We Are One
Finding Unity Beyond Separation
Separation is nothing more than an illusion - let’s find our way back to the common ground we all share—this planet. Are we not, in the end, brothers and sisters from the same origin?
Are We Really So Different?
In religion, whether Muslim, Jewish or Christian, Orthodox or Reformed, do we not share the same roots? Didn't our ancient prophets crawl up the same mountains in search of the divine? I'm curious about your paths to the One without a name.
All these differences in culture-aren't they just amazing ways of dealing with life? If we don't understand them, they can frighten us or make us judge them harshly instead of hearing their deeper meaning. And what is a nation more than a common government? It so easily becomes an identity - an excuse to feel a little better than our neighbors.
Is all this separation just an unnecessary step to strengthen our ego—to build up a sense of “I am”? Like a children’s game we need to play to grow up, learn boundaries, and spot differences, so we don’t get washed away by life’s tides.
Going Beyond Separation
To truly find myself, I had to go beyond that separation. To make peace is not to choose sides but to find the common ground—to be able to say:
I am the same as you.
To my annoying, noisy neighbor? To the alcoholic “assholes” down the road? To the arrogant rich guy with his big cars? To the old man, the disabled in the wheelchair, and the ugly-smelling homeless at the station?
Yes, I am the same.
Greedy broker, power-hungry dictator, radical nationalist with a bald head? The insane murderer, his victims, and their savior? The misguided spiritual leader, the one lost in despair? The face-tattooed gang member, ready to shoot his own mother?
I am the same.
Embracing My Shadows
The ugly truth is, there is no shadow in this world so mean and evil that I can’t find it somewhere in myself—just as I find all the beauty of this world within me. In the right (or wrong) circumstances, I might do the same. My shadows are part of me, no matter what. How much I listen to them depends on my level of mastery, my fear, and the situation I’m in.
A small story in between: After a fight in school, where rage took over me, I swore to myself never to be that violent again. I refused military service and chose social work instead.
Twenty years later, my wife and I almost got caught in a South American rally—people violently protesting against a corrupt government, smashing everything that looked like wealth. Being clear symbols of that rich Western world, I got scared—and my world flipped.
If our driver hadn’t managed to turn around, my body, my mind, my whole being was ready to fight for my wife—no matter how many I would have hurt or killed, no matter how much I would have been hurt or even died.
Listening to the Shadows
My shadows are my brothers, my sisters, my companions through thick and thin. They tell me when something goes against me, push me to step into my power, or even fight for myself and my family. They are harsh judges and relentless critics. They sit at my inner council table, side by side with the sweet and the holy, the wise and the funky, the melancholic and the loving. They have their say, their right to speak and be heard—just like the others.
Sometimes they whisper uncomfortable truths—showing me dark spots I still need to explore and bring to the light.
A Beautiful Mirror
Nothing is new under the sun—wiser men than me have contemplated these things long ago. I am but a part of you, as you are a part of me—beautiful mirrors to each other, teaching us to listen and learn.
With love to all your parts,
Stephan, Sky Jaguar