What Are We So Afraid Of?

What Are We So Afraid Of?

By Jane Tawel

September 2019

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(Jane and  her son Gordon with Americans and Mexicans working together in Tijuana Mexico)

 

I am confused about what people are afraid of. I see this fear infecting the whole world, but as a life-long, card-carrying American, I have to address this fear-mongering problem that is rising in my own nation, like yeast in Egypt before the Hebrews left for the Promised Land. America as an empire has long been an example of capitalism on steroids, masquerading as “democracy” or worse, giving the lie to something certain people call “Christianity”.  It makes me tremble to observe our (and I include myself) hypocrisy and power-hungry, greedy worldview not only rampaging through the world, but in true Orwellian fashion, calling ‘darkness’, “light”, and ‘hate’, “love”.

 

The most shocking (and obliviously, hypocritically ironic) are the people who are so terrified of and who therefore, have no love for the immigrant, the sojourner, the children of different races, ethnicities, cultures, or social strata. These are the people who want in now because they need to leave their homes elsewhere (often because of something we did to their homeland in the first place). These are people who simply want to live. Ironic much, Americans? Hello, calling any immigrants out there in America? Oh, yeah, that’s right, ALL of us are here because of our immigrating ancestors, except for, of course, the Native Americans who we conveniently trounced when we first came here or the slaves we brought here in the name of “more for me”.

 

 

The very fact that we have dubbed certain people “illegal” is a true indication of our rotted value system. These immigrants are not breaking the law, they are begging us for help. If you want to look for law-breakers, though, you don’t have to look to our borders. The entitled oligarchy here does tend to break the laws with impunity and not be penalized; and many of them work very little for the enormous amounts they are paid compared to what their employees are paid. And yet, there are those of us who fearfully brand things like equity and fairness, justice and mercy, and ‘doing unto others as we want done to us’, as “socialism”. Brand someone who is not like me as “illegal”, and it has the added bonus of making everything I do, as “legal” by default.  This is true for those who “serve” us in our government as well as the real people running this country– the 15% of people running mega-companies or the independently wealthy individuals and those who own 86% of this “Republic’s” wealth. If Americans are so up in arms about law breaking, so fearful of others who are not like the “average Jane or John Doe”, then they need look no further than our own beloved institutions and leaders of government, religion, industry, and social entertainment.

 

Historically this has been true of every Empire, I am afraid, and yet, all these years I have lived here and I am still always a bit taken aback when America, which was to be the “shining city on a hill”, proves to be no different. This is what I mean when I ask what values do people think poor immigrants are not catching on to? Perhaps you know different ones than I do? But any recent immigrants that I know of are hard workers, good students who often put themselves through school while holding down jobs; they are people who care for their children, parents, often even grandparents while doing jobs no one else wants to do; they are creative, grateful people who are bringing good things to our nation. Compare them to the “legal” citizens’ whose kids got into colleges by deceit and lies. Compare them to the “legal” immigrants who send their money and jobs to other parts of the world to increase their wealth, while fleecing our citizens. Compare them to our leaders who have no care at all for the health of our own grandparents and children. Compare them to the “legal” citizens who are now almost daily shooting up our citizenry with their freedom to buy weapons of mass destruction. Compare them to people who spend my tax dollars as elected officials and increase their own wealth while in office, not mine. Compare them to pastors or priests or spokespeople for any religion such as Christianity who make millions of dollars a year in God’s name and have the nerve to say their religion is being persecuted. Are those the values some folks are so anxious that our immigrants are supposed to want and have? We are picking at the specks in the eyes of the “other”, while the planks that are blinding us to our own truth, are growing at the same rate that we are deforesting the world.

