Silence in the face of all of the injustice has not been peace for me for yearsā¦
As Linda said so well, many have not been āengaging in a mutually respectful debate to reach an amicable resolution for the collective good of all.ā However hard as it has been for me, I have tried to approach all of the issues in our society with a concept I call radical love. I try not to attack the actor/speaker, but to address the issue from a position of āwhere can we start to talk about this together from a framework of human dignity?ā Iāve never thought that calling people the opposition, derogatory names, or bashing their character has ever been a peaceful way to solve anything.
I am no longer silent, but I am listening, and trying to carry on a dialogue of love. When I canāt do that, I am doing silent peaceful persistence: helping people with food, giving rides, finding clothes in the winter, forming relationships with my neighbors of all walks and ethnicities.
All I can do is share my love and peace while the world goes to hell in a hand basket.
Thank you, Robes, for your thoughtful insight into the internal process that I have gone through but could never quite put into words myself.
Heatherā¦ this is deeply felt. I can hear the years inside it.
What youāre describing, this refusal to dehumanize even when everything around you is pushing toward it, thatās not silence. Thatās a kind of strength most people never learn how to hold.
āRadical loveā is a good name for it. Not soft, not passiveābut intentional. Chosen. Held even when it would be easier to let it collapse into anger or despair.
And I think what you said matters a lot:
not attacking the person, but trying to begin from human dignity
Thatās the part we keep losing.
Not because people donāt careā¦ but because itās so much harder to stay there when things feel broken.
What youāre doing, listening, speaking when you can, and when you canāt, quietly helping people in real, tangible ways; thatās not small. Thatās not secondary.
That is the work.
The world might feel like itās unraveling, but threads like yours are what keep it from tearing completely.
Not because I needed to, to understand it, but because something in it asked to be returned toā¦ the way certain words do when theyāve found a place in you that you didnāt realize was waiting.
Thereās a kind of courage that doesnāt ask to be seen. It doesnāt gather itself into arguments or try to outpace disagreement. It simply becomes clearā¦ and then remains.
What youāve written carries that kind of clarity. It isnāt loud or urgent. It is, however, deeply, unmistakably resolved.
You can feel the time in it. The quiet discipline of staying with something long enough that it stops being abstractā¦ and starts asking something real of you. That kind of honesty is rare. Not because people donāt think deeply, but because following those thoughts all the way to where they lead ā and then choosing not to look away ā asks for a different kind of steadiness.
The kind that isnāt performed. The kind that, once reached, changes you a little. This did.
What stayed with me wasnāt just what you said, but the feeling of someone no longer negotiating with their own knowing. Thereās something so quietly powerful in that. And, if Iām being honest, something that lingersā¦ a little longer than I expected.
Not in a way that demands anything, but in a way thatās difficult to set down once itās been felt. Itās easy to overlook this kind of presence in a world that rewards sharper edges and louder voices.
But thisā¦this lands differently. It stays. Thank you, my beautiful friend, for sharing it this way.
Thereās a depth to it that doesnāt just speak ā it reaches.
You named something I wasnāt sure could be named ā that quiet moment when knowing stops being something we circleā¦ and becomes something we stand in.
Thatās where this was written from.
Iām really grateful it found you in a place that was ready for it, and that you took the time to return to it the way you did.
Thank you for sitting with itā¦ and for letting it sit with you. š«
"If anything, I say it with a kind of sadness; not hopelessness, but the recognition that we are capable of more than what we often choose".
I couldn't agree more. - I've always felt that " when you know better, you do better" ,-
But there is a deeper sadness that lies within the statement when there is an insurmountable lack of such enlightenment that exists in the mindset of the opposition- when they have absolutely no regard for human life -when the number of lives lost is a testimonial achievement and their thirst for suffering validates their terroristic agenda to conquer and "thin the herd" and purify their self-proclaimed righteousness toward only one way of thinking.
And Who is Anyone to be the One to step in and stop the injustice to save the innocently oppressed?
