Life-Lines — a poem

by Jane Tawel

https://unsplash.com/photos/se3tHNszbkM

Life-lines — a poem

By Jane Tawel

March 19, 2021

*

When I was young,

my mind and heart

were intertwined

like scribbled lines.

When one is young,

separating scrambled lines

is the monumental task

of growing-up.

I failed at much of it

but some lines straightened,

into the miracle of

Due North.

The dots and dashes,

the broken, mended bits of line

Still encompass and still

compass me forth.

*

When I became

Two, and then more;

and “my” became “our”

heart, mind and soul;

We formed a new me.

And I took the bow of us in hand, and

formed a straight arrow;

a line, shooting, aimed,

undeviating in communion,

unswerving in love;

propelling my life.

A streak of light — 

like the tail of a comet.

My love for you

became the trued lines of fortune

in the palms of my hands.

My love for you was

a life-line branching out,

like the shoots of roots

from an unbowed, unbending tree.

Like a line with no end,

I became

my love for you.

*

Now I grow old

and the lines of my life

form circles.

Circling, and circling, and circling;

back and around, back and around…

and sometimes I grow dizzy,

and sometimes I become whole.

The center holds

in the spiral of my life.

© Jane Tawel 2021

Sky and Earth in Rain- 4 Poems

by Jane Tawel

https://unsplash.com/photos/bWtd1ZyEy6w

Sky and Earth in Rain

Four Poems

By Jane Tawel

March 13, 2021

Poem One

*

Sky’s brow sweats with labor;

the earth is replenished

with heaven’s pleasing perspiration.

Earth, in her turn, turns.

Round and round and round

flinging ocean, sea, and pond

back into Sky’s opened-mouth face.

Sky as Heaven, Earth as Gaia,

powerful in servitude to each other;

delighting in shared toiling.

Earth dances, opening herself up

to Sky’s rain and — 

both, so in love!

Heaven and Gaia merge,

symbiotic in creation.

*

Poem Two

*

The blues of sky are borne-away

and seeming dead in grey hues,

mourning clouds as black as burial clothes,

the world looks up at the bereavement.

Only the old folks will watch the sky

and know — 

Surprising endings make the best stories.

*

Ah, the sky’s eyes are tearing-up!

Only the parents know

the welcome oxymoron of the heavens’ happy tears.

Light, though hidden, eyes though clouded,

Love’s light, like the sun, never leaves the heart.

*

Rain is heavens’ tears shed in joy.

The skies know that nothing ever really dies.

The casket opens around the keening clouds.

The heavens resurrect themselves

pouring the gift of life

into earth’s open-armed delight.

*

Poem Three

*

The canopy of sky folds,

and through the gaps of cover,

all heaven breaks loose;

the earth is bathed from head to toe.

And dirty roots and filthy feet and pining pinnacles,

are washed with grace of falling rain.

*

Poem Four

*

The sky husbands the earth,

his seed pours forth,

and earth open’s up to sky’s embrace.

*

Love, given and received;

the over-whelming mystery of earth and sky,

true soul- mates, wed forever,

bearing all.

The earth opens to

all sky’s love -spent pourings.

And at earth’s breast

all children are fed.

New life from married bliss.