 

So, I honestly have no idea, I really don’t understand what in the world people are talking about when they want somehow to “go back” to something they think America (or maybe your nation? Or maybe the whole world?)  once was.  It wasn’t; and it isn’t; and it never will be, unless that is we own-up and make it so. I’m not being argumentative, I just don’t get it. What is wrong in this country is what wise people and philosophies and holy books have tried to tell us has been wrong since the beginning of humans’ inhabitation of the earth. What is messed up in me, in you, in us is what is messed up in America. Every one and every place have always eventually gotten broken and messed up, unless and until goodness and truth and right values are either restored and rebuilt or else these things eventually die out so much that the soul of the person or the soul of the place dies along with them. But for God’s sake, or if you’d rather, for America’s sake, just because it is broken, doesn’t mean we don’t have the responsibility to actually try and fix it. But something broken can never be fixed by trying to go back to an imagined Past. It is only by embracing the Future and the hard task of living into the unknown that we can even survive let alone thrive. It is only by accepting what we have been given (not earned) for Today, with  a heart and mind filled with gratitude, grace, and love, that we can mend the brokenness within and without, and together can build something worth keeping, worth treasuring, worth sharing.

 

We have not risen to the clarion call of our ancestors, whomever we might consider them to be. What we really have done is sunk and hunkered down into the values of false pride, self-entitlement, and overarching greed. We are all a result of America’s worship of capitalism or “manna”, in the name of nationalism (selfishness). And all of what we are so anxious to hang on to for ourselves are not valuables based on the moral high-ground of some belief system, but are the result of our true values, which are nothing to do with democracy or justice or freedom, and definitely not anything at all to do with goodness or love or God or Christianity or any such ideal.

 

If you want to spiritualize, which I obviously always tend towards, we “must be born again”. That means, at a minimum, that we must humble ourselves and become like little babies, not in a selfish way, but in an innocent, anticipatory way. As newborn “citizens of the world”, we would have to accept that we each and as a whole have a gigantic amount still to learn. Being born again would mean that just like a newborn baby, I can not differentiate between colors. As a baby, I don’t care what color you are or language you speak, or how old or calloused your hands are when they hold me, or what you believe in as long as it includes a belief in love, or what you eat for dinner, as long as I too, am fed. As a baby, I am not afraid of tomorrow, because today, it is enough to be alive.  And like a baby, I need you; and I have an innate, as yet unformed idea that you probably need me, too.

 

Tragically, our current identity in America has nothing to do with any ethical values that supposedly this nation or our supposedly major religion of choice were “founded on”. And although historically and factually it is highly debatable that either were in fact truly founded on these grand ideals and sacrificial selfless morals, there are still just so many truly good people trying to do good things, that if we can all just stop being afraid of the wrong things, there is great hope. We can still hope that more of us will actually want things like justice for all; life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness; all people viewed as equals; and just some straight-up real love of others in need. These are still very, very, very good ideals to strive for, both as individuals and as a nation. Don’t we want more people coming here who want to share those values with us?

 

Immigration, legal and otherwise, is a red herring in our national myth. I keep looking for those people who claim that America is the new Israel (God forbid if you actually read the Tanakh), or Christ’s Kingdom on earth (God forbid if you actually read the Gospel). But our actions speak lies louder than our words speak truth. So, feel free to espouse the values of self-first, that is very American. Feel free to espouse the values of I don’t want to share, that is very First World.  Go ahead and gripe and complain about what the people in power are doing or not doing if they are not on your team and go ahead and support the ones on your team no matter how much they lie and steal from you and the world at large.  Go ahead if you want and say, “I just don’t want any more people coming here”, fine, at least that is honest, although indefensible as a good ethical stance. But for the love of God, don’t claim that these ideas have anything to do with either American ideals or Christian values.

 

Real values and honestly earned virtues are hard things. A life of value does not come easily and will not stay, if it is not pruned and weeded. Fear is the antithesis of ethical living. And yet, as the greatest humans have always known, a life of true value without fear is also paradoxically very simple. “Love God as He Is and Love all others in the same way you love yourself.” “Pray humbly for your daily bread and let it be enough until tomorrow.”  “Be the change you want to see in the world.”  “There is nothing to fear, but fear itself.” “Love conquers all.”

 

Remember we all come from the same dust, and we all yearn for the same eternity.