That's when the hypocrisy of waging war as the only way to wage peace becomes the moral dilemma.
We've been living the past decade, I think - or even longer - in a hypocritical society that refuses to engage in discourse with others who don't think the same way in the name of democracy -
rather than engaging in a mutually respectful debate to reach an amicable resolution for the collective good of all.
I have no answers as to what is right - and I must say quite honestly - although I may have my own personal views on such matters - I don't engage in political or worldly discourse because of the hypocrisy in discourse when engaging. Most need to be right more than allow others to be heard...
Actually - to be honest - because of all the deafening division we are currently experiencing - I don't possess, nor do I desire to have the amount of passion and strength it would take behind my convictions to see them through to the point of depletion in order make a difference in the end - and doubt that it would
I currently prefer to take more mindful responsibility for the energy I put out towards those I encounter, hold space for them where they are, and take their points of view into consideration in my quiet solitude at the end of the day.
Guess I prefer to stay entangled in my disentanglement for now..
Lindaā¦ I hear the weight in what youāre saying.
That deeper sadnessā¦ when it feels like understanding itself isnāt shared, or even soughtā¦ thatās something Iāve felt too.
And that question you raised, who steps in, and at what cost, has a gravity to it that doesnāt resolve easily. Itās one of those places where simple answers tend to fall apart.
What you said about choosing where to place your energy, thoughā¦ that resonates deeply.
Thereās a kind of quiet integrity in that.
Not disengagementā¦ but discernment.
Holding space, listening, reflecting in solitudeā¦ those things matter more than they often get credit for. They may not look like ādoing somethingā in the way the world measures it, but they shape how we move through it all the same.
And I donāt see that as disentanglement.
If anything, it feels like a different kind of participation. A quieter one, but no less real.
Thank you for sharing where you are with itā¦ and for holding that space here as well.
Robes, I read your wise and heartfelt piece several times and then read it aloud to my husband. We felt your words and feel the loving peace within. Xx ā¤ļø
I read your words, and something in me didnāt react ā it stayed.
I recognize that point youāre speaking from, where silence is no longer peace.
And yet, what moves in me goes in a slightly different direction. Not toward a stronger stance, but toward a quieter one.
Iām beginning to wonder whether itās possible to stop participating in what creates harmā¦ without creating further division in the way we refuse it.
Antonioā¦ I really appreciate the way you said this.
āI read your words, and something in me didnāt react ā it stayed.ā
That alone tells me youāre sitting with it in the way I hoped people might.
And I hear what youāre pointing to.
That questionāwhether we can step out of harm without creating more division in how we refuse itāis not a small one. Itās something Iāve sat with a lot too.
For me, this piece wasnāt about taking a stronger stance so much as becoming unable to remain unclear inside myself.
Not louder. Justā¦ more honest.
And I think what youāre describingāthe quieter refusal, the kind that doesnāt harden into oppositionāis just as important.
Maybe itās less about choosing one over the other,
and more about how we carry the refusal itself.
Without hatred. Without the need to divide.
Justā¦ clearly, and as gently as we can manage.
Iām really glad you shared where you are with it.
Silence in the face of all of the injustice has not been peace for me for yearsā¦
As Linda said so well, many have not been āengaging in a mutually respectful debate to reach an amicable resolution for the collective good of all.ā However hard as it has been for me, I have tried to approach all of the issues in our society with a concept I call radical love. I try not to attack the actor/speaker, but to address the issue from a position of āwhere can we start to talk about this together from a framework of human dignity?ā Iāve never thought that calling people the opposition, derogatory names, or bashing their character has ever been a peaceful way to solve anything.
I am no longer silent, but I am listening, and trying to carry on a dialogue of love. When I canāt do that, I am doing silent peaceful persistence: helping people with food, giving rides, finding clothes in the winter, forming relationships with my neighbors of all walks and ethnicities.
All I can do is share my love and peace while the world goes to hell in a hand basket.