© Jane Tawel 2021

Our Shakespearean Year

by Jane Tawel

Points in Case

Our Shakespearean Year

by Jane Tawel

February 27,2021

Our Shakespearean Year “of our discontent” drags on as we have “much to do about nothing” and it looks as if “tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow will creep on at this petty pace, to the last syllable of recorded time”; mostly “signifying nothing”. “We have seen better days”. But on the plus side, we have learned that “we know what we are, but know not what we may be”; and while “the course of true love never did run smooth”, we humans are still “what stuff as dreams are made of”. Let’s remember even if we would never choose this, “some people have greatness thrust upon them”. As we approach a spring in which we wish things were normal again, let’s “Beware the Ides of March” and remember that “nature does require her time of preservation”. “To be or not to be” is a matter of staying safe, staying sane and staying diligent. If you think this “lady doth protest too much”, I apologize for my “lack of brevity”. Yet there are “more things in heaven and earth than are dreamt of in my philosophy”. But “friends, Chosen, countrymen, lend me your ears” but once more: “let us love each other more than words can wield the matter, dearer than eyesight, space and liberty”. “Love sought is good, but given unsought is better”. So keep masking, keep tasking, but remember if you are alive you have a “treasury of ever-lasting joy”. And to each of you “here, I hope, begins our ever-lasting joy” as “there is nothing good or bad but thinking makes it so”. “The miserable have no other medicine but hope” and now vaccines; so get yours as soon as you can. And when you despair turn outward, yes, “God shall be our hope, our stay, and our lantern to our feet”. Now I must go, ah friends, “parting is such sweet sorrow but I shall say good-bye, til it be morrow; my necessaries are embarked! Adieu!” When this is all over there are a few I must admit I am glad we will “be better strangers”, and my friends may not recognize me as I have become “as fat as butter”. But though the past year has often seemed “as tedious as a twice told tale”, remember that “love looks not with the eyes but with the mind”. So “from the records of our memories, we will wipe away all trivial records”, and keep “remembering such things as are most precious to us”. And frankly sequestering has reminded me that, “our lives, exempt from public haunt, find tongues in trees, books in the running brooks, sermons in stones, and good in everything”. “Thou seest, we are not all alone unhappy!” “I love long life better than my husband loves figs!” Oh folks, “the time of life is short, to spend that shortness basely were too long!” So “to thine own self be true” and just do something good for yourself today, because “nothing will come of nothing”. My “parting is such sweet sorrow” for me but but I know you are thinking, “for this relief much thanks!” But I thank you for your “flattery in friendship” since “I count myself in nothing else so happy, as in a soul remembering my good friends”! Be assured that “self-love, my friend, is not so vile a sin as self-neglecting”. So grab on to your best purpose today and believe, “it is not in our stars to hold our destiny but in ourselves”. “Love all, trust a few, do wrong to none. And Please — if you only remember one thing that Shakespeare said, remember this: “Thy life’s a miracle”!

(apologies to the Bard — Jane) (c)2021

No More — And Yet…

By Jane Tawel

https://unsplash.com/photos/qi8LhjI8-nE

No More — And Yet…

By Jane Tawel

February 25, 2021

*

There are no pictures any more

and yet we long to be seen.

We live inside our own closed doors,

and silently rage against the routine.

*

There are no words we want to share

and work is just a grind.

And even those for whom we care

just often slip our minds.

*

The lives of grey inanities

are revelatory — true.

We miss our shared humanity

and hopeful, bright worldview.

*

The days go ever on and on

just one day like the other.

We long for plans to bank upon

and health that’s been recovered.

*

But I have found in all of this

both listlessness and sorrow,

that I have changed my own wish-list

for better days tomorrow.

*

I’ve learned to care more for my kin

and even those I don’t know.

I’ve found a greater love within

and hope that Love will grow and grow.

*

I’m not encouraging deceit

on just how bad it’s been.

But neither is it utter defeat;

I think there’ve been some wins.

*

So maybe take some time today

to focus on the “shoulds”,

of how to live in better ways,

to love and do more good.

*

For even while we’re stuck and scared

and feeling like we just don’t care,

as long as we have one last breath

we live in hope of fighting death.

*

If I lose sight of The Sublime

I die inside, before my time.

So though imprisonment’s annoying,

Today I’ll choose to do some “joying”.

I’ll count the “no mores” with some regret,

Then cling like crazy to the “yet”!

*

No more — and yet…. . . . . .

I have loved and been loved.

I have sung and danced.

I have listened and been heard.

I have won and lost and learned from both.

*

I am hopeful in a new day.

I choose to look for joy in small things.

I fan the flames of faith to believe there is One Who cares for us.

I breathe out and in and feel the warmth of the blood that flows through me.

My heart still beats as evidence that life is anticipatory.

There are those whom I long to be with and those whom I hope to know better.

Wisdom and knowledge are waiting for me to discover them.

Goodness lives beyond place and time and Love is forever alive in the Universe.

This tiny taste, this small sound, this faint feeling, this sweet smell — 

are each and all worthy of my honored attention.

Taste and know that life is delicious.

And while I can still see anything, I can imagine everything.

*

Friend, hope is here for the taking. No matter how dark it may feel, take hope in your hands today and make something — even something very small — but make something beautiful to light your way.

© Jane Tawel 2021

Once This Is Over

Horse Drawn Plow
“Horse Drawn Plow” by Tom Gill. is licensed under CC BY-NC-ND 2.0

Once This is Over

A Meditation

By Jane Tawel

November 7, 2020

Meditation 1

Once they, whoever “they” are, stop slapping our hands away, I hope they will see a hand reached out, straight and true, to show The Way.