 

It takes so much misguided effort to somehow do the mind -gymnastics or spiritual -voodoo necessary to say or think that we who are currently on top of the heap and who lead today in this nation, in these halls of justice, in these religious temples, in these mansions, and conglomerates of industry, deserve what we have while those who want in, do not. Many of us have of course come about our station by sincere virtue but none of us is here through something uniquely “value-able” to America. America is so obviously struggling with our worship of the false idol of capitalism. For people to continue to try to convince me that the issue of immigration specifically, but also the other important ethical issues of our times, are about claiming our superior ethics or morality or values, or God forbid, to somehow think that self-serving ideals or fearful hoarding of resources can be anything at all to do with democracy or Christianity, well… I am confused and I just don’t get it. But I am not confused about how afraid that makes me.

 

Blessed will be those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they shall be filled.

 

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“The fears” by giltay is licensed under CC BY-NC-SA 2.0

 

In Nature — A Poem

 

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In Nature

By Jane Tawel

September 2019

 

 

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In figs and pears

You oft appear,

And like the rose,

You rose

Despite the thorns.

 

 

What all I lack

In yon lilacs,

I find the glory;

As morning glories

Seek the same

Of the sun.

 

 

I too find rest,

Forever blessed

In The Son.

In bird and song

And honey bee throng

Like sparrows tended

By Your strong hand,

In sky and earth

In seas and land

You reign, You reign, You reign. . .

 

 

And like the rain

You fall on all

To grow the good

Among the weeds.

In winter mulch

Alive, all, much,

New life.

First, we die

Then rise to bloom.

Temporal as a weed,

But as The Rose of Sharon,

In death with You,  Eternal.

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The Parallelism Philosophy

I hope you will check out my latest post on Medium.com.  It is rather long, but something I have been working on and meditating on for a long time.  It is about how to live, how to think, and how to get balanced.  There is also a good exercise (I think) that I have invented for relaxing into finding balance in your life.  My philosophy is called The Parallelism Philosophy based on the idea of parallelism in writing and also the metaphor of a see-saw.  I hope you will find it useful and encouraging.

Shalom,  Jane  To read about my ideas, just click on my name in the link here:

View at Medium.com

 

 

Checkout “Suddenly, God” and Keep Reading

I recently published a piece on Medium.com. Medium is somewhat like WordPress, but different too.  It’s a great place to check out all kinds of stuff and almost daily I will make time to read some things I find on their website. I also follow a few writers there, as I do on WordPress.  I hope you will check out my latest and give me a clap if you like it.  If you don’t like it, find something else you do like and give an author a shout-out.  Authors, no matter how loudly they may write,  are really  timid and shy forest animals that need coaxing into the light.

My piece on Medium is an essay I reworked and did a major rewrite on called “Suddenly, God”.  If you have already read it on Medium or found it via my  LinkedIn page, thank you.  If you haven’t and want to read it you can go to my “friend’s link” here and click on my name in the picture:

View at Medium.com

 

Thanks for reading whatever you may find yourself reading today.  In these Orwellian times, reading seems vitally critical to the existence of humanity,  to me at least. But then reading has always been important to me.  To riff on Harper Lee , “Until I feared we would lose it, I didn’t preach about loving to read.  One does not love  breathing”.

Don’t just read  the headlines or infomercials or even the plethora of self-help blips, and I read all of these things. But set aside real time to read deeply and enjoy a good novel or short story or essay — there are lots of them.  Read stories and poetry and fairy tales and essays. As George Martin said, “The reader lives a thousand lives before he dies.  The person who never reads, lives only one.”

Live your lives today,  one book at a time.

Jane

Maybe Only God Can Make a Tree- But We Need to Plant Them by Jane Tawel

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Maybe Only God Can Make a Tree, But it is Up To Us To Plant Them

by Jane Tawel

July 5, 2019

 

Yes. Now. This. Trees. Please, Trees. I am a life-long lover of trees and Ents. If you can, please support a tree’s life and growth today, somewhere, somehow. The earth needs trees as direly as Middle-earth needed the Ents.  The following is a poem by Robert Frost, another lover of trees and the earth,  that seems ever more poignant today than when he wrote it.