Thank you, Robes, for your thoughtful insight into the internal process that I have gone through but could never quite put into words myself.
Heatherā¦ this is deeply felt. I can hear the years inside it.
What youāre describing, this refusal to dehumanize even when everything around you is pushing toward it, thatās not silence. Thatās a kind of strength most people never learn how to hold.
āRadical loveā is a good name for it. Not soft, not passiveābut intentional. Chosen. Held even when it would be easier to let it collapse into anger or despair.
And I think what you said matters a lot:
not attacking the person, but trying to begin from human dignity
Thatās the part we keep losing.
Not because people donāt careā¦ but because itās so much harder to stay there when things feel broken.
What youāre doing, listening, speaking when you can, and when you canāt, quietly helping people in real, tangible ways; thatās not small. Thatās not secondary.
That is the work.
The world might feel like itās unraveling, but threads like yours are what keep it from tearing completely.
Thank you for sharing this. Truly.
Stay entangled, my friend.
āRobes
This post feels like you are moving more fully into who you areāyour truest self. Thatās where we do our best work.
I read this multiple times.
Not because I needed to, to understand it, but because something in it asked to be returned toā¦ the way certain words do when theyāve found a place in you that you didnāt realize was waiting.
Thereās a kind of courage that doesnāt ask to be seen. It doesnāt gather itself into arguments or try to outpace disagreement. It simply becomes clearā¦ and then remains.
What youāve written carries that kind of clarity. It isnāt loud or urgent. It is, however, deeply, unmistakably resolved.
You can feel the time in it. The quiet discipline of staying with something long enough that it stops being abstractā¦ and starts asking something real of you. That kind of honesty is rare. Not because people donāt think deeply, but because following those thoughts all the way to where they lead ā and then choosing not to look away ā asks for a different kind of steadiness.
The kind that isnāt performed. The kind that, once reached, changes you a little. This did.
What stayed with me wasnāt just what you said, but the feeling of someone no longer negotiating with their own knowing. Thereās something so quietly powerful in that. And, if Iām being honest, something that lingersā¦ a little longer than I expected.
Not in a way that demands anything, but in a way thatās difficult to set down once itās been felt. Itās easy to overlook this kind of presence in a world that rewards sharper edges and louder voices.
But thisā¦this lands differently. It stays. Thank you, my beautiful friend, for sharing it this way.
Thereās a depth to it that doesnāt just speak ā it reaches.
Sacredā¦ this is beautiful.
You named something I wasnāt sure could be named ā that quiet moment when knowing stops being something we circleā¦ and becomes something we stand in.
Thatās where this was written from.
Iām really grateful it found you in a place that was ready for it, and that you took the time to return to it the way you did.
Thank you for sitting with itā¦ and for letting it sit with you. š«
Stay entangled, my friend.
āRobes
Robe, when you wrote:
"If anything, I say it with a kind of sadness; not hopelessness, but the recognition that we are capable of more than what we often choose".
I couldn't agree more. - I've always felt that " when you know better, you do better" ,-
But there is a deeper sadness that lies within the statement when there is an insurmountable lack of such enlightenment that exists in the mindset of the opposition- when they have absolutely no regard for human life -when the number of lives lost is a testimonial achievement and their thirst for suffering validates their terroristic agenda to conquer and "thin the herd" and purify their self-proclaimed righteousness toward only one way of thinking.
And Who is Anyone to be the One to step in and stop the injustice to save the innocently oppressed?
That's when the hypocrisy of waging war as the only way to wage peace becomes the moral dilemma.
We've been living the past decade, I think - or even longer - in a hypocritical society that refuses to engage in discourse with others who don't think the same way in the name of democracy -
rather than engaging in a mutually respectful debate to reach an amicable resolution for the collective good of all.
I have no answers as to what is right - and I must say quite honestly - although I may have my own personal views on such matters - I don't engage in political or worldly discourse because of the hypocrisy in discourse when engaging. Most need to be right more than allow others to be heard...