Once they, whoever “they” are, find that fear can not lead, and hate can not win; I hope we will walk in peace.

Once “they”, whoever they were, embrace the love of “We”; we will find that as One, we live.

*

Once there, wherever “there” is, we must make all things beautiful.

Once there, wherever “there” leads, no one will feel alone.

Once there, wherever “there” may be, our joy will be full; and we will come Home to “The Here”.

*

Once this is over, whatever “this” is, I hope to plan again.

Once, this is over, whatever “this” is, I plan to Hope again.

*

Meditation 2

*

Once I believed that if I kept trying and working and winning, that I would get “There”.

Now, I know that if  let go, live well, and love true, that “Here” finds a home in my heart.

*

Once, I thought “They” should fix it, take care of it, change it, and do something.

Now, I know it has always been up to me to accept it, care for it, share in it, and Be Love.

*

Once I thought “This”, was all there was.

Now, I believe it is only the beginning,

and Goodness and Love have no end.

*

*

Once, I asked “why me?”.

Now, I ask, “why not We?”.

Let us put our joined hands together to the plow,

 and not look back, but gaze forward.

©Jane Tawel 2020

This Heart -a poem

This Heart — a poem

by Jane Tawel

“Chasm” by Swissendo is licensed under CC BY-NC 2.0

This Heart

By Jane Tawel

September 7, 2020

*

This heart,

I can not hold.

Its beat escapes me,

Like the sound of a diffident drum.

*

And yet, I long to look somewhere,

to find the source.

In my mirror, perhaps?

Or in the stars or skies, 

or someone’s smile?

In the crevices of my childhood,

awash with bits of benevolence

amidst the scars 

deeper than the chasms of remembered wounds?

*

Or does this heart move and bleed apart from me;

a willing and unwilling partner,

a sometimes pacemaker of my soul,

keeping alive that which measures the motions 

echoed timelessly and in my time,

 in the clefts of consciousness

 chalked with crumbs

of stories, myths, and songs?

A heart may be, as one for all and all for one,

for heroes, villains, and all children born?

*

This heart, hidden in

The girth of eternity — 

I want to wrest it

From my chest

And see there in the last moments,

 the pulsing light of

That organ that best encompasses

The meaning of myself.

*

Not half a brain between us;

my heart and I yearn,

Not for grand ideas or vast knowledge,

But for the scratched-out wisdom

That comes only

With the pain of loss,

The shortness of the season,

And the hope of love.

*

This heart

That throbs foolishly

without sense;

calls to me to free it from

the prison of myself;

opening up riches

from my chest

to bleed its treasures elsewhere.

© Jane Tawel 2020

.

The Book Tree

The Book Tree

By Jane Tawel

August 9, 2020

GBR_0405.JPG

“GBR_0405.JPG” by Glenn Rose is licensed under CC BY-NC 2.0

 

There is an ancient Book. It began as one life, The Tree of Life, the Tree of Jesse, and it has sent seeds throughout the world, which have taken deep roots, growing into a mighty, world-reaching forest of life-giving beliefs.

 

Some people have taken the Book Tree’s branches and turned them into tentacles to ensnare. Some have taken the Book Tree’s roots and poisoned them in their desire to destroy the Life that the Book Tree offers.  Some have worshipped the Book, and forgotten that a Book is just a book; and that it is always about something that is more real than any words on a page can hope to convey.  And some have used the Book Tree for personal gain and profit, cutting away the branches so the fruit can not be easily gleaned by those in need, but only gorged on by those hogging the sectioned-off branches.

 

There are many people who have taught me about The Book, some because they understood its meaning and some because they refused to. A person can learn from those who get it right and from those who get it wrong, and that is the wonderful thing about this Book; it is full of stories of people who got the messages in it right and those who got it wrong.  I have learned that the Book has stories about people who from the beginning of Time have been just like me – full of pride, full of brokenness, full of a desire to give in to the temptations of self-centeredness, full of fear, and full of need.  I have also learned from the stories that people have always been just like the best of humans that I know – full of courage in the face of danger, full of love in the face of hate, full of determination in the face of injustice, full of faith in the deepest darkness, full of hope in what we can not see yet, and full of something that can always be a little, better, a little higher than the beasts but always still a little lacking, a little yearning, a little lower than the angels.

 

I have learned in the Book that people have mostly gotten it wrong, but that as long as there is breath, there is the possibility of finally getting some things right. In the Book the only thing that counts is that you admit when you get it wrong and that you keep trying to get it right and that in the end, if you get it right, you’ll be okay. The Book calls this “forgiveness”.