 

“The Sound of Trees”

by Robert Frost
I wonder about the trees.
Why do we wish to bear
Forever the noise of these
More than another noise
So close to our dwelling place?
We suffer them by the day
Till we lose all measure of pace,
And fixity in our joys,
And acquire a listening air.
They are that that talks of going
But never gets away;
And that talks no less for knowing,
As it grows wiser and older,
That now it means to stay.
My feet tug at the floor
And my head sways to my shoulder
Sometimes when I watch trees sway,
From the window or the door.
I shall set forth for somewhere,
I shall make the reckless choice
Some day when they are in voice
And tossing so as to scare
The white clouds over them on.
I shall have less to say,
But I shall be gone.

 

This is a picture of one of the last remaining camphor trees on my street in my little town.  The rest were all murdered years ago so that people could build houses and sidewalks and not have their plumbing messed up by long, deep roots.  This stately, kingly 100-plus- year- old tree  messes up our house’s plumbing and our sidewalks. But I have told my family, if any one cuts down this leafy tree, I will, as the old joke used to go, “make like a tree myself and leave”. This is the tree that I “wish to bear forever close to my dwelling place”.

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I am a pessimist by nature and yet hope springs eternal within my chosen worldview. At the end of this post is an optimistic article on the very real possibility of planting trees in order to save our planet.  It will not involve reducing food-supply acreage nor will in impact urban areas, although I hope people will make changes on both of those fronts.  As a literary call to arms for our planet, I will use an other’s words, rather than my own. From J.R.R. Tolkien:

“The world is changing: I feel it in the water, I feel it in the earth, and I smell it in the air.” Words from that sage Ent, Treebeard and  J.R.R. Tolkien

 

I believe that we absolutely must start feeling both much more guilt, personally and collectively, and much more hope. We also must learn whom and what to love.  We must know what love means when it comes to our planet.  When we love our children, we care for them. The earth and all her wonders, are first of all a Creator’s children and by reason as well as command,  the earth and her wonders are human beings’ adopted children. And we have treated those earthly children of Nature, too much like pesky mosquitoes or weeds we don’t find attractive, or, maybe we are treating Nature’s progeny, more like we have the children of those pesky, asylum seekers at our borders. The Earth Herself seems to me to be crying out for asylum. Will we continue to destroy and deny Her her rightful place or will we become once more the caretakers and saviors we humans were created to be on our planet?  I have one suggestion if you only have time to do one more thing on your to-do list today.  Go outside somewhere, and look at something that man did not make or tamper with or create. And just for a moment, let the beauty of a dandelion, or a sparrow, or an apple, or a wriggly worm, or a star, or a crinkled, brown leaf touch you. And whenever possible, find a tree and let its beauty, smite your heart. And feel guilty for a moment at how we have forsaken our planet, and then let hope return.

 

“There, peeping among the cloud-wrack above a dark tor, high up in the mountains, Sam saw a white star twinkle for a while.  The beauty of it smote his heart, as he looked up out of the forsaken land, and hope returned to him”.  J.R.R. Tolkien

 

So, let’s all start somewhere today, shall we? Here are some things I try and need to try to do much better at.

 

Remember, the number one thing we can do is to reduce — reduce our use and need for more, more, more, more.  Don’t buy anything in or of plastic whenever possible. Ask to be sent less paper and when necessary, reuse the backs of paper products for making grocery lists. Use as little water as possible. Eat in and eat everything on the plate. Walk when possible, take more time, slow down, breathe, and look around at the trees.

 

Then we need to re-use. Use again, and again, again.  Wash out that baggie, and use it again. Better- don’t buy baggies (see above on reducing).  Buy a food compost-er. Shop less, get outside more and …. look at the trees.

 

And finally, recycle. Give things away to people who need them more. Make sure that cities and towns recycle goods appropriately. Recycle in-house, by using jars for vases, old sheets for rags, holey towels for doggie beds, and any other creative thing that people suggest for recycling ideas.  There are great sources in magazines, books and newspapers. And read them online because of course in that way you will help…….. save a tree.

 

I get discouraged, until I think of Frodo and my  own favorite LotR character, Sam Gamgee.  I have never seen the movies and hope I never will (my kids think I’m weird) but I have read the trilogy at least six and half times in my lifetime.  I feel like reading it again just talking about it.   But though I am easily disheartened,  I try to reduce my discouragement, reuse the hopes of history, and recycle the wisdom of all great saviors, both fictional and real. And I start again. Because as Tolkien says through the character of the disciple Samwise, “It’s the job that’s never started as takes longest to finish”.

