Kindness in a Time of Claws

Searching through the Rubble for Kindness

When layoffs were sweeping through my workplace many years ago, I watched people I had thought of as kind and decent become cruel. Colleagues who once smiled in the hallways began hoarding resources, undermining one another, and snapping at anyone they perceived as vulnerable. I was shocked—and to be honest, deeply disillusioned. It was one of my earliest adult encounters with how fear and scarcity can twist people.

I did some reading at the time, trying to understand. The answers were complicated—and they still are.

Image Credit: Bonsales, Shutterstock

I want to believe people are good. Some might call that Pollyanna-ish, especially when we’re surrounded by cruelty, bullying, or indifference. But even if some people lose their way, that doesn’t mean we should stop believing in goodness—or trying to practice it ourselves.

Recent research reveals that in disasters, many people do rise to the occasion. Sociologists studying natural disasters like hurricanes and earthquakes have found that people often show extraordinary generosity and cooperation—what some call catastrophe compassion. When the world collapses around us, many of us build communities rather than barricades.¹

But that’s not the only pattern. When people feel threatened—whether by job loss, cultural change, or political power shifts—they can also behave like trapped animals. They snap at the hands trying to feed them or free them. This isn’t just metaphor. Neuroscience tells us that when we perceive danger, our amygdala (the threat detector) overrides the parts of our brain responsible for empathy, reason, and long-term thinking. We go into survival mode.²

That’s where we find ourselves now. I see this in the MAGA faithful. I see it in those who are drawn to fascist ideologies—even those who would be targeted by such regimes. It’s disheartening. And infuriating. And painful.

But it may also be fear.

That doesn’t excuse hate. It doesn’t mean we don’t set boundaries. But it may mean that kindness—real kindness, the kind that is rooted in strength, courage, and healthy boundaries—has more power than we think. That gentleness is not weakness. That compassion doesn’t mean avoiding the truth, but facing it with dignity.

We can be good even when others are not.

And sometimes, people surprise us. Even those who’ve lashed out in pain may, someday, reach back in peace. I’ve seen it happen. It may not be everyone. But it might be someone.

What about bullies?

Bullying isn’t always about cruelty for its own sake. Psychologists point out that many bullies act out of a need for control, fear of being powerless, or a belief that harshness is the only way to be safe.³ In the same way that political extremism can become a hard shell around fear or shame, bullying can be a survival tactic that outlasts the original threat. But people can grow beyond it. What helps? Real relationships. Accountability. New narratives about who they are and what strength looks like. I’ve seen it happen. People can soften. People can change.

So let’s practice kindness—not just for them, but for ourselves. Let’s find refuge in our own integrity. Let’s be the kind of neighbor we’d want to search for in the rubble.

Try It: Reflecting on Courageous Kindness

• Recall a time when you felt backed into a corner. What helped you not lash out—or helped you return to kindness later?

• Is there someone you’re tempted to write off as “irredeemable”? What do you imagine they’re afraid of? (This doesn’t mean excusing harm, nor putting yourself in harm's way—but it might offer insight.)

• Practice one act of proactive kindness today—especially one that’s a bit uncomfortable. Kindness is easy when you think someone deserves it. Real courage shows up when kindness is not returned.

You might find grounding in this practice:

https://abeltaine.blogspot.com/2025/04/metta-meditation-holding-infant.html

I'd love to receive your responses to this. It is a challenge to balance kindness with boundaries, a passion for justice with compassion. What's working (or not working) for you?

Beloved,

You are whole, holy, and worthy,

Rev. Amy

Spiritual Resistance in Chaotic Times: Strength, Meaning, and Hope

Equipping Spiritual Resistance

In times of rising totalitarianism, when entire communities are targeted with discrimination, hatred, and violence, how do we survive? How do we stay whole, ethical, and grounded in our values? How do we resist without losing ourselves to despair?

For those of us who accompany others on their spiritual journeys – whether as spiritual companions, activists, or simply as friends – these questions are urgent. The people who turn to us may be trans folks, people of color, Spanish speakers, disabled people, or anyone marginalized in America’s current climate. They seek spiritual resources to endure, resist, and reclaim joy in the midst of oppression.

History offers us voices of those who have survived and resisted before. Their wisdom has been forged from the worst of times:  Nazi concentration camps, Soviet gulags, fascist regimes, and anti-colonial struggles. They remind us that even in the fearful times, people have found ways to sustain their spirits, to resist oppression, and to pass on commitment to love, like a candle flame.

