Who Are We?

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Who Are We?

By Jane Tawel

June 20, 2025

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We did not appear as a fluke.

Nor do we wander aimlessly.

I am not the sum of what I produce.

If I would allow it,

my thoughts would rest painlessly

Our words remind us constantly,

of just how little we know.

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Today I invite All in — 

embracing your suffering as mine.

Forgiving my lack of care,

as I forgive yours,

I will see in us, only The Divine.

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Everything comes and goes.

And Time and Space matter little

in this very, single, precious moment.

What I see, in your face, your eyes,

What I hear in your cries, your giggle,

What I touch in your hands and your heart

What I taste in the bread and the wine

of that communion that makes our separate parts — 

One — 

As all else changes,

As the planet spins and spins,

If you and I ask not, “What do I believe?”

Or, “What do I get?”

Or, “What do I perceive?”

Or, “How can I win?”

But instead, ask: ”Who Are We?”

Then we will find there are no strangers.

There is only one little human being

that I call “I”,

And one other little “I”,

And another,

And another,

And another.

And when all our “I’s”

are seen as One We,

we will know Who We Are.

Then only Love remains.

© Jane Tawel, 2025

Leaving the House for Home

by Jane Tawel

https://unsplash.com/@celinecp

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Leaving the House for Home

By Jane Tawel

June 16, 2025

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Cleaning out the cobwebs is a start,

but not enough.

Throwing out the trash can feel good,

but it’s a temporary rush;

the trash keeps building up.

To be completely clean,

to clear everything out,

one must destroy the house.

Or you could simply walk away.

No need for regrets.

The house won’t live forever anyway.

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Leaving all behind.

Giving all imagined futures away.

Leave your house to the squatters.

Leave the spiders your corners,

And let the birds make nests in your eaves.

Someday the worms will rule your garden,

And you can follow the bees.

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Walk away and don’t look back.

Do not ask where the path leads.

The Path leads to Now.

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Look at the piece of grass at your feet — 

and smell its richness.

Look at the Big Sky — 

the clouds cannot hide it.

Look at your hand — 

and touch its calloused softness.

Listen to the bird song — 

and hear the breeze.

Breathe deeply.

You are enough,

This is enough,

because you are here now.

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Leave the cobwebs and the dust

that have gathered in your past.

Choose the path that obscures from view,

whatever may lie ahead.

*

The next step you take in the freedom of Love,

The next breath you take in the joy of Life,

The next heartbeat you have in the grace of this Moment,

Those things are your Home.

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And now you can tell yourself,

“I didn’t really need this house to live in”.

Because Eternity can not be contained.

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© Jane Tawel, 2025

The Little Gnat

by Jane Tawel

Unsplash- Payco Stories

The Little Gnat

By Jane Tawel

June 1, 2025

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I watch the smallest gnat

flit around my reading lamp.

I bugged me, so,

I tried once or twice to squash it.

But after it kept getting away,

I asked its forgiveness:

“Forgive me, please.”

Why should I murder

a little gnat?

It does me no harm.

So, I shall do it no harm

and thereby live

One perfect

Harmless

Moment.

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Why do I choose

to feed on feces

when by turning around

I could find The Feast?

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The mind runs willy-nilly,

desperate to escape the heart.

Why?

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The walls we build are made

of solid ice — cold and hard.

But even solid ice will melt

when exposed (over enough time)

to the warmth of Love.

And like the Sun,

The Light of Truth

will make cracks in the

iciest and hardest of our walls.

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Like the Sun if we look straight at it

we are kindly blinded if we seek the Truth.

Like warm water on cold hands

Love will gently open even the most mangled grip.

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True Truth is only found

in Not Knowing.

Love is only found

in Letting Go of grasping the high bars

and falling gently down

into the soft folds of Forgiveness.

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Who knows

who the little gnat might actually be?

He will die of his own accord,

in his own time,

as shall I.

Perhaps someday the gnat and I

will meet again

And he will say to me, 
 “Thank you”.

He will appear as an angel

and thank me for not killing him.

And I will thank him

for teaching me about Love.

Perhaps Someday –

Ah, my Soul — 

I will thank even the little gnat,

and All who bring me to

The Place where we are One.

*

© Jane Tawel, 2025