 

I have learned that if you are my friend, that does not mean I should make your enemy my enemy.  The Book teaches that there is only one “team” that matters and that I should try to play for it; and that team is not in competition with any other team,  but  it is the one sharing with everyone else.  I have learned instead of keeping my heart hardened toward an enemy, that if I try to understand and have compassion for everyone, then I will have no enemies, but only brothers and sisters. The Book calls this “love”.

 

The Book has taught me that I, like all before and after me, have many choices of what to believe, but that if I want to believe what The Book teaches, then there is One Being that I should worship whose name no one knows but Who nonetheless, “IS”.  “I AM” is the sole consolation of The Book; there is no other prize, no other meaning than relationship with Holy Otherness. The Book is clear, and yet not comforting about this God.  The stories teach that there is a Creator of this world and of me (and of you); that there is a Parent who is Love; that there is a Conscience Reality that judges between Good and Evil; and that there is a Giver who loves to give what is truly Right and Good for the Created Planet and for the Creatures we are. That’s it.  That’s all we get to trust in about what we long to know.  Trusting in this and acting on it,  believing against all odds, and despite our lack of knowledge and assurance, is what The Book calls “faith”.

 

The Book has taught me that there were many humans that lived Good Lives, lives lived all in CAPS with exclamation points behind them; GOOD PEOPLE!!!! and that every single one of them sacrificed and suffered a lot to do the right things. The Book has taught me that it is these suffering servants who really get what this life on earth has to offer that is best of all;  and that the people who think this life is about getting more, earning more, hoarding more, of anything, including wealth or power, never really live as we were created to live.  We should feel sorry for these people, not envy them, at least that is what The Book teaches.

 

The Book has taught me there were many people who were saviors of their people, and that there was one person who lived a perfectly Good Life and he is The Savior of all. He was also the most suffering servant of all, so it is astounding that so many people since he lived on earth claim they want to live like he did. Of course, it is hard to come up with actual examples of any of us who have lived like The Good Man lived, but the point is, so many people keep trying to, and that has made all the difference ever since.

 

The Book has taught me to follow the example of all of the Good People in the World, even if they never have read the Book or know anything about the God in it. The very best person to follow in life is the One Perfect Human, but this person is a very, very, very hard person to follow.  He is a hard act to follow and at the same time, he is also exactly like me. And so, the Book teaches that I have great responsibilities, great need of forgiveness, and great hope of rebirth into the kind of Life that this particular Savior who is part of the Story of The Book, taught us about. This Man is what The Book calls “Son of God”.

 

The Book teaches me that every human comes into the world with a sense of right and wrong called a conscience, but that our conscience is a part of us like our hands or our lungs or our livers, and we can either care for and nurture our conscience or we can abuse and starve it, so that it becomes weak and sickly.  The Book teaches that there are universal laws that will lead to being the best sort of human our species can offer and that everyone knows these laws but also that everyone always wants to make new laws that aren’t good for everyone or to apply the laws to others to follow but not follow themselves.  The Book teaches that unless we follow the laws of caring for the planet and for all who live in it, then we are lost.  This is why the Book teaches that the one thing most hated by the God of The Book and by our own best natures, is our ability to turn Truth into Lies. The Book teaches that from The Beginning, when First Man and First Woman lied to The God and lied to each other, that that is when they began to die.  Lies are the roots of Death.  The Book teaches us that we can kill our conscience, that we can kill that very thing that makes us “like gods”.  This thing that is in all of us that we are to care for above everything else is what The Book calls “the soul”.

 

The Book teaches that though we may not see it clearly, there is beyond the mist and fog and in the darkest of darknesses, a Light of Truth that has no end.  This Truth can only exist as a Co-Creator with Love. And Love as a powerful force of Goodness and Truthfulness and Joy is that which will remain long after The Book is no longer needed, on earth as it is EveryWhere THE IAM of LOVE lives.

 

 

I learn from The Book about Life and what the stories in The Book do in my own life and my own relationships and my own Relationship, is a matter of how I live each day in The Garden. Like seeds planted, each moment, it matters on an unfathomable scale, how I choose to nurture those seeds, how I protect them from weeds and drought, how I nourish them, how I grow them, and how I trust in The Sun to freely give them Life.  The Book teaches that to whom much is given, much is required of her to give back, to give others, to give forth, to give freely.  Because The Book teaches me that there is nothing to fear if I keep my hand to the plow and the other hand outstretched to my neighbor and that I can live boldly and joyfully, like the other people whose stories are told in The Book. I can be at peace in this world with a “peace that passes understanding”.  The Book calls this “wholeness” or “shalom”.

