Love – Page 2 – Jane Tawel

The Problem Starts with “Me”

The Problem Starts With “Me”

By Jane Tawel

July 15, 2025

The problem comes when I say, “me”.

The problem comes when I say, “mine”.

Then it’s so easy to disagree,

with those who are so oft inclined,

to disagree with Me.

There were some folks who seemed to know,

The Causes and the Outcomes.

They taught that where our treasures are

are where our meaning comes from.

And while this life is fleeting fast

and Space is just a construct

and though Death always seems abrupt,

The Wise Ones know, this too shall pass

and yet, Love’s Spirit always lasts.

So, I am whittling bit by bit

away at what is “mine”.

The Know-it-All that I once was,

is now the Seeker and I find,

that in each person’s form on Earth,

a treasure deeply hides.

No longer do I need to see

just their opposing side,

for they are just the same as I,

and all their fears can be dissolved,

if I choose to be kind.

In every person, large and small,

no matter place or race,

beats the same longing, hoping heart,

behind each temporal face.

And when my life is over,

as every life will be,

then if I didn’t know before,

I’ll know then, that there never was

just “mine”, “myself”, and “me”.

For we are all connected

and One with The Great Source.

I am a ray of Sun Light.

You are a wave of Ocean.

The Dawn will break the dark of Night,

and every argument and notion

will fade before Truth’s purging might.

We are a link in Life’s Great Chain,

and when we die, we’ll wake to find,

that only Love Remains.

A silly word, this word called “love”,

A word that can not hold,

the depth, and breadth and width and height

if all Love’s stories were all told.

Oh, what, instead of fears and fights,

one Person’s Love could do!

So I’ll begin, just little me,

and I’ll start by loving you.

And whether you’re beloved child,

or friend, or stranger or foe,

I’ll look straight at my own dark fears,

and freely let them go.

And I will trust the greatest might

is not in war or what we own

but in each human’s small, bright light

the Light of Love that leads at last

to Peace on Earth and here we’ll find,

on Planet Earth as in God’s Spaciousness,

our Love’s Eternal Home.

Ah, Me! Good riddance!

Good-bye! Adieu!

Only my Love remains.

Only True Love remains.

Only God’s Love remains.

Only, All, We, Love.

Who Are We?

Who Are We?

By Jane Tawel

June 20, 2025

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.

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.

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 when all our “I’s”

are seen as One We,

we will know Who We Are.

Then only Love remains.

Leaving the House for Home

by Jane Tawel

Leaving the House for Home

By Jane Tawel

June 16, 2025

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.

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.

Walk away and don’t look back.

Do not ask where the path leads.

The Path leads to Now.

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.

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.

And now you can tell yourself,

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

Because Eternity can not be contained.

The Little Gnat

by Jane Tawel

The Little Gnat

By Jane Tawel

June 1, 2025

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.

Why do I choose

to feed on feces

when by turning around

I could find The Feast?

The mind runs willy-nilly,

desperate to escape the heart.

Why?

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.

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.

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.

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.

Call Me Back

Call Me Back

By Jane Tawel

May 3, 2025

Call me back,

call me back to you.

Softly, softly,

as morning dew,

as summer rain,

as gentle breeze,

Call me back to you.

Call me back to you,

call me back.

Sweetly, sweetly,

as morning larks,

as summer eves,

as Aspen bark,

Call me back to you.

Call me back to you,

and I shall call too.

Gently, gently

as baby’s breath,

as love’s first kiss,

as butterfly wings,

as Spring’s first buds,

as wisps of clouds,

that float and fly,

and slivers of moon

that cradle night’s sky.

I’ll call to you,

back through time and place.

And though change does come,

in form or face,

I will know You are mine,

and I am yours,

as we call to each other –

Come back.

