Monday Meditation
The Ethics of Non-Violence: Becoming, Belonging, and the Daily Repair of the World
Monday Meditation
The Ethics of Non-Violence: Becoming, Belonging, and the Daily Repair of the World
“The practice of love is the most powerful antidote to the politics of domination.” — bell hooks
“Nonviolence is a power which can be wielded equally by all…” — Mohandas K. Gandhi
“There is no future without forgiveness.” — Desmond Tutu
“Returning violence for violence multiplies violence.” — Martin Luther King Jr.
The Meditation
There is a tenderness inside me that I am learning to trust. A place where the old scripts—the ones shaped by empire, white Christian supremacy, the academy, and my own survival—begin to dissolve. This is the place where I feel the quiet hum of belonging, the place that calls me back when I start drifting toward domination, control, or fear.
For me, the ethics of non-violence isn’t merely a philosophy or a strategy. It is a rhythm of becoming.
A daily metanoia.
A practice of repair.
bell hooks reminds us that love is not sentimentality but discipline. Love is the work of tending relationships—within ourselves, with each other, and with the more-than-human world. Love, for hooks, is the antidote to violence. And when I allow myself to practice love honestly, fiercely, and vulnerably, I begin to witness how non-violence becomes a way of belonging—how choosing tenderness over domination draws me back into right-relationship.
Gandhi’s satyagraha—the force of soul—teaches me that non-violence is rooted in truth. I know this truth intimately: every violent instinct in me has been shaped by lies—lies about masculinity, lies about power, lies about who I need to be to survive. Non-violence demands that I return, again and again, to the truth of who I am becoming. It is the practice of loosening the grip of old narratives and refusing the violence of self-betrayal.
Desmond Tutu reminds me that repair is how we build the future. His insistence that there is no future without forgiveness isn’t a dismissal of harm—it’s a summons to the healing labor that allows belonging to take root. I hear his words as an invitation to be courageous enough to repair what I have broken and to receive repair when it is offered. Non-violence is the architecture of that future, mapping a path toward mutual liberation.
And Dr. King—the great theorist of moral imagination—teaches me that anger is not the enemy. Anger is energy. Anger is signal. Anger is possibility. What matters is its direction. King calls me to transfigure my anger into an eloquent, creative force that builds, protects, and liberates. Non-violence is not the absence of rage; it is the choreography of rage into repair.
When I weave hooks, Gandhi, Tutu, and King into my own work of becoming, I realize this:
Non-violence is how belonging is practiced.
Repair is how belonging takes root.
Becoming is how belonging learns to breathe.
Every day, I have the opportunity to turn toward the world and ask:
How can I belong without causing harm?
How can I return to the truth of who I am?
How can I repair what has been fractured within and between us?
This is the pilgrimage I’m on.
My daily metanoia.
My way of unbecoming the violences I inherited and becoming the Trans(hu)man I long to be.
Paz, —RCE+
Reflection Questions
Where in my body do I feel the tug toward domination or control?
What does it mean for me to practice belonging today?
How might I turn toward truth in a way that loosens old scripts?
What relationships—human or more-than-human—are calling me toward repair?
How might my anger become a creative, liberatory force rather than a destructive one?
Monday Field Guide: Practicing Non-Violence as Becoming + Belonging
1. Return to Your Breath
Take one minute. Place your hand on your sternum.
Inhale: I belong to myself.
Exhale: I choose non-violence.
This is your truth-practice.
2. Repair One Thread
Send a message—gratitude, apology, blessing—to repair one relationship.
This is your belonging-practice.
3. Interrupt Domination
Notice one moment today when the urge to control arises.
Pause. Soften. Choose the non-violent alternative.
This is your unlearning-practice.
4. Transfigure Your Anger
Journal: “What is my anger protecting?”
Ask it how it wants to create, not destroy.
This is your becoming-practice.
Closing Benediction
Beloveds,
may your becoming be rooted in love,
your belonging anchored in truth,
your repair guided by tenderness,
and your anger transformed into a force for liberation.
May the wisdom of hooks, Gandhi, Tutu, and King
carry you toward a future where non-violence is not simply a principle
but a lived choreography of courage,
a daily return to the sacred hum within you,
a homecoming into the community we are repairing together.
Go gently.
Go truthfully.
Go in the way of non-violence.