 

I am so grateful to have found the Book, so many years ago now.  It is a compass that always points to True North, it is a map and a guide on The Way; it is a consolation in times of trial, a rod and staff when I err and need redirected; it is a wealth of good tales with stirring events and teaching moments, with characters that I can relate to, admire, and either cheer or boo; it is a source of eternal proverbs and excellent poetry; and it is an eternal clarion call to live justly and righteously in a world of naysayers. And greatest of all, The Book is a hint – a small little hint—that there is Someone who wants to know me and be known by me and that That Otherness called simply “I Am” is as real as the Perfect Love that I have always imagined truly exists.

 

The Book is a Tree, and we are the branches. Let me reach forth my own small branch so that even the small birds of the field may find shelter there. Let me be secure  in the Truth that The Tree produces enough fruit for all and let me share the fruits of my own small labors and my life so that all may live in the shade of  Love. Let the leaves of The Book be like leaves of a mighty forest bringing Life to the whole world.    May it be so for you and for me in this very moment ~~ Jane

 

But I am like a green olive tree in the house of God. I trust in the steadfast love of God forever and ever. (Psalm 52:8)

 

 

“The visions of my head as I lay in bed were these: I saw, and behold, a tree in the midst of the earth, and its height was great. The tree grew and became strong, and its top reached to heaven, and it was visible to the end of the whole earth. Its leaves were beautiful and its fruit abundant, and in it was food for all. The beasts of the field found shade under it, and the birds of the heavens lived in its branches, and all flesh was fed from it.”                        (The Book of Daniel 4:10-12)

(c) Jane Tawel 2020

 

Awkward Questions We Must Ask During This Pandemic —  Even if It Means Losing a Friend

image from Politico

Awkward Questions We Must Ask During This Pandemic —

Even if It Means Losing a Friend

By Jane Tawel

July 1, 2020

 

When I first became a mom and had my four wonderful children, now all grown and adulting, I loved being with them, caring for them, watching over them like a mother hen. And so most playdates included me. I was always a bit cautious about dropping my children off with other people, even if I knew them, was good friends with the parents, or possibly even was related to them. It wasn’t exactly that I didn’t trust them but….. I didn’t trust them. I mean I didn’t trust anyone but their loving dad, to truly love and watch-over and protect and care about my kids as much as I would. I never minded other parents dropping their kids at my house and was always a hawk on the sidelines trying to ensure safety to all the children, even the ones who were not mine. If I had to leave the swimming pool as a lifeguard, ALL the kids had to get out of the water (“But Mom we’re teenagers now”. “Too bad, out.”) The one time my kids were in a hot tub at a friend’s house, and I asked her to watch my kids while I went to breast-feed the baby, my daughter almost drowned right in front of my friend. Luckily her sister was there to save her. So, call me overprotective, call me a worry-wart, call me a helicopter mom — all true — if it was about safety and protection. I didn’t try to protect my kids from risk or failure, or learning or fighting their own relational battles — but physical safety — heck yeah! I believed that as long as I could, I would do my very, very best to protect them. Now, since they are young adults, the most I can do is caution and pray (and they will confirm I do plenty of both — still my job).

 

But then all the kids started getting old enough to want sleep-overs. It would have been rather weird for them if I had insisted that if they wanted to sleep over at a friend’s house, their mom — I — would have to sleep-over too. And of course, I didn’t do that. But I did often have to say no to sleep overs, especially if I didn’t know the family or other kids or parents that well. But even if I did know them fairly well, I would always have to ask this very awkward question: “Do you have guns in the house and if so, where and how to you store them?”

 

Asking someone if they keep guns at home is a bit like asking someone on a first date if that’s a pimple or a cold sore on their lip. Awkward! However, this thing about guns in this country is something people think very, very differently about, and so when you ask a very reasonable question, it feels intrusive because people see it as political. For me it had nothing to do with my view of guns or my view of my friends — it had to do with, “will my child be as safe as possible at your home, and do you consider this an important safety issue like I do?” This was something I had learned to ask as a careful, discerning parent, and yes, some people got offended, and yes, some people might have lied, and yes, some relationships fell apart even, but at the same time, asking might have made not only my kids safer but made those families safer too, if they found out they or their own friends were not treating gun ownership and storage with the seriousness it should be. I knew without a doubt, that even if it was an awkward conversation, I would rather my children and I be “safe and not sorry”. You see, my children’s lives are the most precious gifts I have ever, ever received and I wanted to treat them as such. I would never get another one of J, C, V, or G — my unique and oh, so special four children — and so I didn’t mind being considered a bit overprotective, even if it cost us a “fun time”; even if it cost us a friend.

