This was on the Tuesday edition of the ST, for those who might be interested. j'aime la vie Yesterday, appreciate; tomorrow, anticipate; today, participate. In all, Celebrate! A candle forJanice American Janice of our acquaintance formerly taught in thePhilippines, then married a Filipino who worked for Eastman Kodak in Rochester,New York. They acted as guardians (anorganizational and functional category) to a social movemental force I was anactive member of in the 70s and the first half of the 80s, operating out ofChicago, Illinois. We performed as aglobal servant (word used intentionally rather than the neutral “service”)force in human (economic, political, and social) community development. The group labored under a high intensity of social engagement foralmost three decades, then organizational inertia and entropy set in, but thegroup had enough selfhood that when it realized its meeting its own body needsreplaced its passion for its mission, it intentionally dissipated out of beingwith the same lucidity as it did in its own analysis of the rise and decline ofother organizations that preceded it. Itwas called Order: Ecumenical, for those of us who thought it was revolutionaryto be oikumene when others wereparochial in their religious orientations. Of course, being ecumenical grew old and irrelevant so fast that itis just as well the group disbanded. I’ve used the word “intentional” in two paragraphs now. A global network of "those whocare" (nebulous but real) intentionally remained in touch while eachexpended one’s self in one’s own burst of light – into “a thousand light”, inelder George Bush’s imagery. The group’sprogram arm was actually referred to by the GOP of Orange County in UScongressional record as “communist”, so the group’s dissipation into numerouslights in essentially GOP terminology, is more descriptive rather thanideological. Janice and I exchange messages in a common listserv we are a part ofonce in a while, on the state of our being as well as our vocation. Slightly older than I am, she has just joineda few of my colleagues in bouts with chemotherapy. As has become customary in the last threeyears, I light a candle on my ledge to lift up the facticity of those in mycircle of acquaintances continuing to be treasured and celebrative presence onthe planet even in the midst of battling the onerous challenge of cancerouscells. I lit a candle for the late Ruth Tighe of Saipan, the honored mavenof local commentators, until she gloriously downed her last swig ofScotch. She once commented that Ieulogized her exit too early. Sheoutlasted her Doctor’s prognosis a few years longer. She once bought me lunch at a new health foodrestaurant, driving to the place with her oxygen tank in tow. In her retinue, imminent death had no dominion. Our current five now includes Janice of New York joining four othersfrom Seattle, Maui, Sydney, and Saipan. Specific as to who the candles represent, taken as a whole, they manifest our relationship to those considered by society to be“differently-abled” (including the "handicapped"). Being father to two autistic children, the act of regularly lightingcandles are personally of deep significance. Janice’s forte is music and the arts, and a colleague offered for herthe lyrics to Cris Williamson’s Song ofthe Soul, metaphors of the heart in a song. It turns out to be a song sung by an intentional community out ofSeattle that was a result of my group’s thousand light bursting. Part of the lyrics are: Love of my life Iam crying I am not dying, Iam dancing Dancing along inthe madness There is nosadness Only the song ofthe soul Chorus: And we'll singthis song Why don't yousing along Then we can singfor a long, long time Why don't yousing this song Then we can singalong Then we can singfor a long, long time For those who follow our reflections, they would not be surprised tosee us latch into Williamson’s imagery (which, we gather, may have been derivedfrom a Walt Whitman poem). I am not dying, I am dancing, fits thesentiment of one of our candle persons who went through chemo for nine monthsand is prone to say, “why are folks afraid to talk about dying?” That, and a small dynamo we know down Sydneyway two-steps us to the great dance that is life! As a former Methodist clergy, one could say that we have had ourshare of sending off personages into the great unknown. While grief is a legitimate response to thereality of death, I used to conduct funeral services not for the dead but forthe living. I did not hesitate to remindmy audiences that the reason we grieve is not primarily for the departed asthat the parting reminds us too vividly of our mortality. It is the affirmation of our finitude that iscelebrated in the completion of a life! The song for Janice is also a song for all our lives. j'aime la vie Yesterday, appreciate; tomorrow, anticipate; today, participate. In all, Celebrate!