 

So, while often my head wants to explode and I think, what’s the point?! I humble myself and do my small bit for the environment. On those walks I take when I see all the ugly pieces of trash people throw onto sidewalks and streets to litter my neighborhood, instead of feeling helpless to make a difference, I set myself the goal to pick up as many pieces of other people’s garbage as I can carry and give them decent burials in the closest trashcan. I hope that if someone sees me, they might pick up as many pieces of trash as they can — or maybe just not throw their trash in the first place, onto our beautiful planet. Each time I stoop down into the gutter to pick up someone’s tossed straw or plastic lid, I reward myself with the dreamy notion that I have saved a dolphin today, and that makes me carry on. I try not to grimace, although sometimes I admit I do. I smile and hum that old hymn, “This is My Father’s World”, and I hope to honor The Planetary Parent by caring for Her Creation. Sometimes, I will hum some remembered lines from the childhood of my heart: “Inchworm, Inchworm, measuring the marigolds. You and your arithmetic will probably go far. Inchworm, inchworm, measuring the marigolds. Seems to me you’d stop and see how beautiful, they are.” So, I pick up something ugly, and I look around, like the proverbial reformed inchworm I long to be, and I admire how beautiful the world’s metaphoric marigolds really are. This helps me stop the arithmetic in my head of how many pieces of trash I won’t be able to pick up today and throw away. So I measure how much I am doing, and vow to add more. Save the dolphins, save the trees and save the planet, one additional attempt at subtracting trash at a time.

 

I have shamed my family by conserving water through the “if it’s yellow, let it mellow” routine, and I turn the faucet off between face splashes, dishes, and leg shaves. I use a container in the sink and shower when possible to catch water to use in the garden. I am working on my addiction to buying things and of course, I am lucky enough to live in California where most stores don’t use one-use plastic bags any more.  There are environmentally friendly bags, albeit still plastic, for when I walk my dogs, so buying and using them is at least a step in the right direction. I haven’t figured out how to scoop poop with paper bags, so….. again, my motto is at least do everything I can today. Feel guilty when I fail. Feel happy when I succeed. And tomorrow do more.

 

All of my tithes and offerings now go to planet changers and people changers. There are many good people and groups and organizations throughout the world to choose from and to give even a couple of bucks to in order to support the cause of helping our planet live a bit longer than the projected 5-10 years we may have to turn it all around and to help re-achieve sustainable economics for people around the globe. I remind myself, that I have been admonished to bring the kingdom of God to earth, as it is everywhere in the heavens or in the unknown parts out there somewhere in God’s un-fallen, un-sinful, unpolluted cosmos.

 

I cheer my little, wee unimportant self on with the stories of Meg Murray and Calvin O’Keefe; of Frodo and Sam and Treebeard and (you won’t find in the movies these characters, also among my favorites!!) of Tom Bombadil and Goldberry. I remember the stories of Abel and Boaz and Abraham; and of Gandalf and the Lorax and Jesus;  and, oh, yes!– of all the real and imaginary small people who believed that the world did not belong to them but that they belonged to the world.  I privately ask myself and I soul-search among the Universe and the gods and The God; and the great Wizards and the long-memoried Ents; and the family that I love and the friends that I love,– I ask myself, in light of all of these –“what will my story be”? I ponder in my prayers to that Friend of Sinners, just as that wee hobbit Sam wondered to his own friend and Master: “What a tale we have been in, Mr. Frodo, haven’t we?”, Sam said. “I wish I could hear it told.  Do you think they’ll say: Now comes the story of Nine-fingered Frodo and the ring of Doom? And then everyone will hush, like we did, when in Rivendell they told us the tale of Beren One-hand and the Great Jewel. I wish I could hear it! And I wonder how it will go on after our part.”  Oh yes, it is humbling and necessary to reflect on how The Story will go on after my part, if I do my part.