 

Fast forward to 2020, and some of us who would rather be “safe than sorry” have got to start being “the careful parent” of our own lives and the lives of others. As Corona Virus continues to rampage through our nation, we may not be able to control other people’s foolishness or lack of care about their own or our safety — but we CAN control their access to us, do our best to not be unaware of or ignorant of their behaviors both in our presence and apart from us, and speak out when necessary. We do have the right, awkward as it may feel, and the responsibility to protect ourselves and our children, and our children’s children. We must truly take seriously any possible threat to our well-being, even if “those people” do not. But just like guns, some people see the safety precautions and their rights to do whatever they want with the weapons of this virus as a political issue. Don’t let them do that to you. It is not — any more than gun safety is a political issue. It is a life-issue and a safety-issue and an issue about how much we care about each other. And so it feels intrusive and awkward to bring the subject up, but if we start caring more about our health and safety and the health and safety of others, more than we care about our feelings or egos or politics, then we will make having these awkward conversations just one more part of the new normal. We will make asking the right questions of others a matter of caring about them, and we will willingly share with others what they need to know before they decide to meet with us. We will be honest, even with our most casual acquaintances and we will be truthful with ourselves when we ask, “is this event worth my giving up something in the future with people I love?” And dear, dear folks — we need to start having these conversations before we get together with other people.

 

And sometimes the hardest conversations are with the very people who are your best friends and your beloved family. Having to ask your parent or child, “by the way, before you come over, what have you done this week, how safe were your co-workers this week, and are you still wearing a mask and washing your hands like a surgeon”? Last week, when we were lulled into a sense of security (false as it turns out this week) that maybe we could have another couple over for a socially distanced, outdoors, bring your own food and utensils, keep it distanced and keep it short little get-together at our house, we made all the arrangements until I mentioned the time. Then my friend (who is 70 years old and has been quite careful about following all the protocols during the pandemic / quarantine) asked if we could make it later in the day since the day before we were to meet, they would be hosting a party for a friend’s son who was graduating high school and she would be hosting 30 -40 other people. Yep. True story. I was rather flabbergasted and yes, blindsided. So my hubby and I discussed it and I texted her a very kind, sweet text asking if we could delay the get-together and she was very kind and texted back, ‘of course we could’. But here’s the scary part — if she hadn’t mentioned it in passing, I would never have known how many other households I would be exposed to through her the very next day. I never would have known if she hadn’t let it slip that her “gun was loaded in an unlocked drawer” so to speak.

 

So here is the gist, the bottom line, the stern warning, the upshot, the please, please, please let’s all commit to doing this. We absolutely must start quizzing people about where they have been and with whom and for how long and what protections they used when they did it — BEFORE we get together with them. Remember that old adage that every one your mate has had sex with, you technically have also had sex with? Well, corona virus is like that, y’all, but the thing is — if you’re asymptomatic or have just recently been exposed — you don’t even know that you’ve “had sex” with the virus. So, abstinence is finally the right solution folks — and we do that by sacrificing pleasure for the long term health of all us, and by masking up, social distancing, washing like a surgeon, telling each other the truth, and making good (even when tough) decisions for those we love.

 

We can’t be embarrassed around each other or irritated if someone asks us about our exposure or if we have been following protocols with the Corona Virus — this is killing us folks! We certainly cannot keep being offended if someone asks us to follow the safety guidelines when we are with them and we must stand up to those who act offended by our desire to protect ourselves and our children from them — (do I need to say it again? THIS IS KILLING US.) Just like asking if someone’s guns are stored in a safe, locked lockbox, we have to start asking people if they have been “locking down” the threat of their corona virus possibilities. Just like I never believed (without proof) someone who would say, “oh don’t worry, I’ll watch your kids” or “how dare you ask, my kids would never do such and such” or “don’t worry I’m very careful with the gun I keep loaded in my bedside drawer” we can’t pretend that all of us don’t stretch the truth to protect ourselves from criticism or from having to change our behaviors. We can’t really keep expecting to believe that others are being careful to protect their own health or mine, unless we are willing to converse, and communicate, and dialogue. And we should not shy away from a little bit of questioning and a commitment to get some reasonable answers on the part of those we would like to be with.