And I read and I read and I mourn and mourn and I worry and angst and I get angry and make my small little fights with small little metaphoric fists raised and keep trying to provide my small little acts of kindness and cheers for those who fill bigger shoes than I and are trying to do something. And probably like many today, I fight against the tide of absolute depression and hopelessness. And THEN…. a Wonderous Thing does appear. Last Night, Raoul Tawel and I were privileged (and I do mean unbelievably that I was a person of undeserved privilege) to hear a concert at the exquisitely designed LA Disney Hall, where even we peons in the rafters have the most incredible experience of a perfectly designed architectural masterpiece and have a place in the crowd where the sound of music is gloriously imbibed. Gustav Dudamel conducting is always a treat but last night was a special treat we gave ourselves. In one glorious night of music — American music! — by the prolific genius John Williams, who was THERE! all 93 years and probably 93 pounds of him. We were there, big bucks spent for us, even beyond the big bucks we spend for season tickets to the LA Phil, to hear an artist we have long loved and been in awe of — yes! — Yo Yo Ma! Yowza! That guy can play a cello! 😊 So you see, at this point words are failing me and I can not describe an experience that is one of those times that the Wonder, the Ineffable, the Divine merges with the Human Spirit and the Creativity of great Artists merges with the Creator within them and all around us. And again, it came to me as it often does in times like last night, that these are the people and the experiences that truly make me believe that there is a God and that a God Who can create human beings like Yo Yo Ma, and John Williams, and Frank Gehry, and every single one of those horn blowers, and drum bangers, and string players who make up the spiritual community (yes spiritual whether they know it or not) of the L.A. Phil orchestra — it came to me again that A God who can create those almost unearthly and yet human creators must want to be with those people forever somewhere, somehow in what we might imagine to be that New Heaven and New Earth kinda “place” and “time” where the joy and life of Creation and Creativity go on and on and on. Raoul said, “Yeah, but in your worldview here, what does that mean about people like you and me?” I said, “Well, all I can hope is that whatever True Love we little folks put into this world will carry over into the next. I can only hope that Love Remains and so I will just love, and love more.”

Ah, last night was a taste of heaven — no a taste of True Earth, as it was meant to Be, as it can Be. Can you imagine a world where each day, rather than wake up to read the news, we wake up to see Van Gogh paint and Frank Gehry design: where the air is filled not with hate or fear or bombs or cries, but the music of John Williams or the music of Bruce Springsteen; and where instead of producing guns and pollution, we are producing cellos and piccolos and geraniums and rice. We can not turn our eyes away from the fight we must fight today, but we can turn our ears towards the music of the spheres, and our hearts toward that which is full of wonder in the human spirit. I am not saying this well — read some good poetry or a good book today to read people who say this better than I — but I hope you will find your way forward today with some small experience of Wonder, and some Care for Your Soul (Thomas Moore) and some little bit of Hope and a whole, whole lot of Love. Walk in Beauty. Baby steps maybe, scraped knees and bent head maybe, gimpy leg and aching heart maybe, but Walk in Beauty. If you want to find God anywhere, you can be sure if it’s anywhere on this planet, She also will be walking there.

One Step, One Brick

by Jane Tawel

In 2018, I posted a quote by that great “worker in the fields”, Dorothy Day:

The sense of futility is one of the greatest evils of the day.…People say, “What can one person do? What is the sense of our small effort?” They cannot see that we can only lay one brick at a time, take one step at a time; we can be responsible only for the one action of the present moment.

Reading this post of mine from a previous time of great and deep weltanschuaang (2018) and my quoting Dorothy Day back then, I remind myself that the feeling of futility or hopelessness is static and keeps one feeling incompetent to do the smallest things. And I am reminded that Mother Teresa said that not all of us can do great things but that even I can do small things with great love. And I believe that ultimately as Judeo-Christian wisdom teaches, “only three things will remain”: trust in Something bigger than ourselves; hope that, as that great Black Preacher, Martin Luther King said, “the arc of the universe bends toward justice; and Divine Love, available to all humans, Love that ignores ego and self-interest for that which lasts. And the greatest thing that shall remain, beyond nation, beyond “stuff”, and even beyond the self, and indeed, the only thing we can ever know of God, is Love. But even our deepest held belief is a fragile thing and it wavers with each storm, my friends. It can be very hard to see the light in the face of darkness, so each moment I will try to forget all the things I think I believe and I will simply walk forward, one step taken at a time, by the sheer will of a freeing Love. By going through suffering, not trying to get around it, we do find peace. One step. One moment. One small act of love. One hand reaching out. One at a time.