Oh, look around today. Look at the kaleidoscopic colors and shapes of trees and the lovely hues of water. Look at faces of beloved ones, not just your people, but including the faces of trees and squirrels and marigolds. And ask yourself, “I wonder, how it all will go on after my part”?

One of my favorite authors and TED Talk presenters is Kathryn Schultz.  In her book, Being Wrong, Adventures in the Margin of Error, she writes about both the foolishness and the miracle of being human. I think what she says is of scriptural proportion when it comes to wondering about and wandering along on our planet as human beings:

“To err is to wander and wandering is the way we discover the world and lost in thought it is also the way we discover ourselves. Being right might be gratifying but in the end it is static a mere statement. Being wrong is hard and humbling and sometimes even dangerous but in the end it is a journey and a story. Who really wants to stay at home and be right when you can don your armor spring up on your steed and go forth to explore the world. ”  “The miracle of your mind isn’t that you can see the world as it is. It’s that you can see the world as it isn’t.”
Kathryn Schulz

I feel it is past time for us to stop being static when it comes to caring for our world. We must don our armor, as Schultz preaches, and go forth as humble heroes. We must not only tilt at windmills, we must make and use more of them to meet our need for energy. We must not only seek the holy grail, we must reuse the one we already own. We must not only change the course of our planet’s history, we must recycle the wisdom of saviors, and sages, and fiction-writers, and TED talkers, and trees. I sort of hope that someday, my tombstone might read: “Here lies Jane. She really tried”.

 

I am embarrassed and ashamed at how little I do and feel silly posting this with so many who are really living radically or responsibly. Please read about and find out about the real world-changers who are living lives well-lived before they return to the earth and before our planet is irrevocably changed for the worse forever. At the same time as I state how often I am wrong and how often I get bogged down by the world and the way it is,  I encourage any one reading this to just try. Just as I am trying to do, make a start. And try as Ms. Schultz says, to “see the world as it isn’t” and add, “yet”. The world isn’t perfect yet, but it can be. It once was. We just need to start doing our part and changing the story’s falling action and rewrite our fears and hopes about the story’s end.  As Sam Gamgee did. As our favorite fictional nanny might say to us children of the earth, “well begun is half done”. Just do it, and one small act will, when laced with and lashed to hope, lead to another small act, and all of us small people on our small globe really can make a difference, in our own hearts and lives, in our own communities, and I pray, on our own small planet.

We do not know what our own particular “ring” to carry might be. We never truly and unselfishly and without a great degree of fear, failure, and pessimism, want to take up our own cross to bear. Much as The Christ did not want to take up his cross but did anyway, we must just say, “No matter what I don’t know, no matter what people may think, no matter how afraid I am, no matter how I may fail–well, I’ll do it anyway”. And as Frodo found, in the end, it is the people who say, “I will take the ring, even though I do not know the way” who live best for The One who is The Way.

I am learning much from native and indigenous teachings on how to live in harmony with nature. I have also found the collection of poetry and reflections entitled The Psalms to be good food for the soul in terms of living universally with other beings and the matters of the universe.  I am encouraged by novels like “The Lord of the Rings”, “A Wrinkle in Time”, and “Howard’s End” along with the poets and visual artists who nudge us with reminders of earth’s beauty, in words and paints. Musicians like Ludovico Einaudi and Mozart and Dolores O’Riordan make my heart throb with both pain and with hope for humankind. There are many good books on spiritual paths to living in harmony with the Creator and Creation. Find one at your library that suits you. We have been tasked as human beings to care for the Creator’s creations and the created world we live in. In this, we do what we were designed to do in the beginning. In this, we are the imago dei and only in this, do we practice love to all. All.

 

The old chestnut by Joyce Kilmer, much memorized by school children in the later century, is considered sappy (are you following my intentional puns so far?) and has justly been rooted out from the vast forest of poems that are considered classics. But as a lover of poetry and a writer of, (and I apologize) at best, C- poetry, myself, I think it is unjust to lop off Kilmer’s creative intent and toss it into the woodpile with his sapling-sized rhymes.  I mean, c’mon, the guy had to contend with being called “Joyce”.