 

I will promise to never be offended if family or friends quiz me about whether I am doing my part for their safety. I won’t get my hackles up even if my very own children say to me, “Mom, we can’t come over this Saturday because you went to such and such a place and were with such and such a group”. I know they are saying no to being with me in order to protect me and because they know how much I love them. They may understand my choices to do “such and such”, just like I might understand their choices or a friend’s choices and we may be perfectly fine, even in agreement with — even applaud — some of those choices to do things with other people or attend something that is important. BUT approval and agreement for each other’s choices as important enough to perhaps do something that risks our health, means that we will not be able to do “our things” together if it means we won’t be safe together — not until this horrible plague is over. And God willing, someday it will be over. Then — we can all literally and figuratively breathe easy, and “let the parties and concerts, and museum trips, and play dates and sleep overs begin!!

 

What it means to do the right thing right now by all that we have been entrusted with, is that we must be willing to be seen as overprotective if necessary, even if it costs us a “fun time”, even if we lose a friend, even if someone is offended. We just cannot risk the worst by hoping for the best. We absolutely must not send off our lives to a risky play-date situation or entrust our health to an unsafe sleep over. We must prove that we can trust each other, by honestly communicating with each other. And — If we haven’t already, we must begin to treat our health and well-being as the precious gifts they are. We won’t be getting any other lives with which to replace these very unique and special ones we have, and just like our children, our lives are counting on us to protect them.

Loss and Love Becoming

By Jane Tawel

Welcome to Happy Town..

“Welcome to Happy Town..” by In Memoriam: Mr. Ducke is licensed under CC BY-NC 2.0

Loss and Love Becoming

By Jane Tawel

June 15, 2020

And so, we watch.  And listen.  There is sometimes nothing more. And sometimes the least we can do, is the best we can do.

 

And so, as all things must end, we grasp the final straw of a moment, wishing we could start a new haystack, start all over again, building something permanent, not something so easily burnt-up, burnt-out, smoldering within the hazy, choking smoke of our agonizing defeats.

 

And we look away from the fires, and we do not reach out our hands. These fires do not warm us. We run to the water, knowing that nothing lasts but the ebb and flow of life and death, life and death, life and death… like waves coming to shore but leaving for somewhere unkept.

 

Wishing hard will hurt the heart, but giving up will kill the soul. There can be no end to the mercy we must grant our pain.

 

“Yesterday, I should have done”. “Today, I must”. We tell ourselves tall tales while, Tomorrow beckons like a small flame easily snuffed-out by loss.

 

Each moment can be a new beginning to the hopes nestled in our cherished memories. Each intention falls short unless propped-up by a letting-go of self-containment. There is no joy in the prison of one’s certainty of aloneness nor in the sham of the inevitability of acceptance.

 

We do not long for a god residing somewhere past death, but crawl along the helpless shards of our afflictions for Someone better, Someone bigger, Someone who is not us but is with us. And every loss is a death and every death a loss.

 

And yet…. And yet ….

 

the soul responds to uncertainty with the certainty that death and loss are an illuminating darkness and darkness is what we were created to overcome. We fight the unacceptable with our acceptance that we are broken and with the stubborn wills of our need for wholeness.

 

We have never known wholeness. Its adopted spurious offspring are myths born of the illegitimacy of our need to numb our emotions and quell our rational fears. We claw at the desire to forget, clinging to forgetting like a raft in a hurricane. We remember in a panic and hold-on for dear life, for dear life, for dear life… to that which has almost drowned us and that which has kept us afloat.

 

In the suddenly YES! — we sometimes see fragments of a dappled radiance among divine clues hidden in plain sight in the world’s penumbra. We co-exist with Deity when we, weeping, Yearn.

We reveal ourselves to be that which from whom we most want to blind ourselves. And in our darkest nights, we awaken to a brilliance made porous by our pain. In the dawns of our best loves, we rise with tattered wings made translucent with the practice-flights of time.  Only with holes gaping in our souls, can there be light for the long journey.

 

We are most luminous when we are most changeable. The shadows see our lambent light and flee.