Actually - to be honest - because of all the deafening division we are currently experiencing - I don't possess, nor do I desire to have the amount of passion and strength it would take behind my convictions to see them through to the point of depletion in order make a difference in the end - and doubt that it would
I currently prefer to take more mindful responsibility for the energy I put out towards those I encounter, hold space for them where they are, and take their points of view into consideration in my quiet solitude at the end of the day.
Guess I prefer to stay entangled in my disentanglement for now..
Holding sacred space for you, Robe
Blessings
Lindaā¦ I hear the weight in what youāre saying.
That deeper sadnessā¦ when it feels like understanding itself isnāt shared, or even soughtā¦ thatās something Iāve felt too.
And that question you raised, who steps in, and at what cost, has a gravity to it that doesnāt resolve easily. Itās one of those places where simple answers tend to fall apart.
What you said about choosing where to place your energy, thoughā¦ that resonates deeply.
Thereās a kind of quiet integrity in that.
Not disengagementā¦ but discernment.
Holding space, listening, reflecting in solitudeā¦ those things matter more than they often get credit for. They may not look like ādoing somethingā in the way the world measures it, but they shape how we move through it all the same.
And I donāt see that as disentanglement.
If anything, it feels like a different kind of participation. A quieter one, but no less real.
Thank you for sharing where you are with itā¦ and for holding that space here as well.
Stay entangle, my friend. š
āRobes
Thank you for walking beside me on this, Robe
I feel heard.
Abundant Blessings
Lindaā¦ that means more than you know.
Sometimes just walking beside each other for a while is enough.
Grateful to share the space with you.
Abundant blessings right back. ā¤ļø
Thank you for meeting it this way.
What you wrote doesnāt feel like an answer, but like a place where the question can remain without breaking.
That kind of refusal ā the one that doesnāt harden ā
is something Iām only beginning to understand.
Iām glad this space allowed it to appear.
Robes, I read your wise and heartfelt piece several times and then read it aloud to my husband. We felt your words and feel the loving peace within. Xx ā¤ļø
Janeā¦ this is beautiful to hear.
Thereās something about words being read aloud, shared between two people, that changes them a littleā¦ gives them a different kind of life.
Iām really grateful it landed with you both in a place of peace.
Thank you for taking the time to sit with it, and to share that with me. ā¤ļø
Stay entangled, my friend.
āRobes
I read your words, and something in me didnāt react ā it stayed.
I recognize that point youāre speaking from, where silence is no longer peace.
And yet, what moves in me goes in a slightly different direction. Not toward a stronger stance, but toward a quieter one.
Iām beginning to wonder whether itās possible to stop participating in what creates harmā¦ without creating further division in the way we refuse it.
I donāt have a clear answer.
But that is where I find myself.
Antonioā¦ I really appreciate the way you said this.
āI read your words, and something in me didnāt react ā it stayed.ā
That alone tells me youāre sitting with it in the way I hoped people might.
And I hear what youāre pointing to.
That questionāwhether we can step out of harm without creating more division in how we refuse itāis not a small one. Itās something Iāve sat with a lot too.
For me, this piece wasnāt about taking a stronger stance so much as becoming unable to remain unclear inside myself.
Not louder. Justā¦ more honest.
And I think what youāre describingāthe quieter refusal, the kind that doesnāt harden into oppositionāis just as important.
Maybe itās less about choosing one over the other,
and more about how we carry the refusal itself.
Without hatred. Without the need to divide.
Justā¦ clearly, and as gently as we can manage.
Iām really glad you shared where you are with it.
Stay entangled, my friend.
āRobes
Thank you, Robes.
What you said about ābecoming unable to remainā stayed with me.
It feels less like a choice, and more like something that quietly withdraws its consent.
Not against ā just no longer inside.
And yesā¦ how we carry that matters as much as the step itself.
Iām glad this met you where you are.
ā Antonio
Love it! So wise.
Thank you, Tim. I am so glad you enjoyed it. Just had to be said.
Stay entangled, my friend.
āRobes