 

“Trees”
by Joyce Kilmer
I think that I shall never see
A poem lovely as a tree.
A tree whose hungry mouth is prest
Against the earth’s sweet flowing breast;
A tree that looks at God all day,
And lifts her leafy arms to pray;
A tree that may in Summer wear
A nest of robins in her hair;
Upon whose bosom snow has lain;
Who intimately lives with rain.
Poems are made by fools like me,
But only God can make a tree.

 

My secret dream is that someday,  when I am old and ready to pass on to the great unknown, my family can bury my body as food for the worms, wrapped in an ecologically-chemically free shroud near a body of water, next to a tree. If there are any weeping willows left on the planet, that would be a fitting place for this old romantic. I will be happy to give the last thing I own, my body, to feed a tree because so many trees have fed me, body and soul.  My family thinks I am morbid to think about being eaten by worms and tree roots, but when I think about it, I feel hopeful. Hopeful that when I die there might still be bodies of water and trees that still exist to feed the bodies and souls of my children and my children’s children. I hope to leave fewer carbon footprints behind but perhaps I shall manage to leave behind the footprint of one small skeletal love as a gift to my planet. I hope the world will receive the hopes of this insignificant person’s offerings, and that even in death, my love for this old world will be met by the hope of a new heaven and new earth. As the Great Man said, “Truly, truly, I say to you, unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains alone; but if it dies, it bears much fruit. He who loves his life loses it, and he who hates his life in this world will keep it to life eternal.”(Jesus as related in John 12: 24-25)

 

The seeds of our destruction are horrifically being sown everywhere, but if a tiny acorn can grow into a mighty oak, then I too, may hope to sow, where I do not reap, and to plant seeds of hope that may one day blossom into a restored and renewed world, for my children and my children’s children. I wear on a chain around my neck a small container of mustard seeds. My daughter, Justine gave it to me as a gift when she was very young to remind me that all I am required to have is a mustard-seed sized faith. Here’s a picture of a mustard tree and encouragement to believe what all our minuscule mustard seeds and a bit of faith in the goodness of our planet might achieve:

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In 1981, a program was started to help lost children survive in the wilderness. It was called “Hug-a-tree”.  In 2019, it is the trees that are lost and losing and that we must help to survive.  Become a tree-hugger today.  Perhaps, as the poet wrote only God can make a tree, but right now, right this minute, it is up to us to care for them. As Frost wrote, someday, I shall have less to say, so today I shall make the reckless choice and speak out. The Way of Truth and Light and Love is always the path least taken, but more of us need to start taking it if we want to save the world. Yes, let us take the path less taken, without trod-ding on more rain forests, or depleting more glaciers, or extinguishing more critters; let us take the path less taken of humility and hope and love for our planet; and in that way, we shall make all the difference.

 

 

Below is a link for the article from The Guardian on planting trees to save our planet. You will find many other good articles and resources in their section entitled “Environment”.

An Orphan Seeking The Great Spirit

An Orphan Seeking The Great Spirit

By Jane Tawel

June 9, 2019

 

I felt adrift at home within

Without, I felt a loss.

America’s vast greedy sins

Revealed themselves as dross.

 

I thought I might find Shangri-La

In Canada’s vast reaches,

But going there I saw it doesn’t practice

What it preaches.

 

I thought I’d fall in love with Spain,

But everywhere folk suffer pain,

One only has to take a glance

At England, Russia, China, France,

To see the world is wide and deep

In anger, sorrow, deeply steeped;

And looking through one’s foundling glasses

Does not make greener any grasses.

 

The Wise Ones counsel seeking Truth,

But don’t show where to find it.

I’ve spent long years just gathering clues

Now Spirit and Love must bind it.

 

It’s only inner peace combined

With outer love and open mind,

For Heaven on earth must find its start

Within a human’s contrite heart.

 

Oh, Great One Who created us,

Forgive our pillage of the Earth.

Please heal the hatred we have stoked,

Against our own and foreign folks.

Help me to find the narrow path,

So as not to incur Your wrath.

No matter where I live or roam,

Help me to treat the earth as home.

And may I live another day,

To follow The Great Spirit’s Way.