“Peace is present right here and now, in ourselves and in everything we do and see. Every breath we take, every step we take, can be filled with peace, joy, and serenity. The question is whether or not we are in touch with it. We need only to be awake, alive in the present moment.”
― Thich Nhat Hanh, Peace Is Every Step.

“My peace I offer you too. Not the peace this world offers, but a peace that will pass your wildest imaginings, a peace that passes your beliefs, a peace that passes your understanding.” — Jesus, The Christ,

I shall take my responsibility in this present moment seriously, but I shall not look at the fortress of hate and greed being built against the True Truth. I shall mourn but not hate those who tear down that which others have worked hard to build, not seeing through their foolishness and greed and hatred the Good things — things of justice, and open-mindedness, of sharing and acceptance and care and kindness. I shall lay down my one small brick at a time in my own back yard, not as a wall to keep people out, but as a wall to support the vines of love that I choose to plant and hope to grow. I shall plant one small seed at a time, and trust that the Mountain will move.

Will I Stand Up?

by Jane Tawel

Will I Stand Up?

By Jane Tawel

February 2, 2025

Will I stand up,

if courage fails?

If lies prevail

and all seems lost?

Will I stand up

when others scoff?

When I’m cast off

as weak and frail?

Today I stand

upon The Rock

and weep to see

a House once strong,

now willful, prideful

tearing down

its firm foundations

its Cornerstone,

erecting bent beliefs

on shifting sands.

Will I stand up

when hope is torn

from bleeding Heart

from bleeding Hands?

No —

I shall fall…

But I will raise

No flag,

No creed,

No weapon but,

The Banner of

God’s Love for All,

Yes! — “All!” I’ll cry,

with my last breath,

and though I can not stand —

I’ll crawl.

Crossing the Road on The Way

by Jane Tawel

Crossing the Road on The Way

By Jane Tawel

January 26, 2025

Resting my head on small, fragile hands,

too fragile to hold the world up.

What would happen if I dropped the world?

What would happen if I gave my thoughts

— Up?

Holding my heart,

pushing it deeper within.

Stunting or fronting true selves.

Who would I be if I opened the cage?

What would emerge if my heart was set free?

How much Love can a soft heart give?

Why, All the Love that there is.

Embracing the shattered,

the least and the lost,

Inside me —

but also in them.

How would I live?

if I–

Stopped.

Looked.

and Listened……..

before crossing the road

On The Way?

Fall and Flow

by Jane Tawel

Fall and Flow

By Jane Tawel

January 22, 2025

Beginning —

A bud appears on a dung heap

Beauty despite, beauty despite….

Somehow from garbage,

New birth.

New shoots reach up

from old roots,

Searching

Dreaming

Creating Hope.

Stay small,

as small as you can be.

In this Un-brave New World,

find your courage in

laughter,

meekness,

small acts of kindness.

Become curious.

Be curious only about —

What you can see

What you can smell

What you can taste

What you can hear

What you can touch.

Keep your focus on

What you can experience in this moment

and perhaps, what you can change.

Nothing but what is real for you

needs to intrude on your reality.

Use your fear wisely

and then fear not.

This is not the beginning of the end.

This is the end of yet another beginning.

Many have come and gone before

And for you, there is only —

This time

This place

This now

This task.

Find those to whom

you alone can help,

find those to whom you

would do unto

as you would have them do

unto you.

Herein, lies peace.

Trust that you can fight for right,

and stand up for Goodness

but only where you are planted.

Be a beautiful small flower.

The garbage is only here

to help you flourish and grow.

Let other people tend their own gardens

or wallow in their own dung heaps

as they will.

They are not for you.

Endings…..

A leaf falls from a tree

A wave flows out to the Ocean

And dust returns to dust

Let go

Fall

Flow

And you will find where you have come from

and return.

Tag: Love

The Problem Starts with “Me”

Who Are We?

Leaving the House for Home

The Little Gnat

Call Me Back

A Wonderous Thing Appears

One Step, One Brick

Will I Stand Up?

Crossing the Road on The Way

by Jane Tawel

Fall and Flow

by Jane Tawel

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