pose beside the weapons.

    Making the refugee Jesus
    guard the checkpoint.

    Making the condemned Jesus
    cheer the execution.

    Making the poor Jesus
    explain why the poor
    must tighten their belts.

    Making the brown-skinned
    colonized Nazarene

    the patron saint
    of empire.

    Habitual fraud

    under the mask
    of religion.

    And the mask is useful.

    Because without it

    we might have to say plainly:

    We are afraid.

    We want control.

    We want the land.

    We want the money.

    We want the oil.

    We want the votes.

    We want the enemy
    to disappear.

    We want our children safe
    and are willing for someone else’s children
    to be terrified.

    We want to win.

    But these things sound ugly
    when spoken nakedly.

    So bring the vestments.

    Bring the flag.

    Bring the Bible.

    Bring the choir.

    Bring someone
    to pray before the cameras.

    Cover the machinery.

    Hide the gears.

    Bless the blade.

    There is an old story
    about a man in the wilderness

    offered all the kingdoms
    of the world.

    Imagine that.

    All the kingdoms.

    Every palace.

    Every army.

    Every border.

    Every treasury.

    Every throne.

    All yours.

    And he said no.

    We have spent two thousand years
    trying to persuade him
    to reconsider.

    Jesus,

    we can get you elected.

    Jesus,

    we can make Christianity great again.

    Jesus,

    we can protect you
    from your enemies.

    Jesus,

    just stand here.

    Hold the flag.

    Smile.

    Say nothing
    about the stranger.

    Nothing
    about the prisoner.

    Nothing
    about the poor.

    Nothing
    about the peacemakers.

    Nothing
    about loving enemies.

    Certainly nothing
    about selling possessions.

    We have polling
    on that.

    Just give us
    your name.

    We will handle
    the rest.

    Habitual fraud
    under the mask of religion.

    Perhaps someday
    there should be a tribunal

    not for unbelief

    but for misuse of belief.

    For laundering cruelty
    through holiness.

    For hiding ambition
    inside prophecy.

    For calling domination
    discipleship.

    For baptizing nationalism.

    For canonizing vengeance.

    For turning God
    into an authorization code.

    And perhaps the witnesses
    would come forward:

    the migrant,

    the prisoner,

    the hungry child,

    the bombed family,

    the woman silenced
    by sacred authority,

    the dissenter called traitor,

    the believer told
    that obedience to power
    was obedience to God.

    One by one
    they would take the stand.

    And somewhere near the back

    an itinerant rabbi
    from Galilee

    would be waiting
    to testify.

    But perhaps
    there would be no need.

    Because he has already
    given his testimony.

    Blessed are the poor.

    Blessed are the merciful.

    Blessed are the peacemakers.

    Love your enemies.

    Welcome the stranger.

    Put away your sword.

    Whatever you did
    to the least of these

    you did
    to me.

    The evidence
    has been entered.

    The record
    is remarkably clear.

    So when Caesar
    wears the cross,

    look beneath it.

    When the empire
    quotes Scripture,

    keep reading.

    When the ruler says
    God is on our side,

    ask what happens
    to the people
    on the other side.

    When cruelty arrives
    carrying a Bible,

    do not confuse
    the book
    with the hand
    that carries it.

    And when they tell you
    that domination is holy,

    that vengeance is righteous,

    that exclusion is purity,

    that violence is peace,

    that wealth is blessing,

    that obedience is faith—

    remember the charge.

    Not religion.

    Not faith.

    Not devotion.

    But

    habitual fraud

    under the mask

    of religion.

    #authoritarianism #ChristianNationalism #Christianity #ChurchAndState #Empire #faithAndPolitics #JesusAndEmpire #misuseOfReligion #nationalism #Nonviolence #peaceTheology #Peacemaking #piousFraud #politicalPoetry #politicalTheology #propheticWitness #prosePoetry #religionAndPower #religiousHypocrisy #religiousNationalism #Resistance #sacredViolence #SocialJustice #spiritualAbuse #SpokenWord
  8. Il viaggio Dhutanga: 108 giorni e 2.300 miglia - Da Fort Worth, TX fino alla Virginia, diffondendo pace, compassione e nonviolenza in tutti gli Stati Uniti.

    Guidato da Bhikkhu Pannakara del Huong Dao Vipassana Bhavana Center.

    #Dhutanga #PeaceWalk #Compassion #Nonviolence

  9. 🕊️ The best tribute to Mahatma Gandhi is to adopt his principles of nonviolence and truth in our lives. Let’s carry forward his legacy by embodying peace and integrity in our actions.
    #MahatmaGandhi #GandhiJayanti #Nonviolence #Truth #Peace #Bapu #Inspiration #Legacy #Mindfulness #wbcomdesigns

  10. Opinions

    They stare at me, scowling,

    as I state my opinion.

    Are they right? No.

    Is their opinion greater than mine? No.

    We all see in a different light.

    So why do I feel like I am

    wrong, tremble, and am still,

    rather than hear their

    contrary view?

    I will speak

    and so will they

    and together we will

    realize the brighter day.

    May 8, 1985

    #1985 #1985Poetry #brighterDay #ConflictTransformation #Courage #Dialogue #differingOpinions #disagreement #empathy #findingCommonGround #FreedomOfExpression #Hope #Listening #Nonviolence #Peacebuilding #personalWriting #perspective #POETICAORAREContemplativePoetryPrayers #Poetry #reflection #respectfulDialogue #speakingUp #Understanding #Writing