I offer You, my paltry best,

So, one day I may find my rest,

Not here in any temporal plain,

But in the Havens of Your Reign.

 

Until that day when I return

To dust and all the waste-lands burn

And world from World at last resumes

A safe, clean distance from The Doom.

When Mother Earth, reborn to life,

With no more evil, no more strife,

Will virginal, regain Her course,

Forever wed to Great Life Force.

 

Away from Earth’s small gratitudes,

I’ll seek the light, and love, and truth

Of The Great Spirit, Creator, God

And I shall humbly be awed,

By places, people, beings, times,

And through my feeble, awkward rhymes,

I’ll offer praise for all and All,

that spins around on this vast ball.

 

My heart is tender-footed.

My yearning is unwise.

You, Spirit of the Ages,

Please open my dark eyes.

Engage my hands to service,

In healing and in hope.

Accept this wandering orphan,

And purify my soul.

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So Easy to Mourn on Paper – a poem

 

 

 

So Easy To Mourn on Paper

By Jane Tawel

May 16, 2019

It’s so easy to mourn on paper.

Send a card,

Say a prayer,

Give a thought,

Act like you care.

 

It’s so easy to mourn at a distance;

Read the morning news,

Write a post,

Hop on the back

Of a famous quote.

 

The hard way comes with changing–

Just yourself,

Maybe the world,

Digging deep for

Love’s hidden pearls.

 

The difficult path is narrow.

Pretend their shoes you wear;

Not thoughts and prayers,

But sorrow.

 

It’s so easy to mourn on paper,

Where ink not ashes are worn.

But to mourn and die like a Savior,

Means to be completely reborn.

To cry like a little baby,

In need of a Great Big Daddy,

Is to know the day’s dark tragedy,

And a broken world’s true gravity.

 

But Oh! My soul connected

To Christ’s mourning

Is then resurrected,

By the hope of a God who mourns with us,

So that one day, we shall rise like Jesus.

 

It’s so easy to mourn on paper,

As a poet, oh, don’t I know it.

But to mourn with suffering others

Yes, strangers, yet somehow

 my sisters and brothers;

to not dry my eyes,

  but to weep by their sides

is at least one small stride,

In reducing my pride.

 

Blessed are those who cry

And cry,

And cry,

with those who cry,

“Save us, Adonai!”

 

For the long path of grief,

Goes a short way towards new life.

A baby is not born alive,

Unless The Physician hears cries.

Each day my rebirth

In The One who loved Earth,

Enough to bring life

To our sorrow and strife,

Will give my sad heart

Like a child, a new start.

And with that first breath and first weeping sight,

I breathe in God’s truth, God’s love, and God’s light.

 

If I die with Him

And mourn with them,

then

In that final morning

I will wake — no more mourning!

What a life that will be

When joy is so easy.

 

So God, help me today

And hereafter, each morning

To heed your Word’s warning

To do, not just say,

To act, not just pray,

To love, not just pen,

For enemy, and friend.

 

Like a baby just born,

Please God, help me to mourn;

To spread love of The Brother,

Christ, Who, like a mother,

Wept for us all.

For, we, After The Fall,

Had so lost our way,

That The Christ had to pay

For our lives, on the Cross.

So that all we have lost,

Through our sin and sorrow,

May just as the Christ,

Be restored on that  ‘morrow,

When tears are all dried,

And with Him we will rise.

 

Ah, Lord, help me to weep,

With a God who still seeps

Life through the pages

And through all the ages,

In The Word and The words,

in the flowers and birds,

in the fields and the stars,

and in each beating heart,

of Your children, boys and girls,

throughout the whole world.

 

Lord,  in You

Our love be made whole,

So that we may be holy.

Lord, in You,

Our words be true,

That we may be like You.

Lord, in You,

Our paths be straight,

So we may be healed from hate.

Lord, in You,

May our strengths be bound,

So that in You, our joy is found.

Lord, in You,

our mourning make blessed,

So, we may be resurrected.

 

It’s so easy to mourn on paper,

But so hard to do on Christ’s rood.

Yet, it’s only through blood

There is life from Above.

So no matter how crude,

I will suffer with you,

And in mourning

Will learn how to love.

 

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