 

We long to look at loss and pain as dross, best left uncovered, undiscovered, unused. But pain is a geode, a hard, dirty clod, formed in fire, hiding its truth deep within.  Our hearts must be broken to find the glory nestled inside of us. The hard things formed in fire, when broken and opened, reveal a crystalline universe of reflective beauty, as substantial as heartache, as durable as hope, as fierce as love, as illuminating as the truth behind a waterfall of tears.

 

Every loss is a piece of the soul’s broken imagination. Each loss awaits the sticky residue of our tears, the paste of our determination, and the glue of our love. We gently hold our sorrow as long as it takes to see where it belongs, before we stick-back into place the broken part, reforming the wholeness within us.

 

The pieces of pain dug out from our depths are laid down, piece by piece, like small tiles, laid next to the bits and chunks of love we have mined- out from the moments of our best selves, and as we lay-down piece by piece of loss and love and love’s losses and losses’ loves next to each other, the mosaic of our life takes its exquisite shape. And it is dangerous and it is awesome to behold.

 

And with all the love and all the loss, we create the kaleidoscope of our celestial luminosity. And this is who we may yet become.

Geode

“Geode” by bobandcarol71661 is licensed under CC BY-NC-ND 2.0

(c) Jane Tawel 2020.

 

 

The Mind is a Flibbertigibbet

Face

“Face” by ShellieMW is licensed under CC BY-NC-SA 2.0

 

“The Mind is a Flibbertigibbet”

A Poem About Living for Now for Tomorrow

By Jane Tawel

May 18, 2020

*

There’s so much static in my brain,

It really gives my heart a pain.

Like flotsam, jetsam, bits of junk,

The thoughts skip by like naughty punks.

I offer to you, J’s Exhibit,

Of my mind, “Case Flibbertigibbet”.

*

Like gnats that bite at things I’m wishing,

For Future’s goals I’m always fishing.

And even when I tell myself,

Tomorrow’s plans must still stay shelved,

I waste the joy in presently,

To try to shape my destiny.

I lose today’s respite and laughter,

By hankering for a blank hereafter.

Could anything less real be dafter?

*

The Past talks trash and keeps on dissing,

With memories, in action missing.

The people, places, faces, finds,

Just roam like vultures through my mind.

They pick and swoop ‘til I’m afraid,

These flashbacks will never decay.

The Past will always be at most,

As insubstantial as a ghost.

It’s best to let my yesterdays

Inform and shape my current ways,

But not to let them roam unchecked,

And joy and purpose, now infect.

For Yesterdays only provide,

Real meaning if we let them guide,

Our current choices and our options,

for Tomorrow’s new adoptions,

of a Life– no matter how small–

that makes a better World for All.

*

So, Now’s the Time I must stop whinging,

And on the negative stop binging.

I’ll give my thoughts a well-earned rest

And focus on the good and best,

Which are not found within my brain,

But in the organ where Love reigns.

The heart’s the true and only center,

Where bad and good can freely enter,

But I decide what I’ll let stay,

Within my heart and soul today.

*

 

My mind can be so adolescent,

I must involve a deeper Essence.

I’ll stop my endless overthinking,

And to my better self, start linking,

Remembered joy and future hopes

But not false dreams or sulky mopes.

Each day I walk a thin tight-rope,

To love, and act, and sometimes cope,

With thoughts that can be used as leeches,

To heal, and grow in all Life teaches.

*

The best’s begun with just a start,

At firing up my loving heart.

Then I delight in fair Creation,

And wallow in imagination,

Of what the world can truly be,

And sometimes letting go is key.

And sometimes we must take a stand,

For Future’s sake, we do need plans.

But there’s a fine line, if I’m truthful,

Between thoughts petty or thoughts useful.

So if I start with my mind emptied,

Of dross, then I will not be tempted,

To focus on the new or old,

But cling to only Today’s gold.

*

The way to change my attitude,

Is by some focused gratitude,

For all I have, am, and believe,

About the meaning of what we’ve,

As human beings have achieved;

And what we’ll dream and do once more,

If only each of us cares for,

The Goodness we can find right now.

If we put our hands to the plow,

And water, plant, and weed and furrow–

Why then, we’ll have a bright Tomorrow.

*

So off you go flibbertigibbet,

Until the next time that you visit,

When I’ll be ready to do my part,

To help my mind with stronger heart.

*

May your thoughts Today be turned to gold, and your hopes for the Future rest in your great ability to feel loved and to do Good.  Be safe, be sane, be hopeful — Jane