Candle lighting another candle (Pexel)

Finding Meaning in the Struggle

Viktor Frankl, a Holocaust survivor and psychiatrist, wrote that “everything can be taken from a man[sic] but one thing, the last of the human freedoms, to choose one’s attitude in any given set of circumstances, to choose one’s own way.” Frankl found that even in the depths of suffering, meaning was possible. He saw prisoners who, despite starvation and brutality, shared their last piece of bread, and others who found dignity in comforting a fellow inmate.

To resist despair, we must ask: What meaning can we make of our struggle? For some, it may be the commitment to care for others. For others, it may be the knowledge that survival itself is resistance. And for many, it is the understanding that we are part of a lineage of resistance, what Czesław Miłosz called, in “The Captive Mind,” “a mandate from those who have perished, a mandate to act in their place and to fulfill their unfulfilled hope.”

Resisting Silence and Fear

Totalitarianism thrives on silence. It isolates, shames, and convinces people that resistance is futile. Nadezhda Mandelstam, who lived through Stalin’s purges, wrote: “If nothing else is left, one must scream. Silence is the real crime against humanity.” Speaking the truth – even in whispers, even in hidden circles – is a form of defiance.

In Persepolis, Marjane Satrapi tells of her childhood under the Iranian regime, where even wearing the wrong kind of clothing could be deadly. Yet her family laughed together in secret, held underground discussions, and kept the memory of freedom alive. To resist, we do not always need grand gestures; we need only to refuse the lie that we are alone.

The Power of Community and Ritual

Valarie Kaur, a Sikh activist in the USA, speaks of revolutionary love: the idea that survival and resistance are deeply tied to community and care. “The darkness of the womb,” she says, “is not the darkness of the tomb.” Even when everything feels hopeless, something new can be born if we hold each other up.

For those of us providing spiritual companionship, this means helping others stay connected to their traditions, ancestors, and practices. In “My Grandmother’s Hands”, Resmaa Menakem teaches us that trauma is stored in the body, but so is resilience. Simple rituals, breathing, humming, grounding in nature, can remind us that we belong to something larger than our suffering.

As spiritual companions, we can help people ask:

• What practices keep me connected to my dignity?
• Who are my people, past and present, who remind me that I am not alone?
• What stories, prayers, or songs bring me strength?

Plant with roots in water glass (Pexels)

Courage, Humor, and the Refusal to Submit

Vaclav Havel, who resisted Soviet rule in Czechoslovakia, wrote that “hope is not the conviction that something will turn out well, but the certainty that something makes sense, regardless of how it turns out.” To live in truth, even in small ways, is resistance.

Primo Levi, an Auschwitz survivor, reminds us that laughter is an act of defiance: “If you lose the ability to laugh, you lose the ability to think.” Humor, even in dangerous times, keeps us human. The ability to see absurdity in oppression –to laugh at tyranny’s pomposity, or dance furiously – is a form of spiritual resilience.

Laughing kids on street (Pexels)

Bearing Witness, Holding Memory

Anna Akhmatova, a poet under Stalin, stood in the prison lines with other women, waiting to hear the fate of their loved ones. She wrote, “I stand as witness to the common lot, survivor of that time, that place.” Bearing witness, refusing to let suffering be erased, is itself a form of resistance.

George Orwell warned that authoritarian regimes seek to “obliterate people’s understanding of their own history.” We see this now, as books are banned, histories are rewritten, and entire communities are told they do not belong. Holding memory, telling stories, and refusing to forget is an act of defiance.

Living as Resistance

The line between survival and resistance is not always clear. Sometimes, getting out of bed is resistance. Sometimes, feeding each other is resistance. Sometimes, telling a joke, breathing deeply, or singing an old song is resistance. Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn reminds us, “One word of truth shall outweigh the whole world.” Even in a time of fear, we can choose truth.

For those of us who guide others spiritually, our role is to help people remember: You are not alone. You have ancestors – of blood, of spirit, of struggle – who have traveled this road before. You carry something within you that no regime, no oppressor, no law can take away. You are whole, holy, and worthy.

We resist not only for ourselves but for those who came before and those who will come after. And in that resistance, we find each other. We find joy. And we find life.

Let us remain faithful: Faithful to our wholeness, faithful to one another, and faithful to the work we must do.

Blessings of resistance,

Rev. Amy

Deepen and explore spiritual practice and find meaning through spiritual direction work. Find a Spiritual Companion, visit http://AmyBeltaine.info or https://shorturl.at/pr0ue or http://UUSDN.org 

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